#i cry the whole time but i do it.

[hinamie]

itafushi nation how r we Feeling!!!!!!!!!!!

[shima-draws]

I’m still so mentally ill over the whole Luffy refusing to eat unless it’s Sanji’s food thing. Like. We KNOW how fucking feral over food Luffy is. He loves food and loves eating so much that he steals it off other people’s plates and out of their hands and is so impatient when it comes to meals that he’ll literally try and sneak into the kitchen to mooch before it’s ready. Or he’ll try to break into the refrigerator. I know Sanji mentioned putting a lock on it at some point bc Luffy literally wiped it clean. He will not hesitate to eat other people’s portions or literally an entire meal meant for a whole ship of people! He’s unbelievably selfish when it comes to food and that’s just SUCH a central part of his character that it’s become almost endearing. Even in Totto Land Luffy didn’t think for a second before devouring everything in sight, including an entire fucking HOUSE, regardless of the consequences or the people it might affect. Homie did not care!! He’s food driven first and foremost!!!

Until Sanji leaves him. Until he decides that eating—something that he loves and brings him comfort—isn’t WORTH it unless it’s Sanji’s food he’s eating. It’s been shown that Luffy has zero self restraint when it comes to food so the fact that he was SURROUNDED by food on all sides on a food themed island and utterly refused to partake in any of that? Even though he hates being hungry and will always make eating a priority over pretty much anything else?? The amount of willpower it must have taken for him to sit there and purposefully let himself starve, for SANJI. Even when food was offered to him conveniently (in the form of syrup rain) he stubbornly rejected that. Because it wasn’t Sanji’s food. Because it wasn’t Sanji who made it, who always puts so much thought and care into the food he makes, who always indulges Luffy and prepares extra because he knows how much Luffy eats and how much he loves to eat. Luffy literally took one of the most defining traits he has and tossed it out the window. For Sanji. I’m going to fucking blow up

[inkskinned]

it mattered because when my brother asked me what if this is the happiest you'll ever be? the best you'll ever get? the thing i felt was fear, not peace. everybody thought you were so perfect for me. even i thought you were "helping me grow". i had to challenge every internal clock. make myself more thoughtful, more kind, more beautiful.

i told my therapist it was good because i like the changes i made and there's something so strong about saying i did that. the problem is that i can like the difference all i want, but i changed for you. something akin to getting your name tattooed, all my progress is stamped with fuck you.

it was the happiest i'd ever been and also the best i'd ever gotten. i would still get in the car and think what the fuck just happened.

[toomuchdivergentformyneuro]

me: *reads over symptoms of autism once again* “see but i don’t get upset over changes in routine, we change the routine all the time and i’m totally okay with it!”

also me since i was a kid: *gets irritated, stressed, angry, aggravated, and depressed for the rest of the day after something is switched to another day* *gets angry, stressed, and depressed, and has a breakdown when i find out we have to cancel plans, even if i didn’t really wanna go to wherever we were planning to go* *gets aggravated and is easily upset and is depressed the whole day after i get to cancel something that i had been planning for but also are relieved that i don’t have to go since i really didn’t want to* *is depressed, angry, irritated, and stressed after we cancel plans that i had zero feelings for up until that point* etc.

[abbyshands]

