#also i missed u babes!!

[mysicklove]

Bro how did Sukuna rizz up reader so much? (Also how old is everyone, if Yuji’s 4 then how olds Sukuna?)

the mere exposure effect is a tendency for people to develop a preference/affections to something/someone that are being constantly exposed to.

basically sukuna didn’t leave you alone until u eventually were like, “well he isn’t too bad…” LOLOL he also scared off any guys that tried to talk to you so u kinda we’re stuck with him🙄🙄🙄🙄

that, plus he is very very physically affectionate with you. when the two of you were friends (+ his tutor) he would always be in your personal space, playing with your hair, and blowing on the back of the neck to watch you jump. i feel like the teasing and him being always around just kinda slowly developed into you slowly liking him back. i mean that, plus he would flirt with you every second he could, just eventually u were like, “fine. we can go on one date.” and u were trapped after that. LOL

Ages:

you and sukuna met at 15, started dating at 18, and yuuji was 1 when he suddenly came crashing into sukunas (+ chosos) life. sukuna and you were 19 at the time and that was 3 years ago.

Yuuji: 4 years old

Sukuna and reader: 21

Choso: 25

[inkskinned]

love when men cry about body hair bc "it's hygiene" and yet 15% of cis men leave the bathroom without washing their hands at all and an additional 35% only just wet their hands without using soap. that is nearly half of all men. that means statistically you have probably shaken hands with or been in direct contact with one of these people.

love when men say that women "only want money" when it turns out that even in equal-earning homes, women are actually adding caregiver burdens and housework from previous years, whereas men have been expanding leisure time and hobbies. in equal-earning households, men spend an average of 3.5 hours extra in leisure time per week, which is 182 hours per year - a little over a week of paid vacation time that the other partner does not receive. kinda sounds like he wants her money.

love that men have decided women are frail and weak and annoying when we scream in surprise but it turns out it's actually women who are more reliable in an emergency because men need to be convinced to actually take action and respond to the threat. like, actually, for-real: men experience such a strong sense of pride about their pre-supposed abilities that it gets them and their families killed. they are so used to dismissing women that it literally kills them.

love it. told my father this and he said there's lies, damned lies, and statistics. a year ago i tried to get him to evacuate the house during a flash flood. he ignored me and got injured. he has told me, laughing, that he never washes his hands. he has said in the last week that women are just happier when we're cooking or cleaning.

maybe i'm overly nostalgic. but it didn't used to feel so fucking bleak. it used to feel like at least a little shameful to consider women to be sheep. it just feels like the earth is round and we are still having conversations about it being flat - except these conversations are about the most obvious forms of patriarchy. like, we know about this stuff. we've known since well before the 50's.

recently andrew tate tried to justify cheating on his partner as being the "male prerogative." i don't know what the prerogative for the rest of us would be. just sitting at home, watching the slow erosion of our humanity.

[catscidr]

i. note — i was feeling a certain typa way because i kept coming across fics where the reader was described as busty so i wrote this in like two hours to make myself feel better lmao sue me…. ii. includes — dottore, afab!reader. no pronouns used, only descriptions of boobs/looking womanly (?) iii. cw — fluff, hurt/comfort, crack-ish bc this is a little silly, dottore is trying his best (maaaybe ooc), a little suggestive but nothing happens, talks of sex and oral, casual touching. MDNI. tldr reader is self conscious about their body and dottore tries to make them feel better lol iv. wc — 1,8k

It’s not often that you get to lay in bed with your lover; he’s always busy running around his lab, either fixing others’ mistakes or scrapping his own work to start over what he has spent so much time on. Dating the infamous Il Dottore was a challenge not many were strong enough for, but you made it work.

You would spend time with him in Haeresys by helping him with some tasks (even if they were small, and didn’t really need to be done in the first place). Handing him different tools when he’d wordlessly ask for them while neck deep in the guts of a Ruin Guard, carefully organizing old reports and documents in his desk that would never see the light of day anytime soon, and bringing him a healthy meal to eat while he worked (though you would do that yourself, because Archon forbid he actually eats on his own accord).

So, given how sparse your time together is, of course you would make it count. Of course you would use that time wisely, go out for an evening to a nice restaurant, maybe even cuddle up on the couch to binge an entire season of a show you had been meaning to watch for ages but couldn't bring yourself to because you wanted to watch it with him.

You wouldn’t dare spend your evening together in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity while he sits up, reading a book you can’t even stomach the contents of.

...Except that’s exactly what you’re doing.

You can't really help it, though. You know how he is; diligent and hardworking, a man of his craft. You know he doesn’t have the time to entertain you and your silly questions and hypotheticals, you know he’s not too fond of sweet touches and words of affection. You know this isn’t your typical relationship, but you don’t mind because you get to be with him— and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Save for when you sulk and feel so incredibly insecure and inadequate for a man such as himself.

Humans have needs. You are human, and you have needs. Dottore is a human (to some extent, though still technically human), so he, naturally, also has needs.

The issue lies in the enormous, metaphorical physical gap between you and your lover. Naturally, Dottore is essentially married to his craft, so getting any sort of action is usually out of the question. You can get a peck or two out of him, one in the morning and one at night (if you’re even awake to feel his scarred lips gently pressing into your cheek), but that’s where the list of physical affection ends.

