I Need Validation - Tumblr Posts

@maopll @venusandsaturnsrings @yandere-daydreams @blackopals-world hey! I admire your writing work and fic on tumblr. I wrote this piece for a literature assignment not too long ago so I wanna know what you think as more active authors.

236,000 humans drowned this year. Do you mourn one? … I mourn all.

I’m responsible, named on the grave, cause of death: The harsh of the wave.

Is Poseidon to blame? No, it’s his wife! Amphitrite! Take note! This water is called she!

For millennia those men brave our rouges and our storms.

Millions lost yet billions borne.

Rán trawls her net over their boat thus yanking them into their final bed of rock and sand.

Ganga and Marina cry, their tears; typhoons

Eingana watches with mixed expression as she sees all her creation fight forces they can’t understand.

Mazu protects what’s hers, leaving the sanctity of her lagoon to do so.

Praised for beauty and poetry yet feared for the fact we she are of the few things one can’t command.

Those dead in deep water can’t be found.

The ocean leaves no trace, nor nothing that can save its face.

Families left, no peace for ones gone, unable to rest, it lingers in minds, a burden one cannot heal.

A wish to not be helpless, nights spent under the waves accompanied only by fish.

Over time it was a slaughter, bodies lost, souls gone, left to the sea.

What do they feel? The grains of sand or the teeth of a fish, The scales of an eel?

A body of death becomes a feature of new life.

A reef on the bones of the deceased.

The creatures do not know or care, It’s home now.

Their Thieves of remains, they desecrate the dead yet provide them purpose.

Perhaps they deserved to die? Men are not sinless creatures after all.

Especially considering how they treat us, isn’t that right Magwayen? they treat us with more than just spite!

How can they assume us to be kind when for centuries they’ve used us?

Sending fleet after fleet onto our surface and tipping their waist into our swash!

They have no right to treat us this way when the tears we cry are of the same pain

They doom our icecaps we so graciously froze just so they could come to fruition, I refuse to accept this!

How half of them refuse to take the blame while others drown

How they make shallow promises of prevention and change

yet you find those same mouths wet by lies of the above line

And those sinking cry why!

Hypocrites! all of them!

Notice how they call their most powerful, important, and feared things she!

Yet they call upon the husbands for safe passage through OUR waters!

They boast their achievements of deep-found treasure, but they turn coy at the mention of how they got there!

People are left to rot when the stem of their problems is of their own kind.

The lot of them are savage! Acting as gods pretending as if they too are not animals.

Everything in the universe is made from the same dust, and yet the humans audaciously claim they are of the most importance!

People beg us for mercy, to save them from their self-inflicted fate

They do this so much so, they forget they are the ones to blame!

We should send our rain and waves to condemn all for their ignorance!

Humans call the ocean treacherous and harsh! The foam of the waves is a sign of rough sea!

We will send raging storms, floods, tsunamis and even cause droughts!

All to make them fear us and come to terms with the fact they are ultimately powerless in the face of Mother Nature!

Mother! Not father! We will prevail in the face of man. We will leave them no time to even attend to the damage!

We will cull those who seek to conquer our home and make all who come after fear us!

Caging them inside a trap-like purgatory

They deserve it for all they’ve done to us!

The end of men! We will bring forth a matriarchy like no other!

No longer will we desire for respect and fame

Sing in Joy for the day of our redemption has come!

Is anyone here interested in shitty Cosplays? Should I plug my Cosplay insta?

I spent so long on this pls someone listen to it and tell me I’m funny my rejection sensitivity is acting up /hj

wake up babe new slut-shaming inner monologue remix just dropped.

“Hey Brad. Did you dry the towels on high heat again?”

Chris fell silent.

This was the part where Brad chimed in to tell Chris it wasn’t the towel that shrank. It was his massive muscles that were growing.

Wha?!? Oh come on people. We can validate parking, why not ourselves?

Teaser: From my WIP Losers... Connor Murphy x Original Character ( from Chapter 4 / The joke or the friend )

Word count: 375

Edited?: No :(

Author's note: Hey! This is a sneak peak (maybe a long one) to my current wip, an alternate universe with a Connor x fem!OC dynamic.

-----------------------------------------

"Why'd you do that?" Connor asked. His voice sounded like something between anger and nervousness "Now they'll think—"

"I don't give a fuck what they'll think" Dakota shrugged "Hopefully Jared would start thinking twice, or at least once, before he talks…"

He snapped a bit, holding back his lashing out "Why don't you care about them calling you a freak?"

