#me: i'm not gonna rant yet

[enixamyram]

I have tried really hard to ignore anti nonsense. I just wanna focus on the good and positive side of this fandom and just enjoy the series in general. But it's also hard bottling up thoughts when I'm used to ranting for the sake of getting my thoughts and feelings out and moving then on.

So I'm gonna put a couple reactions to Anti-Related Hazbin things under the read more just to get them out! Because my god, some of these are bullshit!

Chaggie - I've seen so much bullshit citicizm for this ship. People claiming they're boring or bland or badly written and I have yet to see a legit reason why other than that they don't have any typical relationship drama (which, for the record, I personally am so relieved about) or because they're not being overly affectionate every five minutes of screen time. And you know, this especially drives me crazy because they have some of the sweetest little gestures, whether it be holding hands, hugging, swinging each other round or even just the constant damn heart eyes they have when looking at each other in the background! They're so damn precious and if you can't see that, you don't know what a legit established relationship is supposed to be past the honeymoon phase.

Charlie - People once again have claimed she's badly written. I don't know why people seem to hate happy kind hearted females so much but I have seen this exact complaint about many characters who are similar to her. None of which are actually badly written. They're just not the new stereotype "bad asses" that seems to be the only acceptable way to write a female character lately. Which is ironic since a lot of the so called "bad ass" female characters I have seen are often so one dimensional. Yet we have Charlie, a kind hearted but also sometimes naive girl who is doing her best while also learning with the rest of her friends and ya'll are gonna try and claim she's not amazing? The more I rewatch the show, the more I wanna reschedule my favorite character list because there's not a second I don't adore having her on my screen.

Niffty - This one really makes me want to slam my head against the wall. I have seen so many people complain and claim she acts like a child. Bare in mind, I've just watched episode 3 - you know, the one where Niffty is fully ready to throw herself into the BDSM that Angel takes them to. The only thing close to evidence that I have seen for her acting like a child is the episode where she gets drunk except she's still not acting like a child there, she's acting like a drunk! When some people are drunk they're silly and dumb and very "child-like". Otherwise, the only reason I think people call her a child is because she's is literally small like one. Yet, if you actually look at anything past her basic physical appearance, she's a crazy murder machine and I don't know many children I can also give that title to.

Angel - This is so old and everyone else has said this all so much better than me but I just really want to repeat: Just because it's not YOUR representation doesn't mean it's BAD representation. Just because you dealt with your sexual assault in a certain way does not mean everyone deals with it that way and it sure as hell doesn't give you a right to dismiss others. I have seen so many people say they identify with Angel's character and his hypersexuality, so it is so annoyingly arrogant to see people trying to shut them down entirely because Angel's character isn't portraying their personal reactions. It's just so amazingly self-centered to be saying that if you can't personally relate to it exactly, then it shouldn't exist at all. Seriously, grow the fuck up.

Loser Baby/Poison - Again, this has been said so many times before by other people but I'm gonna add/repeat. Some people take these songs and videos so damn literally. I saw someone claim Angel was happy during his dance with Valentino in Poison which apparently made the whole character a contradiction? Completely ignoring the parts where he's clearly miserable or the part where he's clearly putting on a fake smile or even the part where he all out says he dissociates to get through. And then you have Loser Baby where people are outraged that Husk call Angel a loser and is apparently trying to compare their situations? I mean, he's obviously not saying they're situations are the same if you think about it for more than two seconds. Like, are you seriously this literal? If I said the message went over your head, would ya'll look up?

[invinciblerodent]

yknow, no, i'm not done thinking/posting/being deeply angry about the whole "bbuuuhhh Astarion is gay and was made playersexual as a game mechanic bbbuuuhhhhhhh" garbage some people still spout.

like this type of sentiment is always annoying and wrong, but it's specifically this character for whom it's especially annoying to me, just because on top of all the regular host of issues, it also deeply contradicts what I believe is the central theme of his whole goddamn story.

(excuse the rant please.)

Like, my skin already crawls at that term, "playersexual". I hate it, and find its use either vaguely ignorant at best, or blatantly pan/biphobic at worst. but even just besides that....

