#PLEASE COME BACK SAFELY!!!

[coolwhipdinosaur]

Antis: why won't proshippers leave us alone?

Proshippers: *blocks antis to not break dnis, often posts only in proship friendly tags/places*

Antis: how dare you ignore us and our "valid" arguments! *sends death threats, rape threats, crosstags, invades tags*

[prismaticsaltedink]

Scoria and Sakura are best friends! It's so cute when I see the things they do together, and it makes me so beyond happy that they both came to live with me so that they could share their lives with each other. They absolutely insist on it, and does so much good for the other.

I can't imagine how else they could have found happiness if things hadn't worked out exactly as they did. Scoria has basically been Sakura's "emotional support snake" while she worked through things from her past I'll never fully know that caused her a lot of issues with panic and fear. Sakura knows this too, and looks out for her sister, the only one she truly trusts and feels completely safe with.

The moment they wake up they both want each other to snuggle and play with. Scoria loves to be affectionate with both me and her sister who seems to have not had this earlier in her life- but Scoria is showing her how nice it is not only directly but demonstrating with me and Sakura also trying, copying what she has seen her sister do.

Sometimes when one goes to check on the other they'll join in on... I'm not even sure what they were doing. But they had a good time while taking a mandated union break from digging tunnels for the isopods.

So happy I get to share in the adventures of these two best friends! It makes me so happy to see them living their best lives together, and being beyond content snuggled together with their found family.

[fangirlforeversthings]

Where is cody?

Is he safe?

Is he alright?

I gotta know!!

[s0fter-sin]

ghost stares at the ceiling, chest heaving in a harsh pant; sweat ice on his clammy flesh and soaked into the sheet he restlessly kicks away.

ears still ringing, his fingertips blindly drift down to trail along his vivisection scar. he half-expects blood to smear in their wake. his own line of solomon, who ordered him split in twain; half of him given to a grieving mother and half left with the grieving to be.

just for both his broken halves to be rejected.

what did it make him that his mother grieved him more than she loved him? that she begged to be relieved of him more adamantly than she begged to receive him? why did his worth spill out with his drawn blood? why was his pain lesser than hers?

his hand flexes, digging into the raised scar like it’ll part beneath his fingertips to plunge into his mangled insides. no one knows the cruelty of reforming the halved; his name, his being, not nearly as important as his body when he was stripped from himself. no one knows the pain of healing and understanding losing pieces of yourself means losing your value along with them.

how many more pieces did he have to lose before he was halved once more? before his very presence incurred grief so strong it was better to be rid of him than cradle his bloodied remains?

did the infant fight himself? did he age always at odds with himself; his halves never truly whole? he hopes he wasn’t, that he was spared the loss of self; the fear that one may be welcomed over the other.

who will he lose when the inevitable comes? when he’s ripped apart again? simon? or ghost? is it better to be cursed with choice just like his mother or live with an aftermath chosen for him? does it matter if in the end, he convinces himself there was nothing of him left to lose?

his head lolls to the side and the wild buck of his chest slows. he watches johnny beside him, his face lax with the rare peace of sleep; his cheek squished against the pillow, his lips pursed as long breaths escape him.

johnny. soap. never torn asunder but two all the same.

he carefully reaches out and ghosts his fingers along the jagged scar on his chin. even in sleep, he presses into his bloodied touch. he’s never fled his half-flesh, never shies away from his gore as it spills unbidden from his cleaved torso. he holds on where his mother let him go; cups his stomach to hold his insides in place and never minds the blood that drips through his fingers.

simon will never let him become his own solomon and cannibalise himself. he will never let him question which half of him has more value; which pieces he can afford to lose before he’s cast aside.

ghost’s soap. simon’s johnny. his.

whole, in any incarnation.

[gh0st-4ss]

God loves you, but not enough to save you

[sinnbaddie]

To say that Kakashi and Gai’s relationship (talking solely platonic rn) was mostly about him helping Kakashi cope with the loss of Obito is disingenuous to Kakashi and all of his relationships.

