A collection of things I like and/or am obsessed with.
| She/Her | GreyAce 💜🤍🖤 |
| Artfol • Pamelo | AO3 • Pamelo |
My Stuff #
Robinwest is my Forever OTP. Even if I'm not posting about them, I'm still thinking about them.🧡💙
Judy stands at the window, arms crossed and a frown on her face as rain pelts the glass and trickles down—drop purling to drop in chaotic rivulets.
Across the yard, a branch snaps in the wind, and Judy’s frown deepens.
She’d pulled herself out of bed two hours early this morning with one simple goal in mind: go for a run before heading to the hospital.
Instead, she’s stood here in her bedroom watching her plans wash away in a downpour because, apparently, it doesn’t matter how many incredible advancements humanity has made (they’ve colonized another planet, for Christ’s sake), accurately predicting the weather is still beyond the scope of available science.
“‘Partly cloudy’ my ass,” she mutters.
The rain continues its incessant whipping, and Judy considers her second option: the treadmill. It’s right downstairs, and the workout library can replicate the exact route she planned to take anyway. But... It just isn’t the same. She much prefers running outdoors, in fresh, open air.
She’s up now, though, and it seems a waste to do nothing.
Judy huffs a breath, unable to decide. Her running clothes taunt her from the closet.
“Come back to bed...”
Don’s morning-deep voice draws her from her wallowing.
She turns from the cold, uninviting morning outside, to him—only half-covered by sheets, his exposed skin undoubtedly warm and tempting to be touched—then back to the window. To the lashing rain, and dangerous sway of the trees.
Frowning at the gray once more, she flicks the blinds a bit harder than necessary, shutting out the source of her irritation.
An irritation that begins to ebb the moment she sinks beneath the sheets, and into Don’s arms.
“It wasn’t even supposed to rain today,” she sighs.
“I know...” Don pulls her closer until her back is flush against his bare chest. As warm as she knew he would be. “But this is a nice alternative, isn’t it?”
The scratch of his stubble and softness of his lips grazing her shoulder sends a pleasant shiver up her spine. She covers his arms with her own, wrapping them tighter, nestling deeper as their legs intertwine.
“Mm. It’s okay, I guess,” she teases softly.
Don chuckles through another kiss to her neck, and slips one hand free from hers, trailing his fingertips up her arm. Ghosting from wrist to shoulder, shoulder blade to ribs, and lower, to glide under her tank top. He follows the curve of her hipbone down, and spreads his palm low on her stomach, drawing her body to meld even farther into his. As close as possible. Judy’s thighs press together at the motion, and she can’t help the soft moan that escapes her throat as she gently writhes against him, encouraging, desperate.
Like an echo to the slow, aimless drift of his lips on her nape, he caresses every chaste inch of her he can reach, setting her alight in ways only he ever could.
“Don...”
She feels his pleased smile drag up the side of her neck, and his breath flows heavily against her ear as his fingers edge downward now.
“If you still want that exercise, Princess...” His tone is gravel and honey and sin. “I’ve got a few ideas...”
