#i am tired of false humanity

[flowersandspacestuff]

Seen a painting of a girl, named "America". America is redder, she is not European. She is her own, she is not owned. She cannot be owned, and any who believe so are taking themselves for fools. For what have they enslaved but their own souls to a false god? For what will they gain but the slaughter of their own hearts on the altar of their wants?

[itspileofgoodthings]

deeply loving something or someone does not equal (≠) worshipping something. connecting with an artist’s body of work does not equal (≠) being invested in a celebrity for no reason besides their fame and power and money. hope this helps.

[idontcaboose]

Luthor's Cricket part 5

Previous. Masterpost

Lex was able to distract the teen with a different documentary in the living room of his Penthouse. Said teen, however, made it loudly known that some of the information they were using was false, stupid, and downright biased. Granted, Lex was not paying attention when selecting the first documentary on the list. Apparently, it was a supernatural one called ‘All but Paranormal’ or something of the like. From the shouting, Lex could gather that they were able to interview Zatanna and Dr. Fate, Phantom took great exception to whatever Dr. Fate had to say about Ghost, Demons, and other supernatural creatures. Lex did bark a laugh at Phantom's remark of “Fate's biased view is just as blatant as that glaring beacon of a head!” and “If Fate is a Doctor, then I fear for the intellectual competency of the rest of the world! This means you too, Mr. Luthor!” Lex simply ignored the last part.

Oddly enough, even with the obnoxious commentary from Phantom and the absolute frustration of his magically inclined contacts ignoring him, it was not as tiring as he thought it would be.

“Phantom.” Lex called as he left his office. 

 “Yes, Boss?” Phantom paused the TV and turned to him with a small lopsided smile.

“Do you eat?” Lex asked. 

Phantom clearly did not expect the question with how his face displayed shock and confusion. “Uh, ya. I can eat human food. It's not needed, but it's nice to have. Why?”

“It is about time for dinner, I am thinking Foie Gras-” 

“Do all rich people eat such pretentious sounding food? Seriously, what is wrong with just burgers, burritos, and mac n’ cheese?” Phantom said with derision.

“Some people like to experience the finer things in life-” 

“When was the last time you enjoyed a “finer” thing that wasn't the direct cause of flaunting your power?” Phantom asked seriously. “Just one time.”

Lex…. He found himself at a loss. When Was the last time he actually enjoyed food for its taste alone. Most food prepared at the Galas were pretty cardboard at best. The high-end restaurants were better quality, but Lex only went to those as a power display, and even then, it was for a business deal or a ‘relaxed’ meeting of sorts. Even when he is home alone, he would order high value items so the staff wouldn't spread gossip about his ‘actual’ tates to the papers. The cooks he employed were fantastic at their jobs, the food was always flavorful and filling. 

But….

Probably the last time he actually enjoyed a meal was when his younger sister visited. She brought with her some greasy, cheesy mess of a burger wrapped in foil from a truck from the park across the street. She had laughed at his disgusted face and said “If it was good enough for Bruce Wayne and his kid to stand in line for, it's good enough for us!” 

That was about eight years ago.

After that meal, they had fought, and she stormed out. She has only contacted him through email for Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas. 

Lex ordered pizza from his cooks that night.

Next

[gayforolderwomen]

You wanted to be touched didn't you?

Pairing: dark!Agatha x reader + hinted at Dark!Rio x reader

Agatha and Rio have kidnapped you, they've left you completely alone and isolated for months in hopes that you become touched starved, it works and Agatha uses it to her advantage

Warnings: 18+, smut, dub-con, non-con, mommy kink, fingering (r receiving), kidnapping, manipulation, implied mind control, Stockholm syndrome, extremely brief breast play, r has a pussy, r is referred to as a girl, use of 'good girl', touched deprived r, panty soaking, slight overstim, mention of a strap-on, lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: this is a dark fic please pay attention to the tags! This is my first fic so please be nice and there's probably going to be some spelling/grammar mistakes sorry lol

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You don't know how long it's been

One moment you were walking peacefully in the woods the next two women appeared and you passed out, you woke up in this cell and ever since then it's been silence. No footsteps above, no muffled voices, no human interaction at all

Your meals just appear at the same three times everyday, the cell window too high up and small to tell where you are but at least it gives you a sense of time

It's been roughly three months you think since they took you, you don't know who they are or why they did this but the thing that confuses you the most is that they haven't even come here. No visits at all and it's starting to get lonely, you even tired calling out a few times but recived no response

All you have is the confines of the cell, you sit on the old mattress that's been your bed for the past few months and suddenly a door opens

Your heart leaps as footsteps descend the stairs and she appears. Fear lingers in your chest but the woman approaches the cell with a warm, deceptively kind smile on her face, as if her softness could vanish any minute but you'll take anything right now

"Agatha, Agatha harkness" she states with soft credence

Without waiting for your name Agatha opens the cell door and watches your reaction carefully, you stay still for a moment studying the woman. She's definitely one of the women that took you but she's being so kind and at least she's talking to you

Against your better judgement you stand up from the mattress and hug yourself slightly suddenly feeling awfully touch deprived

Agatha smirks slightly and slowly approaches you. Once she reaches you she cups your face in her hands, her touch gentle and grounding

You almost immediately nuzzle into her plams as if it were the most natural thing in the world, easily lulled into a false sense of security as Agatha's thumb caresses your cheek. She coos at you quietly and brings you closer to her body, her strength a subtle reminder of her power in the situation

"Sorry to keep you waiting little one I just had to make sure you'd be a good girl for me, you're a good girl aren't you darling?"

She asks with a sultry lilt, one of her hands moving from your cheek to wrap around your waist possessively, pulling you flush against her, her other hand still gently cupping your cheek caressing it almost as a distraction to her firmer grip on your waist

You don't even pick up on the implications of her question and just nod, nuzzling into her hand a little more just greatful to be touched

"Use your words little one" Agatha gently chastises her grip loosening slightly as a warning

You almost instinctively panic when her grip loosens desperate not to lose the gentle touch you been without for months

"I'll be good, I am good. I'm a good girl" you say quickly trying to nuzzle into her palm again, an aching need in your body to be caressed

Agatha smiles, a slight darkness flashes in her eyes, too quick for you to take notice. Her grip goes back to how it was cupping your cheek with one hand, the other holding your waist to hers

She leans in slightly, her hot breath tickling your ear "that's a good girl, you deserve a reward for being so good, don't you think darling?" She husks in your ear her tone no longer disguising the lust it's laced with

Agatha doesn't wait for your response this time and her hand leaves your cheek, prompting a small pout from you which Agatha chuckles at

"such a sweet little thing, so desperate for mommy's touch hm?" Agatha teases slightly, pulling back just enough so that her hand can slowly slide down your neck to your chest brushing against your breasts in a fleeting touch

Your cheeks flush slightly heat stirring in your stomach at the name Agatha gave herself. Before you can think clearly Agathas hand cups your breast through your clothes feeling your nipple harden easily, she smirks her plan has worked perfectly, leaving you alone for months waiting for your body to start craving any kind of touch and now you're as responsive and pliable as she had hoped

