#part of me is like. its hopeless. and the other part of me is like. its not worth thinking about just chill

[shadyhouse]

making a new post bc the other one is pretty bulky, im about to be severely overdrafted when i pay my rent in a few days and i really really really cant let that happen :( pls if you have anything to spare i'd appreciate it, im in the process of finding a new job because my current one refuses to give me hours. im transmasc and i dont have a car so finding a job has been difficult but im doing everything i can to make ends meet. even just spreading this around helps

pp: paypal.me/bewearrr

vnm: tobias_leviathan

thank you 🥺💕

90/450

[majoryeager104]

i have another request :33333333333333333

How would Dabi or Hawks react to coming to their artist s/o room and seeing her face, hands and clothes covered in paint? :33

omg I love ur requestssss these are so cute 🙌

Hawks

Keigo wandered into your apartment as usual, some snacks in a crinkly plastic bag as he sauntered through the balcony door. He always entered like this- unannounced, with snacks, from the windows or the balcony, like a bird into its nest, because that’s what your place was to him. “hey babe I’m-“ he peeked into your bedroom, where you sat, cross legged on a big flat piece of cardboard, absolutely covered in paint. Hair, face, clothes, even the backs of your legs were smeared in colors where you’d lazily wiped it away. “Oh hey Keigo!” You grinned, waving a painted hand at him. He let out a snort, walking in and crossing his arms, a wide grin on his face. “You sure made a mess” he chuckled, sitting on the corner of your bed. You pouted a bit, hiding a small smile “I mean I put down cardboard,” you shrugged, gesturing to the large flat piece of cardboard beneath you.

It too was a total mess of blues, yellows, pinks, an array of colors that mixed and contrasted against the sad beige. He glanced down at the canvas in front of you. It was large, and it looked like you were making a landscape. It was pretty. Really pretty. Meow all the colors made sense, the way they blended and shaped the painting, providing their own shades and highlights to advance the setting you’d so meticulously crafted. he grinned, running a hand through your hair, little specks of paint dappling the ends of it. “It looks lovely. Have you eaten?” “Uhhhhh-“ “don’t tell me you skipped lunch too” he sighed at your silence as you closed your mouth, not wanting to dig yourself a bigger hole. He rolled his eyes, placing a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, I brought snacks, and I can heat up some leftover pizza…you’d be so hopeless without me” he said the last part ever so dramatically, leading you to giggle and shake your head, flustered by how much you didn’t want to admit he might be right. He stood, walking back towards the door, still glancing back a few times to see the array of colors surrounding you, admiring how- of course you looked beautiful like this. He grinned, leaning back on the door frame “oh and babe?” He chirped, watching your bright eyes glance back at him. “It really does look nice… not as nice as its artist though” he winked dramatically once more before sweeping out, leaving you to shake your head and smile at his antics.

Dabi

It was an average day for Touya, doing his usual rounds with the league, looking for new recruits, burning said recruits alive because they annoyed him, and then walking home, and by home, he means to your place. He kicked off his boots once he was inside, knowing you wouldn’t be too appreciative of him tracking dirt in. “Hey doll where’re ya at” he said with a stretch, finally relaxing within the confines of your flat. “I’m in the living room!” He sighed, smiling to himself as he heard your soft voice from the other room. He turned the corner, and-

“Did you get jumped by crayons or somethin”

you snorted at his comment, turning to look at him. His brow was furrowed, and he scoffed at the sight of your face. Mainly because nearly every inch of you was smeared in paint. “No, I’m painting” you replied, turning back to your project. he scoffed once more, coming closer to peer over your shoulder. The painting was focused on a cherry blossom tree, the bright pinks and faint reds shading them contrasting the light blue of the pond behind it. “Nice.” He said gruffly, plopping down comfortably next to you. “Don’t know why it required you to be so…messy, though” he eyed you up and down, smirking, his amused expression outweighing his snarky remarks- it was clear he found this to be absolutely adorable.