This character is a man whose narrative intentionally shows his presentation of himself, and of his masculinity, as being contradictory with convention. This character is one whose entire arc is about discovering who he is beyond the boxes he was assigned: a spawn, a monster, a seducer, a tool, a predator, a plaything, a victim, a sexual object... these are all identities that were forced onto him. And if he's given space to discover them, turns out, none of them are things that he actually wants to be. if you give him space, and affection (romantic or otherwise), and acceptance, and help him attain closure and catharsis, he expresses desire to be... an adventurer, a lover, a friend, a protector, so many things, but all of them in his own way. That's the point of his story, control vs. autonomy.

How.... myopic does one have to be to see that story, to play that story, to play an active, participatory role in that subversion, that search for the self beneath the masks, and declare that actually, they made him this other box for him to fit into, so... it's fine, i guess, to ignore what he says?????? it's fine if they pick and choose among his expressed traits which ones to use and which to disregard, because they decided (based on frankly homophobic and rather misogynistic stereotypes) that he cannot be different from their perception, despite him literally saying otherwise????????

Astarion's entire figure is a succession of trope-subversions. I could write essays about all the ways in which, in the romanced spawn game, the narrative sets up tropes (primarily in act 1), only to then purposefully knock them down and contradict them as the game progresses.

Like..... He was to take revenge by taking power for himself (like he thought he wanted, like Cazador did to Vellioth): ended up taking his revenge and rejecting the power that could have come with it, and despite that having a price, being content and grateful for it (and realizing that the alternative would have had an even greater price he would have paid unknowingly). He starts out using sex and sexuality as a weapon, and a tool of manipulation, like he did for many decades: ends up expressing discomfort with being seen as a sex object, resuming his sex life by saying "I love you" before his partner would have, and proposing sex with them as a beautiful metaphor for his own rebirth.

His whole story starts out with him thinking he requires protection from the player and that the only way to get that is through using his body and looks as a bargaining chip: later he discovers in himself a desire to be the protector himself, which he talks about more than once, and expresses varying degrees of discomfort at the thoughts of both using his body to gain something, and needing a protector.

There's the "this is what I'm good for" type of attitude towards sex morphing into "I am so much more than a thing to be used". There's the whole thing about how important his looks were to both him and his "usefulness" back then, despite him not being able to even fucking see them, (which also kind of includes that silly lovely gremlin-face he sometimes makes), but those are just the ones off the top of my head.

The story, and the romance plot, is about... it's about him regaining ownership of himself, it's about autonomy, his whole recurring "what do you want" line is about respecting his choices and letting him find his way to them, it's about letting him show you who he is, believing him, and loving the man behind the facade.

how absolutely fucking short-sighted does one have to be to then take that incredibly reductive stereotype of "femme-leaning man with theatrical mannerisms who cares about his looks; must be exclusively homosexual and any attraction he shows to women is just a mechanic/fanservice/flattery" (which, that's so fucking insulting to gay men, and bi/pan men, an any man who might express masculinity in a less than conventional way, and to the women who may love them [eta: and of course nonbinary people, and the people to whom masculinity means something wholly different]), and assign it to this character on their own accord, despite him literally telling the player otherwise? despite him verbally expressing attraction to multiple women, and contradicting that stereotypical interpretation wholly and out of pocket??????

like, hello??????? did we play the same game????????? did we play the same fucking game??????????

like don't think for one second that it isn't the pan/biphobia that annoys me more, it absolutely is, but this character is such a particularly egregious example, it's almost fucking poetic.

[scoliosisgoblin]

Which version of Rick is your fav?

it's so hard for me to choose tbh. HOWEVER, I'd say Evil Rick

then I'd say it's C-137 and Memory Rick

I love how pathetic™ Evil Rick really is tbh. love that he's being controlled by his Morty. can you guess who my favorite Morty is?

[convolutedblasphemy]

Most of the people who unironically dub themselves a "fandom elder" go right on my blocklist because it's almost always followed by a complete and utter refusal to critically examine one's own habits and biases sold as wisdom and sprinkled with badly disguised ageism.