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fix you by coldplay makes me think about ex gf!abby anderson criminally speeding down a highway. it’s raining, it’s freezing, and she shouldn’t be doing this, but she is. you were seconds away from saving what you had with her, but too late, it was over, she didn’t want you. then she went home, approached her door, and she saw you. saw the times she picked you up in her muscular arms, kissed you like you’d fade if she didn’t as she dragged you inside. she saw you on her couch when she got into her living room, sprawled across her lap as you rambled to her. tried to sleep it off in her bed, but she didn’t see you this time, she felt you, cuddled up in her arms as she kissed you to sleep. and then she cried, she bawled, because she had lost you. she had been an idiot, because how could she have let you go? then she left the house, got into her car, and fucking sped. rain falling down all around her, battling to get to you as fast as she could. like someone, someone wiser, who would never let you go, would get to you before she could. and she couldn’t allow it, she wouldn’t. you didn’t open the door at first when you heard her knock. you were numb, exhausted, sick. you couldn’t speak to a soul, not when you were like this. not when you had lost the only person who could make you feel what you did for abby. and who could even be here at this hour? but her knocking is deafening, goddamn incessant, and you can’t ignore it. you get up from bed, walk to the door, and your heart drops. it’s her. and your eyes are red. your heart is frigid, vacant. you can’t feel a thing but the cold, rainy wind on your cheeks as soon as you open the door. and abby’s there. blonde braid soaked, face red. she’s been out here for a while, obviously. but she couldn’t leave, not when you were at stake. “abby?” you’d mumble, and she wouldn’t even answer. she cups your face in her hands, pulls you close, kisses you. and when she pulls back? “baby,” she whispers, and it’s sweet, and it’s endearing, and it’s sorrowful, but it’s home. her kiss says sorry. what she calls you only yells it. and when she pulls you into her arms, embracing you like she’ll never let you go again, because she won’t? she doesn’t need words to explain it. “i promise you i will learn from my mistakes.” because she would never make the same one again.

and just to add in this lyric: “tears stream down your face, when you lose something you cannot replace” abby anderson could never replace what was irreplaceable. you were everything to her. you were perfect. all that she wanted. all that she craved, come hell or high water, no matter what happened. and she’d be damned if she ever let you slip from her fingers again.

[nicollekidman]

there’s something SO specific about smg’s performance in mid season seven where she goes like. almost entirely neutral around spike in a way buffy doesn’t naturally, so it comes off extremely intentional and like. the way you can tell buffy finally understands how she feels is that she very specifically does not let it show but she also like. holds herself around him like she knows he can tell anyways? i am delusional but there’s Something with her faces around him that are so so so aching it’s crazy…… “i can be alone with you here” but physically because she lets herself be Still and just Look

[crybaby-bkg]

Yakuza boss Deku that’s sooo sweet and gentle with you, that you had no clue what he did in terms of work. You just assumed that maybe he was an heir to a big corporation, or hustled a lot on the side whenever you weren’t around. You couldn’t be further from the truth, but it’s all still so baffling. At how gentle he is with you, how kind he is, sweet and caring. It’s only been a few weeks since you started seeing each other, and he was nothing if not a gentleman.

Your sexual explorations with each other never went very far. He never got fully undressed, despite you laying bare in front of him. But oh, would he worship you. Get down on his knees and eat you out for hours, it was a wonder his jaw wasn’t tired. And even then, would he just keep going and going until you passed out, unable to ask him if he wanted to switch places.

But, one day, you’re determined to do something for him. Izuku was just too kind, it was unfair how he never let you treat him as well as he treated you. So when he comes over to your place one day, tired, with his head resting on the back of your couch, do you finally worship him the way he deserves.

“What’re you doing?” He asks in a gasp, catching your hands in his own big ones as you start undoing his belt. You can only look up at him with big, rounded eyes, hope he caves as easily as he always does when it comes to you.

“It’s unfair,” you pout. “You never let me touch you too. I just wanna please you, ‘Zuku.” Your voice is so soft and your mouth is so warm where you kiss at his knuckles. You’ll ask him later where that one bruise came from, but for now, you rest your head in his lap. Try not to grin when you feel his cock jump under your cheek, batting your lashes when he swallows audibly.

“Just,” Izuku swallows again, slowly releasing your hands as he undoes his own belt, pushing his black slacks down until they rest just beneath his balls. “Just this once, okay?”

And it’s all you need to hear. You kiss and lick at the side of his cock, nuzzling your cheek against it, mouthing at the forking veins up the side. Izuku can’t help his noises, his little grunts and sighs, his deep groan when you finally put the head in your mouth. He’s so gentle, holding your cheek softly in his grip, feeling it hollow in a suctioning motion as you slide a little further past his tip.