“I didn’t mean to… it kinda just happens, you know?” You shrugged, giggling softly as you glanced back at your artwork. He eyed you for a moment, his smirk widening into a smile. “So this happens often then?” He teased, gently nudging your shoulder. “You mean if I get here early enough I’ll get to catch you being messy? i mean, I have to leave my boots at the door, but you can practically eat paint and it’s fine?” He laughed, kissing your painted cheek with a Cheshire Cat grin. You rolled your eyes, gesturing towards the cardboard beneath you. “I laid down cardboard” you offered, and he scoffed once more, grinning impossibly wider. “Doesn’t seem like it helped. You’re really something, you know that? Don’t worry, it‘s why I love ya so much… I’ll go make some tea, cos it looks like you won’t be done for a while” he dragged out his last word, ruffling your already messy hair as he stood, looking down at you and your little project. He couldn’t help but find your current circumstances to be adorable, but he’d much rather tease you than admit that to your face. Much more fun that way.

Onggg @yippe3allthedamnnamesrtaken you have the best requests EVER 🙏😭🫶

also I’m fully aware that at some point now autocorrected to meow, but I honestly found it to fun to fix it hehe

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 3

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language, drug use and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3

Law

Zoro-ya…

Zoro

DON'T.

Law

We've passed by the same block thrice.

Zoro growls. His fists clench as he continues to stubbornly walk ahead of the other man.

Law

Are you seriously this hopeless at directions?

Zoro

Shut up!! We're here.

Law cautiously looks around. His assumption was correct–the green-head is an idiot.

Law

We're in a damp back alley that smells like piss, in the middle of the night, behind some–

Just as Law is about to take another step, a couple of drunken men get roughly thrown out from a tavern and onto the stone footpath in front of him. The bouncer yells unruly curses their way and slams the door behind him. Law sighs, exasperated, and proceeds to follow Zoro, stepping over the writhing drunkards without a care.

Law

Lovely. Look, just tell me where you want to go and I'll take us there. We've wasted enough time already. Are you even sure that we’re on the right island?

Zoro

Shut up. This is the right place. I’m sure of it…this time.

Oh good, they haven't cleared it out yet.

Zoro confidently walks towards a large metal rubbish bin near yet another shoddy tavern. He readjusts the swords around his waist, and jumps up onto the container. The top half of his body hangs over the opening and the bottom half flails his legs to offset his balance to make sure he doesn't fall all the way in.

Disgusted, Law covers his face with his arm, glaring at Zoro's behind.

Law

You said you can get us in touch with the Pirate King.

Zoro ignores the man and proceeds to dig through the trash, arms deep. Some of the contents spill over the edge, and some he chucks in random directions by hand.

Law

Ugh… Is digging through the trash really how we get to him? It took us two whole days to travel just to get here for this?

Zoro

FOUND YOU!

With a couple of kicks in the air, Zoro's feet fall on the ground. He has his hands cupped together close to his chest. He quickly shuffles past Law, avoiding eye contact, and begins to whisper into his hands as he finds a quiet dark corner while his back is turned towards the other man.

Zoro

I need you working for me now. Come on.

…

I'm sorry I threw you away. I was afraid that you were tapped. Or that you'll explode.

…

C'mon. Just…I'll feed you extra or something. What do you guys like again?

Law's patience is wearing very thin. He approaches Zoro, tapping him on the shoulder with the handle of his own sword.

Law

Zoro-ya, what's going on?

Zoro jolts. He turns his head to look at Law over his shoulder. His ears have turned red. In the palm of his hand, two tiny curious orbs peek over at the doctor.

Law blinks in surprise, looking at the transponder snail with two curly brows above its eyes.

—

At the other end of the line, a den-den mushi with one eye awakens from its peaceful nap.

Den-den Mushi

Purupurupurupuru

A delicate hand answers the call. He lifts the snail’s handset close to his face.