[dramarants]

i only want love triangles if it's whatever fucked up polygon junmo kicheol and euijeong have going on

[anti-ao3]

pretty sure i'm gonna be accused of guilt-tripping ppl but honestly. at this point i 100% judge everyone who would rather donate money to stupid fandom shit instead of real causes that need help more than ever

[da-proti-toku-grem]

why can't anyone understand that everyone is different and not everyone likes the same things and that it's completely okay AND normal for someone not to like going out and preferring to stay at home :/

[lovinpelova]

that girl on kerstins ig story is actually me!! i'm the mystery forehead kiss receiver🫶🏼

[haledamage]

A cure I know that soothes the soul

started as a prompt fill for @queen-scribbles for the prompt “a kiss on the corner of the mouth, hoping for more but expecting nothing”, but it went completely off of the rails and onto the dining table so I decided to post it separately even though it technically fits the prompt. the new prompt fill is proving to be just as lengthy but not quite as smutty. also tagging @agentnatesewell since you asked me to 💖

Kira/Nate, almost 3400 words, sometime vaguely near the end or just after book 3, at the very least after they’ve both confessed how they feel. nsfw, due to explicit sexual situations and also due to improper use of antique furniture

---

Kira awoke with a gasp, fear and adrenaline continuing to race through her even as the remnants of her dream fell away and she started to recognise her surroundings.

She was in her bedroom at the Warehouse. 

Safe. 

Alone. 

It was still well before sunrise, no light creeping in around the edges of her thick, dark curtains.

The details of the dream were already fading by the time she sat up in bed, but the fear lingered, raking sharp claws down her spine. With it came the prickly feeling of being watched, no matter how many times she glanced at the room’s shadowed corners to assure herself no one was there.

The unease still didn’t fade as she untangled the blankets from around her legs. Or when she found her phone, knocked from the nightstand to the floor at some point in the night (it cheerfully announced the time to be 3:35AM). Or after slipping into the en suite to splash some water on her face at the sink. 

Out of ideas, Kira crept out into the hall, moving as quietly as possible in the direction of the kitchen and, hopefully, a cup of tea to help calm her nerves.

She slowed her approach when she saw the light already on, hesitating in the hall. 

Maybe the library would be a better choice. She was still too on edge to be good company right now, and she didn’t want to unload her baggage onto whichever unsuspecting vampire had beaten her here.

As if summoned by her decision to sneak away, Nate’s face appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Kira?” He gave her a surprised but welcoming smile. “Is everything all right?”

Some of her anxiety faded at the sound of his voice, enough for her to manage a small smile in return. “I’m fine,” she said reflexively. She took a deep breath and tried again, the truth this time. “I had a bad dream, that’s all. Just trying to clear my head.”

His brow furrowed with a worried frown, and he took a step toward her before stopping, uncertainty overtaking his concern as he pulled back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, but closed some of the distance between them, a silent offer to meet him halfway. “I don’t actually remember it. I just remember… something watching me. Or chasing me?” She shook her head again, crossing her arms to stifle a shudder. “I can’t seem to shake it off.”

Nate moved closer, though he still stopped a little outside arm’s reach and held out a hand. Making it clear that he was leaving the decision up to her; proving that he’d been listening. 

“Come here, ya rouhi,” he whispered, a request, almost a plea.

Kira didn’t need to be asked twice. She crossed what space still remained immediately, bypassing the extended hand to instead wrap her arms around him. With a chuckle tinged with relief, Nate returned the hug, and she melted into the warmth of his embrace.

“What can I do?” he asked, kissing the top of her head, her temple, her cheek. “What do you need?”

“Just you, love.”

They stood there like that for a long time, the hallway quiet and dark except for the light peeking through the kitchen doorway. Slowly, Kira’s heart rate returned to normal, the prickly uneasy feeling fading enough that she could ignore it.

Eventually, Nate pulled away, just enough to see her face. He brushed her hair out of her eyes before settling his hand against her cheek. “Feel better?”

“Much better.” She let her eyes drift closed as she leaned into his touch. “Thank you.”

“Trust me, it’s my pleasure.” He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You should get some more sleep.”

It wasn’t a question, but it felt like one. He was leaving the choice in her hands whether she went back to bed or stayed there with him.

It was the easiest choice she’d had to make in months. “Can I stay here for a while? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

There was a brief, weighty pause. And then Nate’s body language changed, his touch shifting from comforting to purposeful, his hand sliding from her cheek down to her neck. His thumb slowly caressed the edge of her jaw, gentle, unhurried, maddening.

His voice changed too, dropping lower into something sultry and sinful. “Perhaps we just need to get your mind off of it.”

“Oh?” Kira tried to feign innocence, but the flush spreading over her face gave her away. “And how do you intend to do that?”