Her other hand now leaves your waist instead brushing across your stomach occasionally dipping under your shirt to feel the soft skin beneath, her long fingers teasing your pantie line watching your face with a careful determination

The action makes the heat in your stomach grow and you let out a sound of desperation and confusion, almost a whine, you've been aching for another persons touch but this isn't what you imagined

"Wh- i-" you stammer before Agatha raises her hand that was cupping your breast to shush you

"shh baby girl, mommy's gonna make you feel good, you wanted to be touched didn't you?" She says before her fingers slip under your panties and press against your clit, eliciting a gasp from you and making your hips buck involuntarily

Agatha smiles holding back a laugh "see doesn't this feel good darling?" She says as she starts pressing circles against your clit

A strangled moan escapes your lips and despite your mind reeling at the sudden change in situation you feel your body reacting, your folds starting to become slick with arousal, your hips bucking slightly more

Agatha presses her body against yours and starts waking you back until you hit the wall of the cell "oh baby you need me so bad don't you? Mommy's got you" she coos in an almost teasing manor enjoying seeing the way your body betrays your mind

Her thumb is now circling your clit occasionally pressing down hard to hear your beautiful sounds. She can't hold herself back anymore and slips two fingers inside you with little resistance, your warm slick walls enveloping her digits

You let out a whimper that quickly turns into a moan as she curls her fingers inside of you, the pain from the stretch mixing with the pleasure

"Does that feel good baby? You like mommy's fingers inside you?" Agatha husks in the your ear before starting to leave hot open-mouthed kisses on your neck

You let out an almost pathetic moan in response your mind suddenly too foggy to speak, it's odd though your mind was perfectly clear a mere second ago

Her fingers start to pump in and out of you, giving you no chance to think further, curling them perfectly in time with her thumb strokes on your clit. Her other hand holding you firmly against the wall trapping you completely. Your hips buck and twitch desperately not even knowing if you're trying to get away or want more

Agatha moans softly at the sight of you so confused and desperate, your walls clenching around her fingers each time they push in

"That's it's baby take mommy's fingers, you're so good for me" she says a hint of pride in her voice and she pushes a third finger into you once again giving you no time to think as she fucks you against the cell wall

The sound of your moans echo through the basement and your hips start to shake slightly the pleasure pain starting to get too intense, the mysterious fog clouding your brain coaxing you to just give in, Agathas lips still pressing against your neck as her fingers pump into you relentlessly her thumb curling your clit with increased power

"Go on baby, let go, cum for mommy" she commands in your ear before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue demanding entrance and dominating your mouth claiming you completely

The fog in your brain thickens feeling almost like a blanket wrapping around you, lulling you into security and compliance

Agatha keeps you pinned to the wall as your legs start to shake, her mouth still dominating yours swallowing the slurry of moans you produce and then it happens, a high pitched moan, your legs shaking so badly that Agatha is the only thing holding you up, pleasure crashing through your body and cum enveloping Agathas fingers soaking your panties in the process

Agatha finally pulls back from the kiss still holding you up to look at you, your face flushed, chest heaving, legs trembling, it's the most perfect sight to Agatha. She keeps pumping her three fingers in and out of you making you ride the high of your orgasm, her thumb pressing hard against your now swollen clit before pulling out and stepping back making you fall to the floor with a thud but the fog in your brain barely registers the pain

Agatha takes the fingers that where inside you and brings them to her mouth licking off the cum with a moan "oh sweet girl you taste delicious, I wish I could devour you right now but it's Rio's turn"

Agatha says and suddenly the other woman that took you appears in the cell. Rio, she stands over your trembling body and leans down, her hand dipping beneath your panties and proding at your entrance feeling how wet and stretched out it is

You want to squirm away, your body already tired and overstimulated but the fog keeps you still, keeps you compliant

"You did good my love, she should take my cock nicely" Rio states with a low growl of approval "clear her mind though, you know I like it when they're feisty"

It's then you notice Rio is completely bare, apart from a harness fastend around her hips

[topzsun]

TO FIND YOU

── ♡ SATAN

you held no ill will towards lilith. all she had done was exist. that doesn't stop others from warping their perception of you. luckily, satan understands how you feel.

His world began with the scent of copper and scorching heat that nipped at his skin. Yours began in the arms of your mother and the fluorescent light of the hospital room. He was bathed in blood that was not his own whilst you were dressed in warm, cotton gowns. His father mourned not for his birth, but for the loss of someone of greater importance than him. Yours will kiss your chubby cheeks and hold your tiny clenched fists.

Your beginnings couldn’t be any more different. However, that will not change the antecedent of your and Satan’s existence. Lilith, a woman neither of you met, but suddenly became the forefront in your and Satan’s minds. Belphegor’s attack, your ancestry and the proceeding actions of the brothers muddy the sight behind your eyelids. Your late-night contemplations end up coinciding with Satan’s when you both catch each other in the act of making chamomile tea. You wonder what would have happened if you had never gone to the kitchen that night, never knowing of the identical internal strife Satan would be having.

He told you that after the incident, thoughts of Lilith have also begun to plague him. You take in the defeat in his tone and launch into rambles of your own because if Satan is beginning to peek over the emotional wall he has made, you will have to break it down on your own. You tell him she doesn’t threaten you, a ghost who hadn’t existed to you before this week. You know you are still you, you are just afraid of that day you will no longer be considered that by his brothers.

He listened to you quietly, sipping on his tea, and once you were done you finally took a long look at him. Satan is a gorgeous demon, beauty touched by something beyond your understanding. No human man can compare to him because humans are decorated by flaws, scars and history. Demons are above earthly qualities like that. Yet, when you take in the dimness of Satan’s emerald eyes and how he tilts his head back to rest it against the headboard you begin to see it. The weight that strains his shoulders, and the mask he meticulously puts on. You are reminded that even he can share the burden of overthinking and late-night worries with you.

He tells you of his childhood (“If I can even call it that,” He scoffs). His birth marked the end of Lilith, and when he was first brought home in Lucifer’s bleeding arms, there was no denying the role he had already been dressed into. It was a sick joke, he thinks, to have been born so similar to Lilith with golden hair and eyes the colour of dew-covered grass. He recalls to you how Beelzbebub and Belphegor could barely look him in the eyes, how Asmodeus attempted to falsely dote on him because he never really saw him but his baby sister, of how Lucifer would meet his gaze as if he’s seen a ghost.

“But I was not her. I never could be,” He tells you firmly, eyes steely as if wanting to make this fact clear to you as well. He didn’t need to. You know very well he’s Satan, a tired Satan who's sitting on your bed with you and nursing his tea like a lifeline. He is intelligent, cunning, multitalented, someone who has trouble wearing his heart on his sleeve but the diehard romantic in him wishes he could. Lilith was bluntly honest, unconditionally kind, brimmed with curiosity and tended to make herself seen wherever she went. You don’t need to list these differences for Satan to know he couldn’t be her replacement, and she could never replace the role he’s built in this house either. As if reading your mind, the blonde smiles wryly.