Sanji

Hello?

My beloved! What can I do for you?

Mhmm… Uh-huh. Huh.

That sounds like fun. Sure, I'll help you.

I'll see you soon, my love.

Den-den Mushi

Click

The call put Sanji in a pleasant mood. He is on his bed, reading a book on his stomach while smoking a joint. The one-eyed transponder snail readjusts its shell happily before hiding inside itself comfortably for another long snooze. Sanji thinks that's a great idea, and snuggles himself further in the overly large pink feather coat that draped over him like a blanket, bumping the wavy red sunglasses that sat on his forehead.

Doflamingo shifts in reaction. He is splayed naked next to him with his hands behind his head, resting comfortably against an especially large pillow that looks proportional to his massive figure.

Doflamingo

“My beloved,” hmm? Who was it?

Sanji

None of your god damn business, you ugly fuck.

Doflamingo lets out a deep sinister chuckle.

Doflamingo

This your new toy?

Sanji

He used to be.

Doflamingo

The swordsman, eh? I'm glad to hear that you're making progress.

Sanji

Thanks, cunt.

Doflamingo turns his head slightly, nodding at Sanji's hand with the stick.

Doflamingo

Pass it here.

Sanji stretches his hand and gently places the joint between Doflamingo's lips, giving him a chance to take a long deep drag.

As thanks, Doflamingo holds the air in his lungs, leans over and captures Sanji's lips onto his to breathe the smoke directly into his mouth, making the other man moan deliciously. He takes the hint and pushes further in, shoving his long pointed tongue further down his throat.

Sanji lets him flip him onto his back, welcoming his full weight by spreading his legs wide so the large man can fit between his figure. He opens his mouth, giving him further access.

After a few moments of exchanging deep penetrating kisses, Sanji exhales the smoke out through his nose. He pulls back slightly to look Doflamingo in the eyes.

Sanji

Don't touch him, okay?

Doflamingo

You're no fun.

Sanji

I'm serious.

At this point, Doflamingo knows when he can push his luck and when he can't, especially with that tone in his voice. He raises a hand, telling the other man that he won't bother him further about it. Shifting back onto his pillow, he returns his gaze to the blue and the green-haired commanders standing guard by the doorway. They'd been assigned to make sure that he behaves himself which is the usual routine, but nevertheless he finds it entertaining that they always refuse to watch the show directly in front of them or make any eye contact at all.

Doflamingo 

Think the blue one will actually let me have a go at him this time?

Sanji

Only if you want your dick bitten off, darling.

----------

A little drink to quench the thirst. Doffy is a big boy.

[dreadfuldevotee]

literally atp my main desire for iwtv going forward is that they dont tone down the fact that everyone is obsessed with eachother. Yes, because thats how 70 percent of the plot happens in the first place but also because im so petty and the "who is in love with who" arguing makes me want to shoot this place up

[claitea]

joining you in the pla ruined my life club. also the idea that people confessing to volo about how much they liked him and they wish he wouldn’t have turned all evil on him would actually make him feel worse bc they just liked a facade? man. trying to hurt me huh. it’s like he’s allergic to genuine connection and is obsessed with making people hate him for no reason

YEAHHH ITS LIKE. what i like abt pokemas's volo is that we're getting a better look at exactly how he thinks and feels and what it is is that he literally. cannot identify when people are being positive to him anymore. he is Always on the defensive as a survival tactic so Everything must be treated as some kind of slight against him or a manipulation. because clearly something happened in the past to make him that distrustful! he literally cannot afford to trust again or whatever made him be this way could happen to him again!

what volo needs is a friend. but he wouldnt know one even if they fell from the sky, collected the plates and then beat his ass at spear pillar.

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

3l!grian is frequently depicted as a tragic figure and sometimes i wonder if we even watched the same series

[sweet-milky-tea705]

Idk why i never feel like im allowed to think about my future. Probs a little depression thing but idk.

