#and i freaked out because it reminded me of that One Time

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake, Cheerleader Extraordinaire

Okay, hear me out: Tim deciding to try out for the college cheerleading team.

It starts out as a joke. Maybe Danny and Tim are at one of Danny’s football games, and Tim’s casually making some witty comment about the cheer routines. Danny, of course, being the chaotic boyfriend he is, goes, “Bet you couldn’t do half of that.”

Oh? well then, challenge accepted.

Tim’s been training for years—gymnastics, acrobatics, fighting crime on the regular—it’s not like a few flips and jumps are going to be any trouble for him. Plus, there’s something about the high-energy, peppy atmosphere that lowkey appeals to Tim. The chance to just let loose for a bit? Why not?

So, Tim being Tim, fully commits to the idea. He starts practicing routines, learning the cheers, and by the time tryouts roll around, he’s ready. Danny’s all supportive, of course, sitting in the bleachers with the biggest grin because this is Tim we’re talking about, and he’s about to blow everyone’s minds.

And he does.

The other cheerleaders? Absolutely shook. Tim’s out there pulling off flips, doing perfect jumps, and landing everything like he’s been doing this for years. He even throws in some crazy acrobatics just for the fun of it. Needless to say, Tim makes the team—no one can argue with those skills.

Then comes the uniform. The iconic moment.

Most of the men on the team wear shorts, but Tim, being Tim, decides to rock the skirt version of the uniform because why not? He likes the look, it’s more flexible, and he might as well commit to the whole look as well. And besides, he’s Tim Drake. He’s not going to let gender norms stop him from looking fabulous.

Cue Danny absolutely losing it.

Like, Danny was supportive before, but now? Oh no, now he’s flustered beyond reason. He didn’t expect this level of power move from Tim. When Tim shows up to the next game, wearing the cheerleading skirt, looking ridiculously good with those legs, flipping around with that same cool confidence—Danny can’t handle it. His brain? Fried. He can’t even focus on the game because every time Tim moves, Danny’s heart skips about three beats.

There’s a part of Danny that’s just beaming with pride because that’s his boyfriend out there, but there’s also this tiny, flustered part of him that’s a little jealous too. Now the whole campus gets to see how freaking amazing Tim looks in that cheer uniform, and Danny’s like, “Great, now I have to share this sight with the rest of the world.”

Tim, of course, notices. He can see Danny getting distracted on the field, shooting him these flustered glances, and Tim just smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and if wearing the skirt gets that kind of reaction from his boyfriend, he’s definitely keeping it.

The best part? After the game, when Danny finally gets a chance to pull Tim aside. He’s trying to play it cool, but it’s obvious that he’s still a little jealous and way too flustered. He wraps Tim in his varsity jacket, tugging him close and muttering something about how now everyone gets to see Tim like that—but then immediately follows it up with a kiss because he’s still Danny and loves every second of it.

And Tim? He’s living for it. The cheerleading, the attention, Danny’s flustered reactions—it’s all just too good. Now, every game, Tim rocks that skirt uniform, flips and cheers like the pro he is, and Danny’s just the supportive (and slightly jealous) boyfriend watching from the field.

They’re the campus couple—the star quarterback and his cheerleader boyfriend, always hyping each other up, and now, every time Danny looks over at Tim mid-game, he’s reminded that, yep, Tim’s his, skirt and all.

[freakassfemme]

hey snookums miss your writing so freaking bad :( sharing my thoughts on being abby's favorite hookup so she drops some breeding kink talk and then doubles down on it when u confront her after because she's flustered and shy about it 🥺

ohhhh you mean abby dropping plans with another girl the moment you text her?

you mean abby showing up with a special strap that she only keeps for you, and she’s practically buzzing with excitement on your doorstep, laughing nervously when you open the door in hardly anything, maybe a pretty set of lingerie or one of her tee shirts?

you mean abby whose face goes red when you lean against the door, playing coy and running a hand up your front, pushing the shirt up until she can see there’s nothing underneath, and she shoves you inside?

or do you mean abby whose got her strap buried inside of you, groaning so loudly into your neck that it’s making your head swirl?

abby whose thighs are sticky from your cunt, and she’s got your legs hoisted over her shoulders, her hips stuttering as your pretty moans spur her on, dragging her dangerously close to cumming untouched as she slams into you over and over and over again until she thinks she might have fucked up the drywall in your room with how hard the headboard is slamming into it. abby who is babbling like an idiot, too lost it in to let you get more than a few words out.

“jesus, fuck abby, oh my god —“

“shit, i know baby, i know. you want more? you want it harder baby?”

“fuck, yes, yes, please—“

“god you’re perfect, fucking perfect, ‘m gonna give you more baby, don’t worry sweetheart, ‘m gonna give it to you”

“please please please i want it, please —“

her moaning loudly, biting down at the space where your shoulder meets your neck as she sits up some, pushing your legs down until your knees are nearly pressed by your head, and god it’s so easy for her to shove you around like you weighed nothing.

