#socorro booking

[dirtytransmasc]

Spider has lacked control over himself his entire life. He is human in everyone's eyes, and that goes further with being Q's son. He has suffered because of his outward appearance. been judged and rejected.

and that may never change, but he can make himself feel right in his own skin. he can change himself how he pleases. he can be in control. can look how he wants. for himself and no one else.

he'll mold himself into a whole new creature, one meant for the forest, one that is alien from both Human and Na'vi, one that is one of a kind. he'll paint his face until you can't find Q's face in it. he'll stretch and cut his ears till they no longer resembles a humans. he'll tattoo his stripes in place permanently.

it's an outlet for all the feelings in his chest. he has words for them. and understanding of what they are. a way to process all the stress and pain he's felt.

if those around him can't accept him as he is, he'll change himself till he's happy. and if someone tries to stop him, someone tells him they think he's perfect as he is, he'll be able to stand up for himself and say "it's not for you, it's for me. what makes me happy."

he's no longer confined to his people view him. no one gets to control him with critiques of his existence.

even if he never goes through with a major mod, just him dabbling helps him view his body as his own. as something to cherish and love, because others opinions don't matter and nothing is permanent and he can do as he pleases. he can decide to stay the same just as much as he can decided to alter it. he can have peace.

[breadnabreadd]

✦ IT'S RED BOY!!!!

✦ This is @digitaldoeslmk 's Red Son from from By The Book AU!!

I LOVE HIS DESIGN SO MUCH IT IS SO PERFECT SMDMDNND-- I NEEDED TO DRAW THE BOY!!!

PARDAL YOU DO SUCH GOOD DESIGNS UGHHH I LOVE YOUR WOOORRKKK💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

+ Close Up

[madwormm]

when that one hyperfixation finally ends:

[anxiousdreamcore]

“Somewhere above the middle of Canadian wilderness, a single-engine plane flies on its way to Alaska, a 14 year old boy it’s only passenger.

Somewhere above the tall pines, it’s pilot has a heart attack mid flight and falls limb in his seat.

Somewhere above the beautiful lake, this plane abruptly falls, crashing through the trees and into the water.

Somewhere in these woods…

Brian Robeson is all alone, with nothing but a hatchet on his belt.”

.

Recently read Hatchet and I’m absolutely obsessed with it 🥰 got really inspired and had to make some fan-covers! The story is extremely tense, keeping you on your toes until the very end, and Brian himself is a very likeable character that not only learns the ways of the forest, but builds a type of spiritual connection with it, respects its power and the power of the creatures that inhabit it.

.

.

(Do not repost my artwork on any other platform, with or without credit. I DO NOT give my consent to do so and I will find out🤭)

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Jake, when Neytiri comes back after the kids knocked over a plant: Did you handle it? Yell at them, take away their toys? 

Neytiri, laughing: Yes, it is handled. It was the plant doing the least well. It was the best one to kill. And Spider isn’t scarred for life.

Jake, seriously: Great parenting. High five.

[nightlyteaandpaper]

One thing I find funny about the narration of Avatar 2 is the idea that everyone just assumes that Quaritch cares about Spider. Yes, we, the audience, know he does, but everyone else in the story does not--even Quaritch didn't know he cared about Spider until the boat scene.

When Neytiri snatched Spider and held that knife to his throat, she was gambling, she won the gamble, but she was gambling that Spider meant ANYTHING to Quaritch. His being alive and well while in his clutches is insufficient evidence to support her thought process. What made Mrs. Sully think that Spider served any point to Quartich at all? What made Mrs. Sully believe that even if she turned that kid into sashimi right in front of Quartich, he would let her daughter go?

She gambled hard and won.

Anyway, go support my fanfiction:

The Battle Within Chapter 1: Miles, an avatar fanfic | FanFiction

[blackribbonswithcoal]

gente como usa isso

[hoje--aqui]

Oração pra Desaparecer — ALCIOLI, Socorro 2023

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[snoopers-gonna-snoop]

“Angels like you” is Spider Socorro coded.

[lilithspade]

Leitura #18 de 2025

A cabeça do santo

Socorro Acioli

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Eu amei! A escrita da Socorro é simples, mas transmite muito bem os conflitos emocionais do protagonista.

Eu adoro histórias de cidadezinhas pequenas no meio do nada que tem uma forte conexão religiosa. Ainda melhor quando é cenário de um realismo mágico, caso deste livro, ou um livro de terror.

Esse livro é leve ao mesmo tempo que consegue ser bem impactante. Mal posso esperar para ler mais obras dessa autora.