[kimtranssexler]

very very very sad drunk

[guruguruguruguru]

the longer i sit with it the more it really gets me how nobody ever really mentions obito and rin before obito's reveal in shippuden. kakashi vaguely mentions his old friends and i think other characters allude to the tragedy of kakashi's past but rin and obito themselves are lost to time. something about that is so fucking haunting and so gutting. you would think it would be a pretty big deal that two kids from the same class died within a year of each other, but the nine tails attack probably wiped so much clean that nobody could really carry the grief... still, when we see their class in flashbacks, we recognise almost everyone else, so... there's something really sad and hopeless about their absence...

there's a lot a LOT to say about it from a lot of different angles and i don't really feel like going into meta posting territory i just have big feelings about it you know? and to me i guess obito encapsulates a lot of the anger. for the people who get left behind and forgotten. and that can mean a lot of things

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

aroace joy vs aroace loneliness fight

[the-yearning-astronaut]

.

[femmefaggot]

if lasting integrity has one hater it is me etc etc

[littlest-bugz]

Honey!! Wake Up!!! It's time for BUGZ to go through the 'emotional detachment is killing me' phase again!

[lunarflare64]

I don't typically add things in reblogs like this but beware, my rambling in the tags is long-winded. Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind just brings that out of me sometimes

Moment of truth...

Keep in mind: I ONLY included the films in which (according to Wikipedia), Miyazaki was the SOLE director. The only one I couldn't squeeze on here was his latest work post-retirement (How Do You Live?). Also, alas, none of the other Ghibli films count, so don't ask for Arietty, or Grave of the Fireflies, etc.

Godspeed and happy voting! ❤

[tpwrtrmnky]

By far the most effective psyop that the 4chan/adjacent websites' misery stew inflicts on its users is the idea that they're just hated for having problems, rather than the reality which is that they are having those problems exploited to radicalize them into insular hate communities that want them to alienate anyone not in the community, and that they are being manipulated into alienating everyone who could support them.

So much of the criticism I've gotten for the orangecel desaturatoid comic on twitter boils down to "you simply do not understand that my way of coping with dysphoria by going to the dysphoria worsening website and stewing in misery is necessary, because your dysphoria is simply lesser. Stop invalidating my dysphoria, which is more real than yours, and demands that I do this."

This illustrates a fundamental part of how these communities operate: Anyone who criticizes the way they operate must simply be the Other that they build up in their minds. It's all reflexive ways to dismiss outsiders. Chad/passoids/normies simply do not understand. Nobody in the out-group has any familiarity with how it feels, nobody has ever gotten out, nobody is telling you that this is bad for you from experience.

It's absolutely baffling watching these barely even adults say that I, someone who transitioned in my mid-20s, can't possibly understand what dysphoria is like. I was so uncomfortable being perceived at all as a teenager that I simply did not go outside. I lived in MMOs. Until I learned that voice training was possible I was so hopeless about even trying transition that I didn't dare to consider the option.

I would stay up hours past midnight in meaningless fucking arguments on 4chan that served no other purpose than to make me miserable. I fucking know how you feel because I was you, and I am telling you, get the fuck out of there.

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ "𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐨, 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝…" | xiao, childe, alhaitham x gn!reader

�� "𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!"」

— in which you've gotten drunk... drunk enough to fail to recognize your own lover.

— silly fluff. soft xiao, had this one in the drafts for far too long and its about time i choke it out... happy white day !!

the moment your slurred words reached his ears, XIAO knew that he never should've let you get your hands on that cursed rice wine.

in a way, he supposed it could be his fault. the one time he had decided to indulge in trivial mortal matters like alcohol due to your constant insistence... well, just look at you.

red-faced, the tips of your ears and cheeks stuck in a helplessly drunken flush, you babbled incoherently with half of your face smushed against the table. xiao could only stare in contempt as you feebly reached towards the already-emptied bottle,

( xiao had taken one sip and refused any more indulgence, claiming it was bitter, when in fact, you had gone out of your way to find a sweeter drink ),

and sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose with a certain disillusionment.

