#teared up writing this

[lesbian-in-leather]

I have THOUGHTS and nowhere to put them so. ignore this lmao

The thing is, see, I've never really been good at having friends. Like, I can have friends on here because idk, it's different, there's that layer of separation I guess, it's easier and you start off in a much different place to irl friendships because of the very nature of this beloved hellsite

But irl I've always been sorta terrible at, not making friends, but keeping them. People always seem to get sick of me, I become too much of myself, I get comfortable enough to let them see beyond the carefully crafted, most palatable version of myself, and they never seem to like it. So I build the walls higher and I make it harder and harder for people to know me, and for so long I've been so, so lonely

And then. The other day I was invited to this party. And it was last minute and normally I would have said no but I thought hey, what the hell, I'll sort of know at least 90% of the people there, why not. So I went. And it was quite possibly the best night of my life

And the thing is, see, I know that I'd been keeping most of these people at arms length. In recent weeks I've been letting some of them closer, but I'd still been so fucking careful. But at this party I was drinking—not something I've ever really done, and it wasn't excessive (I still remember the whole night and I still felt fully in control of myself)—but the thing is, the more I drank, the less I heard that constant voice of anxiety. And it was so nice not to hear it. And because I couldn't hear it, I was so much more myself. I was laughing and joking, I just said the things I'd normally want to say but would be too busy thinking through the implications of to ever actually get around to it

And the thing is. The thing is people liked it. Someone even made a joke that I'm so different to their first impression of me, and that the real me is so much better.

And for the last few days I've just been replaying that party in my head, over and over. These people that I've spent months wanting to befriend, that all like me the best when they saw the actual me, not the carefully palatable, I'll-be-whoever-you-want-me-to-be version. And it makes me want to cry because I'm so fucking happy

I'm seeing them again next week, and I just. I hope we get to hang out more. I hope this continues. Because that night was exactly what I've always wanted, exactly how I've always imagined having real friends would be like, and now I know what it feels like and I know that they like me and I'm just so, so happy

[discodyke-dogthing]

okay no im not leaving this in the tags that last part of “younger transfems' that are trying to get out of that tar pit of self hate should be appreciated and loved and encouraged for their efforts” because that shit is HARD and im improving a lot but still struggle a bit

yes even the ones that are fully stuck in that tar pit should be appreciated and loved too. it’s fucking rough out there

I’ve been shamed so much for being self deprecating and hating myself while i was in the deep end of it and it fucking set me back so much because i had the added shame of it on top. if you see a transfem being mean to herself show her what being loved is like and teach her how to love oneself and feel worthy of it and be fucking gentle with her because she needs it and deserves the fucking world.

being transfem is trying to take younger transfems and drag them kicking and screaming out of the tar pit until they learn to love themselves and stop being bitter over what they dont have

[inkskinned]

okay is she being actually immature or is it just a woman over 30 expressing a human experience you find to be immature.

like yeah. at certain ages... let shit go. im not defending the real immature shit. im not defending the karen you're picturing. i worked in retail i hate those people too. (once somebody got mad at me because she didn't like how our winter window decor was a snowman smoking a pipe. i wish i was joking).

but men at 57 will write books about how 17 year old girls are soooo sexy. they will invent worlds where women have to be naked for "armor reasons." they will write songs that treat women as objects. people rush to defend them. meanwhile a woman at 35 will be like "heartbreak is hard, actually" or "i feel betrayed by a friend" or "i am struggling with something emotionally." immediately people will say stuff like this woman is 35 by the way. by the way this woman is SO OLD to be experiencing this. BY THE WAY.

im 31, almost 32. the other day a poet was blasted online because at her "big age", she had written a poem about feeling unloved. top comment was "this woman is 29 by the way." this woman is too old to still be useful, by the way. she has to behave better . maybe if she was a good wife and mother she could stop existing loudly, and the story could continue on without her. this woman has served her purpose, by the way. she's so cringe, by the way. at 29 - so old! - she still hasn't figured out that her existence should be one of shame.

[soap-ify]

thinking about laying beside simon on the bed, your head resting on his shoulder while his hands held a book that you had gifted him, his eyes fixed on the text.

your fingers absentmindedly traced over the scars on his chest, letting your soft fingertips draw over the rough sunken skin of the healed gashes — a painful story written in each of them. and you wanted to read it all, read every scar and cut, kiss all of it, absorb it so you could share it with him — a connection only you’d ever have with him.

your fingers slowly found their way to his stomach, hand caressing the muscles that had softened up ever since he had come home from deployment, your eyes noticing the stretch marks starting on the sides of his tummy that you adored so much. pale lines adorning his skin, urging you to probe them too, your hand touching him so gently — an angel soothing a wounded soldier.

simon is gorgeous, too gorgeous. he never seemingly saw it the way you did. “you’re so pretty…” you lazily whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder.

you were the warmth his cold heart sought, the fire that melted him, the sun that gave his moon the light he never thought he’d see. he needed you in the way a man needed a god, in a way a plant yearned for water. and you were happy to give it all to him, everything for your sweet simon.

“you tryin’ to tickle me, love?” his gruff voice broke you out of your trance, your eyes finding his which were no longer looking at the book, an intrigued grin playing on his lips that made you giggle heartedly and give his stomach some pats.

“maybe.”