“I know what I am,” and as if to say “You know what you are too”, Satan taps his fingers three times on the exposed skin of your arm. His eyes are rounded in affection, and you can’t bite back your sheepish smile either.

Things will be okay.

[whatt-the]

Gift for @uno-san

College Stanford x milf reader

Content warnings: age gap obviously, stanford is a warning because I am tired of people pretending he isn't odd as hell, fem reader

Author's note: this takes place in an AU where Stanley never ruined ford's project and he got into his dream college. He is taken under the wing of an esteemed scientist, shenanigans (cheating on ur husband in a loveless marriage) ensue.

devious devious art about this coming soon! Both targeted and about the ambiguous "reader".

This is also only part 1 and there will definetly be more to come

Imagine how Stanford felt when first being invited to his mentor's house, after a particularly lengthy discussion on whatever topic the lecture his mentor gave happened to be about. I can imagine all sorts of emotions running through his mind... anxiety, excitement, a bit of shock- he knew he was smart, but he never thought his theories were reasonable enough to challenge his mentor's views: you see, he really idolized that man. Continuing their discussions would be an honor, and the mere mention of publishing multiple papers with him had stanford's mind racing, he could barely contain his joy!

Now, understand that he had plans for the unexpected visit: he'd prove his worth, his technical prowess, anything to get more of that sweet, sweet approval. We both know he didn't have much of that in his youth, neither did he get much of it now... it seems he is always the single oddest character in any given room, even amongst other well educated, motivated students. "Teacher's pet", "tryhard", he couldn't believe it at first- such childish insults at such an esteemed institution? He thought those got left behind in high school. How innocent he is. Regardless:

His plans were to prove himself.

Well, like I said, were.

Right now? His mind couldn't be further from his studies.

He'd made it to the house alongside the professor, the discussion now spanning multiple topics- he was having fun. Rare, considering any of his other interactions with quite literally anyone else.

(Truly the outcomes are deplorable. His social skills are lacking to an astronomical degree, to the point where it is borderline comical how little he knows about human interaction. It is a cliché, the nerd who doesn't know how to socialize, but it wouldn't be so popular of a trope if it didn't often get reflected in reality. Not like he knew it was very popular to begin with: even the claim that he learned to interact with others through books would be false, since he strayed from any sort of romantic narrative. It was out of a feeling of inadequacy, really.)

Then, the door was opened.

And that's when he met you for the first time.

"You! You're Stanford right? I've heard good things from my husband here-"

"Come on, don't flatter the kid yet." Your husband spoke with a chuckle

"Hey! He deserves to hear how good he's doing! Come here." You walked forward and hugged him, it was your way of greeting people. It was warmer and more welcoming- both things the world lacked severely.

(Stanford found himself paralyzed where he stood for a few moments. He'd already found your personality endearing -your appearence even moreso-, and now you're pressed up against him? He simply must be dreaming. You felt so soft against him-- heavens, how long had it been since he'd received a hug? Far too long, clearly, but he doesn't remember them ever feeling this good)

The societal pressure to reply to this action in some way caught up to him fast, however. He was quick to place a hand on your waist, his range of motion being limited from your arms wrapping around his own. He may experience the social pressure, but he really has no clue what's appropriate and what isn't, huh? Cute.

(Had he a modicum of self control, he'd most definetly have had a much more timely and well adjusted response to your touch, but amidst the smell of your perfume, your soft arms around him, your hair tickling against his face, the feeling of your hands on his back... nothing carried the same weight as your presence did, who could blame him for doing what his mind instructed him to do and touch you back somehow? He'll come to find that he will blame himself very much for this interaction. No one more judgemental on his behaviors than the one responsible for them)

Once you pulled back from him, you were quick to usher them inside and offer them snacks, reasoning that they'd deserved something nice after studying and debating so much on so many topics. Your husband eagerly agreed and impatiently waited for your food through busying himself by unearthing blueprints and all sorts of different research papers so there would be grounds for his and ford's endless theorizing.

And thus, as you left, Stanford was left with his own thoughts. He made note of the fact that those very same thoughts were entirely consumed by you: how you dressed, how you looked, how soft your hair was, how lovely your voice sounded; all things that brought him much joy to think about, but equal parts of shame. He didn't necessarily want to have any such invasive thoughts about his professor's wife, yet there he is, with his thoughts growing more wretched by the minute. It's almost like his brain was against him: guiding thoughts that had him blushing at the very visage into his mind's eye. He wanted your hands on his back again- he wanted you to drag your nails across it-- he wanted to feel your lips on his, he wanted to feel your breath grow shaky against him--

"Here it is!! Sorry for the wait"

Papers getting dropped on the table and a thankful sigh were the next things he heard. His professor turned to him, instructing him to sit at the table, since "if you don't come quick, there won't be any left for you!"

Your food was great, simply regarded as the usual to your husband, but seen as the world's 8th wonder by Stanford. When asked if he was enjoying the food, he quickly assured you that he was absolutely enjoying it, making sure to remark that it is "the best thing he's had since he entered college", which was not at all a lie, considering he was surviving off of microwaved cup noodles and the occasional granola bar- but even he knew that was too pathetic for him to mention at all.

Your husband and Stanford made quick work of the snacks and promptly got back to... spewing big pompous words and numbers at eachother... at least it seems they were having fun, considering they'd laugh toguether on occasion. That must be a good sign? You weren't entirely sure what was happening with those 2, and you took to not interrupting them in lest you break their chain of thought.

The afternoon went by in the blink of an eye to them. Discussions on various theories followed by reading research papers followed by sketching on blueprints followed by more reading research papers. It was their passion, it seems. However, ford was greatly saddened that it was already so late- he knew full well that if he stayed any longer he'd end up spending the night on your couch, so both him and his professor agreed that it was very much time for him to go back to campus snd consequently to the dorms.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen before he got to say goodbye to you. Even if he was embarrassed to look you in the eye after a full day of... various thoughts about you, he couldn't seem to get enough of your presence. Making his way towards the front door, you were the only one who accompanied him, since your husband was quite busy organizing the mess him and his pupil had created throughout the day.

As you stood at the doorway, you saw yourself growing quite sorrowful that he'd be leaving already, he was quite interesting to you. However, nothing could have prepared neither you nor him for what he did next. He turned around to face you once more, seemingly debating something in his mind for an instant. But, just as quickly as his uncertainty was noticed, it vanished, being replaced by a conviction and fervor he didn't expect from himself -his self control seemed to disappear when he was with you- .Thus, he gently took a hold of your hand and brought it up to his height, kissing the back of it lightly. You could feel your heart skip a beat; you hadn't experienced any such romantic gestures in... god knows how long. As he pulled back, you spoke.

"I-it was... lovely meeting you Stanford." You squeezed his hand as you took a step forward. As soon as he returned your sentiment, he was gone. Though, in the look you both shared during those brief moments, you both knew this wasn't going to be the last time he'd be in this house.

You'd both make sure of it.

Stanford's professor after ford practically begged to go back to his house again: "did you really like her cooking that much?"

Stanford, sweating profusely: "yeah.. her.. . Cooking......"

