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hyperfixated-maybe · 3 days

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Not what I usually post, but I need people to see this insanely intimate moment I had with two complete strangers at the airport the other day. This was typed out in my notes app on the bus ride from the airport so I’d get every fresh little detail from my memory.

“Sitting on a Lufthansa flight, eight hours from Frankfurt to Boston. We’re a half hour ahead of time, sitting on the runway awaiting an open gate. I hear a clang, and under my seat rolls a metal water bottle. I reach under and pass it back to the kid who dropped it. They wear a soft jean jacket with a shirt underneath reading something along the lines of “I’m really a moth and this is my human costume”.

“Here you go, bud.” I say.

They thank me.

Five, ten minutes later and everybody is getting up to be deplaned. I hear behind me the same kid talking to their mom. “There’s a type of jellyfish that can live forever. If something doesn’t eat it. They go back to an earlier stage of their life…”

I turn back and pull lobsters into the conversation. They tell me they went to an away science camp where they learned about marine biology.

“I’m Moth” they draw out the “th” sound.

I repeat it back: “Moth?? That’s such a cool name dude!”

The mom jumps in. “They named themself that!”

“What’s your name?” Moth asks me.

“Sam. My pronouns are he/him, what are yours?”

“They/them!”

“That’s so cool! I’m trans too!”

The mom again: “They have older siblings, so they’ve had a lot more time to think about these things than most other nine year olds.”

There’s a pause in the conversation here, and I can feel my emotions bending. “You know you’re the luckiest kid ever, right?”

“I am?”

“Mhm..” I’ve started to get shakey now. I look away and bring my arm to my face, trying to control my emotions. The mom looks at me, and waits a moment before saying, “y’know, I give out mom hugs to anyone who needs it.” She opens her arms and I lean into the embrace.

When it’s over I find myself saying “You’re the coolest person I know. I hope you have a great life!” to Moth as I leave. I wave behind me as I get off the plane.

“Me too!”

I wait on the edge of the group as the rest of the cadets trickle off of the plane and condense beside me. I see Moth and their mom walk by, and I catch the mom’s eye. We smile at each other. Moth doesn’t see me.

They came back. To find me. And Moth asks for a hug. (Or, more accurately, if they can hug 𝘮𝘦.)

“Of course!” I bend down. We’re at an awkward height, and I shift to see if I should kneel or remain. By the end I’m kneeling.

We hug more times than I remember. Eight, nine, ten times? I don’t rightfully know. Each hug they get more emotional, and I see tears well up in their brown eyes.

The mother says “sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t know they’d start crying like this.” I tell her it’s fine, it’s okay.

Their straight, brown, a bit longer than shoulder length hair is messed up, and the mom is behind them, smoothing it behind their ear. So am I.

“It’s gonna be okay.” The mom says to them.

I tell them that they’re the coolest person I know. We hug, and each time we pull away, we hold each other’s arms, or grasp each others hands.

“Sorry about this. With the jet lag and stuff they start acting like a drunk person!”

Moth laughs through their tears, and I laugh with them.

“Sam’s gotta go with his group now,” the mother says. So I do.

The last time I saw Moth was about a half hour after our first interaction on the plane. I’m walking with my group to get my passport stamped. Moth is alone now, waiting for their mom outside a bathroom. I hug them one last time as I walk by, and file down through the seatbelt barrier maze.

I wave, and Moth smiles back.

And that’s it. That’s my whole story. As much as they’ll ever know of it, at least.”

#how do i even tag this #transgender #trans #nonbinary #transmasc #idk man #i cried writing this #and reading it through before posting #I’ve told about three people up till now #writing #(?) i guess #I’m a mess dude

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denkisauce · 2 years

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best genre of photo actually

#the first time i did whippits i was in todoroki cosplay in an alleyway last halloween and that’s the only way i ever wanna do dr*gs #tw drugs #how do i even tag this #tsuyu asui #froppy #kill la kill #ryuko matoi #sonic #?????#idk who the top right girl is but i’m in love with her #cosplay #my stuff

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twistedpictures · 4 days

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what will the name of this tumblr sexyman be?

#how do i even tag this #homestuck #fantrolls #tumblr sexymen #fanart

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eddiediaaz · 1 year

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if you chose other, please let me know in the tags! i'm always looking to try new food.

#polls #food #potatoes #how do i even tag this #tumblr polls #i love all of these potato foods btw #i just haven't tried enough potato dishes!!#but hey i finally got polls lmao

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styllwaters · 4 months

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saw your post about accepting art requests. Can you draw the early Devonian marellid arthropod Mimetaster? i think they look cool and weird in a silly way :O

Weirdest normal girl I've ever seen

#with an equally weird name #we stan #mimetaster #my art #art #it's like if a starfish and a spider crab had a child #arthropod #devonian #illustration #how do i even tag this

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little-pondhead · 6 months

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[sorry for the tiny text!!]

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Danny: Wait, how did you learn to do that???

Fright Knight: *violent flashbacks to Clockwork's Sailor Moon era*

#doodles from a pond #danny phantom #fright knight #okay so I’m trying to figure out my preferences when it comes to comic making #and here’s the results I have so far #how do I even tag this #anime man fright knight au??#this was supposed to be a Halloween special and then I didn’t finish it on time #I’m gonna go question myself in a corner have a good day

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peterspinkrobe · 10 months

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Communion | AU Priest Miguel O’Hara x female Reader

A/N: I commissioned the above Priest Miguel. Ever since the artist sent the sketch, (@ ejpuki on twitter plz go show love!) this story has been a brewin’ in my cranium. I am not a newbie when it comes to fanfic, but a virgin to writing Miguel. Please accept this offering to the mania that is fandom. Feedback is appreciated. I know the tenses are probably all over the place. Part 2 is live!!. Let me know if you’re interested ~~

Warnings: Religious content, parents, dirty-minded reader, no mention of Y/N

As you sat in the middle pew, aisle seats, you fiddled with the dress your mother guilted you into wearing. The hem of the skirt had a little fraying and you couldn’t help but pick at it.

The meddling was met with a small smack on your wrist from your mother.

“Stop! You’re going to make it worse! I know it’s an old dress but it will only look that way if you pick at it.” The sharpness in tone and the lacy lilac dress from high school brought you back to all of the Sunday mornings you’d been ripped from the comfort of your bed to attend church.

Church. Your head was already starting to hurt from the early morning light pouring through the stained glasses windows, but your tried to remain neutral to spare mom.

Your relationship with the Almighty soured not long after your father passed. Faith was hard to come by and the struggles you’d faced recently only strained that even further.

“Sorry, mama.” You say quietly, acting like you’re still twelve and not in your mid twenties.

Ever since you moved back in you’ve had to live under “her rules”. Sunday service is one of those rules. Considering the headache you’ve caused her recently, you ignore your own and do as she asks. It’s only fair.

But church? Last week was your first time back inside a church since leaving for college five years ago. It was the same one you’d been dragged to in your younger years. The same stained pews, same old books of Psalms, same feeling of estrangement despite being surrounded by the same old folks.

Your mom had turned her attention to the lady that lived on our street and you turned your own attention to your fingernails, scraping underneath them for dirt that wasn’t there. You think about how you had dropped the habit until moving back in, but was interrupted by microphone static.

You pulled your gaze to the front of the church and saw Father Steen tapping the microphone. Despite only being five years since you last saw him, the man seemed to have aged decades. His frail frame balanced on the podium as he spoke. You realized why the microphone was needed when he started speaking - amplifying the hushed tone of the elder addressing his congregation.

“Good morning and many blessings to you all this Sunday morning,” he began and you couldn’t help but lower your gaze back to the frayed bit of your dress. His monotone voice was… kinda boring. You hated thinking that way because Father Steen was such a good man and he cared for your mother greatly when dad passed. He was mentioning an upcoming surgery and you were back to picking at your fingernails. His voice eked on through the speakers, “so we will be having a transitional deacon come in to take over my position until I recover. This fine young man has graciously accepted this position as he is working to become a priest himself. Please welcome Mr. O’Hara as he leads us in prayer to begin communion for this month.”

There is respectful applause and your eyes are still on your hands until your mom elbows you gently. You start to apologize again for not paying attention but notice she and her pew neighbor are giggling as they clap. You start to clap your own hands as you look up at what they were giggling like schoolgirls about when your hands freeze in their clapped position - almost like you’re praying.

The deacon that Father Steen introduced was… gorgeous, and he was looking at you. You blushed, embarrassingly, under the gaze of the dark eyes. Could he tell you hadn’t been paying attention?

Well, you most certainly were now.

You pulled your eyes away from him to look at your mother who was wiggling her eyebrows at you, causing you to blush even deeper and turn back to the front.

The first thing you notice about the man standing at the front of the church was his height. He towered over the podium he placed a hand on. Father Steen came up to only just above his elbows with his hunched body.

The eyes that were watching you now surveyed the room and the light from the windows shown dark, warm pools of irises. His face…

Sharp symmetry made up his countenance. Distinct cheekbones bobbing as the smooth bronze skin stretched upwards into a smile. The strong jawline accentuated with the muscles of his lips pulling back, revealing a dazzling toothy smile.

When he spoke for the first time, you understood why your mom cried during Psalms at times. His voice was gospel.

“Thank you, all, for welcoming me into your parish. I know that you have received excellent spiritual guidance from Father Steen. I can only hope to at least partially fill his shoes in his absence.” His voice boomed throughout the church with no need for a microphone. “Before we begin the sacred ritual that is communion, let us bow our heads in prayer.”

The church around you dutifully lowered their heads, and you did the same. Hating closing your eyes to the alluring man in front of the church. At least his voice still filled your ears with song.

“Heavenly Father, we are gathered here today, in your house, in the name of your Son to receive the Body and Blood of Christ…” you decide it won’t be such a terrible sin to sneak a peek during prayer. You lift your head up to catch another glimpse at the ethereal creature leading prayer while he wasn’t looking.

But he was looking. Right at you as he continued to recite, “We are all sinners, and we are all in need of your grace and forgiveness.” You start to think about how much you needed his grace, when you pinch yourself for the blasphemy.

You’re still staring at each other as he finishes, “We pray that You will bless this communion and that it will deepen our relationships with You.” You instantly feel heat in your gut when you wonder just how deep it can go..

You think you see him grin slightly, but he pulls his eyes away from yours and you quickly put your head back down.

“In Your Blessed Name, Amen.” He ends. “Amen”, the church responds in unison and you squeak it out as well.

The first pew stands and approaches the front of the church, choir boys retrieving the communion goods. You notice that there is a split in the line as one is given the small wafer and grape juice shot by Father Steen and the other line the new deacon.

You can’t keep your eyes off him as he offers the sacrament to each person in line. He is taking longer than Father Steen, seeming to ask questions before presenting the body and blood of a savior.

As it came to be your pew’s turn, you stood. With only a few people in front of you, you studied Miguel’s figure in short glances.

Along with being a towering figure, he was a wide one as well. Muscles filled in the long-sleeved black button down shirt. His large upper body tapered off into a slim waist, tucked neatly into dark pants. A belt accentuated the fit waist even further. Your eyes trailed quickly across the thick neck that was accessorized by the all too familiar white collar of priesthood. When you were just behind one more person, your eyes fell to the floor.

Part of you wished you would be on Father Steen’s side as you feel as though you’re about to burst from this proximity of the giant man. He was bent over speaking to an elder of the church, giving her a soft smile as she blessed him for coming to ‘our little church.’

The man in line in front of you stood to Father Steen and the woman was letting Mr. O’Hara go from a sweet embrace.

Thank God, you guessed, for the years of attending communion as your muscle memory tore your legs from their form rooted position at the altar.

You approached the tall figure and your eyes are locked on the lips of the man in front of you. You see them move, hearing nothing but the beating of your heart in your eardrums.

“I-I’m sorry. What?” You sputter the words and heat creeps into your chest and face.

A soft chuckle escapes his full lips and he smiles as he repeats, “What is your name?”

You give it to him. And he says it. The way your name sounds in his music makes you smile up at him. He holds your gaze for a moment before speaking again.

“The Body of Christ.” He extends his hand in an upward position, the white wafer between his index finger and thumb.

You bow your head slightly in reverence of the offering. As you start to pull your head up again, his pinky and ring finger catch under your chin, lifting your face the rest of the way.

You breathe out a small gasp and open your mouth. He seems to mirror the action slightly as his own mouth drops slightly open. You extend your tongue a little as he places the thin wafer onto it.

His gaze is heavy as he watches you take the offering into your mouth. Your breath hitches when he runs his thumb across your pouted bottom lip, catching some saliva with it.

“Amen.” You respond and it’s not until he pulls his hand from your face when you turn to grab a small glass of grape juice. “The Precious Blood.” You hear him say behind you as you bring the glass to your lips, relishing the sweet refreshment.

Your face is red hot as you turn to walk back to your pew, ignoring your mother’s glances as she had already been back to her seat.

The burning in your cheeks is even more fiery as it dawns on you that the whole church saw the exchange. You hope, you pray, that it was perceived as a normal moment between a new Shepard and a member of his flock.

Communion wraps up and Father Steen takes a seat behind the the new head of church as he begins his sermon. The slight pressure of his thumb on your bottom lip created a pool of heat in your belly that wouldn’t go away.

You try to pay attention to the Good Word, you really do, but your mind is other places. Definitely not holy places.

Maybe coming to church won’t be too bad after all…

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #priest au #atsv miguel #miguel x you #how do i even tag this #fanfic #spiderverse fanfic

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star-trekster · 1 year

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I don’t know how this appeared on my screen

Inspired by this and everyone’s favorite writer and graphic designer

#how do i even tag this #Star Trek #silly #vulcans #vulcan #surak #monk t’ingle #THIS IS SILLLYYYY #and a parody #SORRY

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adrenalineaquaries · 6 months

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Something I was randomly thinking of while scrolling through the 'Humans are space orcs' tag.

Aliens are perplexed about a human's physical abilities and appearance (and mental strength but that's for another time), right?

I want to know how humans react to this knowledge. I want to see a human struggling to comprehend why aliens find humans scary. Aliens. The galactic creatures that have tentacles, horns, multiple eyes, could be insanely tall, have claws, sharp teeth, yada yada. And yet humans terrify them? Humans. These short, fleshy creatures that have limited ability with their skinny legs and their small fingers. These squishy beings that can barely understand their own species and can (almost) never get along. These weird abominations that either don't die despite falling off of a mountain side or instantly destroys half of their bodily system by falling down a few flight of stairs.

Of course, humans are the one's thinking this way. Many of them don't consider themselves to be anything special or even interesting and then suddenly, aliens think that they are amongst the most vicious creatures in the universe??? They don't understand why??? And there’s just confusion on both sides.

I'm just rambling at this point but I really just wanted to write this down.

Also bonus:

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"You...think I'm scary?" The human pointed to xemself.

Tynid nodded. How could xe not? Humans were scarily powerful. They were durable, had good endurance, fast, agile, strong, a predator, and were venomous. Xe is just scratching the surface, if xe was being honest. So why did the human look so...unsure?

"I...really don't get why you all are scared. I mean, look at you!" The human gestured to Tynid. "You're tall, have horns, has a tail that could probably snap my bones in one swing- just." The human fell silent.

"I'm...we're not that scary, we can't be that scary compared to other sentient life out there. It just doesn't make sense..."

Tynid didn't know how to feel. Why is the human so convinced that xe wasn't scary? Why is xe so convinced that they were all scarier? Was xe unaware of xes own prowess? Were all humans like this?

-cutting it off here because I don't know how to write sci-fi; also cus I don't know what I'm doing-

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Also, what do aliens think of countries and the different languages? I'm curious what would happen if an alien met someone from the Nordic countries or from Southeastern Asia or from an African country. Just some food for thought.

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space australians #humans are space orcs #rambles #ramblings #earth is a deathworld #how do i even tag this #how do i write #what am i doing #what the fuck #humans #aliens

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