Any person is going to be traumatized after seeing someone — much less their teammate — be crushed to death under a rock. Kakashi is shown to be someone susceptible to depression due to 1. His environment 2. His initial beliefs and 3. His genetic line. Of course his life is going to be centered around one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, romanticizing it is so hurtful to his character because it destroyed him - and if Kishimoto actually cared about expanding other character relationships instead of making a “generational duo that falls apart” + wasn’t a misogynistic writer, Rin’s death would be the bigger influence on his life than Obito’s.

Yes, Gai had to help him numerous times in his grief but it wasn’t solely or even mainly about Obito. Rin was an absolute vital point in Kakashi’s downfall into chaos. The self harm he inflicted upon himself, the self hatred, the self shame. He became a whole different person after he was forced to kill her. I would say Kakashi’s father Sakumo is by far the biggest influence on him. He wouldn’t have needed any speech of “your father was a hero” by Obito if it wasn’t for Sakumo. His personality of today is thanks to his father’s own death.

Gai and Kakashi’s friendship is almost entirely about them when they’re in scenes together. Look at the chunin exams, look at any scene in the land of steam arc, look at their race, etc. naturally there will be grief the two bring to the relationship and it’s on them to work it out separately, together and with other people which did happen.

You’re actively ignoring every other character that has shaped and formed who Kakashi is by saying Obito is the biggest and only reason he is who he is. Gai is one of the strongest reasons why Kakashi is as motivated and strong as he is. Kakashi would’ve absolutely died at some point in (general) anbu if Gai didn’t pull him out and he was slipping so far when he was in it because of Rin and Minato.

Kakashi’s heart does not “belong” to Obito because he’s in love with Obito and can’t get over him, his heart belongs to the people he loves because that’s who Kakashi is at his core - a lover. He’s a person who cares so deeply, even for people he doesn’t necessarily like or get along with.

Kakashi is a person who is shaped by everybody in his life, that’s why he is one of the best written Naruto characters. He feels like a real person because real people are influenced by everyone in their life, in every way. It’s unfortunate to see those who call themselves Kakashi fans only to mischaracterize, limit and erase the bonds he was written to have to prop up one single bond for your ship.

Do you care for this character? His themes, parallels, relationships and writing? or is he just a placeholder / self insert for shipping content?

[sallymew4]

kids when they hear that their dad is back in town VS. kids when theyre hanging out with a conman that accidentally stole their wallet once

im not even joking btw

bonus heres me being crazy about them in dms ^^^

[zombieplaguedoc]

Your f/o(s) would 100% be there for you when you're overwhelmed/underwhelmed or overstimulated/understimulated.

they know you can't deal with sudden loud noises, crowds, small places or that you need extra stimulation in certain times

when they notice you starting to get upset, anxious, they'll lead you outside, without gathering attention, to where it's quiet and help you decompress

they'll stay near you, letting you stim the anxiety out without any judgement and help you keep yourself at bay

if you go nonverbal / non speaking when your overwhelmed/stimulation; they'll use sign language in your native language that you taught them, text you, let you write your words down. Or if you don't want to talk, they'll leave it alone and let you take your time until you feel comfortable enough to come back to them.

Your f/o(s) would keep extra gadgets on them, stim toys, maybe on their land yard or keys incase they need to give you one when you need stimulation or need to stim

they would never treat you like a child for it. they know your boundaries, they know how you like to be comforted. They know this is how you cope, how you deal with your struggles, they know you can't control it. They just want to help :)

Antis fuck off, this post isn't for you

[sulky-cabbage]

AU: Where Sukuna Wins

Part 1

Part 2 here

Imagine an alternate universe in which Sukuna triumphs, dominates over Japan, and endures a lonely existence for many centuries, while allowing some humans to live.

They hold a grudge against him, of course, and want to kill him. They train at Jujutsu High and have some great fighters that occasionally provide Sukuna with some entertainment. 

They are so desperate for salvation, they can only find solace in prophecies about a figure with powerful blue eyes that will defeat the king of curses and rescue Japan.

And do you know what Sukuna does in response to that? One might expect him to go full Pharoah mode and kill newborns, but NO!!

