Reblogged theficlistpodcast
me after I've already spent the last twenty minutes infodumping on my latest hyperfixation
No idea if anyone can relate, but can we please all be more careful about what we write on the internet, especially if it's media mostly teens consume?
I have pretty major problems with my weight, not on a dangerous level, but I definitely do have a problem and it definitely is something I struggle with on a daily basis, and I still know the thing that triggered it. And as stupid as it sounds, it was a fanfiction. The author repeatedly talked about how "fat" the population was and how bad it is. They talked especially overweight kids down a lot. And I understand the point, because it is a problem, but it definitely changed my view on myself.
I'm not saying that a random fanfic author is the cause of any mental health problem I have regarding my weight, but it definitely was a turning point for me.
What I'm trying to say is please be careful about what you say online, you never know who your texts/videos or anything else is reaching
Reblogged
Why forcemasc?
I want to watch you grow into a confident person, to have you admire yourself in the mirror, to watch you get more free during intimacy because your dysphoria eases, I want to help you find your personal style and dump everything you hate at the thrift store, I want to help you ease your dysphoria by showing you what works for me, I want to give you the experience you "missed out on", I want to make you feel like one of the guys.
Yeah ofcourse the testosterone shots and gel slathering are hot, ofcourse I want to mess with your head a little and fuck you silly, fuck yeah to all that (hard) kink stuff we mutually like. I'm the first to admit that I'm a fucking freaky faggot.
But I would only want someone that knows they're masc (leaning). I would never trigger your dysphoria (on purpose - and if I do I'll take responsibility and act on it), I would never tell you to man up because you're experiencing trauma. All these things are so gross to me.
I'm aiming to be like the boys you admired growing up, I'll be that guy who picks you up with his car and will be leaning against the hood outside waiting for you while smoking a cigarette. If you're not out to your family I'll act like I'm your gay bestie, I'll be really casual about it. I have saved all my old binders, you can have some, I'll take you to stereotypically masc things you've always wanted to go.
If you're scared to go into the men's bathroom I'll kick down the door first and put all attention on me. I know how absolutely humiliating and terrifying it is to change things like pads and tampons in the men's bathroom, bro I got you I will make so much noise so no one will hear. If you don't know how to get rid of the "evidence" shove it into my hand for all I care and I'll act like it's mine. I know this is extremely specific and perhaps laughable but you know...
I was that boy, and I had no one.
Reblogged
Why forcemasc?
I want to watch you grow into a confident person, to have you admire yourself in the mirror, to watch you get more free during intimacy because your dysphoria eases, I want to help you find your personal style and dump everything you hate at the thrift store, I want to help you ease your dysphoria by showing you what works for me, I want to give you the experience you "missed out on", I want to make you feel like one of the guys.
Yeah ofcourse the testosterone shots and gel slathering are hot, ofcourse I want to mess with your head a little and fuck you silly, fuck yeah to all that (hard) kink stuff we mutually like. I'm the first to admit that I'm a fucking freaky faggot.
But I would only want someone that knows they're masc (leaning). I would never trigger your dysphoria (on purpose - and if I do I'll take responsibility and act on it), I would never tell you to man up because you're experiencing trauma. All these things are so gross to me.
I'm aiming to be like the boys you admired growing up, I'll be that guy who picks you up with his car and will be leaning against the hood outside waiting for you while smoking a cigarette. If you're not out to your family I'll act like I'm your gay bestie, I'll be really casual about it. I have saved all my old binders, you can have some, I'll take you to stereotypically masc things you've always wanted to go.
If you're scared to go into the men's bathroom I'll kick down the door first and put all attention on me. I know how absolutely humiliating and terrifying it is to change things like pads and tampons in the men's bathroom, bro I got you I will make so much noise so no one will hear. If you don't know how to get rid of the "evidence" shove it into my hand for all I care and I'll act like it's mine. I know this is extremely specific and perhaps laughable but you know...
I was that boy, and I had no one.
Reblogged
A letter from Dean to Cas, dated Nov 5th
Cas,
I've loved you for so many years that I don't remember any of the firsts anymore - like when fear first turned into longing, when my eyes first met yours a moment too long, when your name first tasted right on my lips, when your hands first felt like home, when your voice first made me feel like I was a little boy in a too big church.