“god, fuck!” she’s groaning, slamming a hand down on the mattress just to let out some of her pent up arousal as she tries to remind herself you are a person, you are breakable.

“‘m gonna give it to you baby, don’t worry,” she murmurs, grabbing your cheeks between her hand and making you look at her. “gonna make you mine, fill you up just like you deserve pretty girl”

it’s nothing crazy, just the tip of the iceberg in the ways she wants you and the ways she wants to possess you, but you bury your head into her chest, nails digging into her back as a whine tears itself from your throat, cracking the exterior of her perfect little minx with nothing more than a few words, and it riled her the fuck up.

she grabs you by the throat, pinning you down against the mattress again. she wants to see you again, needs to see you again and the way you react to her, she needs to say worse, needs to pour every confession from the tip of her dick to the bottom of her heart into your mouth right now.

“yeah baby?” she asks, eyebrows raised. you say nothing, just whining in embarrassment until she gives you a light slap to your cheek and asks you again. “you like that? want me to stuff you full, princess? fuck you til you can’t think? til you’re a brain dead little thing for me?”

you can’t help but give in this time, nodding with red cheeks and water pooling in your eyes as she takes your gentle response to heart, and she makes good on her promise.

you don’t stay shy though, and later in the night, when Abby’s done cleaning you up with her mouth and you’re curled up on your couch with her lying on her back between your legs. your fingers card through her hair, gentle undoing the knots your desperate arousal had woven into the golden locks earlier.

“so,” you start, pursing your lips to hide a smile as she looks up at you, ever attentive to your voice.

“fucking me til i’m brain dead, huh?” you ask, and instantly, her face turns bright red. she’s flipping herself over before you can do anything about it, burying her face into your stomach to hide her embarrassment.

“c’monnnnn, abs,” you say, giggling and poking at her side with your ankle. “it was kind of cute. i liked it. didn’t know you wanted to knock me up that bad.”

she groans into your stomach, tickling the soft skin until you’re wriggling underneath her, shoving her off of you. her confidence gathers itself quickly, and soon she’s giggling back as she wrestles against you, easily shoving you back into the plush fabric of the couch.

she can��t say it to your face, too shy, but when your legs wrap around her waist and her face is pulled next to yours, she whispers, “you haven’t even seen how bad it is yet.”

is that the abby you mean?

[cokoweee]

Heavens to Betsy I’ve been meaning to go on this rant forever but I keep forgetting for some reason

Quick disclaimer- I’m not analyzing your comic at all, I just notice little accuracies that make me happy.

~

Ok coming from a psychology major student, your description of PTSD and mental health issues is actually pretty dang good. Idk if it was intentionally researched or not but there’s like a ton of stuff that’s consistent with real life trauma and it’s quite frankly impressive

Again not sure if this was intentional or not but the thing on his back reminds me so much of old school electroshock therapy which I adore bc

A: it causes confusion and memory loss which you’ve shown and

B: kinda implies that maybe he did his own research when deciding how to deal with everything or

C: again is incredibly accurate in the fact that most trauma patients continuously seek pain out, and in turn report feelings of extreme boredom and numbness when not actively experiencing pain or reliving trauma. In his case going borderline catatonic when he’s not freaking out.

On the topic of “freaking out” a lack or decrease in serotonin leads to a more reactive and intense episodes in PTSD. Or, because the little guy is like mega depressed coz of the whole situation, he gets way more intense and violent episodes that someone who was on like Prozac. And would tend to be more on edge and sensitive to triggers.

Then there’s his family. For some background, there’s a part of your brain called the amygdala. It typically works to control basic emotions, but responds very well to fear. In traumatic experiences, it pairs with the hippocampus (the memory center of the brain) to store vivid and occasionally sensory memories.

When a memory trigger is provoked and brought back into consciousness, it actually changes slightly depending on the context of which it recalled. Those memories are changed to fit how we make sense of them. So if he feels guilty for his brothers death, then his memories will reflect it whether or not it’s actually true.

Essentially, him having his brothers showing up all the time (looking the way they do) is really bad for him on multiple levels, and not just because they’re triggering visually. They’re like actually impeding his ability to recover by keeping him in an aggressive form of already intense fight or flight that comes from trauma.

On a happier note, one of the best ways to improve is to establish and nurture caring relationships. Awww

Aight ima stop here so I don’t bore you to death with random psych facts, but like kudos to you my dude because I could go on forever about some of the stuff in there

Uh yeah

-writing anon 🤡

WRITING ANON? SLAPPING OUT ANALYSISSISIS AND SHIT?

Bein real I dont do much research on shit even tho I should. I just go off what I’ve seen/ learned throughout the years. It’s always good to hear I’m doin ahit right tho!

Lowkey right with the shock tho. Or high key lol. Seeking pain there’s other ways people do it but mmm somehow this seemed the tamest way. Oh writing anon u silly lil saltine cracker

[crypt-void]

So I have this bit, right? It's been a while since I've done it, but if I bring it up with my friends, they can still easily understand or remember the joke.

It's called the Dan Rules. It's often comedically egotistical and vain and was made because out of our little group, it was a joke that I am (as an act) an eccetric (maybe enigmatic if I'm feeling fancy) person who does whatever the hell I want.

If people thought to question my behavior, it was often quickly followed with a "that's just Dan" from my friends and easily dismissed. Sure, some of my boldness was probably left over from my middle school years, where I felt I had to lean into my weirdness completely so people would see me more as a joke than a freak.

But then I found myself in a safe, accepting environment, one where the need to bite and snarl and run away never came. I waited a while for it to arrive for me to feel the need to play the part of the fool for my newfound companions entertainment. It shocked me when I was left with genuine love and compassion. I leaned out of self-deprecating humor and completely into the (very obviously joking and fake) role of an egotistical short and angry ruler. For fucks sake we still have the name of the group chat as "Dantopia". I still did the bit to entertain my friends, to keep them laughing at my antics. But this time, it was accompanied by my own laughter. I enjoyed a new sense of freedom it brought.

The Dan Rules came out of when we were messing around, and I'd lean into this foolish king role, and I would proclaim something insane or childish. A popular one was, "Dan is never wrong." Often followed by a warranted scoff.

But the second rule is a good one, I think, one that really shone through as a reminder that I am not now who I was before.

"I do what I want."

I hadn't had much freedom before I met my current group of friends. I was quiet and kept quiet at times. I felt muzzled and chained, and as if I was a dog because someone forced a collar around my throat and pulled me on a leash.

It wasn't only that I didn't have the choice of self-expression, though. I'd also seen what happened to people who gave too much into reckless. I grew up with the weight of their actions carried on my shoulders, and while I have always been bold in my identity and beliefs, I was quiet and still when presented the opportunities to escape from situations where people kicked me down for who I was. I feared what would happen if I left my old group. Ironically, this fear led me to be isolated.

I found myself almost completely alone in the pandemic, and my only saving grace was a new school with new people. New people who didn't tell me to shut up or that I was ugly or that I needed to stop acting like an animal or they'd treat me like one. Instead, I met friends who handled me gently and taught me it was okay to hug just as it's okay to bark, and they welcomed me. I felt at home. I felt as if I knew myself completely.

So, with the second rule, which I still follow to this day, I added a private note.

"I do what I want. Because I can trust myself to."

Know thyself

I can trust myself to bark or scowl or growl just as much as I can to love and kiss and hug. I can stay aware of what is and isn't good and how much or how little I can trust someone. I can be bold and loving all at once and welcome others with open arms and flashing fangs.

I am in complete control over myself, and even when I am doing something so I can see my friends laugh, I am also doing it because I can, and I do what I want.

[puppyeared]

fake ep idea + doodles

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[bare1ythere]

Trying to figure out why this guy in my discussion group for class was annoying me so much and I finally figured it out: I hate being in any class after 3:30pm and the moment I set foot in that room I am immediately irritated just by the fact that I'm there

[kavehater]

Chappel Roan saying she’s sad she’s demisexual and then there’s me being aroace as a whole like don’t you think I’m even more sad 😭

[anotherpapercut]

working with children really will make you examine your thought processes and emotional reactions like nothing else. I've found myself being so much more thoughtful in my daily life about how I respond to my emotions and environment, as well as the reasoning behind why others behave the way they do

[sweetandglovelyart]

I attempted to make a Taranza AMV because I like this song and I thought that it was fitting for him. The song is I Want to Be Your Boyfriend by Hot Freaks.

[jawz]

can't stop thinking about shannon hanchett's death. i feel sick. i don't even know if something like justice exists for what was done to her.

[shoechoe]

man i am glad i didn't get the tumblr layout update

[ark1os]

.

I didnt know the tags woulr be so much i shouldve just wrote a long vent 😭😭😭 rip

[devilsskettle]

whenever i hear a song that i would like if it weren’t for the fact that it was too long, i think about this:

like you can afford to write tangentially if you/your music is already popular and you know that people are going to listen to you no matter what and in fact laud your longer pieces as being genius etc but can you really be releasing 5+ minute long songs without a built-in audience?

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

one thing i was not at all prepared for about having to go without glasses for a week is how the navigating my environment itself isn't a huge barrier--i have to be really slow and careful and it's annoying, but it hasn't actually stopped me from doing things including in the 'god this is going to be a hassle, i don't even want to start' way--but the major loss/change in sensory input as well as Oh God the HUD is Wrong is apparently a huge depression trigger. replacements cannot happen soon enough

[prismatoxic]

hanamusa artist: (puts screenshots of the wiki pages for jessie and delia under several comics to prove their ages are 25 and 29)

me: surely this isn't necessary. it's in your FAQ, and people can't really be--

me: (looks at the comments of one such post)

me: (look at the comments of yet another one)

me: i think i give the internet too much credit sometimes