HE DOES THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE !!

Whenever he ravages a village and devours the women and children, he ALWAYS spares the blue-eyed infants.

All the curses know better than to kill an infant with blue eyes. The last time a curse did that, Sukuna made sure to make an example of it.

Killing a member of the Gojo clan is also off limits, as well as anything that could delay the reincarnation of this certain person.

These humans are not the only ones waiting for salvation.

Sukuna is also WAITING...for his wretched existence to end at the hands of this person.

The ONLY one worthy of having the honor to do so.

[lotus-pear]

when are u gonna show me my children you’ve been teasing me for like a week 😞😞😢😢

singular (child) actually....i couldn't figure out how to draw vals hair bc im dumb as rocks,,,,,,,anyway take sam for now he's my beloved son as well my angel

[camellcat]

stray thought but why didn’t they just let giles die in spiral? like... other than make buffy miserable what does he even do in the later seasons? I feel like it would've been better to just let him go out on a good note than waste away as a character

[tapiokauwu]

In the end I was the temporary option, I had no value for you and now that you've found someone better you're leaving me behind.

You lied like everyone else did.

Please, come back.

[emmyrosee]

okay......

let me just say this-

sukuna is the type of person to eat your snack right in front of you and when you accuse him-

he'll just stare at you with a dumbfound look and say in the innocent voice ever possible "iT wasN't mE??? PrObaBly thAt mutT of a dOg-"

while literal crumbs and remnants of the snack litter his face as you give him a 'bitch what the fuck' look😭

and he probably steals your blanket while your sleeping and hogs your side of the bed LMFAO-

idk that's Sukuna to me if he turned kinda nice, kinda learned the word 'manners' and was born in our era yk-

I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE THIS WITH AND SUKUNA IS IN MY MIND 24/7

MAN DIDNT PAY RENT-

HE DOESNT EXPECT IT YK

(I'm way too feral for him💀)

aNYWAYS-

SOOOOOOOO THE SUKUNA PEICE IS COMING SOON YOU SAY???

can you tag me when its released🥺

OKAY YEAH THATS IT-

BYE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, YOU ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOUR WORK AND ALSO THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS ON THE BLOG RECOMMENDATIONS-

AND ANOTHER ALSO-

drink water✨

(that's it now sorry for galloping into your inbox♡)

GOD SNACK STEALING SUKUNA IS MY BF I CANNOT DO THIS-

And he’s the type to, when you try to grab it back, reach his arm up and out of your reach, smirking as you huff and try to jump up and reach for it to no avail.

“Say you’re sorry and maybe I’ll let you have a bite.”

“SORRY YOURE STEALING MY CHIPS?!”

“Sorry for accusing me of such childish things!”

As if there’s not a ring of cheese dust littering his face.

He just. JDJDJDNDOSEN he’s the literal worst in the anime but I neeeeed him to be just so obnoxious as a boyfriend, like he’s mean and he’s cold and he doesn’t like you even though he loves to hold you at night, but he’s still a sucker nonetheless; and if that’s wrong, I don’t wanna be right.

Kind of like the kid to pull on your hair bc he liked you as a kid, ya feel me? Knock your books out of your hands in high school bc it’s the only way he knows how to flirt, ya know?

Just. RRRRRAAAASDHHDHDHD I LOVE THIS SO FAR

[mugiwara-lucy]

Hi friends!!!

I'd like to remind all of you to CHECK YOUR VOTER REGISTRATION STATUSES!

A certain group is trying to purge voters of their registration statuses 😒

All so they can get THIS pile of shit back into the White House:

Sorry for the jumpscare! 🤣

But yeah make sure you're registered so we can vote against and be DONE with this piece of shit ONCE AND FOR AL!!!!

[heyheresathou]

why didn't i click entire work. why. WHY DAMMIT.

[mcl4r3n]

Ego

Or, a 2,500 word fanfic of Lando Norris discovering AO3 and getting off to fanfiction that nobody asked for but I wanted to write, anyway. :3

-

Lando Norris is a cunt and should lose his seat

Why the fuck do people keep hyping this kid up

Driver of the Day????? ARE U KIDDING ME???? WHEN CARLOS DEFENDED LIKE THAT??? Wtf

Lando exhales through his nose, slow and long, before smiling to himself and closing out his private Twitter browser.