"come on, you're getting to bed." the man was just about done with your hopeless actions. he grabbed your wrist and tugged, only to be met with resistance. you're pouting like a child, brows furrowed lazily as you stare upwards at him.

"nnno. m'not going with you."

"...excuse me?" what in the archons was the problem now? he tugged again, this time with a small margin of force, and was met with an even larger pull back, this time paired with a low whine. "hey, it's late, and all the wine is gone, so just comply with me won't you?"

"i already told you... i have a husband..."

your complaint met the cool night air and the adeptus' silence. his lips were slightly parted as his round eyes blinked once, then twice, in a sort of stunned stupor. "...love, i am that husband."

archons, how had he found himself such a foolish mortal to love?

"don't lie to me!" you shook your head profusely, wiggling around in his grasp relentlessly until the adeptus had no choice but to let go. "i know my husband when i see him... and he's way handsomer than you, stupid..." you stared him up and down with squinting eyes, eyeing the way his ears were beginning to turn pink, and sat heavily in thought as you pondered the man before you.

definitely not your husband.

idiot. with a huff, he easily hauled your body over his shoulder as if carrying something as trivial as a sack of potatoes. you hung loosely over, landing a couple weak punches on his back as you proceeded to prattle on, your defiance seemingly having little effect.

then, you were silent, and xiao had to look back to make sure you hadn't gotten hurt. sure, he had considered once or twice leaving you out there all passed out on the balcony, but not without reason, yet he'd decided against it. you seemed fine, mouth hung slightly ajar as you snoozed peacefully, your eyes shut and cheeks still warm from what you'd downed. the audacity to fall asleep... xiao couldn't deny that his sigh was one of fondness.

"night, this husband of yours loves you."

strange, wasn't the wine from liyue supposedly far less intense compared to the vodka CHILDE had tried back home?

that, or the people here simply were more susceptible when it came to the topic of intoxication. you were no exception — he'd taken you out drinking, his mistake, thinking it'd be an easy, splendid time.

and don't get him wrong, it was! not just, well... conversation was rather hard to make when the other person was practically unconscious. you're practically splayed across the mahogany table, eyes nearly drooped close and fire across your cheeks.

you giggled. it's a muddled sound, when you're mostly mumbling into the table. "hhhey, pour me another glass~"

childe scans your less-than-ideal state and procures an answer in a little under a second. "love, you've had too many."

you seem shocked at his words, leaning forwards a little with narrowed eyes. your figure sways as you shake your head lazily, from side to side. "wwhhhat? nnno, that can't be right..."

the man holds back an amused chuckle. it's entertaining. "and how many fingers am i holding up?" he holds up just one hand, displaying a reasonable amount of three.

there's a beat of silence. "...nineteen?" you blink a couple times, as if to shake you out of your stupor. "...nineteen," this time, with confidence.

childe claps his hands together, a sudden sound that makes you startled, and he moves to apologize immediately. "we're getting you to bed, love. clearly you've had more alcohol than you can handle."

"what, was i wrong??" there's tears forming in your eyes, and your lips tug downwards in a frown. "u-uhm, fifteen? nno, four...?"

"still incorrect, love. i'm afraid it's time for you to go to sleep. you'll wake up with a hell of a hangover tomorrow morning, but..." he sighed, thinking back to his time in shneznaya, then made a mental note to prepare you a hangover drink in the morning. his hand found its familiar place in your hand, unnaturally warm with your skin rosy from the alcohol. he smiled, turning to glance at you, but ceased when he saw you on the ground, tears now falling from your eyes, quietly sobbing as you shook your head back and forth.

panic immediately sets in. what has he done wrong?? "love, what-"

"nnnno, don't call me that..." you squinted upwards at him, looking quite displeased. "no 'love', 'kaaay? i'm not your love, mister."

he paused. wait, you didn't possibly think that... "love-" oh, old habits died hard, and the word had already left his lips before he could process what you'd said.