[mercutio-the-velaryon]

Something about Meljayvik's respective relationships with legacy, Jayce's trying to live up to and honour his father's, Mel living in the shadow of her family's - specifically her mother's, and Viktor trying to make one for himself but not having the time

[cherrylight]

i think the reason why selfshipping can be so difficult for others is the mere fact that they think they don't deserve it. or don't deserve their f/o to love them unconditionally, or be there for them, or offer support and guidance, or be their crutch.

selfshipping is hard for those who are always the giver and never the receiver. you feel uncomfortable about selfshipping or thinking about scenarios with your f/o. or how you have no idea what to add to your selfship, what lore to even do, because you don't think you should do something like this for yourself.

but you do deserve this. you deserve to feel loved and cared for by your f/os, you deserve to create the most silliest of scenarios, you deserve to be so canon-divergent and self indulgent with your selfships. you deserve to love yourself, you deserve to receive love and care, you deserve to receive these things even if it may feel uncomfortable to.

you deserve to do things for yourself. it may take time for you to be fully yourself while doing so, but you got this! i believe in you. i believe we can overcome this together. <3

[blueskittlesart]

Now that you're gone

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[your-senpaaaai]

a little headcanon about arcane finale i keep thinking about a lot

imagine vi coming to sevika one day to have a talk and try to make things right between them. imagine how she asks sevika to tell her about jinx growing up because she never got a chance to see it and sevika is literally the only person who was there all this time. imagine sevika being a softie and listing all the funny (and annoying) little things jinx did as a teenager. imagine her telling vi how much silco actually loved his daughter and that jinx was his biggest weakness and the most treasured thing in the world. imagine sevika cracking up as she tells vi that jinx was an absurdly spoiled kid because silco couldn’t resist giving her all she asked for. imagine vi crying while she tries hard to visualise the man she hated so much be the only person who took care of her little sister while she was gone.

IM ABSOLUTELY NOT OKAY

[foxstens]

andrew always being at kevin's side because kevin needs it and andrew driving kevin to night practice and andrew patting kevin down to check for injuries and andrew promising kevin it'll be fine and andrew looking awake, interested because of kevin and andrew conserving his energy for kevin's quiet meltdown and andrew smiling for the first time without the drugs because of kevin and andrew always picking up when kevin calls

[hyakunana]

"My friend, my partner… my Guardian."

[arch-aeology]

I did not expect so many people to enjoy 80s jayvik, but im glad yall are also allergic to happiness. Anyways here’s them with some falsettos lyrics

Aaand some bonus doodles of these freaks that I’m not gonna finish (cw for needles in the third one, though it’s nothing super graphic)

[shower-phantom-ideas]

Bruh emotional support ghost kid? Well thats what they are calling him

Suicide cases in gothem are about to fucking plummet boiz cause this one weird blue eyes, black haired boy is now heading to your location.

How does he know where to be? Having a bad day and are all alone? No the fuck your not cause don’t turn around now but theres some shiny blue eyes coming at you from that dark ally. Oh shit hes here to drop some information about you and your lost loved ones that he should know. Oh god the closure. How could you have been afraid on this sweet, creepy, boy who just helped you find your way.

Meanwhile Danny is chillin in Gothem cause the GIW hate it there (none of they equipment actually functions in Gothem so it’s either super haunted or actually not haunted at all). Then all of a sudden he gets approached by a random ghost begging for his help because their sweet baby girl is about to do something horrible. Oops now all the ghosts are following their most loved ones around just to make sure they are there to rush to Danny for help when all else fails. Now hes getting to fulfil his protection obsession double time because one hes helping protect people from themselves and two hes protecting everyone in Gothem by stopping people from becoming villains for revenge. Plus he gets to see first hand how hes making a difference because all those people he saved are sending him some good vibes from all across Gothem.

Thank god he followed Jazz around so much to slightly absorb some of her phycology knowledge over the years. Plus it was actually pretty interesting so she gave him her old text books. Shes also helping him deal with the rare events where he can’t save someone. Just a moment too late or he stops them but they later succeeded in the hospital. Neither are his fault. Now only if he could convince his core of that.

Anyway why Gothem you ask? Amity Park would have been just as good tbh but imagine Batmans face when he finally gets to be face to face with the emotional support ghost boy. Why is he here? Bruce is fine. Batman is fine. Hes not gonna do anything crazy. It’s just a hard time of year. Around their death always gives him grief. But hes an adult and can manage it.

“You know they are so proud of you.” The boy states. As if it’s clear as day, even though it’s Gothem and never a clear day. Batman blinks at him, stunned for a moment. “What?” This boy can’t possibly know that. No one will ever know that, Bruce can only hope. “They see their home, full of such life. That big house that felt so empty, so cold, to them as well for years. Then you filled it with Family and Love like they had always wanted for you. They are so proud of what you have turned it into. Somewhere full of life and warmth.” A small smile graces his face as finally “you have made your parents so proud” and its all he can do to contain himself. Emotions are running high and sue him because he really did need to hear that ok. The boy suddenly looks to Bruces right with a confused face “aren’t all basements like that though?” Before Bruce can even get a word in hes gone. Just vanished before his eyes.

[housederiva]

Does your Rook have a signature poison?

(Rook's been slowly trying to build his immunity to poisons by the way... not that that has anything to do with the tea pot she's holding here)

Rook (just Rook) de Riva specializes in assisted suicides, it's more comforting if the contract can pretend they're just drinking a cup of tea beside a newly formed friend. Wyvern's bane is a poison Viago mentions in eight little talons, when you begin to digest it you just asleep - and don't wake up. Rook's tweaked it a little bit though

[stinglesswasp]

Fanart of all that's said in the low light by headlocket

This fic will make you cry the most cathartic tears ever. Be sure to also check out the epilogue, in lieu of the bells 🥹🧡🧡

[sludgekludge]

characters in this show having emotional outbursts would be way more impactful if they weren't constantly crying and shitting and having breakdowns over every ant they see on the pavement every 12 seconds