The reception to his performance at Austria is expected, and it's a little amusing to read that that's the worst these strangers on the internet seem to be able to come up with. 

He's gotten better, certainly, at not running his mouth with reckless abandon. Charlotte would be proud of him, if she still worked for McLaren. 

He leans back in his seat, the jet preparing for takeoff. The articles were nice to him. Damon Hill had good things to say about him. P5 to P4, thanks to the penalties. It's a good fucking day. 

-

It's a little masochistic, a little narcissistic, to peruse the internet for his name as much as he does, but he’s a Silverstone winner now. He’s really enjoyed the things written up about him. 

Besides, that's how Lando learned to get over caring so much in the first place. Just a few years back, he used to agonize over a slip of the tongue, used to wring his hands and fuck up his hair in worry over what the pundits would say about him because of a careless soundbite. 

He dealt with some of the worst of it when Daniel became his teammate, and even at the end, he had to learn how to stop flinching whenever he saw the word 'sympathy.' 

Now it's different. It helps, of course, that Daniel taught him how to get over it, grow thicker skin, and deal with the worst of it. 

"Let it roll off you like water," Daniel said. So Lando did. 

It's a slower news week though, and he's bored, so he searches up his name and scrolls through all the posts on the first few pages of his Google search. 

And then he sees it, a link to something called 'Archive of Our Own,' and decides to press on it with his thumb. 

It opens to a page that appears to be. . . stories, written about. . . them. Drivers. 

Drivers with other drivers. Drivers' names next to 'Original Female Character(s)'. 

It's fiction written by fans about them. 

Lando looks around his living room, at the stalled Netflix homepage on his television screen. He really should be on the sim instead, but mostly, he's tired, and would rather do some other mindless thing. 

He scrolls through and sees one that says 'Lando Norris/Carlos Sainz' with an E in a red square. Beside it, a link leads to 'Formula 1 RPF'. 

He toggles onto a new tab and types in 'rpf meaning,' which shows the definition: real person fiction. Well, he gathered as much. 

The tags are interesting, he'll give it that. 'Blowjob', '2023 Formula 1 Season', 'Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot'.

He opens the story and scans it quickly, the morbid curiosity of wanting to know how fans see his relationship with Carlos overriding the fact that it's fucking weird to be reading what is essentially smut about himself and his friend. 

This story seems to have them written like they're secret lovers, that they have been since Carlos' McLaren days, and absolutely doesn't take into account that both he and Carlos had girlfriends at one point. 

He snorts when he reaches a line that has him saying, "Carlos, please, you're so big, please fuck me."

Lando frowns at the screen. His skin is starting to itch. Why do people think he'd say that to Carlos? For one thing, Carlos doesn't even have a big dick. Lando knows—he's seen it himself. Changing in a hurry tends to lead to that, flinging bits about while they finish golf.

"Cariño," the Carlos in the story says, and that's when Lando loses it, no longer able to contain his laughter. He's honestly tempted to send a screenshot off to Carlos, but then he'd have to explain how he found it in the first place, and he doesn't feel like doing that just now. 

So instead, he clicks back and scrolls down some more. 

There seems to be a pretty steady stream of people who are invested in Max and Daniel, and also Max and Charles, based on the list of pairings that he sees, which he can like, understand. He doesn't blame the fans at all for that, considering how many antics they get up to in the name of PR. 

They know that shit sells. Lando’s just getting a full proper look at what that actually means for fans. 

Yeah, that’s right, he tells himself. This is just homework. He’s doing recon to see what else they can do to boost their socials. 

He takes a little more time to read through the page properly. It lists the number of words in the story, the ratings that imply just how explicit the story is, and something called a ‘kudos’ which he figures means that it’s the same as likes on Instagram or whatever. 