[ah-vida-segue-07]

Eu creio, eu espero, eu amo, mas tem horas que as forças e esperanças esgotam , tem tanta coisa acontecendo e sugando nossa fé. Eu não queria nada do mundo , nada pra prejudicar as pessoas como tantas , se Deus conhece meu coração, se ele me vê das várias vezes que explico a ele, e já que tudo vê e sabe e ele me conhece. Então eu só queria sair desse sufoco, ter o que comer, parar de ficar pedindo um aqui outro ali , passar fome doii, olhar pra geladeira e não ter nada doe, ai a pessoa vai dizer , vai arrumar um emprego e trabalhar, como ? Se eu fizer isso vou piorar o que ja me deixou doente. Tenho problemas sério de saúde, só que as pessoas não perguntam, ela do acham que sua vida é normal. Se eu fizer esforço , ou pegar peso, posso parar uma cadeira de roda. Ahhh como ei queria esta trabalhando, mas tinha dia que eu fazia 3 serviços fora de casa ,e chegava em casa ainda fazia de tudo, quantas vezes 01:00 da manhã eu estava lava do roupa , fazendo faxina , e comida pra deixar pro outro dia e comer porque eu nem almocei só bilisquei . Hoje mau do conta de arrumar minha própria casa , tô aqui sentada olhando pro armário , pensando como poderia limpar ele, não posso levantar os braços, não posso subir em escada ou cadeira, tô passando por um propósito, mas pra qual finalidade .

Sei que Deus é Jesus tem que socorrer pessoas que estão passando por situações piores que as minhas. Eu só queria um luz no final do túnel, uma passagem pra atravessar essa porta que estou vivendo e superar. ESTÁ de hoje .

[fierce-little-miana]

The highlighted part translates as “So to you - and only to you - I am going to tell my story. I do not divulge it to a lot of people. Actually, you are the first person I am going to tell it to. It will be our little secret. And, as surely as the night follows the day, I am certain that you will keep it to yourself, that you will take it to your grave.” (translation mine, bolded text mine)

I love how ominous this last part sounds. It comes after two pages of the narrator doing his very best to say “oh boy I hope you are not wary of me, I am a nice person don’t worry, you are safe with me” in a cutesy kind of way that also as a manic quality that screams that there is something not right with said narrator.

Sorry mister interlocutor, the narrator is definitely going to kill you 😔.

(Extract from Du roi je serai l’assassin by Jean-Laurent Del Socorro)

[marigabicb]

Socorro!

Escojo este titular un tanto provocativo para ilustrar la entrada de hoy. Es también el titulo del libro de Lucy Raven, recién publicado por Mack, un libro fantástico hecho de radiografías (shadowgrams), hechas con una enorme caja negra construida expresamente para la ocasión. Copias únicas de gelatina de plata sacadas en un lugar de ensayos atómicos en Nuevo México. Ese lugar, llamado Socorro,…

[mal-studyblr]

tagged by @selkiestudies to share 9 books i want to read in 2025!! “hey mal isn’t that 10 books?” well, dear reader, the only thing better than 9 books is 10 books soooo…

1. the essential emily dickinson - emily dickinson

2. cleopatra and frankenstein - coco mellors

3. the book of pleasures - clarice lispector

4. the year of magical thinking - joan didion

5. i who have never known men - jacqueline harpman

6. oração para desaparecer - socorro acioli

7. happening - annie ernaux

8. a room of one’s own - virginia woolf

9. on earth we’re briefly gorgeous - ocean vuong

10. we used to live here - marcus kliewer

tagging @ben-learns-smth @thatfrenchacademic @adelinestudiess and whoever else wants to do this!

[dirtytransmasc]

LITERALLY

Fanfics of Sully kids, i have a message............

And My kid spider? He's his brother too 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i need more fanfics of Sully Kids WITH SPIDER, fr

[dirtytransmasc]

Stripes - The Birth of a Strange Boy

Miles Javier Socorro was born in a spare exam room in the quiet hum of night, when there wasn’t anyone roaming the halls except some patrol staff at the checkpoints. His father wasn’t present, and that was probably a good thing, in the end. He came out screaming, his lungs strong and healthy. He weighed in at 8 pounds and 12 ounces with a full head of curls and all four of his little limbs intact. He was perfect… except for the fact that he wasn’t. He was far from normal. 

The medic, Medical Seargent Garcia, tasked with his delivery by a less-than-friendly Colonel, gasped upon seeing him, hesitating to even wrap him in a blanket, fearing she was seeing things. Fearing she wasn’t seeing things. 