He doesn’t buck his hips or push your head down, and in a sense, you wish he would. So you move his hand to the back of your head, encouraging him to guide you, moaning around his length when he twitches in your mouth.

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” you hear him say in a gasp the moment you slide down on his cock. His tip hits the back of your throat and you gag, holding still despite Izuku trying to pull you back up for air. But you don’t budge, only let your jaw hang a little, panting, tongue dancing up the underside, relishing in the brief tug at your hair before it loosens.

You don’t answer him verbally, but instead sink down on his cock again and again, until you’re sure the back of your mouth is bruised in the shape of his tip. You never take him out of your mouth, only pull back until his head rests on your tongue, jerking the rest of it sloppily with your hand. You stare up at him all the while, feeling yourself throb at the sight of him.

Izuku has always been a composed man. Always stood tall and sure of himself, always handled himself with the confidence that made you start to fall for him. But now? Now, his hair is a disheveled mess, like he’s been running a hand through it the entire time. His emerald eyes are dull, blown out by lust, pupils dilated in pleasure. His mouth hangs open, and you can see the strain in his white button up as he tries not to shove your head down. Something terrible must glint in your eyes, because he does just that.

Shoves you down until you choke and splutter, nails digging into his thighs as he starts using your mouth for his own pleasure. He’s full of apologies the whole time as he abuses your throat, thighs tensing at the gagging sounds you emit, whining high in his throat when you gurgle around his balls.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to—fuck!” Izuku hisses through his teeth, feeling his sack tighten as he’s about to cum. He rips your mouth off of him, watching the drool and precum messy your lips and chin, connecting to his twitching cock, and it’s enough to do him in. He finishes all over your face, still holding your hair in his hands as he jerks himself off, cum splattering over your eyes and nose and that big grin you never seem to lose.

When he finishes and catches his breath, you attempt to clean him up, pull his pants down even further so that maybe he could shower with you. But as you go to yank them off of him, you get a glimpse of some ink on his thigh. Izuku stops you quickly, post haze going up in flames as he looks at you with wild eyes. He blinks a few times, wonders if you’ve seen too much, and only speaks when you don’t get that terrified look so many have had in the past.

“Let’s go to your room, so I can reward you. Yeah?” He hopes he doesn’t sound as breathless from nervousness, that you equate it to still coming down from his high. And you seem none the wiser, nodding your head as you stand on shaky legs, grabbing his hand and pulling him to your bedroom. You only hope if you confront him about the tattoos, he doesn’t do what Yakuza members know best.

[peachyutdr]

i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D

[moonliithe]

He'd like you to believe he was a born Demon King

[fairyroses]

He was about to kill you, Lex. Or divulge something you didn't want me to know.

— SMALLVILLE, "Forever" (4.21)

+ bonus from "Arctic" (7.20):

[cry-ptidd]

Alucard is a boydad but vladcard is a total girldad. I can't explain it but that's the vibes they're giving off,,,,,

Peak characterization my dear anon

Alucard is a boydad stuck with a daughter

(it doesn't change at how he'd treat her if she was a son she still suffers either way)

"LOCK THE FUCK IN"

"Shut up"

Fatherly disappointment followed by resignation (also him calling her an idiot for a minute straight)

And ofc. These gems

Peak boydad. He calls her 'sport'

Vs

Peak girldad Vlad

THAT'S A PROUD DAD RIGHT THERE!!!

He brags about her all the time. You never hear the end of it.

"Yeah, your kid went to Harvard? Cute. My daughter tho--"

He brings her everywhere, and is always there when she's struggling (somehow predicts it). A guy comes within a 20 mile radius of her and he whips out the shotgun. He cuts up apples and places it on her desk without a word and he compliments her hair and outfits and he let her paint his nails when she was little. The first person who made fun of him for having poorly painted sparkly nails got stabbed in the kidney.

Also, he already has a dad laugh.

