#raw vulnerability

[sunnyanddumb98]

ODE TO SOFIA

Sofia sits to my left in the office. It is big, but we crumple. That makes us close, at least in distance.

Sofia likes horror and dresses in full black. Her favorite color is pink, she hates yellow because it’s too bright, too happy, leaves no space for much else.

I really admire her. She is an enthusiast for cooking and reading, collecting figurines, and making perfect gifts: baskets with your favorite character plushie, sewn by hand. She sends you a birthday cake to your new apartment in Japan. She is considerate and remembers everything I say.

Sofia is violent. She tells the truth. Diplomacy exhausts her; she wants more. She is angry at people she has never met. She is happy when someone expresses their rage.

When I think about her, the sound of my sister’s giggles comes to mind, in the backseat of my parents’ car, listening to Mr. Jones by Sui Generis for the first time.

She likes gore and blood, but she rejects the passive violence of societal expectations. Day to day, she fears the real horrors of self-destructive, evasive methods. She is soft and sweet.

She is critical thinking skills, getting kicked out of class for laughing way too hard. The pride of growing up when no one is watching. Learning something basic as a full-grown adult, in a quiet street on a Wednesday morning. all alone.

It is the strength you need to protect your identity. It is showing your new sneakers to everyone. Forehead kisses to say goodbye to your friends. Going shopping in pajamas for fresh morning bread. It is the wonderful thing we find in the dark, hidden away from the horrors of the light and polite.

Catching a complicit smile at a funeral. The catharsis after breaking your favorite vase. Spending your last penny on a mistake. The friendship I form with my paralysis demon. A scared kid ready to attack. A tale, a hug, a cookie, and we both say good nigth.

The moment you are forgiven after screaming. Being loved after being wrong, mistaken. The comprehension only a child has: to cry over the doomed one— the serial killer and the rapist, the goner — not for their imminent death, but for prohibiting themselves a slow day, a warm afternoon in bed, tea, toast, and a good book to read.

[tempered-grace]

look to windward as an inversion of Atlantic

you don’t wake up surrounded, blinking lights and hospital beds and loved ones with worry in their eyes. You wash up on the shore. Alone. And you have to claw your way back to life. and you do. you stand up and you lift your sword. you have paid your penance and you are ready to fight for what you are owed.

[audikatia]

Étoile | Cheyenne text posts (4/?)

[notbxnny]

it’s nice but also so NOT nice that you can see how they’ve spent so much time around each other, working with and around each other daily without speaking, that when they exchange looks and gestures it's so much more familiar than how they speak to each other

[seraphimankh]

Fiyeraba April - Flinch

[kevjeanyves]

i have completely convinced myself that in tsc2, after kevin and jean do that interview to salvage jean’s reputation, kevin is going to get drunk. that’s his only coping mechanism and that interview is going to be very difficult for him—being so close to jean will be difficult, talking about the ravens will be difficult, talking about riko’s death will be nearly impossible

jean knows nothing about kevin’s alcoholism. when they were close, kevin had never drank in his life (“ravens don’t drink”). if kevin gets drunk in front of him, he’s going to handle it very badly. it will be so startling for him, because kevin has changed. in both good and bad ways, kevin has changed from when jean used to know him. and jean doesn’t know the drunken version of kevin and he’d also be upset from the interview. and they’d probably get into an argument

idk…i think it would be interesting…kind of neat…yk

[hungharrington]

i’m almost 22 and have never even kissed a boy (which i’m chronically insecure about). it’s made me feel very nervous regarding intimacy or “doing it wrong”. i feel like steve would be great coach and reassure the reader it’s okay and that they’re doing great. nothing to embarrassed about. (my soul needs this so bad)

hi honey !! i think you r so right & steve would be the perfect guy to give all the assurances <3 i hope u know that kisses don’t matter too much til they’re with someone you’re rlly sweet on so i wouldn’t sweat it angel x this one is sfw! wowzer!

You’re on your couch and in Steve’s lap and worried about just about everything. 

Steve’s being sweet about it, his hands resting gently on either side of your waist, his thumbs swiping up and down to comfort you. He’s watching you closely, unaware he’s just taken your first, second, and third ever kisses. How could he know? you think, on the side of insecurity— it seems everybody else your age has already kissed someone. 