[willows-peak]

*･ﾟ✧ Sukuna's Favorite Toy

aka sukuna having way too much stamina

tags: fem! reader, porn without plot, multiple orgasms (you and sukuna), overstim, a single spank, he calls reader a bitch once, lotus position, big dick sukuna, creampie, breeding kink near the end

MDNI

word count: 1k

a/n: happy new yearssss. this was written at like 2 in the morning and i think it's very obvious lulz.

⋆｡˚ ♡ You shook as you fell against Sukuna's hard chest, panting as he grunted. "What's the matter, you getting tired?" He said, his tone dripping with false concern. "Can't....m-move...." You nodded into his neck, earning a loud laugh from the King. "I knew it. Humans are always so fragile.." He muttered, smiling at how you tried to keep moving your hips but failing miserably at it. You were just so determined to be good for him, how could he not reward you a little bit? 

With a quick movement of his hips, you were slightly repositioned so he could thrust up into you. And thrust he did, good god. 

You yelped as his cock was suddenly pistoned up into your pussy, his hands coming to squeeze and slap at your ass. "That's much better, isn't it baby?" You could barely get a word out from how fast he was going, broken moans and gasps being the only thing your mouth would make now. "Ssssuk-una!-" You moaned out, Sukuna flashing a toothy grin down at you. You felt your mind start to fizzle out with how effortlessly he could move your body up and down, his sharp nails poking into the flesh of your ass as he kept thrusting. 

"Fuck, this pussy is so wet... All for me, huh? Feels this good because of my cock, right?" He egged you on, grin falling when you failed to respond to him. "Aww, what, am I going too fast? Can't talk?" He spoke lowly, a particularly hard thrust making you jolt, legs trembling against Sukuna's built and toned thighs. "T-too f-aaass', ah! is' too- pleaase is' too goooodd..." You droned out, tears welling up in your pretty eyes as you felt a familiar hot coil start in your belly.

You could do nothing but continue moaning as Sukuna laughed at your state, pushing your hips back enough for his cock to hit your g-spot better. "Is that better?" He cooed, leaning forward and licking the stray tear of pleasure that rolled down your cheek. 

"Yesyesyesyesyes- good good good good so good so good, ple-ase mmake me cum, w'nna cum, please please-" You stumbled out, a line of drool falling down your chin as you were quickly brought closer to your orgasm. Sukuna was relentless, your pussy as good as a fleshlight to his cock as he spreads you open further. His fingers shifted down to where you two met, pressing down  on chuckling at how much you had to stretch for his cock. 

"Cum on my cock, do it, show me how much you fucking love this, bitch." He groaned in your ear, his fingers moving up to your clit and rubbing hurriedly. 

You cried out his name loudly as you were nearly thrown off the edge, your orgasm crashing down in wave after wave after wave of ecstasy. By some miracle, Sukuna at least slowed down his thrusting, grinding your hips back and forth on his cock while you slowly rode out your orgasm. 

You flopped back against his chest, any semblance of energy in you now sapped out. Sukuna's movements didn't stop, of course, because why would they? Did you think you were done because you already came a few times? Oh you poor thing...

What you'd come to realize is that you're finished when Sukuna is finished. Where's that limit, exactly? I suppose you'll be the one finding out tonight.

----

Sukuna roughly groping your tits, grunting and panting into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips down into you. God, how long has this been going on? You didn't bother to keep counting after the 3rd time he came inside you, and who knows how long ago that was. All you know is that you felt full, every single inch of Sukuna's disgustingly big cock filling your pussy, his cum seeping out of you and making a small puddle underneath the two of you. 

Sukuna was relentless, clearly loving how fucked out you were sounding. "Fuck yes, cum again for me, all over my fucking cock, yes yes yeeessss..." he'd chant while a hand was quickly rubbing your clit. You could barely register your orgasm this time, everything swirling together in a mix of painful overstimulation and the high of your orgasm so much that you gave up on thinking. 

Sukuna's cock was just so big, thick and long and able to hit spots your fingers couldn't even dream of reaching. Sometime tonight, you realized the reason Sukuna was so giddy was that he knew you couldn't replace this feeling. This full body exhaustion mixed with a never ending need for more, more, more. He was the only one who could give it to you, and he'd make sure you'd never get enough of it.

You let out a broken cry of his name when he gave a mean thrust inside you, shifting your legs around to have them pressed up against your chest. Angling your hips up like this let him reach even deeper inside you that much easier, Sukuna wasting no time to continue to ruin you in this new position. 

"G'na... cum, n you're- g'na take it, ok?" He groaned out, his controlled and calm tone from the beginning of the night all but evaporating to mirror his near manic level of excitement. He watched with such intensity watching your pussy weakly clench around his cock, your scratchy voice calling out his name and your hickey bruised and bouncing tits with his name written on them-

Sukuna threw his head back and cackled as he came again, swearing and wiping the sweat starting to appear on his brow, not stopping his pace through his orgasm. "Gonna get you pregnant with my kid, gonna be my fucking baby maker-" He laughed lowly as he watched your head thrash to the side, your back arching off the mattress. 

He roughly grabbed your chin and turned your head back towards him. "Don't you dare look away from me, look at me when I'm knocking you up." He growled the last part out, leaning down to your ear and breathing into it as he moved. 

Aren't you just so lucky to have him?

[ragingbookdragon]

It all happens so fast. She returns from the trip she’s been on for the last few days only to be arrested and put in federal custody for exposing secrets on NEST. She’s tough, seen war zones, fought extra-terrestrial alien robots, and stood before evil unafraid, but this scares her to tears. Men she works with day in and day out, in her face, yelling at her to come clean about selling secrets and all she can do is plead innocent.

But then they start asking her where she was, and she snaps her mouth shut on the answers. They dig into her, asking her if she was meeting with a contact, who it was, where she was. She keeps silent and it’s only until they decide to charge her with treason that she offers a simple answer.

“I was with someone, but it wasn’t for any type of secret meeting or sharing of intelligence.”

They press her over and over and over and it ends with her in a dark room, alone, cuffed to a table. It’s technically false imprisonment and cruel punishment, but she knows she doesn’t have much of a choice given the fact of how difficult a position she’s in.

She thinks of him. No doubt the rumors have already spread around the facility. She wonders if he has heard anything, if he has already said anything. She knows she can’t say anything, knows she can’t tell the entire truth—they won’t understand. How could they? They’re two completely different species.

Her spirits begin to dampen when a crash echoes outside and the roof of the darkened room is ripped from the walls. She covers her head the best she can, fear gripping her as light pours into the room and she squints as his face becomes clear to her.

“Optimus?” she breathes, and he reaches down, snapping the cuffs on her wrist like they were toothpicks before he picks her up and pulls her out, setting her down on the ground.

Guns are pointed their way, and she can’t help but hide slightly around the leg that is suddenly in front of her, guarding her. And then all of the Autobots are squaring off against the human soldiers, protecting her. Lennox somehow ends up in the middle of a multitude of aliens and humans, yelling at both sides to lower their weapons.

“Alright! Everyone put your guns down!”

There’s a breath and then the humans lower theirs followed by the Autobots.

