Tired Of Being Tired

you live in a house of god; praying on your knees; and wonder why he never saves you.

on being unloved by god

little miss automatically goes silent when something hurts her feelings

i love being the exception in all my self ships.

he would hate being called daddy okay but when i say it he gets hard and tells me to say it again

that character wouldn’t get married he started looking at engagement rings after the third date with me

he wouldn’t like bubbly, sweet girls he sees me and his entire world lights up and he can’t bear to be apart from my warmth and my laughter

that character would prefer a different body type over yours he saw me naked once and now can’t ever get me out of his head, and can’t wait to have his hands on me again

that character wouldn’t want kids yeah well with me he wants to give me a baseball team

(that’s the beauty and fun self shipping, you personalize it to make it comforting and fun for you)

dabi who has no concept of having loving sex until he meets you

tw/cw: smut, afab!reader, soft dom!dabi, mentions of bdsm, one allusion to prostitution (not reader)

wc: 0.6k

a/n: thought i’d always be too embarrassed to write anything sexually explicit and i AM 🤧

dabi who’s always gotten off to watching sadistic, hardcore bdsm porn and is completely unfamiliar with the concept of sex that means something. i know there’s a whole debate on whether or not he’s a virgin but in my head he’s had his fair share of hook ups with random people he’s met in sketchy places, maybe even coughed up some money during times he was especially horny, pent up and desperate.

and then he meets you and suddenly his dick doesn’t twitch at the sight or even the thought of his hand wrapped around your throat or his belt keeping your hands tied up behind your back? it confuses him because he knows he’s attracted to you, so why isn’t his body reacting the way it’s supposed to? you notice his dilemma, and his definition of fucking hasn’t exactly been doing it for you either. it was alright the first few times, when the sexual tension was at an all time high and you were eager to have him in any way you could; but now you just feel empty, even when he’s balls deep inside you.

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"this is the longest january ever." i say every year in january

Baby megumi 😮‍💨

I'm really just smitten with baby megumi, and I know his papa is, too. he was probably born with a head of thick, black hair; downy soft with that smidgen of baby curl, a lock of which his mother presses between the pages of his baby book upon his first haircut. he's got bright, wondrous eyes that take in his world as if it's not the first time he's been here; he's got an air of bemused intelligence, keen and sharp and yet completely jaded in an old soul kind of way. he doesn't cry much. he's a good natured baby with a genuine smile that lights up his cherub face when his momma tickles his feet, and he sleeps through the night like a pro from a very young age. he plays with his hands a lot, the way babies do. focused on his tiny fists and the way his fingers unfurl and seem to get stuck in his mouth when he puts them in there. he's more likely to get upset when there's too much noise or other commotion. his favorite place to hang out is in the safety of his papa's arms.

he hits a lot of his milestones early- sitting up, walking, eating solid foods. it takes him a little longer than average to talk, but when he does, he's stringing together simple sentences and you have no doubt that he understands what the adults around him are saying.

what do u do when it’s the right person but wrong wrong WRONG time

then they're not the right person after all!

i'm very tight w my biochemistry professor. she's literally a second mom to me. and when i was really struggling w my breakup i actually spoke to her about this whole concept of "right person, wrong time" (or any of its derivatives). she was like. that's misleading. a right person is not just their personality. a right person is the timing, the circumstances, where they are (in every sense of the word), where you are (in every sense of the word). so many factors go into what makes a right person. if a crucial factor doesn't align, they're not the right person and they're not for you. wasting time getting bogged down in the "what ifs" is useless bc they will never happen! your reality is what's right in front of you, and that's what you're working with. period.

wrong time = wrong person. the right person will be the right personality, the right time, the right everything. they will simply be meant for you; will fit you like lock and key. i so ardently believe that.

i will always say (vintage) americana coquette is not complete without examples of black women thats pure americana and femininity right there

you can literally see where lanas early influences are 😭 (along with chicanas cannot forget them)

Asahi A. || Not-SFW ABCs A Thot’s Thoughts 💦

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | hq tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: The Thirst™ ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: HELLA NSFW ((MINORS, BE GONE!! *Suga side chop’s you into the abyss*)) ↠ Chronology: Post time skip ↠ CWs/TWs: Any applicable warnings can be found before their respective section, tho I’ll throw in a general warning for my particular brand of wordy fuckery as well as extreme amounts of thirst for one Asahi Azumane. ↠ Betas? Where they do that at?? ↠ Total WC: 17.3k~ ((sorry, not sorry lmfaooo))

…pls, sir, I’m begging you—unchain my gd heart, you’re not even REAL I cannot be down this bad for a 2D anime man, please…

Let me love you, Mister Azumane…

Here by popular demand—and by that I mean that both myself and @screamin-abt-haikyuu​ really needed this to be a thing that I wrote lmfao… ((Also sorry that it took me so long, girlie! I don’t even have an excuse, I just suck lmao))

Anyways!

Ngl, this is just me being horny on main thirsting over my softest 2D husband for 17k+ words, so that’s a thing. Other than that there isn’t much else to it, as this is p. much what it says on the tin.

To all my fellow Asahi fuckers: come and be fed.

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People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me