For The DA Poets

I have always been a lot like my father. I have his hair, his face, his taste in music, his last name, some of his old jackets and shirts. I’ve often hated that I’m so much like him, as the only thing I don’t and will never have from him is his support. Now, however, I carry pocket watches and work towards education, a feat he never achieved. I do not use his last name, he doesn’t deserve the credit of my success. His music I’ve integrated along with violins and melodies that his rough and tough demeanors would never fit into. His clothing and jackets are reserved for when I make art, the paint that is left on the shirts show how I can make beautiful things as opposed to the blood that had previously stained them when he got into fights. I am very much like my father, but never will he be like me.

trans masculinity, when u have a shitty father, is abt taking pieces of him for yrself & reclaiming it & turning those things delicate & caring in ways he could never, ways that would disgust him. in his hand-me-down jacket, i carry bandages. the knife he used to skin deer is now the knife i use to sections apples to share with my brother

I painted a mirror. An eye for an eye, friends.

Start of chapter two, Sins of the flesh.

Link to Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1233104183-sins-of-the-flesh-chapter-2-newcomer Link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38974686/chapters/98769999#workskin --- Dean gasped awake, chest heaving as he drew in panicked breaths and gripped at the bedsheets, the adrenaline in his veins and anxiety slowly fading the longer he breathed in sweet, sweet oxygen.

The nightmares were horrible, always of the same grotesque beings, the demons, werewolves, wraiths and other monstrosities his father would fight off when he was a child.

The images and fights Dean himself had fought against them were always present in the back of his mind during his waking life, reminding him that he was living on borrowed time and that nothing was ever permanent; these thoughts only became more prominent when he was asleep as he did not have much control over what his own mind created. “Sonova bitch…” Dean muttered, letting out a relieved breath, relieved to have finally escaped the dream; he had been allowed to remove his blindfold when fighting these beings to ensure that he wouldn’t get too injured, but some days he wished he hadn’t seen anything.

Dean reached over to his bedside table for his braille watch, the cool metal and leather strap coming into contact with Dean’s hand as he did so. He had, of course, learnt to read braille at a young age simply to make his life easier due to the blindfold, and as a result, his father had bought him the watch on his thirteenth birthday, but Dean somewhat believed he only did that so he would stop asking what time it was every half hour.

To his dismay, it was only around three am, which aggravated Dean to no end; it was a Saturday, so he didn’t have to be up early and he had only gone to sleep three hours ago. Thoroughly disgruntled, Dean placed his watch back on his side table and yanked the sheets back up to his chin, rolling onto his side in an attempt to get comfortable. Despite his greatest efforts, the dream had shaken him too much for him to feel even a pang of sleepiness.

After nearly an hour of tossing and turning, Dean kicked his sheets off in frustration, slipped out of his bed and located his fluffy robe, tying the string around his abdomen as he walked. The house was mostly silent, nothing but the sound of the wind howling outside and the near-silent creaking of the old home; an eerie feeling hung in the air, the feeling of being careful watches unnerving Dean to the core, though he tried to ignore it as he made his way through the house.

The man allowed himself to simply wander through the house, not bothering much to do anything but trace his fingers over the walls and the picture frames hung up them; he had never seen what was in the picture frames, but he hoped one day he might. He remembered his father often having him and Sammy pose and stand for pictures, but Dean had never seen a single one of them; he wondered if somewhere in the house, there might be a photo of his mother... Continued on Wattpad and Ao3!

Yesss, finally the proper representation for Donnie!!

Watch "Donnie (Rise of the TMNT) | Autism Representation in Media" on YouTube

We're finally talking about autistic ninja turtles.

...I think this was on my bucket list ten years ago.

Yessssss I love him, look at this beautiful art, at this beautiful manz Look at him

Inventory check: Seth

This is just a small glimpse at some of the things he carries around. He has a secondary bag for other items. (And i got too lazy to draw anything else lol)

EPIC RAP BATTLES OF HISTORYYYYYYYYY

I love all of these outfits, they’re beautiful and they really did an amazing job!!

Ranboo fashion

Ranbow.

Everyone must see the cozy cat boy Virgil.

Catboy!Virgil surrounded by every pillow/plushie etc. in existence. Just a cozy boy in bed.

He's so cozy.

If you like, please reblog. <3

Self-introductory

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[Scorpio sun] - [Libra moon] - [Scorpio rising]

[He/him | FTM] - [INTJ] - [Slytherin] - [Autumn] - [Workaholic]

[Writing two books] - [Writes fanfic on the side] - [drinks too much coffee because of it]

My favourite books: 

The blackthorn key series by Kevin Sands

Sherlock Holmes series by Sir.Arthur Conan Doyle

Harry Potter Series (f-ck you J.K.Rowling)

Educated by Tara Westover

The hidden witch by Chandelle LaVaun

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin

Favourite shows/movies:

The Good Doctor

Sherlock

Criminal Minds

The Big Bang Theory - Young Sheldon

The Imitation game

Supernatural

Ghost Adventures

My blog will mostly be shit posts, information about my characters and books, book recommendations, playlists, and the occasional dark academia mood board. This is a safe space for everyone, unless you disrespect someone’s existence, then you are certainly not welcome.

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