#(( it lit me up . ❂ ; ))

[the-raindeer-king]

Okay, So I'm the only girl on my team at work. And I'm telling y’all, regardless of age or relationship status, guys absolutely get excited when you give them stuff. Even if they act like they don't. All I can do is imagine how this would work with the 141.

Like imagine you make Gaz a bracelet. It's nothing too crazy, just a single strand of green pony beads. It didn't even take a lot to make it. Just some small, homemade thing that you give to him while you've got some down time between tasks.

He absolutely lights up, smiling wide, eyes bright. He thanks you with a side hug and a kiss to your temple. It's more than what you were expecting, but you're not gonna complain.

You don't think much of it, and move on with your business, nearly forgetting about the bracelet… until Soap interrupts you at the gym, demanding to know why Gaz got one and not him.

You didn't think he wanted one, and you certainly didn't think he'd be so distraught over something so silly. So, you promise him a bracelet, and you deliver it to him the next day. A single strand blue bracelet.

Johnny's ecstatic, grinning like a kid on Christmas. He gives you a bear hug, and a messy kiss to your cheek, practically singing your praise as he leaves.

Price is next. But thankfully you don't give him a chance to ask. You had noticed the way his gaze lingers on the bracelets that Gaz and Soap have, the small frown he's got after talking to them.

You make him a yellow one, and drop it off on his desk with some paperwork. No need for all the fanfare or even the chance he might reject it. He doesn't. He does bring you your favorite drink, his way of saying thanks. And the yellow bracelet is on his wrist the whole time.

Ghost is last, only because you didn't think he'd want one. But ever since Price got his, Ghost has been waiting with baited breath for one. He's not going to outright ask, will even scoff if Soap or Gaz brag about it. But he wants one!

It's late, when he drops by your barrack, quiet when you open the door. It takes him a moment to gather the courage. But eventually, he holds his hand out, asking where his bracelet is.

When you admit you hadn't made him one, he's a little hurt. You're teammates. Why wouldn't he want one? But you invite him into your barrack, letting him sit with you as you make the bracelet. It's just black, his color of course, but he leaves, smiling under the mask.

Oh, and when you show up for the next briefing with your own bracelet, a repeating pattern of green, blue, yellow and black, no one comments on it. But it's hard to ignore the way they all smile at you, a soft look in their eyes.

[inkskinned]

you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!

you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.

but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.

so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.

part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.

any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.

(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)

good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.

so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)

you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.

okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.

oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.

[donutfloats]

They were both fired the next day

[shannonmanorart]

Pomefiore: Rook Hunt

[artemisyates]

✨ Mina Harker ✨

I love the Harkers so much! I really need to try to settle on a design for Jonathan too.

And just draw these two dorks more in general.

They're delightful ♥

[valtsv]

my old roommate who i share a blunt with in the garden sometimes loves to test how much of a sicko i am it's his favorite thing. any time we're hanging out he's like oh Hey i found this really nasty thing online that i bet you'll be into. and then he watches my reaction like i'm a gross bug he's poking with a stick. people will say they want to study you but this guy is actually out there living the dream.

[literallyjusttoa]

"A Jester can mock, and the King cannot fight

For the gift of free thought is the jester's one right."

A sweet golden prince who lived up in the sky,

Listened to his families' terrible fights,

The ceiling would rumble, the tile would shake,

The throne room was fragile, and soon it would break.

He'd attempt to speak, but it never went right,

His father would rage, and he'd lose every fight,

As decades passed by, it soon became clear,

The King saw his son as a monster to fear.

The Prince quickly followed every command,

Only to be trapped by his father's cruel hand,

Years of destruction with no end in sight,

This war would not end with a large act of might.

And so the Prince stopped fighting fire with fire,

And instead he pulled out his golden stringed lyre,

Since he had no respect, he would leave the King's cage,

And swap out the throne room for a shining stage.

He taunted with wit and he giggled with guile,

And even his sorrow he shared with a smile,

His father's gaze lessened, his temper was tame,

As his once "Golden Prince" treated life like a game.

The centuries passed and the mirth never ceased,

The sun never set on the first son of Greece,

He danced for his siblings and bit down his pain,

Since each peal of laughter meant there'd be less rain.

There's only one role for which there are no rules,

So who is the jester, and who is the fool?

[kusanagihaku]

“Onwards, Jiro! To tricks and treats!”

[seagreenstardust]

“When toxic behavior is portrayed as romantic, it’s problematic. When problematic behavior is portrayed as a character flaw for a character to work through, it’s good storytelling.”

Katsuki Bakugou, my friends.

His behavior was problematic but never once portrayed as romantic at the same time. Katsuki said and did awful abusive things, and he also chose to be better when he was given the chance. If you’re still hung up on chapter 1 Katsuki now then I don’t think you’ve been reading the same story I have.

I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m not shipping Izuku with an irredeemable abuser. I’m shipping him with his most important person. His narrative foil. His childhood friend who made awful mistakes and then made it right when he saw he was wrong. The person Izuku looks up to and strives to emulate, despite their past struggles.

Bakudeku is so good because of how flawed these boys are, and how hard they’ve worked to get over it, and how much they matter to each other after it all

[fluffypotatey]

just a quick thing bc it bothers me and i wanna get this off my chest

*pulls down presentation screen*

yes, both Miguel O’Hara and the Spot are antagonists to Miles

how-ever,

Miguel is an antagonist and a hero while the Spot is an antagonist and villain

that is all, thank you

[lovely-abeille]

HELLO i was wondering if you could help me with a webweave about home, and how it is safety, loneliness, hostility and alien all at the same time?

bonedog, eva h.d. // persepolis: the story of a childhood, marjane satrapi // changing, liv ullman // the stream of life, clarice lispector // body, adonis; tr. khaled mattawa

[watchmewhirl]

Parents.

Masterpost

[zukotheartist]

The day before yesterday I was looking at statistics about reading habits in different countries (average book count per year, age, most read genre, etc) and then yesterday i came across a poll here asking how many books youve read so far this year and now im wondering:

The highest I saw (not just in that poll's tags but on other socials as well) was 365! With the person in question being a lil under 300 rn.

The lowest (and no shame here! I myself have picked up reading again after a long time and it's quite the challenge) was 1! But I also saw lots of people aim for 5.

The average seems to be anywhere around 30 to 60!

And the second most common bracket (interesting that it's also the one made up of mostly late teens and early 20yos) is 10-30!

Idk if anyone will read this but if u do, id love to know more about your thought process in the tags!

(Just pls be kind to each other and no fucked up elitism lol)

[maximura]

Mingi at Coachella 2024 Part II, April 12th

[sophfandoms53]

They are everything to me, you don’t understand

[qpjianghu]

Tell him... I love him more than anything he could ever do wrong. ~Andor

Fang Duobing & Li Lianhua | Mysterious Lotus Casebook (2023)