"i have a husband, you!!" in some sort of fit, or perhaps better worded as a tantrum, you stood, wrenching yourself from his grip and then hitting him repeatedly in the shoulders, chest, anywhere your fists could reach, really. the alcohol had surely affected your capabilities of combat — you missed half the time, and what punches did land caused no pain at all.

as your anger subsided, your step faltered, body swaying in the open air before childe reached over to catch you in his arms. he was concerned, naturally. "lov- are you alright?" his worry only grew when he heard no response, but it ebbed with a chuckle when he saw you were already fast asleep in his arms, snoozing without a care in the world.

"a husband, hm? whoever it is, he must quite be the gentleman..."

ALHAITHAM knew his night was fated to end in idiocy the moment you knocked on his door.

it didn't even strike him that you were holding wine, of all things, when you waltzed into his house like it was your own. sure, it wasn't as if these occasions weren't frequent, but really anyone would be surprised to glance up from a quiet reading session only to see their (annoying) lover pressed against the door, repeatedly calling out his name in a sing-song, satire-like voice.

like... calling a cat. it was a realization he made with not too much contentment. silently, he thanked the archons that kaveh was not home — they knew that he could not handle the both of you.

it was only when you sat down at his table, where he'd been reading up to the point when you barged in, that he noticed. green-tinted glass, a little wind motif on the front... dandelion wine from mondstadt. now, just how did you get your hands on that?

"connections," you had stated. with a note of pride, he might add. what, was he supposed to congratulate you on being able to talk to other people? even he, a person who generally hated people, could do that.

ah, but he didn't hate it. your voice, that is, when you rambled on for hours on end. he didn't have the heart to interrupt you, especially when you were so heated on a topic — be it work troubles, an especially annoying sailor, or you accidentally dropping your pita pocket into the water when walking along the port, he didn't mind.

"...mmbottle. haaithammm, the bottle..." your drunk complaints reach his ears, and he his irritation is more so disrupted with inward amusement as he watches you in the predicament you've landed yourself in.

"the bottle?" he questions, raising an eyebrow. his hands are crossed over his chest; he's clearly getting a ruse out of this. "just what would you need the bottle for, love?"

your eyebrows scrunch together. he can tell your brain is working at its max capacity. "...im. thirsty?"

"you've already drunk two thirds of this bottle." he holds said bottle high above your head, hopelessly far from your reach. "if you're so thirsty, drink water."

"i don wanna."

"..."

"just... one drop?"

"hah..." he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply, and places a hand on your shoulder. you barely react, and don't even glance at the sudden weight. "love, you're staying over. you're going to bed."

"bed...?" horror crosses your face, paired with evident irritation. "y...you, who do you think you are, to suggest such things!?" your face is bright red, and you're hugging yourself with one arm and pointing an accusing finger towards the male with the other. "i have a husband!!"

ah. "...what's his name?"

"and why do youuuu want to know?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously at him, but seem to come up with an answer to your own question, for you answer him anyhow. "haitham."

"do you love this 'haitham'?" alhaitham's enjoying himself. when he teases the sober you, all you do is retort back, but now... he can see your flustered expression on full display as you stammer out an answer.

"o-of course! a-and, if you wanted to know, he's waaaaay handsomer.. than ... you..."

just like that, you topple over and sink into the couch, knocked unconscious. a trace of a smile crosses alhaitham's lips as he looks at your sleeping form.

"fortunately for you, this 'haitham' you speak of loves you too."

(a/n) bye i was gonna add kaveh to this one too but i realized oh fuck its white day i said id post a month ago what the fuck am i doing so i just like regurgitated this out and spat it onto your dashboard. ahodfjlds

tags (id paste the aesthetic thing but i cant find it so we're just gonna roll w this):

@manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @ @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima