#feeling rating

[scramratz]

Did you know it’s legal in the USA for mattress companies to put fiberglass in their mattresses? They don’t even have to label them! So if you wanna commission me so I can buy a new bed I won’t stop you

[shesgonnachangetheworld]

i don't care that joe biden is old and tbh, i don't actually think the media cares either. they just want trump back because him sucking makes for easier clickbait

[jobycewl]

I believe in the “Everyone is jealous of Shang Qinghua” agenda

[newttxt]

leashes for zosan

[gongyussy]

[anbaisai]

The girlies are fighting… (featuring mentions of a friend’s OC)

Textless version can be interpreted as POV you're being bullied by mean girls or something

Hypothetical exchange based on Leona giving Jamil this ⬇️ piece of advice during Book 6

If this statement doesn’t literally also apply to Jamiyuu ships if Leona knew about things in universe… he’s a Jamiyuu shipper and he’s getting impatient (/j).

And instead of defending himself, I believe Jamil’d just pick something to fire back about because he’s like that. Men who can’t be direct or honest for their lives, sigh.

[toxxtt]

started playing bg3. shoutout to my favorite guy

also I love shadowheart so much bc she really just says whatever is on her mind

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[heysweetbee]

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

now playing 🎞️ who (2024) by jimin (cr. anahilation)

[hobbymommyy]

Happy Monday 🤓

[sunlit-mess]

snap out of it

[comatosebunny09]

I saw someone's author's note that said, "If this isn't your vibe, leave the fic alone. Read something else. Like always, I'm not responsible for the media you consume." And that is so fucking real to me. Minding one's business has become a lost art. We should get back to that ASAP.

[leashybebes]

more of this. it's happening, y'all

On Thursdays, Evan works in a queer friendly bar. That mostly means women who want to drink and dance without being bothered by creeps, sheltered college students testing the waters, and people who wander in and only belatedly clock the rainbow decor. The last couple of weeks there's been a guy in his section he's not sure how to categorize. He's about Evan's height but broader - really buff, and classically handsome in a sharp jaw and killer cheekbones way that Buck's a little envious of, honestly. He could clean up in WeHo, could probably have any woman in the bar come running if he'd look up from his string of nasty craft beers that he occasionally chases with a shot of Jack and actually smile at someone. Evan's willing to bet he has a great smile, but he also has a closed off air like a forcefield around him.

"Hey," Evan says when he collects the empty glass from the guy's latest gross beer. He also hands over a napkin with a phone number courtesy of the cute blonde, or possibly her cute brunette friend at the end of the bar. "Couple ladies over there trying to get your attention."

"Oh." The guy looks at the napkin like it might bite him. "Uh. I'm not - I'm not interested."

Evan shrugs. "Your loss, man."

The guy uses one fingertip to nudge the napkin back towards Evan. Swallows sharply enough that Evan can track the motion of it with his eyes.

"I'm gay."

"Yeah? In that case, the dude three seats down is gonna be delighted."

The guy blinks a couple times, sneaks a glance down the bar like he thinks he's gonna get slapped for it.

"Not tonight," he says.

Evan shrugs. "Get you another gross beer?"

The guy looks at him, and it's not the smile Evan was imagining, but it's at least half a smirk, and it makes a line next to his mouth deepen, almost a dimple. "Should you be calling the drinks you sell gross?"

"Call it as I see it, man. I like Bud Light and cocktails, so."

"Jesus Christ."

"Evan, actually," Evan tells him, with a grin.

"I'm Tommy."

"Hey, Tommy. So. Gross beer or fruity cocktail?"

Tommy looks at him, eyebrows drawing together, shoulders going a little tight. "Is that a dig?"

Evan replays his words. "Oh, shit no! Not at all! Fruity like containing fruit, not fruity like fruity. Who even says that anymore? I wouldn't, I mean - I'm an ally!"

Tommy looks, honestly, a little baffled by Evan's whole existence which is unfortunately not a look he's unfamiliar with.

"I think I'm gonna call it a night," he says, and Evan's heart sinks a little. Tommy looks like a guy who desperately needs to cut loose.

"Nah, c'mon, I just accidentally hate crimed you, let me make you piña colada. On me."

Tommy relaxes a tiny bit. "Okay. Sure. Thanks, Evan."

[shalom-iamcominghome]