"Because I know I'm not," she simply said. Dakota shrugged again "And you aren't one either"

Connor's laugh was bitter and cruel, even a bit hurtful "You don't know shit about me"

"I guess you're right. But I want to"

"What? Yeah, right" Connor made an attempt to get up in order to leave, but suddenly stopped when he felt Dakota's hand on his shoulder as she said something he didn't catch, too busy on freaking out "Don't fucking touch me"

Dakota immediately took her hand out of his shoulder "Sorry, I shouldn't have— But I'm serious, Connor, you look like a cool person"

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Connor wasn't shouting, but his voice raised "The joke is over now, okay? You can stop pretending like you care and I'll stop giving problems to you by being near you. So—"

"Goddamnit, Connor, it's no joke" scoffed Dakota, kind of desperate for him to believe her. Connor was surprised by how her voice resembled a whiplash "God, they've fucked you up so badly. Someone getting close to you doesn't mean they're going to pull some sick on you, okay?"

Dakota saw how he hesitated, like he couldn't really believe her at the very moment, it was the shimmering, shy glow of his eyes that let her know he was doubting. It was almost tragic how damaged Connor seemed to be. No one deserves this. He looked so scared it was almost hurting Dakota, but still he managed to hide it with his tough, scary facade. Connor Murphy was doomed to be a tragedy. 

"Whatever" Connor finally mumbled, but his body stopped tensing when Dakota cracked a smile, a genuine one.

She couldn't be lying so much, could she? Dakota needed to be telling the truth. Connor needed her to be telling the truth, because he was in dire need of a friend.

The day I grew up

I remember the exact day I grew.

It was my 11th birthday, I had pink streaks and a full face beat.

I was ready to rule the world

I thought I was so grown, so mature

I thought “this is the best it gets”

I thought I was ready to rule the world because I was ready to go bowling

in a shitty 2-star bowling alley

But then I grew.

I thought “I can do anything”

The day I started Highschool.

Highschool was a breeze compared to the next scene.

I became so confident, so secure

So secure that I thought “I’ve reached my peak”

But then I grew

And my peak was sanded down the moment exams came around.

I thought “this is the worst it gets”

But then I grew.

I remember

I thought I was so mature the night of my first sleepover.

I didn’t bring a teddy bear

or call my mum after a while.

I thought I was so independent, so capable

But then I grew.

And I realised I loved my teddy bear

and I needed my mum at every hour.

I feel I haven’t grown at all.

I’m the same I was but is that bad or good?

The day I realised I was still a seed,

I cried and cried and thought

“This is the worst it gets”

But then I grew.

I realised a seed has potential and life long journey ahead.

How can I cut it down when it hasn’t even sprout?

Yes it may be “the worst” right now but wait a min, slow down.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[an original by me]

Friendly Reminder: Do All The "Childish" Things you want

The fear of being childish is, in itself a childish fear that we can and must learn to outgrow. If you like something targeted for kids, that is okay. Just because you're an adult doesn't mean you forget how to be a kid.

So buy gel pens and and glitter glue and construction paper. You don't have to be in elementary school to do little art projects with crayons or finger paint or wavy scissors, adults need self expression just as much as kids if not more.

Watch cartoons. Put stickers on your wall and your phone and your ceiling. Decorate your driveway with sidewalk chalk. Eat Gushers and Gogurt and drink chocolate milk. Sleep with stuffed animals and pillow pets if it's comforting. Want a little doll with tiny assets and bendable joints just to see how many poses you can put it in? Do it. Do it all.

(Image credit)

Someone pls tell me they like the new theme...

(Close up of the new avatar too)

Someone pls tell me they like the new theme...

(Close up of the new avatar too)

Someone pls tell me they like the new theme...

(Close up of the new avatar too)

What is the difference between a three leaf clover and a four leaf clover?

Is the four leaf only special because of the rarity?

Why so people take the three leaf clover for granted?

Because it's always there?

Because of the amount you can find?

What makes the four-leaf clover special compared to the three-leaf clover?

(This is not about clovers)

What is the difference between a three leaf clover and a four leaf clover?

Is the four leaf only special because of the rarity?

Why so people take the three leaf clover for granted?

Because it's always there?

Because of the amount you can find?

What makes the four-leaf clover special compared to the three-leaf clover?

(This is not about clovers)

What is the difference between a three leaf clover and a four leaf clover?

Is the four leaf only special because of the rarity?

Why so people take the three leaf clover for granted?

Because it's always there?

Because of the amount you can find?