His lips brushed her cheek, just at the corner of her mouth, pulling back as she turned her head to try and kiss him properly. “I could make you some tea.”

“Tea. Of course. That sounds…” she licked her lips, fighting not to smile as his eyes darkened in response, “soothing.”

He repeated the motion on her other cheek, lips barely brushing her skin. “Or we could find you a book to read.” 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and leaned up on tip-toe to close some of the height difference. “Sure. Reading can certainly be a… stimulating distraction.”

His arm tightened around her waist, helping her balance while also pressing their bodies flush together. “Or…”

Kira didn’t know if Nate intended to finish that sentence, but she didn’t wait to find out. “Nate,” she whispered against his lips. “Give me something else to think about.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before he was kissing her, slow and intense and already with an edge of urgency. Like he was starving for it, for her, like with each press and drag of his lips he was trying to make up for every minute he’d spent not kissing her--including the three hundred years before they’d met.

She opened for him eagerly, meeting his hunger with her own, swallowing his groan as the kiss deepened. They stumbled in the vague direction of the kitchen, both of them unwilling to untangle enough to watch where they’re going. They missed the doorway, but Nate’s back hit the wall next to it and that was good enough.

Kira dragged her mouth away from his to trail kisses down his neck instead. Her fingers were clumsy on the buttons of his shirt, too much need and not enough grace. “Maybe we should take this somewhere more private. In case the others wake up.”

In an unexpected display of impatience, he took over the task of unbuttoning his shirt, getting it undone and open in a flash of superhuman dexterity. He breathed out a gratified moan when her hands grazed his bare skin. 

Task completed, one of his hands tangled in her hair, guiding her lips back to his, though he continued to try to speak between kisses. “They are all out on patrol. They won’t be back for hours.”

“Okay--” Kira started to reply, but her words were lost in a yelp as she was suddenly lifted from the ground. Her legs wrapped automatically around his waist without waiting for any input from her brain--which was good, because it appeared to have short-circuited entirely.

Nate looked up at her with a pleased grin that would’ve looked cocky on anyone else. “But perhaps it would be best to have a door between us and them. Just in case.”

She just nodded, not trusting her voice, clinging to his shoulders a little harder than necessary.

His grin sharpened to a sultry smirk. “Is something wrong, Kira?”

“Nope,” she answered, too quickly, blush darkening her face from the reminder that he could read her reaction so easily. “I knew you were strong, I just hadn’t considered what… other applications that could have.”

That wasn’t true, and they both knew it.

“And now?”

“Now, I’m considering. Intently.” Her hands found their way inside his open shirt again, exploring every inch of skin they could reach.

They didn’t do much better watching where they were going this time either, too wrapped up in each other, but somehow managed not to trip over anything. Nate carried her effortlessly, holding her with only one arm as he closed the kitchen door behind them with the other. It was still far from “private,” but Kira was having trouble caring about much beyond the lips on her skin and the arms around her and the hard length she could feel pressed between her thighs.

Eventually, they made it to Nate’s intended destination, and Kira let out a breathless laugh as he set her down carefully on the dining table. “You’ve been thinking about this since that comment I made at Tina’s, haven’t you?”

“Oh, my sweet Kira…” the way he said her name made her shiver; so did the look in his eyes, “I’ve been thinking about this since I bought the table.”

Her eyes slammed shut as that knowledge hit its target, along with all the implications that came with it. “Fuck.”

For once, Nate didn’t wince at her swearing. He just chuckled, low and smooth and clearly very pleased with himself.

Since his arms were now unoccupied, his hands instead found their way under her shirt, skimming purposefully up her sides and over her ribs, rucking the fabric up as he went. “Perhaps I should tell you the thoughts I’ve had about the sofas in the library as well.”

Tempting as it was, she shook that thought off--though she had no doubt she would remember this next time she had research to do. “I’d like that. Later.” She pressed her palm to the front of his jeans, dragging her hand over the hard swell of his cock. “Right now, I’d rather you just fuck me.”

Nate’s head fell back, eyes fluttering closed, jaw clenching around the low rumble of a growl that Kira could feel more than hear. He stayed that way, seemingly lost in sensation for the moment, barely moving beyond the restless stuttering of his hips as she mapped the shape of him through the thick denim.