Overall, maybe Hellsing is actually about Boydad Alucard's journey to becoming a girldad

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[lumiilys]

Dyou think that when Stede is sad or having a bad day he just stays quiet? The average person can’t tell he’s not doing good but Ed just knows. His jokes are less enthusiastic, he makes fewer silly comments, and he’s got this faraway look in his eyes. And Ed knows he’s gonna have to ask multiple times before he actually gets Stede to tell him what’s up cause Stede will always just go “yes I’m fine don’t worry just tired ☺️” at first. But eventually when whatever is bothering him comes out he’ll get to spend the rest of the day wrapped up in Ed’s arms.

[florallylly]

i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington

note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(

bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.

so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.

but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.

he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.

a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.

and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.

apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.

and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.

his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.

so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.

but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.

but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.

steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."

and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.

and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.

but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.

and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.

and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.

through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.

but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.

and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.

even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.

but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.

the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.

this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.

but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.

[eshithepetty]

Vote mob in the @autismswagsummit and support this emotionally repressed, academically challenged and terrifyingly powerful autistic 14 yo and his gaggle of overenthusiastic friends today..!!! (Or. Today as in when the voting starts again ig)

[ID: three drawings of Mob from Mob Psycho 100 interacting with one character in each concerning the autism swag summit.

The first one is a comic of him and Ritsu. In the first panel, Ritsu is clutching his phone so tight it's shaking, the screen showing the result of the Donnie vs Kris poll wherein Donnie had won. The background is a purple gradient, and he says "no..." The next panel, the background a darker purple with wavy swirls, shows Ritsu hunched over, hair falling over his shadowed eyes, teeth grit as he continues "no- this can't be...! I won't allow it, no, no-". He gets interrupted with "Ritsu, are you alright-" and the final panel brightens to a pastel peach, Ritsu looking back, distraught, at Mob, yelling "YOU'RE GONNA LOSE AT AUTISM NII-SAN". Mob, who is simply standing there, in his gym shorts and a half tucked in pink shirt, holding a glass of milk, replies "h?"

The second image is one done in red and green tones, of Dimple and Mob. Mob sits at his desk with a tired expression, one hand curled to his temple as he does his homework, Dimple hovering over him with his fists balled, as he says, "Do you want me to go beat that guy up?". Mob replies, "No, Dimple." Dimple continues, "I follow you 24/7 so I know more than anyone how much you should win this." Mob replies, "That's creepy. Just help me with my maths homework, Dimple."

The third is of Reigen and Mob. Mob has a finger raised, his aura coating his hand, as he looks back tiredly at Reigen, who has one hand on his hip and the other on Mob's shoulder, smiling cockily and sweating slightly. The background a simple light yellow, the both of them colored in pastel pinks and illuminated by a teal light that comes from Mob's power. Reigen says, "It's okay, Mob, no matter what, you're still my #1 autism." Though the annotation beneath his words, pointing to him, clarifies, "has no idea what's going on." End ID.]

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #154

CW: this one's pretty gruesome. read at your own risk 

Peter is a young child who's been kidnapped. His parents and/or his aunt and uncle were killed and he was taken. Along with a bunch of other little kids, he's been held captive and experimented on.

When the Avengers suddenly bust the kidnapping operation, the kidnappers try at the last second to destroy their research. They gas the small room where the kids are being held.

It's Iron Man who ends up blasting through. What he finds is horrifying. All but one of the children are dead.

The one who's left is just sitting among the bodies, crying, shocked, terrified. Iron Man carries him out of there, then once they're safe from the gas Tony steps out of the suit to comfort the kid while he's given oxygen.

Little 5-year-old Peter Parker imprints on his savior hard.

He just went through an unimaginable amount of trauma, then Iron Man burst through like an avenging angel. This is the first time he's ever felt protected in his memory. Tony holds the crying kid, and the kid can tolerate no one else near him.

This becomes a slight problem when they get back to base. But Tony can't find it in him to let SHIELD take the kid away, let them strip him of this one tiny bit of comfort. He keeps seeing all those other kids when he closes his eyes.

This one needs him right now. And if "right now" eventually becomes "this is my son," well. Who could've predicted that.