#longing for comfort

[furiousgoldfish]

abused kids daydreaming: but what if there was a situation where I got hurt... and someone cared and comforted me? what then??

abused kids: oh no I'm selfish and stupid for imagining this! How could I think my pain would matter enough for someone to comfort me, I need to get over myself and start living in the real life! Comfort doesn't exist and if I'm not tough I'm not going to make it!

[catmask]

does anyone have like an anti aesthetic. like something you look at and can recognize as a complete fashion/interior design/artistic movement and understand it but it makes you shudder seeing it. i am not talking like “its morally bad” “its poorly structured” like just sheerly devoid of joy for you actually invites a repulse response.

[hansoeii]

Ghosts! 👻

[canisalbus]

Literally cannot remember if you’ve already drawn something like this but I think of Vaschete everytime I see In Bed by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

I may have a particular fondness for this subject.

[billiewena]

thinking about how the only time bobby and cas interact in season four is when he knocks him out cold to talk to dean alone. and the next time bobby sees him, cas is powerless and just comes to steal dean's necklace in a weird interaction that had to be filmed close-up because dean and cas are just inches from each other's face. the next time is an offscreen interaction where he just gets dean's address from bobby and probably left immediately after. combine this with the fact that bobby knew dean had a male siren the season before (and tried to be supportive) and let cas be in the family photo a few episodes later, there is a nonzero chance bobby singer was the first destiel shipper.

[nipuni]

14 and not 14 😌

[magic-worms]

trying to articulate my thoughts on the 7th tf2 comic confirmation by using the tf2 characters to articulate those thoughts

[xochimillilili]

Hey come here puppy, come here and sit on my lap honey, let me hold you~ That's my puppy, just lay on my chest, yes just like that my love, rest your pretty little puppy head and let all those thoughts fall out~

You've had quite a long day haven't you pup? Look at you, your eyes are all sleepy and pretty, your cute lil tired smile n frown, your hair all fluffed up from being so busy all day... it's alright my sweetheart, I've got you, I'm staying here with you all night

Let me help put your collar on baby, you're just a little puppy after all, you just focus on getting yourself comfy love~

We can do anything you like my precious pup, we can cuddle here in bed or I'll sit next to you while you're snug in your little doggie bed. I can run you a nice bath and try to rub and scrub all your worries away, even just for a bit honey. We can watch something you like, or I can tell you a story, we can nap or do some nice coloring while I brush your hair all soft

You're my precious darling little puppy love, my good puppy who I'm so sooo very proud of, I'll always want to hold and care for you after a long day, you're the one I love~

[autismdeathglare]

Ya know what shout out to butches who wrestle with our butchness because we don’t fit the mold in some way. Butches who aren’t physically strong or naturally caretaking because of physical disability, who need to be cared for, who can’t hold open the door for a femme. Butches with long hair, butches with big hair, butches who express their culture via their hair. Butches who’s masculinity is shaped by their culture, who’s masculinity doesn’t fit the white eurocentric mold. Fat butches, butches with curves viewed as feminine, butches who don’t have skinny, boyish builds. Butches who don’t want to be sexualized, butches on the ace spectrum. Butches who don’t have traditionally masculine interests or mannerisms or whatever. Effeminate butches. Butches who take inspo from gay men. Butches who like the occasional dress or skirt. TRANSFEM BUTCHES!!!!! And any other butches who don’t fit a certain mold!! All butches are good butches and we are all valid.

[maddiesharafian]

[pitsazawr]

my oxygen

[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.

[twistcmyk]

damn you history channel

[slvtforfiction]

Ghost who took his mask off in front of you for the first time,making you quickly turn around.

“Can look lovie.” He mumbles as he climbs into bed.

“I didn’t see anything,I promise I won’t tell anyone.” You whisper,scared of the consequences.

“Love,calm down,you can see my face.” He says as he sits on the edge of the bed,holding your waist from the back as he waits for you to turn around once more.

“Are you sure?” You ask after years of not seeing his face,waiting patiently for the handsome man to reveal himself.

By the time Simon had actually taken off his mask it felt wrong to look. You knew he wouldn’t take off his mask infront of anyone…so, why you?

By the time you cautiously turn around to look at him,your paralysed staring at his face,your eyes roaming past the scars,to his eyes,towards his hair and then to his lips.

You kissed him softly with a smile.

“Handsome.” You whispered as you clambered into bed beside him.

“Tell anyone and I kill ya’” he mumbles quietly as he lets you curl into his chest,slowly falling asleep.

“I know.” You mumble quietly before falling asleep,your head on his chest as he wraps his arms around you firmly.

[potato-lord-but-not]

human John anyone ????

[kiisaes]

fuckass birthday cake