“You okay?” He asks, hazel eyes tracing over the soft features of your face. He loves your nose and the shape of your bottom lip— strange things to like perhaps, but Steve doesn’t care. 

You nod but don’t say anything. The motion is a bit jerky. Your hands are planted on his shoulders, holding them probably a bit too tight. Exhaling a breath, you nod again and pretend the fondness in his gaze isn’t making you shy.

“Yeah,” you finally speak, voice smaller than you intend. “Just- just wanna like—“ you swallow, eyes darting to the ceiling for a moment, if only to avoid his intense eyes. “I wanna get this right.” 

A car engine drones by outside in the dusky evening. Steve gives a little chuckle and his hands on your waist tug forward, pulling your attention down and your body an inch closer to his. It’s warm— every part of him is glowing warm. 

“I don’t think there’s any way you can get this wrong,” He admits, awfully sincere about it. 

It’s the truth. Steve likes you a lot. You could probably bite his lip too hard and make it bleed and he’d still find it pleasant. You have that effect on him. 

You don’t know that though. So, every stress seems very, very real. Are you kissing firm enough? Too firm? God, are your lips too dry? 

Your tongue flicks out to wet them, your hands giving his shoulders a nervous, minuscule squeeze. In your chest, your heart is torn between rabbiting in its anxiety or shrivelling in insecurity. 

“I mean,” you laugh a little, if only to cover your embarrassment. You duck your head to avoid his face, murmuring, “If there is, I’m sure I’ll find it. I haven’t, uh, exactly done this… too much.”

“That’s fine,” Steve says instantly. His warm, large hands give a tender squish on your waist, before sliding up and around to curl snugly around your body. He sits up a little straighter, his nose nudging against yours. 

“No, Steve,” you say, cheeks a touch heated. You count his eyelashes so you can avoid his eyes, you voice dropping volume towards the end of your sentence. “I mean, like… like ever.” 

Surprise flashes in his eyes for only a moment. His gaze darts down to your lips quickly but then he’s smiling, nudging closer, and stealing a quick kiss off your lips. Now he’s taken your fourth kiss too. 

You flush, something warm pinging its way up your spine. 

“That’s okay,” He murmurs, sounding like he really means it. 

“It is?” 

“It’s great. You’re great.” He kisses you again—your fifth— so sweet it tastes like sugar on your lips, his arms around you pulling you in closer. You drown in it, enamoured by how it feels to have his lips against yours. God, he makes you dizzy. 

Steve breaks the kiss but stays close, his arms pulling you closer still so you’re straddling him properly. He’s warm, so��warm— and so freakin’ nice to you. 

“You don’t find it weird?” You can’t help but whisper. Your eyes crush closed, unable to face him. 

“Weird?” Steve echoes. “Are you kidding me? It’ll take more than that to freak me out.” 

One of his hands shifts up, moving up off your waist to cradle your jaw gently in his large palm. He peppers a string of kisses along your cheek and jaw, beginning to suck a sweet spot beneath your ear. Your hips shift before you realising, subtly grinding down into his. Flames begin to burn in your stomach. 

“It’s—I mean it’s kind of, like, a little embarrassing, don’t you think?” You continue, voice a little breathier than before. You’re not sure what you’re trying to convince of him of— you certainly don’t want him to stop. 

Steve’s lips brush over the barely forming bruise on your skin and your breath hitches. 

“Are you feeling embarrassed?” 

One slow kiss against your neck, his plush lips accompanied by the heat of his tongue. You squirm in his lap but don’t answer, fearful of being too truthful. You are and you aren’t. He isn’t making you embarrassed but you are, just a little. 

Your silence makes Steve pause, digging his face out of your neck to meet your eyes. “Hey. You shouldn’t be embarrassed- if you are for some other reason, we can— we can like stop—“ 

“No.” You cut in, God, now you’re seriously giving him the wrong idea. “No, oh my god, I sound so stupid- it’s not you— Steve—“ 

He cuts you off with another kiss, your sixth, and steals your runaway thoughts. It blissfully chases away your nerves for just a moment. 