“You are so bloody beautiful like this,” she murmured, releasing him just long enough to undo his belt and pull down his zipper so she could free him from his jeans. “I would almost think I’m still dreaming, but my dreams are never this lovely.”

He shushed her, pressing his thumb to her lips, the rest of his hand curling almost possessively around the curve of her jaw. “No more talk about dreams. We’re here to--” a sharp gasp escaped him as she took him in hand, “--to get your mind off of that.”

A smirk grew across her lips, widening as Nate traced the curve of it. “Oh, is that the only reason we’re doing this? How generous of you.”

“I would do anything for you,” he vowed without hesitation, followed by a groan as her tongue darted out to lick the tip of his thumb. He watched the motion with rapt attention. “But I won’t pretend my intentions were entirely altruistic.”

She turned her head to kiss his palm, then the inside of his wrist. “Good. You could stand to be a little selfish.”

There was something wild in his eyes when they met hers again. Untethered. But also fragile, like he could shatter if she touched him the right way.

Kira decided to risk it anyway. Without breaking eye contact, she leaned down and licked a broad stripe along the underside of his cock.

He swore under his breath, the language not one she recognized but the sentiment behind it clear enough. It was such a lovely reaction that she did it again, slower, savoring the taste of him as well as the sounds he made.

The angle made it difficult to do much more than tease him, but Nate clearly didn’t mind, praise falling from his lips in a mix of languages as if it was a struggle to hold on to any of them for long. She could identify some of them, and heard her name interspersed throughout, muttered like a prayer between endearments, ya rouhi, cariad, zhizn moya, mon cœur, beloved.

It wasn’t long before he’s tugging at her with shaking hands, the words “Kira” and “wait” exhaled on a shuddering sigh. She stopped immediately, leaning back to give him room to catch his breath--but instead of doing so he just followed her, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss, pressing her down until she was laying on the table again.

“You are exquisite.” He kissed the corner of her mouth, followed by another at the edge of her jaw. “You make me feel…” He trailed off, as if none of the words he had were sufficient. She knew the feeling.

His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, a shaky sigh escaping him as she arched her neck to give him better access, baring her throat to him.

“One of these days,” he said in a voice like rolling thunder - deep, exhilarating, a promise of things to come, “I’m going to get you somewhere I can take my time with you.”

Before she could respond, he was moving down, nipping at her collarbone and the crook of her neck. His hands were as restless as his lips, grabbing and caressing and kneading but never staying in one place for long, as if he was trying to touch her everywhere at once.

“Somewhere I can spend hours exploring you.” His fangs just barely scraped against her skin, a slight sting before he soothed it with a sweep of his tongue. It sent electricity sparking through her, setting her alight. “I want to learn every way you like to be touched. Every sound you make.” 

Long, elegant fingers traced up the inside of her thigh and past the hem of her sleep shorts - Kira had never been so grateful to the summer heat for convincing her not to wear long pants - pushing them aside along with her underwear to delve into her slick folds.

She whined, high and helpless and shaped vaguely like his name, and Nate echoed it with a broken groan. His lips found their way back to hers, kissing her with the same torturously slow rhythm of his fingers, licking into her mouth as he pressed into her.

“I wish I had the patience for it tonight,” he breathed between kisses, “but you are irresistible.” He pulled his hand away, swallowing her whimper of protest. “I will do my best to make it up to you next time.”

It was a struggle for Kira to find her voice. Desire simmered under her skin like a living thing, burning away all semblance of thought or language until all she had left was “Nate, please.”

Those were the only words she needed. As soon as they were out of her mouth, Nate was lining himself up and pushing into her, slow and relentless, until their hips were flush against each other.

She groaned at the delicious stretch as he filled her, a shiver coursing through her. The motion made his hips jerk forward, hands clutching hard at her thighs, which in turn made her clench around him. An echo chamber of sensation, bouncing endlessly between them.

“Kira,” Nate pleaded, completely undone and devastatingly beautiful, “I can’t--” He growled between clenched teeth, all his eloquence lost under desire.

Kira knew what he was trying to say. She pulled him down to kiss him, all open mouths and tangling tongues. “Don’t hold back,” and then, again, “Nate, please.”

There was nothing tender or gentle about the way they moved together, both of them too far gone, desperate and driven. 