Lennox looks at her. “You know I trust you, I know you wouldn’t do what they’re saying, but if you have a true, factual alibi, you have got to tell them. Now.”

She purses her lips, thinks for a moment, then looks up at Optimus; he gives her his own calming look and a nod. “She and I were both recently out. We were together.” He looks down again, kneeling enough that he can take her hand in his larger one. “We are navigating a difficult and new relationship between two different species.”

“Optimus,” she whispers. “I—you don’t have to tell them this."

His pointer gently brushes her temple. “If telling them our truth means it protects you, then I shall.” Optimus looks at the higher-ups she answers to. “If you mean to punish someone, then it will be me. But know this, she has not betrayed your trust and remains a trusted agent.”

It’s quite a commotion and the night ends with her job and security reinstated and a new manhunt for the double agent; she sits outside in the field, far enough from the facility that she doesn’t have to worry about being questioned anymore. The crunch of the ground comes behind her and she doesn’t look as Optimus sits down beside her on the grass.

“I am sorry that this is how things have come to light,” he murmurs, staring up at the sky. “It is not how I would have wished it.”

She sighs, not tired of him but of the entire thing. “It’s not your fault, Optimus. I think I should’ve told Lennox that I was out before we left. If nothing else, just to let him know that I wasn’t doing anything malicious.” She looks at him. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not your fault, my spark,” he says and shifts a leg until she is between his, his hands are wrapped around her, thumb brushing her thigh. “I should’ve done more to protect you.”

“Have they said anything since this afternoon?”

“I would not be surprised, but I was once taught to listen to all but only take few as truth.”

She leans back against him. “Thank you, Optimus.”

“Always, my spark.”

[lucettapanchetta]

Can we talk about the Rainworld community?

I want to clarify that I hold no resentment toward most rainworld fans or creators. However, I feel it's important to address the current trend of mindlessly bandwagoning, canceling, or disenfranchising artists without proper evidence.

It's concerning how easily we overlook the need for fact-checking regarding alleged misdeeds. This fandom, in particular, seems to lack skepticism about certain claims. As a person who was abused and been the victim of false allegations, I find this really problematic. As soon as we are told that somebody has done something controversial, we ostracize the person without any thought to it. Neglecting to provide proof can be incredibly damaging, as it can hurt individuals that don't deserve it. ...and in a sense, doing so invalidates actual victims that have been groomed, abused or affected negatively. That being said, this whole pansear drama is so unbelievably muddy that even I can't figure out where to side. Most of the proof I've seen provided can be easily fabricated. As soon as one titan fell within this community, many others attempted to scavenge whatever remained, and apparently now it was said that the host for the rainworld emote collab has allegations on them too? The entire community right now is spewing allegation after allegation, and I find that really stupid. None of these "exposés" feel like they are bringing justice to anything, it all feels like petty high school gossip. I don't understand it and I don't like it. Overall, I am quite tired of seeing this pattern occur online so much. We should at least reconsider the factor of "plausible deniability" before rushing to point fingers at people we deem controversial. After all, we aren't machines that can just take threats, we are human beings.

We experience intense emotions— ones that can be overwhelming and can lead us to make awful decisions when we aren’t in a good mental state.

Stretches of truth, white lies, or outright fabrications can severely damage a person's mental health, and that's the last thing I want to see in a community I'm passionate about.

To those who lean to such extremes— please, do better. Other than that, I have nothing else to say, I don't like including myself in any form of drama, but I keep seeing this pattern happen so much that I can't really keep quiet anymore. Just, remember to be mindful about what you see online.

[lilacwrite]

Stream theory! time:

I am here to write my thoughts about the Neuvillette part of the stream/trailer, feel free to share yours too!

"The Melusines can't be trusted! That goes for Neuvillette too!"

So, first I have to say I'm heartbroken to hear that the Melusines and Neuvillette can't be trusted, but idc idc i trust them no matter what. And the Melusines saying: "I'm confident that we'll find the meaning of our existence one day" truly broke my heart.

To keep going with the Neuvillette angst we have The Chief of Justice himself saying: "I find it difficult to express my emotions, because I cannot fully understand myself" The struggle to deal with accusations from your own people that they don't trust you while being unable to show them how you really feel... and to add to that whatever rumours saying that u were born from calamity?? I'm so confused and sooo hyped to get the full lore.

'is this what justice means to u? answer me neuvillette!'

First, let me point out THE VOICE ACTING FOR THIS LINE IS CHEF KISS. It sends shivers down my spine every time I hear it. And every time I hear it I'm thinking, what verdict did Neuvillette come to for Wrio to deliver such a powerful line? Maybe it's about Lyney and Lynette? Because we hear Freminet asking Wrio about his siblings and I'm thinking that maybe Wrio goes and demands an explanation from Neuvillette?

"You will see much in the human world, from the delightful to the depressing and one day, when you have dwelt among humanity long enough, you will be placed to bring judgement over all, as the spokesperson for Fontaine's past"

Can't move on from this line without pointing out the informal addressing here. No Monsieur or anything. Straight up Neuvillette. I'm curious to see how close the characters are and why does Wrio sounds so hurt/betrayed.

edit: a lot of people told me the voice line is from an npc but im too tired to delete everything👍

THIS??? raised so many questions in my head it's crazy. it's unnecessary. The hold this last line has on me is absurd. I think it's directly addressed to Neuvillette and I'm curious why is he the one bringing judgement over all? why is he the one shown all alone in a grey and dull Fontaine?why not Furina? What does "spokesperson for Fontaine's past" suppose to mean??Like we already speculated about him being the Hydro Dragon, but this is *sniff* i smell GREAT storyline.

Genshin is about to drop heeeeavy lore and I'm here for it.

"its unnecessary to hold me in such high regard"

Last line in the trailer. Neuvillette said this right after being shown as one of the most powerful people in the whole nation really. He is either really modest or just tries to hide the fact that he's the most powerful in the nation. Or both. Honestly I'm not even sure of what to say about this, I just had to add it here because Neuvillette said it and I'm in whoo for him.

Him🤝Zhongli , fancy talking and acting like they don't have supreme power.

Last thought: this trailer was so powerful and sad over all. I'm expecting the archon quest to be an emotional rollercoaster with one or two emotional punches. I just know Neuvillette story will make me sob. Just look at him.

p.s. : I saw someone pointing out that the creators said that Neuvillette made a law so that the Melusines to be addressed as she/her and that fills my heart with joy. Neuvillette is shown to be oh so powerful and 'born from calamity' or whatever and yet he's one of the sweetest and kindest characters. 🫶🏼

Conclusion: i love neuvillette and idc about false accusations 😊🫶🏼

[capuccinodoll]

For whoever wants to read me—I’m tired of living in a reality without consequences.

In 2022, Santiago Mitre released his film Argentina, 1985, set in the 1980s, telling the story of the group of lawyers who investigated and prosecuted those responsible for Argentina’s civil-military dictatorship. During this dictatorship, people were disappeared and murdered, thrown into the water from airplanes as if they were not human beings but worthless cargo. The trial was historic, and Argentina became the first country to prosecute its own perpetrators of genocide.

41 years later, our freedom is slowly beginning to fade away again.