He was striped. Truly striped. Tan streaks painting along his skin in intricate swirls and sharp edges, accompanied by odd freckles that run like constellations over his limbs and around his torso, even up onto his face, over his flat nose, and around his too-big eyes. They only brought attention to his pointed little ears hidden amongst golden curls, the same ones flexing around clumsily as murmurs filled the room. 

And he had 10 perfect fingers, but his 10 toes were odd… they looked more like the tracks found out in the mud made by the blue savages the RDA wanted gone than anything else, an odd gap between the hallux and the rest of his little toes. 

“What… what is he?” his mother, Maria De La Paz Socorro, asked. Her voice wasn’t cold, there was no malice or anger, she was just scared. Any mother would be. His baby came out different, and she just wanted to make sure he was ok. But what else could she ask? He may have human coloring, for the most part, but he certainly wasn’t human, not entirely. “My baby, what’s wrong with mu baby?” she pleaded again, arms reaching for her baby. 

Gracia, still white as a ghost, wraps him in a blanket, noting the patch of black hair at the base of his neck, handing him to Paz, who held him to her chest, . He cooed at the sight of his mother, still belting out little cries but calming slightly, pressing close to her, hands clumsily reaching for her. She placed her finger in his little hand, and he held onto it, his big eyes opening, inhumanely golden iris’s meeting her own deep brown eyes.

“Look at you,” she whispered softly, wiggling the finger in his grasp, “my special boy,” and after she admires him a while, she’ll look to the Medic, and ask if he’s healthy, and the Sergeant will hesitate before looking him over, like she’s scared to touch him. 

Paz holds her baby boy close as Garcia runs a stethoscope over his striped chest and down his back, as she manipulates his limbs, checking all of his little fingers and toes. Miles does not appreciate any of it, wriggling and crying up a storm, but Paz can only smile, hushing him gently. His ears follow her voice, his eyes try and find her. 

“He can hear you alright,” Garcia murmurs, “and he looks healthy, nothing’s jumping out at me, but I’m not peditrican, I haven’t touched a baby since my rounds at med school…” she eyes the infant once more, “and I never saw anything like this, not even in my text books. So I’m not making any promises you can hold me to. You should have the quacks look at him, I’m sure your Colonel has some favors… or blackmail… he can use to get them to keep quiet.”

“... we’ll see,” he murmured, more focused on the baby in her arms than their uncertain future. 

The medic said nothing else, not on any small talk type matters anyway, and instead continued to tend to Paz and the rest of the delivery and afterbirth procedures, talking her through it, even if she was no longer listening. 

Miles continued to squirm in her arms, face pinched, ears furrowed. He was pouting. And it was the cutest little pout Paz had ever laid her eyes on. She couldn’t help but stroke his little cheek, tracing the stripes that spread from his neck and his hairline, and then the constellations of moles and freckles, down to petting the thick black hair at the base of his neck, feeling the divide between his curls and the thick fuzz. 

She couldn’t deny that he looked Na’vi, that would be foolish. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know how. Part of her didn’t want to know, fearing she’d find she was part of a conspiracy or experiment. She’d rather live in blissful ignorance to the truth, and love her baby as he was than know why. 

“You, my son, are perfect, just the way you are,” she cooed softly, “nothing will ever change that.” 

The infant squeaked, huffing as he tried to keep his eyes open, to keep looking up at his mama, but sleep was taking him, pulling at his fluttering lids. It took a few well-placed strokes of gentle fingers down the bridge of his nose to get him to fall fast into a fitful sleep. He was still wet and a little cold, as per the exam room being dim and drafty, and he was probably hungry, if the way he was nudging his face into her chest was any indicator, but her milk had yet to come in, she didn’t even know if it ever would. Formula was yet to end up on the table, the boy’s father was meant to arrange that, but she wasn’t sure there had been any success. 

Just thinking about it, she felt her own breathing pick up, her heart racing. She couldn’t feed her son. She couldn’t fill his empty belly. Couldn’t keep him warm enough. Couldn’t get his father to be by her side. Did she go through all this just to watch her son starve on some foreign planet having never met his father? And on top it all, he would end up as an experiment if the higher-ups ever saw him or his stripes or his ears or his eyes or any part of him, because he was born wrong. 

Fear coursed through her, but she kept calm, calm enough to not disturb the baby boy in her arms. She held him a little closer, pressing her lips to his temple, “Mama will protect you, I promise,” she whispered, “Mama will always protect you, whatever it takes.” 

links to other posts in this au, just till I come up with an official tag to put these under: