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#he's my boyfriend actually
whoisspence · 3 months
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i will never get over how beautiful his smile is
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irlsocks · 1 year
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I love him with my whole heart
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lucilucialu · 2 years
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he's an angel he's everything
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inkskinned · 11 months
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the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.
sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.
you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.
it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.
but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.
they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.
they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.
barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.
and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.
but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.
they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!
this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.
#this shifts gender so much bc it actually affects everyone#yes it's a gendered phenomenon. i have written a LOT about how different genders experience it. that's for a different post.#writeblr#ps my comments about seeing someone cry -- this is not to shame any person#and on this blog we support workers.#at the same time it's a really hard experience to see someone that looks like you. clearly in agony. and have them forced to keep going.#when you're young it doesn't necessarily look like acting. it looks scary. and that's what this is about - the fact that teens#have likely already been exposed to that definition of things. because the internet exists#and without the context of healthy education. THAT is the image burned into their minds about what it looks like.#it's also just one of those personal nuanced biases -#at 19 i thought it was normal to be in pain. to cry. to not-like-it. that it should be perfunctory.#it was what i had seen.#and it didn't help that my religious upbringing was like . 'yeah that's what you get for premarital. but also for the reference#we do think you should never actually enjoy it lol'#so like the point im making is that ppl get exposed to that stuff without the context of something more tender#and assume .... 'oh. so it's fine i am not enjoying myself'. and i know they do because I DID.#he was my first boyfriend. how was i supposed to know any different#i didn't even have the mental wherewithal to realize im a lesbian . like THAT used to suffering.
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emedeme · 9 months
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Let Luffy do the poster thing, he deserves it!!!
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pencilscratchins · 3 months
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to everyone asking when i’m gonna post art again… hey guys i recently acquired six incredibly large clown paintings so i’m sort of booked at the moment
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pigdemonart · 1 year
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GUESS WHO IS COMING TO DINNER?
Going to see the movie later today motivated me to clean up some sketches. Poor Mario…he is really trying to be a good brother here.
Like my art? Please consider tipping!
Important bonus:
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ryssbelle · 4 months
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Inspired by these comics by @zivazivc and this comic by @chongotheartist
This has been chilling in my mind since I first saw ZivaZivcs comic and I finally got the energy to make it XD
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dxndeli-n · 7 months
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Abandonment issues go brrr
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gem-morey · 1 year
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hopefulsapphic · 6 months
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i'm an early seasons steve harrington apologist. sorry. he was not a bad person he was not a bad boyfriend he was literally just 17
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 6 months
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katsuki likes to bite you. it’s his weird way of showing you affection. whenever he feels like annoying you (because he can’t live for more than ten seconds if he’s not being a nuisance) but he also wants to you to know he cares, he’ll find whatever part of your skin is exposed and just—bite.
you don’t remember when he started doing it but you’ve never stopped him so he hasn’t stopped. he bites your exposed shoulder when hes walking by and your lounging in the living area of the dorms, he grabs your hand and bites at your fingers when you’re alone and he bites at your cheeks and nose when you get mad at him for ‘being mean’ and teasing you. to which he always replies with “you love it.”
“why do you do that ?” you asked randomly after he bit your cheek again while you were watching a movie in his room. he looks down at you and his brows furrow in confusion “ do what ?” he asks.
“ bite me,” you play with the ends of his hair a little, it’s been getting longer and he’ll complain about it soon(the only reason he hasn’t cut it yet is because you said it looked good on him) “ why do you that ?” he goes quiet for a moment, gauging to see if you were upset, was it suddenly bothering you ?
he frowns. lips already unconsciously forming into a pout when he speaks “ ya don’t like it when i do ?” he tries to sound self assured, but his question comes out whiny. you smile lightly at him, nosing at the underside of his jaw. “it’s not that, dummy. just wonder why you do it.”
his nose scrunches at the nickname but he pays it no further mind. he huffs out a little breath and looks away from you towards the tv screen, a pink tint grows on his cheeks. having to tell you why he does it suddenly makes him embarrassed.
“jus’ feel like it. f’ya don’t mind when i do it why’re you questioning me about it.” you feel his hand heat up from where he has it pressed against your stomach under your shirt, no doubt getting more and more embarrassed having to explain why he has this weird little habit.
you shrug, sighing and nuzzling into him a little more. you press a light peck to his neck and his hand heating up even more makes you smile “i don’t mind it, just never had anyone bite me before.”
“good” he huffs, suddenly pressing you closer to his side. a sudden rush of protectiveness washing over him “get used to it. m’the only one who’s gonna be doing that from now on, got that ?”
“alright” you giggle. you suddenly get an idea and you look up at him. “you wouldn’t mind it if i bit you, then ?” a teasing smirk appears on your face when he almost cracks his neck when looking down at you, wide eyed and cheeks absolutely set ablaze. he sputters and looks away, unable to keep eye contact as he looks to the screen again.
“knock yourself out.” he tries to sound indifferent but his voice cracks a little at the end of his sentence and he cranes his neck to the side a bit to give you more access. you don’t mention either. instead you lean closer to him and nip at his neck lightly. his hold on you tightens for a moment before loosening up slightly and he suddenly won’t look at you anymore. not even when you laugh and poke at his cheek, asking him what’s got him so red in the face. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are so laser focused on the tv you fear he might burn a hole through it. he offers you nothing more than a harsh glare and a muttered out “shush.”
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gazkamurocho · 18 days
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This came to me in a dream??
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pt. 2
you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.
you ran into him on the street.
no, like, literally ran into him.
you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.
oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!
and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-
anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.
any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—
laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you
—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.
anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.
you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.
of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.
you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.
(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)
your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.
you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.
you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.
you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.
time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.
nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.
and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.
it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.
you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.
it definitely isn’t good for you.
but neither is life without dick grayson.
you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.
you were human!
but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.
never.
he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.
your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.
you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.
and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.
you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.
you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.
your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.
and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.
you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.
fucking batman?
you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.
a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.
you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.
so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.
trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.
“trouble??”
your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.
trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.
dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.
trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.
“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.
“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.
you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.
your chest hurts.
you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.
“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”
that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.
dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.
“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.
you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.
you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.
he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.
“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.
you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.
“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.
he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.
“..oookay?”
dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”
“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.
your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”
“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”
dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.
“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”
one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.
“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.
you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.
he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.
“can you get us untangled?”
dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.
“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”
he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”
“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.
dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.
when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.
he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”
you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.
a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.
shit. literally.
you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.
“is that trouble’s?” he asks.
you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”
“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.
“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.
“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.
“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.
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wu-does-art · 26 days
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pov your autistic boyfriend finally starts unmasking around you
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lavendergalactic · 3 months
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☆  cherie x crush matching icons!
day 1 of @aquariium-ediits event ! "a fictional pair you think would celebrate valentine's day together" f2u w/ credit, reblog appreciated!
well i mean they canonically spend valentines day together as a couple! and i wanted to do cherie and crush because they're just me and my boyfriend, so this is also a little gift for him (i love you locket!)
inspired by hiddencircus' eimiko post :3
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