Today—or rather, yesterday (it’s already 1:30 AM here)—the police shot Pablo Grillo (a photojournalist) in the head in the middle of a protest in Buenos Aires.

If you're not aware of the context of my country, let me give you a brief summary: We're being governed by liberal idiots who support figures like Videla—the dictator responsible for the disappearance of an estimated 30,000 people.

Since Javier Milei took office as president, he has done nothing but destroy our economy with false promises of magical economic solutions. Not only that, but he has also attacked the public healthcare and education systems—both of which are of excellent quality—by cutting access to medication for cancer patients, defunding hospitals and medical centers, and attempting to dismantle public universities.

Meanwhile, he somehow found the time to scam people worldwide out of $80,000,000 through a cryptocurrency fraud scheme. (You're not a fucking genius crypto bro, you're a loser)

This figure is dreadful not only because of what he does but also because he isn’t the brilliant villain many believe him to be. He is nothing more than a small, pathetic man pretending to be intelligent when, in reality, he couldn't even pass the Ciclo Básico Común (common basic cycle) at the University of Buenos Aires or the psychometric test for the Central Bank. So now, he hates the University and wants to shut down the bank. Typical loser behavior.

He is not intelligent—he is just a clumsy, easily manipulated pawn for the politicians behind him, many of whom have been involved in previous abusive governments. Take Patricia Bullrich, for example, the Minister of Security responsible for unleashing the police on Wednesday, March 12, during a protest led by retirees. Yes, retirees. They attacked and beat elderly people over the age of eighty.

The protest was massive, with thousands of people participating, including members of football club supporter groups known as barra bravas (organized fan groups that hold significant power in Argentina). These groups support the retirees’ demands: in a country where the minimum cost of living is extremely high, retirees receive a pension of around $240 (USD).

For context, renting even a relatively cheap apartment can cost around $500.

Among the protesters were journalists and photographers. I think we all understand how important these people are for historical records. Without photographers, there would be no evidence of many events. Without (honest) journalists, we would have little to nothing.

Pablo Grillo was photographing the streets when a police officer shot him with a tear gas canister. For those who don’t know, when fired at close range, these can be lethal. In my city, almost 18 years ago, a teacher was killed in the same way—just sitting in a car, doing… nothing. And today, nearly twenty years later, history is repeating itself.

Pablo Grillo is currently in the hospital, fighting for his life, while the minister of "security" went on television saying, “Pablo is a left-wing militant, and now he is under arrest.” He is NOT under arrest. He's in the fucking hospital fighting for his life. Also, are you saying that because of his political stance, Pablo deserved to have his head blown off? I’m exhausted.

I'm tired of living in a country that drains my hopes. Tired of living in a world where people like Javier Milei hold power over massive societies. I'm tired of living in a country where freedom of expression is preached, yet you can be killed for taking a photo or censored for writing an article that the politician in charge doesn’t like.

I'm tired of watching these pathetic men take over countries and destroy them with their outdated ideas and dirty hands. I'm tired of all of this, tired of feeling like there is no relief, no respite in my country.

I'm sure that if you're from Latin America, you might have experienced this too. Bolsonaro in Brazil is one of the first examples that comes to mind.

And I have no hope. Today, I came home from university, and the first thing I saw online was the shattered head of a journalist. So what place is left for those of us who dream of teaching, telling stories, and writing about the truth?

As a future communicator, it saddens and overwhelms me to think that I am growing up in a world that constantly tries to silence us, to erase us. And I know this post is long and has nothing to do with my fanfics, but I just needed to get this off my chest.

Argentina is a beautiful country, but it is infected with an ever-growing disease. It is plagued by hatred, by citizens who deny past dictatorships, who despise others, who refuse to have empathy. It is infected by the fascism of ignorant politicians—because that’s what they are, ignorant.

And I know he will never read this, but let me play around with this space for a moment.

Javier Milei, you’re a failure. You’ve accomplished nothing of real value in your life. You’re a 54-year-old virgin who pays washed-up celebrities to pretend to be your girlfriends and had to wait to be handpicked by a clueless, rich businessman who molded you into the most appealing candidate for young people. And now, you just do whatever they tell you to.

Oh, and you talk to your dead dogs and have an incestuous relationship with your own sister. You can’t be this evil while looking that ugly, though. Honestly, you should stop doing your eyebrows and makeup like that—you look like a poorly painted Victorian doll. Your fashion sense is terrible; your suits are way too big, and you wear leather jackets in 40-degree heat. I bet you stink. BOOO. Trump is never going to love you. He’s just using you because you’re willing to hand over all our natural resources for a damn kiss on the ass. Elon Musk doesn’t care about you either—he just wants all of Argentina’s lithium. You’re nothing but a puppet with a horrible haircut.

Oh, and we all saw that you stand on a little stool during your speeches to pretend you’re taller than you actually are.

Honestly, I hope the absolute worst for you. There isn’t a single positive feeling in my heart for you or your cabinet. I hope all the harm you’ve done to this country and its people comes back to you in the worst possible way. And I hope I’m alive to see it.

That’s all. It’s horrible. Frustrating and terrifying. And I’m writing this in english because I know most of my followers speak it, but oh god, you have no idea how much angrier and more powerful my words sound in spanish.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go write The Boyfriend Act to distract myself from this horrifying reality. Lately, writing that story is the only thing that takes my mind off everything.

Thank you so much for reading me. <3 Love you all

[redscreendarkwin]

People being stupid (again, what a surprise)

Saw someone say that people who have "limiting beliefs" such as believing race changing and aging yourself down to date minors is wrong will keep you from shifting. Bitch, explain all the other shifters who have shifted (including myself through minishifts) with said "limited beliefs". Actually, explain anti-shifters who got into shifting because they didn't believe it wasn't real until they shifted.

You could literally claim ANYTHING is a "limited belief". Like for example, murder. I along with other shifters believe that murder is wrong. Does it mean I'm not gonna shift because of that? NO. Just because murder drs exist doesn't mean you should go to them just like how people who are not a certain race shouldn't shift to be another. Or like how if you're an adult, you should leave minors ALONE and not shift for them. Because that's stupid as fuck and I don't know about the rest of you people who claim anything is a "limited belief" but I have morals.

Like, you realize those people who murder innocent people in their drs could literally claim if you’re against it that that’s a limiting a belief. Some of yall don’t even think your arguments through and it SHOWS.

Do you see how your argument makes no logical sense?

This app has genuinely shown me that the majority of y'all are chronically online. Jumping through hoops to make it seem like you're not attracted to children or gaslighting minorities into thinking that race changing is ok just because you have a few Uncle Tom's backing you up.

"Well, I'm already that age in my dr so why does it matter?" why are you attracted to that child in the first place that you want to shift for them? Answer that, diddy. You're telling me that you see it as perfectly ok for 30 year old shifters to age themselves down to date someone who's 12 or even younger?

"B-b-b-but I'm already that race in my dr so why is it bad?" Maybe it's the fact you're purely using it for aesthetics/fetishization? If you're white, don't argue with me. I am never gonna look at your opinion as valid so you can stop typing on your keyboard now. Go outside.