“Great.” He smiles against your mouth, giving another squeeze of your waist. “Cos you don’t need to be.” He kisses your mouth again, seven. “All you need to be is enjoying yourself, okay? 

You like the sound of that— adore the way he’s so seamlessly finds the thing that sets your nerves alight and soothes it so easily. You whisper back, “Okay,” and gift him your eighth kiss, sweet and fierce. 

[sugawara--san]

sometimes i can't even picture bkdk doing typical coupley things like a cheek kiss or something but for some reason i can clearly picture them slow dancing in the middle of the night with no music

[thirdmagic]

this part from the stranger ending fucking got me, man.

[justafewberries]

“Do you want me to have them sedate you until it’s over?” asks Haymitch. He’s not joking. This is a man who spent his adult life at the bottom of a bottle, trying to anesthetize himself against the Capitol’s crimes. The sixteen-year-old boy who won the second Quarter Quell must have had people he loved— family, friends, a sweetheart maybe — that he fought to get back to. Where are they now? How is it that until Peeta and I were thrust upon him, there was no one at all in his life? What did Snow do to them?

- Katniss on Haymitch, Mockingjay, Page 166

[fumifooms]

What if we were both magic prodigies and it otherized us in different ways and we devoted ourselves to protecting a family member who has general other goals & priorities. What if we both did self-sacrifical devotion in opposite ways.

What if we were dark mirrors of each other and where I've grown overcontrolling you've grown complacent. What if, bought as a servant into a pretty loving home, ownership and control is what love looks like to me, and to you neglected and lonely growing up, love is gratefully taking any scraps of it you’re lent.

By belonging to someone, even if she comes back injured or fails at finding Delgal, she feels like she belongs and is cherished, by owning someone he feels safe in them not leaving him.

She’s what’s tethering him do you see… And he’s the only thing giving her direction and purpose in her state. She needs a compass and he needs a support.

They’re both so out of it 😭 It’s the weirdly intense and unearned mutual trust and reliance on each other?? They’re each other’s weird little comfort codependent teddy bear. Or at least they were headed towards that before SHE DIED THEN HE DIED THEN THEY BOTH FORGOT ABOUT EACH OTHER AND NEVER MET EVER AGAIN. Though she’s also the guard attack hound keeping him safe… And vice versa he heals her and can rewrite her very being with just one wave of his hand. They’re both so so mentally and physically vulnerable both but they cling onto each other. They can’t perceive things accurately but despite it all someway somehow they stumble into something closer to resembling companionship just before they both die. Falin is just that kind and Thistle is just that lonely. Overworked.

We both haven’t lived for ourselves in a very long time, haven’t we.

They both have a similar devotion to the people they love but again the difference is that Thistle starts overtsepping while Falin is self-effacing. The other difference between them is that people care about Falin <3 People have given up on Thistle long ago, and he has given people reasons to, while people refuse to give up on Falin. Yaad has a mini arc about it dw about it it’s ok he’s not all alone in the end 😭😭 He reached out for Marcille’s hand but they already all wanted to help him, they just had to be given the chance to, Yaad just had to be given the chance to, it’s okay I’m okay

Hey what if we learned to get in touch with our own identity and the world around us and living in the present again through being in the worst codependent situationship ever.

Falin and Thistle sitting in a tree, sucking on flowers together because they’re h-u-n-g-r-y 💕💕💕

I bet he’s only ever thought of flowers as useless ornaments. Weak weeds. But she shows him they’re tasty and useful and good and pretty in their own right too and deserve existing without proving their worth and waaa <33 Thistles…... Did you know thistles taste sweet if you remove the thorns and eat them?

"Even as a chimera, her kind nature remains" you can’t suppress her in the way that matters. You can’t soothe him in the way that matters. It’s doomed. You’re doomed. It’s all doomed. Save me.

[momentomori24]

This is the most devastating thing they could've pulled here. These aren't flashbacks. Maria was killed before she ever got to see the earth that she loved so much from afar. They never got to explore the world together the way they always wanted to.