He stops at one that has him and Daniel, and curiosity gets the better of him. It’s short, too, roughly 1,500 words. It’s listed as Explicit, but the summary is what gets him. 

“Daniel knows exactly how to congratulate Lando properly for his win at Silverstone.” 

Lando leans back into his throw pillow and holds his phone a little closer to his face. 

The story is set in the new Hilton hotel, and this must have been written by a fan who was actually there because the description of the room itself is eerily similar to the room he himself stayed in just last week. 

This story seems to get the way he and Daniel talk a little closer to reality than the previous one he perused. 

It’s so strange to be reading this, to have his mannerisms laid out in text, to see how a fan describes him through this fictional version of Daniel. 

Lando can’t seem to exit out of it, though. The Lando in the story is happy, of course, about winning. But the Daniel in it—seems desperate. For him. 

Lando’s fucking hooked. 

Daniel wants to reach out, wants to mess up Lando’s curls even more, never mind the fact that it’s sticky with sweat and champagne. Lando hasn’t even changed out of the clothes from the fan stage yet, but all Daniel wants to do is undress him, bury his face in Lando’s armpit, and inhale deeply, abolish any sort of space that separates them. 

Lando puts his phone down. His heart rate has kicked up a little. This is fake. This is fake. This is fake.

He gets back to reading. This is fake. Like, it’s all made up, but the details that this fan throws in… well. It has Daniel staring longingly at his moles, and the way his clothes hug his thighs and—

And now, the Lando in the story is turning around and tipping his head to the side and saying, "Why are you looking at me like that?" 

Lando draws his knees closer to his chest, curling his arms in and reading intently. 

"Mate, I'm really—I'm having a hard time right now and I think I should uh, go," Daniel says. He starts to scramble. He doesn't even know why he thought visiting Lando in his room would be a good idea. 

Daniel turns to leave but Lando steps in closer, frowning. 

"What's going on?" Lando asks, his eyes searching Daniel's face for any sort of answer. Daniel needs to go. He needs to go right fucking now, but Lando has his hand wrapped around his wrist and he looks wounded by Daniel's abrupt one-eighty. 

Daniel hangs his head in shame. 

"I want to—to kiss you, and I need you to let me go before I do that." 

Lando doubts that Daniel would ever actually say that, but somehow he’s not inclined to laugh about this the way he was with the other story. 

Lando’s hand remains where it is, fingers strong and unyielding. 

“You—you wanna kiss me? Are you drunk right now?” 

Daniel wants to fall into the floor beneath him, have the marble or whatever the fuck this tile is made of to rearrange its molecules so he can become one with them. That's better than having to repeat himself. That's better than having to admit out loud that he wants to fuck his ex-teammate who is ten years his junior. 

Lando pauses here. He's realizing that the AC isn't quite cold enough. How'd that happen? 

He readjusts himself on his couch. There's really no point in reading on but now he wants to know what happens. Morbid curiosity really is getting the better of him. 

His screen lights up again when he raises his phone and unlocks the screen to where the story is still there, taunting him.  

He exhales. He reads on. 

"Yeah, Lando, I wanna kiss you," Daniel says, his voice steadier than how he actually feels. 

Lando's eyes narrow, and he tilts his head, regarding Daniel like he's lying, like he's fucking with him. And, yeah, okay, fair, Daniel's said enough gay-sounding shit around him for him to be suspicious, but that was all for the cameras. 

There aren't any, here. There's no reason for him to be playing gay chicken. 

Lando's hand tightens around his wrist. 

"Prove it, then," Lando says, raising his chin, like a dare. Like a fucking dare. 

Daniel could easily leave. He isn't much bigger than Lando but he could have pulled away earlier. Except—except now Lando is taunting him. Telling him to put his money where his mouth is. 

Lando's heart is racing now, torn between wanting to close out of this story and reading on, just because he's gotten this far. He might as well finish it. 

Daniel steps closer, and even if this isn't exactly how he'd fantasized about kissing Lando for the first time, but somehow it's still fitting. Lando is so handsome like this—blush high on his cheeks, all the way down to his neck. 