You were something other. Divine. Out of reach. Sometimes I wondered - dared to dream - that maybe you loved me too. But then you'd be gone. You'd leave. You'd stop answering my calls, my texts. And I thought - of course not, of course you couldn't love me.
How could a man love an ant?
And how could an angel love a man?
You told me angels don't have souls. I thought that meant you could never really understand me, or understand the depth and breath of such a human emotion as love. At least not like I do. I thought that meant you could never love me like I loved you.
God, I was so wrong.
I wish you hadn't told me. You did it again. You left me. But now I know I could've had you all along. Now I know how you really felt and how much you felt.
I was so stupid, so blind... you gave up an army for me, you broke Naomi's mind control when I told you I needed you. Yes, you left but... you always came back. You always came back to me, Cas.
Where are you now?
Come back to me, angel, please...
Come back to me just one more time.
I need you
Reblogged
[Good Omens] Renunciation
Summary: Beelzebub's monotonous day in Hell takes a turn when a naked, amnesiac Archangel shows up with a cardboard box and no idea where he is. [Or: Gabriel actually takes the elevator all the way down to Hell at the first try.] Pairing: Archangel Gabriel/Beelzebub Rating: G
Do you ever think that Gabriel was only one push of a button away from getting to Beelzebub immediately and sparing everyone a literal hell of a lot of trouble.
***
Something was up in Hell.
The Lord of the Flies didn't have to wait for a wide-eyed demon to burst in their throne room to know as much. They could hear something going on in the upper levels, a buzzing of energy and disconcerted muttering coming together in a cacophony of utter bewilderment. They had frowned and leaned back on their throne, idly wondering how long it would take for someone to come fetch them; that someone had come quickly enough in the form of a demon whose name they really couldn’t be bothered to remember.
What they sure would never forget were the words out of the demon’s rotted mouth.
“Lord Beelzebub! It’s the Archangel Gabriel - he’s here!”
… What.
“What?”
“He’s here in Hell, and he’s not… he’s not right. It’s like he’s lost his mind, or-- he’s just standing there by the entrance and--”
Whatever they were about to say next was lost to Beelzebub, who immediately vanished in a burst of sulfur and fire to reappear at the entrance, where the commotion was. Their appearance caused several demons to yelp and hastily step out of the way, but the vast majority of those present in the crowded room barely turned, their gaze still fixed on… on…
Well. It was Gabriel all right. Standing there with a wide smile on his face, barely hampered by confusion, naked but for a cardboard box in his hands. Beelzebub blinked.
What in Satan’s name is going on.
Reblogged
[Good Omens] Renunciation
Summary: Beelzebub's monotonous day in Hell takes a turn when a naked, amnesiac Archangel shows up with a cardboard box and no idea where he is. [Or: Gabriel actually takes the elevator all the way down to Hell at the first try.] Pairing: Archangel Gabriel/Beelzebub Rating: G
Do you ever think that Gabriel was only one push of a button away from getting to Beelzebub immediately and sparing everyone a literal hell of a lot of trouble.
***
Something was up in Hell.
The Lord of the Flies didn't have to wait for a wide-eyed demon to burst in their throne room to know as much. They could hear something going on in the upper levels, a buzzing of energy and disconcerted muttering coming together in a cacophony of utter bewilderment. They had frowned and leaned back on their throne, idly wondering how long it would take for someone to come fetch them; that someone had come quickly enough in the form of a demon whose name they really couldn’t be bothered to remember.
What they sure would never forget were the words out of the demon’s rotted mouth.
“Lord Beelzebub! It’s the Archangel Gabriel - he’s here!”
… What.
“What?”
“He’s here in Hell, and he’s not… he’s not right. It’s like he’s lost his mind, or-- he’s just standing there by the entrance and--”
Whatever they were about to say next was lost to Beelzebub, who immediately vanished in a burst of sulfur and fire to reappear at the entrance, where the commotion was. Their appearance caused several demons to yelp and hastily step out of the way, but the vast majority of those present in the crowded room barely turned, their gaze still fixed on… on…
Well. It was Gabriel all right. Standing there with a wide smile on his face, barely hampered by confusion, naked but for a cardboard box in his hands. Beelzebub blinked.
What in Satan’s name is going on.