These are fantasies. Dreams that never got fulfilled. Glimpses of everything that could've been but never was. Shadow isn't reminiscing on his past-- he's getting lost in flashes of that happy, content future him and Maria never got to have. What if I just cried.

[lienspien]

Barty is provocative as fuck and James is easy to rile up. Usually, it just leads to James storming off with Barty laughing. One time, James was having his own problems, and Barty came by and started a fight. James said the most offensive personal thing ever that got Barty so mad, he got personal too. Then they both are just yelling at each other, and everyone is kind of scared to pull them apart. Eventually James just tells him to fuck off and Barty does, for the first time, storm off.

They were seen making out later that night

[shiggybrainr0t]

softly loving you

warnings: mha spoilers regarding aizawa

aizawa is asleep on your couch.

that fact in itself isn’t a big deal- he sleeps everywhere. it isn’t rare to see him curled up in his sleeping bag on the floor of his classroom. his students have long gotten used to it, stepping over him if need be. it’s very endearing to those who know and love him. but you know better.

aizawa is constantly tired because he never truly rests.

he never fully lets himself sink into a true slumber, one ear always listening in case something happens, in case someone needs him. (there have too many times where he wasn’t with his students when they needed him-and he’s determined to never fail them again.)

so there’s few times that aizawa actually sleeps. this is one of those times. he’s slumped over on your couch, mouth hanging open and snoring. his eye patch has half fallen off because he’s buried his head into the cute throw pillow with a black cat on it that you got because it reminded you of him. (he acted like he didn’t think that was funny, but he pulled you into a kiss just after you held it up and showed it to him.)

you hate to do it, but you know his back is going to kill him the next morning if you let him sleep like that any longer. so you walk over and perch on the edge of the couch by his waist and begin to gently run your fingers through his hair, twisting it lightly when you get to the ends of the inky strands. over the years you’ve learned how to wake him up without startling him. he is a hero after all, and when he’s startled his first thought is defense, which ended up with your arms in a strong hold before he realized it was you. (you’ll never forget the look on his face whenever he realized that it was you.)

it shows how deep in sleep he is by how it take you calling his name a couple of times to get him to stir. one dark eye slowly blinks open to look at you, and a small smile appears on his face when he sees that’s it you.

“hi.” you whisper, a grin of your own showing on your face.

“hi.” his voice is deeper than normal, a gravely quality to it that only appears whenever he first wakes up. “what time is is?”

“almost midnight. c’mon hero, let’s go to bed.”

he lets you pull him up, not helping and making you do all the work, smiling at you in a sleepy, goofy way whenever you huff at him. the click of his prosthetic hitting your hardwood floors is jarring in the otherwise silent apartment, but you both ignore it. when you get to your bedroom, he sits on the edge of the bed to start taking his leg off but pauses whenever you get on your knees before him.

“let me do it.” is what you murmur, but you don’t get to before he cups your face in one large, calloused hand, engulfing the side of your face. his eyes are deep as they stare at you nuzzling into his palm and kissing the center. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip before letting go and leaning back, leaving you to it.

after you take it off, you place it gently beside the nightstand and crawl onto your own side of the bed, beside aizawa who was already under the covers and waiting for you. he pulls you close with one arm, so that you’re facing each other and holding hands in the middle by your chests. he had taken his eye patch off while waiting for you, and you gaze at him, quietly marveling at the rough, gorgeousness he posses so quietly.

he leans forward to press a solid kiss to your forehead, then your lips. it’s a slow, lazy kiss, both of you tired from the day yet still wanting to show each other your love. the two of you fall asleep like that, foreheads pressed together, hands held between your hearts that have long since matched beats.

[theteapotofdoom]

Straw Hats Crew: But how are we gonna get Nami back? Do you know where she is?

Luffy: No … but I know someone who does :)

Me: Oh fuck please tell me he took the bag with Buggy’s head, oh my god PLEASE tell me he took the bag with Buggy’s head, please, please, please, PLEASE, let the final arc of the season be my beloved boys rescuing my beloved Nami with the reluctant help of my beloved cringefail unhinged silly little meow meow Buggy

Luffy: *pulls Buggy’s head out of the bag*

Me, a normal person:

[kirby-the-gorb]