What makes the four-leaf clover special compared to the three-leaf clover?

(This is not about clovers)

(via "Pastel Holographic Watercolor Sticker: Accepting Disgust, Embracing Emotional Authenticity" Magnet for Sale by Queueka)

(via "Pastel Holographic Watercolor Sticker: Validating Fear, Normalizing Emotion" Magnet for Sale by Queueka)

Elaborating

So they fought a war together of course in s6 so you would think they would be best buds, right? Wrong! I watched the whole of grian's and Joe's s7 and s8 and the only time they mention each other is in the s7 election for dog catcher. That's it. Its all there is. So i was thinking, mmmmmm how can i put this into a very detailed lore essay so i can thrive off of angst?

So i realised, as you know, Grian is a menace, known for doing pranks and traps and bothering hermits on his free time. But if you think about it so is Joe. This is like the moon and the dark side of the moon. They are not two sides of the same coin, that would indicate different directions, they are, as i found the perfect analogy, polar opposite magnets. The ones that stick to each other so easily, but this magnus are doing everything to repel each other. Does this make sense?

Its like their whole existence is so excluded of each other that its like they become even closer.

They both had their personal pet shulker duplicate by mistake IN THE SAME SEASON and they arent single parent besties. Grian stared directly at the floating squids in Joe's shop for 15 seconds recently and didn't drop his name. A kid can watch all of grian's s8 and s9 and have no idea joe hills is a hermit. Joe has spent like 10 streams hunting squid for dye and going "yeah i know stress has a squid farm but she says it's slower than hunting them" but Grian's episode 19 shows him opening his squid farm chest to show it almost full of ink. "no guys, impulse selling wither roses was a one time deal i think, i cant just buy a bunch off of him to make the dye i need." Joe hills??? Grian spent ages hunting down a mangrove swamp to catch his own tadpole but joe has been selling tadpoles for months. Grian?????

I bet joe just decided the turf war was beneath him because he cares far more about the shopping district having roads than about what block the ground is. Joe enjoys hunting squids because sometimes you just want a mindless activity. Grian had never interacted with frogs before and wanted to go get one himself for fun.

But the content and

Paim

That would bring on an angst fanfic is soooo good. Just imagine, after war, bated and bruised, they leave, see each other flash in the corner of their eye only to turn around and it be nothing. Ah my sweet heart!!

Joe hills and Grian are total magnet opposites of each other and im tired of pretending i dont have a very extensive opinion on that

If anyone reads this i will 100% elaborate

Voice like a drum, love like a melody

🍂A Baggenshield angst word vomit because I love them🪨

⚠️Warning⚠️

The Hobbit Spoilers and Major Character Death

Word Count: 1407

I have never said I am a perfect man. Polite to a fault, kind as often as I can, truthful when it exists out of the realm of my greed. I am not perfect, and I am well aware of many of my shortcomings as they have made themselves evident over the course of my life.

When I was just a young thing, my father caught me scruffing with a wild fox over a branch neither of us had ever seen before. We had no claim over it, we laid eyes on it at roughly the same time. And yet, we both believed we had a divine right to this dead appendage of a birch tree. My yelling alerted my father, a slender man with a larger brain than anyone. That fact nearly made up for his lack of labor ability. And yet, the fox and I were tired enough that he was able to pry us apart. We must’ve been exhausted, for my father lost the strength to carry me a few months before. I was furious with him for letting the fox get away, and he held me still from squirming. He asked me if I needed the stick. Although I yelled that I did, he knew there was no true reason as I couldn’t give him one. It was then he realized that my greediness of youth would likely follow me to my older years. So, he gave me a rule to hopefully quell or confine it.

“Never take someone else’s need for your wants.” He shook me and let me fall onto the dirty, thornful forest floor and that was the end of the discussion.

And I have followed this advice as often as the opportunity has presented itself. For this reason, I have held myself with the title of a humble man for a long time. I acknowledge that once a humble man announces this, he will lose said title. And, yet, I continue. Because I lost my humility two years ago. I have spent the last two years trying to rope it back to me, but it has eluded me. Finally, with the encouragement of memories of friends eating away at my mind, I have caved and will finally describe this moment in pen, in hopes that doing so will allow it to cease being described behind my eyes every waking moment; even further into my dreams.

He had a voice like the banging of a drum, deep and rolling as the ocean. For the longest time I felt as though love was the wrong word. It was more comfort than love, like a warm bath. He wore dark furs that covered him like scales cover a dragon or a vault covers a treasure. He strode with urgency, commanded with the bravery of a general, gazed at others with rarely a hint of kindness.

When trying to understand him, one must first understand the true language he spoke. His truest of intentions were not found in common or dwarvish, his face or his hands; but his eyes, oh, they held so much. They would stare at me so intensely across the campsite, I would think he was scolding me like an enemy. They would follow my every move, ready to sneer. If eyes could have killed back then, I would have been dead for decades by now.

Every step I took, I seemed to want his approval more and more. Like a river carving a mountain, slowly but surely I was adamant to convince him of one thing and one thing alone; that I deserved to be there. Among warriors and kings and the wisest of our time, I was just a humble hobbit who longed to be right and thirsted for a story to tell.

I quickly found that the task I had set for myself was impossible. There was nothing I could do for Thorin’s favor that would grant me it. The reason was very simple: It is impossible to convince someone of something that you yourself do not believe in.

This changed after our run in with the Orcs of the underground and our skirmish with the Living Mountain. Made to fend for myself after being separated from the group, I will say I even impressed myself with how I managed to escape. (However, my dear reader, that is a tale for another day.) In that moment, I felt surer than anything that I had proven myself. And that is when it began.

I began to see the sun reflect in his eyes, and began to see that he softened ever so slightly when he laid eyes on me. I saw that he began to really, truly see me; and I, him. On such a cold, treacherous journey, with so much left lying ahead of us, eye contact and conversations that felt like a spring afternoon were more than welcome. So, we hid during the day and shone like the sun at night, watching each other like how mortals watch stars.

We orbited one another like spinning magnets, like turning planets. It felt otherworldly, the admiration I could see him hold for me. Running from wargs and resting in glades blurred all the same, an underlying delight lightened everything. Suddenly, the room stopped when I opened my mouth. The world was brighter, laughter was louder, even anger didn’t last as long nor as bad.

I belonged among kings and warriors and wise ones. Not only because I was coming into my own, but also because I was now able to see that all these people of legends were also vulnerable and gay and excitable; and just like me.

Now, my dear reader, I am sure you are wondering when I lost my humility. I have been selfish in this writing, omitting what you are truly here for. For that, I apologize. But, please offer some sympathy to an old man, cursed to remember his life in a better light than it had truly ever shown. Over these many years I have found that the sun will never shine brighter than in a memory. But, I have held you in suspense long enough.

It was the battle of the five armies. Around me was chaos and bloodshed and fear and death. Something had been rifted between Thorin and I, about the arkenstone. A sickness had come over him, like how a dragon covers his treasure. The clouds blotted out the sun in his eyes, moving too erratically to reflect the love I once knew. Love still feels odd to say. But, it is the truth.

I hate to admit it, but I was embarrassed to have missed the entire battle. I was rendered unconscious quickly into the clash, and I woke up too late. I once confided in Balin and he asked what I thought I was late for. My chest ached and my eyes darted and he knew.

I was late to reach Thorin. Too late to protect him. Too late to call for a healer or take the blow instead. The nasty, nasty wound, killing my one love. My spring, my sun, my warmth. I threw myself over him, hands trembling and voice refusing to be used.

He grasped my arm like a vice and looked at me like a star. My mountain, my rock, he was slowly drifting away. His sturdy voice was telling me what we both knew, and then he was pulling me closer.

As the lips I had longed after for so long touched me so tenderly, as I finally reached the end of my journey to reach him, I could so keenly feel the cold of the world around me eating at my skin. I could hear every slash and clang of combat. He was kissing me with such a need.

And I was too late to kiss back with my want. By the time I returned the kiss, his lips were becoming as cold as the snow and his body went limp like a pile of rocks. And I lost him.

I am not a humble man. Friends I forged in the fire of danger, I left behind. I am selfish. I left his memory, his legacy, his love behind. Every night I laid in bed, trying to forget that Thorin died not knowing that I, Bilbo Baggens, man of so many faults and so much love, had kissed him back.

Hey btw I have a 3 and a half hour long playlist for Donna just so you know, no pressure

no but seriously, I know I’ve reblogged this before, but my submissions are always extra open for audio recordings (like legit pleeease beautiful people of any gender, there’s nothing more rewarding than hearing someone moan for me) and if I get off to it I’ll likely send you something back (genuinely, please send voice notes I’m begging, and especially if you get off to me like 😵‍💫, audio porn is my kinda porn for sure)

Can you send me an audio of you cumming? Sorry audios of you moaning? Ssorry audios of you cum-—-? Shit i mean audios of you cumming- shitttt