He cups his hand under Lando's jaw, and brushes his thumb over the stupid fucking beard that he hated at first but now loves—

Lando frowns. Was his beard really that bad? 

—and presses his lips to Lando's. It's tentative at first, exploratory, hesitant in its early press, but then Lando moans, gasps against his mouth, and Daniel takes that as his cue to seal his lips in closer and slide his tongue against Lando's. 

It becomes frantic then after they both cross the threshold into each other's breaths. Lando's hands grasp at Daniel's shirt, and the next thing Daniel knows, he's being guided to the bed, collapsing on top of the pristine duvet without ceremony. 

Lando clambers on top of him and straddles his hips, and Daniel can already feel himself getting hard in his jeans. 

Lando stops reading. 

He stops because all of a sudden, he can feel himself getting hard, too. 

He glances between his legs as if looking will make it go away but it’s futile. He can see his half-chub starting to tent his shorts. Fuck. What the fuck? 

But then again—he’s alone right now. No one is around to see this. 

He feels juvenile, like he’s thirteen all over again trying to sneak porn on his older brother’s laptop and then learning how to delete his search history. Except that porn sort of made sense, to him, at least. He was watching girls with big boobs getting railed by these buff men. 

This is—this is different. Kind of concerning. He’s sure none of the other drivers have ever done this. 

But the more he waits, the more impatient the little voice in his head gets, wanting to know what happens in the story. He sighs, resigned, and opens his phone back up. 

“Lando, Lando, wait,” Daniel says, pulling away and desperately trying to catch his breath. “I—There, I proved it to you. Are you happy?” 

“Yeah, I was, until you stopped, you muppet,” Lando frowns. “Why’d you stop?” 

Daniel swallows the spit in his mouth���Christ almighty, that’s spit that also came from Lando’s mouth. “Because if we keep going, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.” 

Lando leans over him, and Daniel has to suppress the shudder that courses through the entirety of his body because Lando is hard, too. Lando is hard and pressing his erection against Daniel’s steadily growing one, and he has to curl his toes to deal with the fucking emotion of it all. 

Lando’s fucked. He’s so fucked. He’s fully hard now from reading this scene, and before he can bring himself to feel too much shame over it, he’s tugging the elastic of his shorts and his boxers down to tuck it under his dick and—fuck, fuck—

He holds his phone in his left hand and spits into his right before bringing it to his cock to wrap around it while he reads on. 

The story progresses quickly from there, the Lando and Daniel in the scene getting back to kissing frantically and undressing each other, and none of the words feel cliche. It’s almost chilling how clearly he can hear his voice and Daniel’s in the dialogue, but what’s most concerning is that the more he reads, the faster his hand goes. 

In the story, Daniel takes Lando’s erection in his hand and kisses him silly while Lando fucks into his grip, and Lando tries to follow suit, so caught up in what he’s reading that he finds himself feeling like his hand isn’t his own, like it’s Daniel’s instead, and by the time this imagined Lando finally spills all over his own belly, Lando’s own real-fucking-life orgasm is ripped out from him, and he’s coming all over his own hand, matting down his pubes with how much jizz there is that’s still coming out in small little spurts from his dick. 

He drops his phone, now that he’s spent and boneless on his couch. His right hand is gross and he doesn’t even have any tissues nearby, so he has to settle for taking his shirt off to mop up his mess. 

He’s sated and sleepy, but then the shame starts to creep in, except that his phone starts to ring, and—Jesus Christ, speak of the devil—he sees that Daniel is calling him. 

It’s with shaky hands that he retrieves his phone from the carpet, and it’s with a shakier voice that he answers it. 

“Heya, Lando,” Daniel says. “D’you wanna meet up for dinner tonight? I just got back to Monaco and I’m jonesing for that rotisserie place we went to last time.” 

Lando exhales, now that post-nut clarity has started to suffuse his brain with rationality from the comedown. 

“Yeah, Danny, I’m in,” Lando replies. “I can pick you up at 6:30?” 

“Super,” Daniel replies. “It’s a date!” And then ends the fucking call. 

Christ. He has no idea how he’s going to face Daniel tonight after what he just did.