I'm also so tired of people saying "It's not your dr, why should you care?" As if it's not human to care when people are culturally appropriating my or other people's culture for aesthetics/fetishizations or being pedophilic. Y'all care when people literally MURDER innocent people in other drs, why is it so different with this? Using your logic, we shouldn't care because it's not our dr.

And it’s so ironic that shiftblr proclaims itself as people who don’t spread false information when one of the biggest shiftblr blogs (this is targeting a specific person) is spreading false information like “if you don’t believe ____ you won’t shift.” You are quite literally doing the very thing you hate on shiftok for doing..

This app is FUCKED.

And dont try to debunk my post if you aren’t even gonna read my post in its entirety. Hint hint, you know who you are 😉

[bonefall]

God I am so tired of Bramble fans who refuse to use critical thinking and believe that brambleclaw and squilf are equally bad. Many also hate on moonkitti's video which they most likely haven't even watched or misconstrued points in it. You can like a character without defending all their actions please I'm begging you

And people will sometimes jump to their defense, saying that people just dogpiled them for liking a character the fandom doesn't like, and while that can happen, sometimes people are actually dogpiling them for ignoring abuse and insulting creators with different opinions

(Some discourse happened on Twitter recently about this but it's something I've seen happen before, I'm not specifically talking about anyone)

I'm going to be honest and drop my feelings.

Never have I ever actually SEEN a Bramblefan "get dogpiled" for liking Bramble.

I come out here on my massive soapbox every couple of weeks and drop whole essays on this guy, I chat casually about how important he is to me as a character, both as someone who was abused in a way similar to Squirrelflight AND as someone who can relate to Bramblestar's situation, and before BB got so large and my attention was easier to divide I even ran an AU called Sweet Nothings which had a "big brother" Bramble take in it.

There is no shortage of Bramblestar-related posts around here, yet, I have never, NEVER gotten shit for when I talk positively about Bramble.

In fact, he's commonly cited as one of the favorite cats to see on this blog from my audience. I get praise for addressing him with nuance, explaining how his actions are abuse while also keeping him human, talking about how his life is a painful cycle of self-doubt that makes him double down on his worst decisions. Every time I post about him, I get an influx of comments centered around how my takes on him are appreciated.

What I DO see is people who make art where they try to bothsides him and Squirrelflight, or say something completely false about his behavior, or straightup post DARVO tactics to defend their fav's honor. When someone makes a comment that goes "uhmm? Bit strange innit?" they call it "harassment." Or when people block them, they call that "receiving hate."

OR when someone makes a vaguepost like "Heyyy, DARVO is an abuse denial tactic where the abuser or their apologists Deny the abuse took place, Attack the accuser, and then Reverse Victim and Offender to claim they were actually the person harmed. Bramblestans are playing this out, step for step, and that's bad!" they call THAT dogpiling.

Meanwhile Moonkitti got death threats and was actually harassed for posting Bramblestar Is Worse. To the point where she is hesitant to ever make another video on the topic.

So y'know what? Hot take? The stans don't actually like Bramblestar. They like the vague idea of a sadboy character who broke free from his dad's legacy so they slurp up the framing of the notorious abuse apologist writers, and they get mad when people who have critically engaged with the books don't see what they desperately crave.

How can you really LIKE a character if you can't engage with their actions? If you need to surround yourself in an unpoppable bubble and can't accept anything he's done in the 20+ years he's been active? How can you truly love a man without all his mistakes?

It's sooo hard to be me, Tumblr User Bonefall, the ONLY one who likes Bramblestar correctly. It's rough out here.

[thejohnlockedfemboy]

I finished my original hymn to Ganymede!

I was possessed by the Muses or something at 5 am this morning, idk. It was inspired by "Dionysus" by Tomo. I doubt it's very good, bu I had to get it out of my head :3

Eromenos Ganymede

never had a choice,,

When the eagle snatched him, struggling,,

up into the skies

Cupbearer to replace Hebe,

but only to the king,,

Mighty Zeus,,

Lord of Olympians,,

destruction he does bring.

Did you want this,

Ganymede?

when he took you from your home.

Stripped you helpless from your father,,

of your fate did you bemoan?

Most beautiful of all the mortals,,

a son born to Dardania’s king

Raised tending sheep on Idas’ slopes,,

but destined for much greater things

Phrygian cap upon golden curls,,

skin like ivory, smooth as milk,,

Tongue dripping words as sweet as honey,

changed, now resembling the godly ilk.

A position ever-kneeling,,

krater clutched in one slender hand,,

Mixing wine with gold ambrosia

eternally bound to one ruling man.

His lovely face will never wrinkle,,

his youth will never fade,,

Eyes stay bright despite the sorrow

crushed under a tyrant’s weight.

An insult to the goddess Hera

on ambrosia and false love fed,,

Discarded when erastes became tired,,

of the body warming his bed

Ever moving to greener pastures

always searching for a handsomer face,,

Left Ganymede in his palace,,

unable to do anything but wait

Did you want this,

Ganymede?

as the days bleed into years,,

Head is spinning like a pendulum,,

can you see your future clear?

Once a prince and now a prisoner

clutched in son of Cronos’ fist,,

Does he still come to you in the darkness,,

spreading thighs to take what's not his?

Does his touch burn you,

Ganymede?

Do you feel a flame within?

Is that fire one of pleasure,,

Or hatred of Aegiduchos’ whims?

When the centuries turn to aeons

And humanity crumbles to ash,,

Will the thunder-bringer still command you,,

or will you finally rise up and fight back?

I stand beside you,

Ganymede.

the brother that I never had

I’ll whisper secrets to you without fear,,

prove you’re more than just Zeus’ fad.

My heart walks with you,

Ganymede.

Ignore the leering of the throne

Hold your head high and do not falter,,

for you will never be alone.

I raise worship to you,

Ganymede

In thin-voiced lyrics sung from heart,,

Shallow compared to immortal voices,,

a pale imitation of divine art

I beg your patronage,

Ganymede

Hold my hand into adulthood,,

For you are forever adolescent,,

but I’m forced to become what you never could

Will you forget me,

Ganymede?

When into Underworld I descend,,

Single coin for ferry passage

Could the rules for me you bend?

I cannot ask you,

Ganymede

For anything more than lending your ears,,

So I might perhaps bring you some comfort,,

to help you blink back righteous tears

Don’t let him break you,

Ganymede

give no satisfaction to an egoist’s ploys,,

For you were royal in divination,,

back when you were a mortal boy

You had flesh like me,

Ganymede

We shared the same beating pulse,,

and yet now you are so different,,

but your humanity is not lost

Never forget who you were,

Ganymede

Know that what I say is true,,

I swear it by the Styx’s waters,,

that there are those who do love you.

note: this is NOT a song bashing Zeus, this is merely one interpretation of the mythos and is not meant to be a personal attack on any worshippers of the king of the gods ⚡🪽🍷

@pubbipawz @chronophobiaclown @defronix :3 what do you think?