Nate only barely stayed within the bounds of human ability, thrusts just a touch faster than a mortal man could manage, grip a little too strong, leaving bruises on her hips and thighs that he’d feel guilty about in the morning. Kira didn’t mind them; she just wished her own marks didn’t fade so quickly, that she could leave some visible proof that she wasn’t still dreaming.

The pleasure built quickly, coiling in her belly, growing tighter and tighter with every movement, every thrust and kiss and broken sound. She could already see the end in sight, and she tried to hold herself back, to slow down just a little and savor it, but then he shifted, changing angles and sliding into her just so--

She careened over the edge with barely any warning, and he followed close behind her. They held each other together as they shattered and shook apart.

It could have been minutes or hours later when Kira became aware of her surroundings again. The kitchen was quiet except for their slowing breathing, the sky still dark through the window over the sink. Nate loomed warm and heavy above her, his forehead resting on her chest over the still-racing beat of her heart.

She combed her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face enough to plant a weak kiss on his temple. That took the last energy she had, and her head fell back on the table with a dull thunk. “You know, I have to say, Victorian carpenters really knew their shit.” She gave the table a fond pat. “Very sturdy construction.”

Nate’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I’m sure they’d be happy to know their work is still appreciated.” He lifted his head enough to meet her eyes, expression blissful and adoring. “Though perhaps not quite in the manner it was intended.”

“We’re getting pretty good at using furniture in ways it wasn’t intended.”

He hummed in agreement and appreciation. “More than ‘pretty good,’ I think.” With a groan, he pushed himself off of her and sluggishly got to his feet, offering a hand to help her clamber somewhat-gracefully off the table. “But perhaps we should give it a break and take this elsewhere.”

It wasn’t a question, but it felt like one, and Kira let herself consider it while they put their clothes back to rights and checked to make sure they hadn’t left the kitchen a mess. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the answer; it was that she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to ask it yet.

As if he could sense her hesitation, Nate stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned gratefully into his embrace, sighing contentedly when he kissed her cheek. “I should probably get some more sleep.”

“I agree,” he said neutrally, not giving her any insight into his own thoughts.

She closed her eyes and forced the words out in a whisper he probably wouldn’t have heard if he were human, admitting for the second time that night, “I don’t want to be alone.”

It was harder to say than it had been the first time. ‘Alone’ was what she’d always done best; she wasn’t quite sure who she was without it. Part of her thought it would be safer to just face the nightmares again.

He spun her around so he could kiss her, in equal parts comfort and relief. And then kissed her again, just because he could. “Would you…” he swallowed hard, and it made her feel better to know he was nervous too, “would it be all right if I stayed with you awhile? At least until you fall asleep.”

Kira liked that he made it sound like his idea, asking if he could rather than if she wanted him to. It took some of the pressure off, made her feel a little less vulnerable when she confessed, “I’d like that.” She could feel his smile when he kissed her again. “My room or yours?”

“Mine.” There was a hint of a purr in Nate’s voice, despite what they’d just finished doing. “I’ve wanted to get you in my bed for some time now.”

She laughed, feeling a knot of tension that had been lingering finally begin to unravel. “Then take me to bed, love.”

No sooner than the words were out, he lifted her off the ground once again, chuckling as she yelped in surprise. He carried her down the hall at close-to-human speed.

The bedroom door closed behind them just before the rest of the team returned home.

[torgawl]

gojo's death has been way too controversial for something that has been premeditated for such a long time

[sociallyawkwardseal]

Okay, so not fanfic/writing stuff but do you ever think of how close Calla and Kody used to be? How sweet and bright and encouraging she was towards him when they were younger? How friendly and warm she was? How they smiled at each other? It makes me want to eat rocks.

[omarfor-orchestra]

.

[kenobihater]

the last remaining threads of my sanity are slipping through my fingers rn 🚬 😑

[aberooski]

Every day I tell myself "all I have to do is make it through today" and I'm realizing that I don't know how I feel about the fact that I feel like I have to tell myself that every single day.

[tiralja]

After two nights in a row with less than nine hours of sleep combined I am finally in bed at a reasonable hour and I have not felt more wired in my life 8')

[kafkaesqueer]

This is what it feels like to be a closeted queer in a homophobic household hearing your family talking shit about lgbt while you're slowly dying inside (but you gotta smile through the pain because you can't blow your cover)