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kaveh akbar, 'calling a wolf a wolf' // doc luben, 'love letters or suicide notes' // @/nutnoce, tumblr // 'my body's made of crushed little stars', mitski // @/ojibwa, tumblr // 'spring', mary oliver
If you EVER think Anthony Head is anything less than an angel then you’d best remember that I have always been a huge fan of his and we’ve always had a little contact over the years and he heard I’d come out as Trans and was having a hard time and that I was kind of sad that the photos I had from conventions with him were of me with long hair and no binder and they were all signed to “Sarah” and so he invited me to spend the day with him at his farm and he picked me up from the station and we just hung out and had lunch and he insisted on paying and took loads of photos and had them printed on photo paper the same day so he could sign them to Jay, along with other photos of him as Giles and Uther and he literally spent five hours chatting with me and got all of the pronoun stuff right every time and then he dropped me off at the station, gave me a final massive hug, waved me through the ticket barrier and insisted I message him when I got home so he knew I got back safe. (More HERE)
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[two tumblr soldiers bleeding out on the internet frontlines]
“heh… remember strawbebby…. And ranibow spramkle… always made me laugh”
“Don’t talk like that man. We’re gonna get out of here i prommy.” [mortar fire sails overhead and land nearby] “christ its like a childrens hospital out there”
[through shallow breaths] “I always loved…… the color of the sky…………”
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“everyone is mad at me and they just won’t tell me” —> “no one has said anything about being mad at me and i haven’t done anything to warrant being mad at so if someone is silently fuming about me and not saying anything that’s their problem and actually quite weird of them and i can effortlessly move on with my life”
this took SUCH a huge deal of unlearning because, like so many of you, i came out of a home where being quietly in trouble WAS the default state, and i DID grow up not just with the assumption but borderline religious conviction that Everyone Is Mad At Me, I Am Bad, I Must Exist In A Constant State of Attempting to Pacify The Natural Rage I Inspire In Everyone. and no it actually turns out that my family are the freaks . and yours are too
“this isn’t true because i DEFINITELY silently fume at people in the hopes they’ll figure out what they did and apologize” that’s not good. you shouldn’t do that
“this isn’t true because the ex-friendship that traumatized me ended explosively after they were mad at me and never told me why” that’s not good. they shouldn’t be doing that
“i don’t think this is true because my current friend group is constantly icing me out until i figure out what ive done to upset them and properly apologized without being told” hey thats not good. they should not be doing that
if the peacefulness of your relationship with someone (familial, romantic, friendly, anything) can be destroyed by effective communication/asking them for effective communication, you have got to get out of there. if you can’t get out of there, you’ve got to throw away any ideas about what that person thinks of you because they have their own shit to figure out before they can accurately read anyone else
I've read a few recently published books, and there's this recurring pattern where if anyone does anything bad and interesting, they have to later talk about it in a way that makes it clear that it was a misunderstanding/ justified/ not their fault, so they're still a good person. and if they have a disagreement with another character, they have to therapy talk it out, regardless of their background. it doesn't matter if this is a street urchin with three teeth who just stabbed and kidnapped someone, you will get eloquent sterile therapy speak that will smooth out any possible emotional tension. and everyone asks for permission before they kiss, and waits for a clear enthusiastic yes. again, doesn't matter the character's background or situation, they will ask "can I please kiss you," because if they didn't, that could get all yucky and uncertain, couldn't it? and if a character is from a rich family, they will hate being in a rich family, and hate wealth signifiers, and actually be all for class equality. and everyone is casually queer, without thought being put into how that would mesh with the society that is being described. like yes, this is violent class-based system obsessed with inheritance, but no, it's not actually a problem that the child they've coldly groomed to take on the family mantle is unwilling to beget an heir because of gay. the parents might be terrible, cruel and fascistic, but they're not homophobic! I don't know, it just seems like EVERYTHING that could actually be messy gets sanded and sanded until it's smooth as a shark, but the Fun Violence is allowed to stay, because bloodshed doesn't actually bother anyone or have any consequence apart from your rogue character shrugging and going oops, was that me? the rogue is still a good person though. if you think they're not, just wait for the two solid pages of introspection. and yes they started the book by slitting two throats, but that was fine. they will ask permission before hugging you.
btw it is sexy and cool to uplift and admire people who have skills you wish you had without using their ability as a stick to beat yourself with. even and especially if you are jealous of them.
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in new zealand, our evil government are trying to legislate definitions of women and men, in ways that are legally incoherent but clearly trying to pave the way for more horrifically transphobic legislation. we have an election in a few months but our main opposition party, and all our mainstream news media, are so spineless and cooked that there's a good chance the ghouls will win reelection.
it took 2 whole months for local terf group 'speak up for women' to get 2,000 signatures on the petition that led to this new bill in our parliament.
it's taken five days for this pro-trans 'they don't speak for us' petition to get 17,000 signatures.
this is a show of support that is really heartening for a lot of trans people in our corner of the world.
cis/ish women, if you're from here but haven't signed yet, please do. and if you're not from here and you know any new zealanders, could you send them this petition? a full fifth of our population lives overseas, and there's a good chance they don't follow the news.
LINK
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