[notmorbid]

the silt verses, pt. 1.

dialogue prompts from eskew productions' the silt verses.

there are people who are born to the land, and people who are born to water.

someone made a sacrifice, but the angels never came.

they'll never know we were here.

we leave no trace that can't be swallowed up.

come on. i want a goddamn cappuccino.

a god must feed. a god must be fed.

i am already so very tired.

i grew up somewhere like this, you know?

are you sulking?

you don't need to be so offensively blatant.

could you go back to saying you're sorry?

after the stories i've heard, i think i was a little in awe of you.

i'd genuinely like to know more about you. i'd like us to get to know one another.

ask me anything you'd like.

what's your read on ____?

when did you first find your faith? what caused it?

you did say i could ask you anything.

we shouldn't have come out here.

my phone isn't working. i need to use yours.

it's a long time since i've been happy.

i hate you. i've always hated you.

i don't understand what's happening to me.

i don't want to have this conversation.

i'm so proud of you, darling.

people always seem to underestimate ___.

there's nothing false about ___.

nobody'd ever told me that before. that i could be good.

you can come in. i'm not afraid of you.

everyone wants a personal relationship with the divine, but none of us are prepared for the consequences.

i've been here before. i know the signs.

how would you define a domicile?

i didn't say i didn't remember.

tell me more. i think i might understand.

i thought people were supposed to leave notes for each other.

this isn't something anyone should have to deal with.

sometimes when you can't put an end to things, it's better just to keep them stable.

i can't see you, but you're everywhere around me.

i think about you plenty.

you need to talk to me.

you think you don't deserve to be happy? i'm here, and i'm telling you that you do.

if there is a god haunting this place, i don't think it's mine.

you can never quite get away from people, can you?

we're all in danger, and you're wasting my time.

the sun is setting, and these woods are a place you can get lost. that is a certainty.

catch up or stay behind, that's up to you.

is it like you remember it, coming back here?

everything's so overgrown here. it's like this place wants you to lose your way.

there's them that lead, and them that chase.

i need quiet, and space to think.

we're both going to die here.

it's almost funny.

drive, you fool! drive!

they always want answers of you, don't they? i never know what to tell them.

you were back late last night.

you thought you were being subtle?

that sort of thing happens in other towns, but not here.

no escape is truly clean, but at least once you've left, you don't have to look at the mess.

the more people who know the story, the worse it gets.

we each get to choose the thing that eats us.

the things we see when we're young root into us like nothing else.

i dislike people who talk too much.

you should learn to pay attention when other people talk.

i shouldn't have to fight you to give you what you want.

you'll have to learn to live with other people.

what's a life without something to devote itself to?

i never expected to get this far.

you have to believe there's a plan here, or you could use your mind.

strange gods make for strong gods. make something too human, we'll know what to expect from it. something less human, we won't know what it's capable of achieving.

i don't see the use in being so cynical.

you're the best of us. you make me get up in the morning when i don't want to.

survival is not treachery, and i will not feel ashamed for it.

there is no meaningful change that comes without pain.

fucking up is more your vocation than your talent, isn't it?

you don't know what i'm capable of.

you didn't interest me before. you certainly don't frighten me now.

you might as well tell me. you're probably going to kill me, anyway, aren't you?

it takes long enough figuring out how to live with yourself, and then you have to figure out how to live with others.

do you recall when you were last happy? truly happy?

what's the use of a voice, if it goes unheard?

stories are snares, someone told me once.

i have never once known what i am doing.

i don't get out much.

nobody's ever caught me in a lie. they can't make it stick to me.

i have no intention of ever becoming a victim.

[aranock]

I'm tired.

Just sort of in general I am exhausted. I know I put on a brave face a lot, but the hate does get to me. The constant unceasing hatred both offline and online gets to me. I'm human idk what to say. Been thinking a lot about the Bilbo quote, I might be paraphrasing, "I feel like too little butter spread across too much toast."

It's pride month, I should be feeling happy right? I convocated finally after a brutal long degree I should be feeling happy right? I like how my body looks for the first time in my life shouldn't I feel happy?

And I know that's not helpful, that feelings are not a should thing. And yet I feel it anyway :/. Not that I do not feel happy, I would say on average I am better than I have been at any other point in my life. But it does get to me.

I was invited to dinner with a former family member, a blood relative that breached every boundary I placed and even went so far as to accost me in a public space. It's hard watching someone lose all love for you the more you become yourself. Being told I'm an embarrassment to my parents by creeps online stings a lot more now that I had a blood relative say it to my face while aggressively yanking my jacket so I couldn't get away. I know its a lie, I know that this person saying that hurt my parents as much as it did me. Alas, anxiety rarely responds to facts or evidence.

Everytime it feels like I'm fine and over it; this person manages to weasel their way around boundaries to fuck up my mental health for a week. And the thing about chronic illnesses like mine is they flare up quite horrendously when you get stressed and anxious. Anxiety means waking up to acid burnt throat from reflux.

It makes my voice dysphoric all day.

I think deep down one of my greatest fears is that I am unlovable, that everyone around me secretly hates me and is just waiting for the excuse to finally be rid of interacting with me. I am terrified that I am a burden. Mortified by the false belief that I am broken.

Despite how horrific my childhood adolescence and some of my early adulthood were, my family was at least a safe place. I recognize that I was privileged to have that. With that said I think the reason this whole thing has rocked me so much is that it violated that one last place I felt safe. It has made me doubt the love of those I never thought I would.

Sometimes transphobia feels like drowning, and if you try to swim for air everyone decides to shove you further down cause actually it's proof you are faking needing breath.

I text someone anytime I go run errands, just to make sure someone knows. Had too many experiences of hate. I get anxious when I go to get groceries; will this be the time I get hit by a vehicle driven by a far right transphobe, am I going to get called a slur again, will the store staff get suspicious of me and search through all my groceries to make sure I actually paid for it. But please, tell me how I don't know what its like to be oppressed. When men sexually harass, catcall, creepily hit on, follow me around clearly I am not at all experiencing sexism. Obviously the real worst thing in the world is that women "cancel" people on the internet, and trans people exist. Did they think sending me hateful articles would suddenly make me go "oh yes clearly its all in my head, please genocide my community, I stand for nothing and have the moral backbone of a slug."

I don't really know why I'm writing this, I dont usually feel or desire to express something like this publicly. I will probably delete it later. Maybe I disappear into writing cause its easier to deal with the feelings that way. That at least then someone gets something out of my pain. That maybe it helps to condense emotional mountains to the mole hills of short strokes of a pen or presses of a key. To let them explode outward in a flurry of thoughts and words that others look at and say "I too have felt this, you are not alone, you are not wrong for feeling this way."

Anything to take the weight of it all off my chest for a second.

Because I am tired.

I'm exhausted really.

I don't want to be brave or strong or resilient. It's tiring to bear the weight of that and a billion projections. Atlas does not bear the heavens upon his shoulders because he is strong or brave. He bears it because he has no other choice. Because people put it on him.

I just want to exist; that is apparently too much to ask for as a trans woman.

If you are concerned, please don't worry I'll be fine, I was fine every other time after all. This too shall pass. But right now it hurts.

And I have had my fill of hurt for many lifetimes.