You’ve talked about your desires and boundaries alike when you first (officially) started going out. The discussion didn’t leave out anything sexual in nature either; though the conversation was mostly led by you, while he simply nodded and pitched in with a word or two every so often.

It’s not to say you’ve never been physical with one another. But recently it’s been happening less and less, and you’ve been finding yourself in this position a lot more often; curled into yourself, lost in your own thoughts as you picked out every little detail about you that you were certain weren’t up to his standards. 

It’s only when you feel him shift next to you that you’re brought back to your shared bedroom, away from the rainy clouds stuffing your mind. 

Dottore shuts the book in his lap, keeping his right hand’s thumb wedged between the pages. He peers down at you with a curious expression, silently analyzing your suspicious silence. 

“You’re quieter than usual,” he comments, tone as flat as it could be. You crane your neck back to look up at him, the duvet covering most of your face as you wrack your brain for something to say. 

After a second of opening and closing your mouth, you finally say something. “’M just tired,” you murmur quietly, nuzzling deeper into the blankets to sell your point. He hums in response, placing his book on the nightstand next to his side of the bed and crosses his arms in front of him, brow quirked up in disapproval. Piercing red eyes stare down at you, making you hold back a shudder. Archons, you’d never get tired of seeing him without that ornate mask of his.

“It’s quite abnormal for you, of all people, to be silent when presented with the opportunity to have a conversation with me, uninterrupted” Dottore states, watching as you tense in your little cocoon. After a beat you emerge from your safety, chin just barely peeking out of the edge of the duvet. 

“...I had a long day.” You avoid looking at him, a pout gracing your lips. He huffs in response and runs a hand through his loose hair. “Long day you say?” Dottore keeps his composure intact, remembering the moments you’ve whined to him throughout the day about how completely and utterly bored you felt. 

“Mm. Long day, right,” he brings one hand down to hold onto the duvet and pulls it down, making you reach for the blanket to cover yourself up; though your efforts are in vain. “What’s on your mind.” 

The way he spoke to you sent shivers down your spine, shuddering at the way he spoke in a way he would when making a statement. 

“Nuhh... nothing. Nothing at all, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shift in the bed to cover yourself, even if it’s entirely unnecessary. The tee shirt you wore covered you plenty, but without the duvet you just felt so... exposed. Especially with how well Dottore could read your body language; it’s like you didn’t even need to say anything (because you didn’t). 

His gaze on you never relents as he scrutinizes your appearance; your furrowed brows, your hair sprawled across the pillow- still damp from your shower- and the way your lip trembles almost imperceptibly as you hold back the urge to talk about what’s been bothering you. He hates having to metaphorically twist your arm to get you to open up, but if that’s what he needed to do to keep you sane, he’d do it over and over again. 

Dottore scoots his body down to lay in the bed properly and turns to his side to face you, icy hair cascading down his neck as he pulls you in towards him with a hand on your waist. You squeak, tilting your head back so as to not invade his personal space. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asks, softer than before but still with a demanding tone. You shrink, avoiding looking into his eyes. 

“Nothi-” 

“I’m not in the mood for games.” He says your name quietly, thinly veiled with an unspoken warning. 

With a huff you bite the inside of your cheeks, and finally relent. You speak quietly and without even an ounce of confidence, earning a sharp sigh from your lover. 

“I can’t hear you when you mumble like th-” 

“I’m flat!” you practically shout. 

Dottore blinks back the whiplash that hit him in the face, stern expression fading into one of complete and utter perplexion. You don’t elaborate, staying quiet as a deep flush takes over your cheeks. 

“You’re... what?” 

He stares at you owlishly, for once at a loss for words. You nod, sitting up to properly articulate your feelings now that the cat was out of the bag. 

“My boobs are small! I have no ass! I’m... I look like a door!” You gesture at your chest, expression looking entirely distraught as you vent your feelings out to your lover. Your shoulders droop down unceremoniously, lips jutting out in a pout as you stare at the wall to avoid crossing Dottore’s gaze. The sound of the wind howling outside of your bedroom window morphs into what almost sounds like a laugh, as if mother nature herself was cackling at your expense.

“I feel bad when people see you with me. I can’t... I have such a bad gag reflex I can’t even take a third of your dick in my m-” 

He cuts you off by placing a hand on your shoulder, frown etched deep onto his face. If you looked closely you’d see red dusting the tips of his ears, contrasting against his hair. 

“You’re self-conscious because you have... small breasts and a... sensitive uvula?” Dottore says, his tone completely void of the confidence he usually carried. Fingers comb through your hair, light and gentle, as he thinks of what he can even say in response to your confession. 

You sniffle, looking down at yourself. The shirt you wore did little to help your smaller cup size— and as you frown at yourself, you bring a hand up and place it over one breast. “See, even my hand can cover them easily. My body doesn’t have even a little bit of curves.” 

Although at a loss, Dottore recovers from the absurdity of the situation in record time. He shifts your body so you’re now facing him, and very casually slips his hands underneath your shirt to cup your breasts. He speaks before you can, cutting off the slurry of complaints you had ready. 

“Have I ever complained about them?” he asks solemnly, forcing you to look at him. “As far as I’m aware I never have. Why bother being concerned over something so trivial?” 

His hands squeeze them gently, making you squeak in response. The more seconds pass, the more ashamed and flustered you feel for even bringing this up. As if a man of his caliber would even care for something like this, how stupid do you have to be to think of him as someone that only cared for looks?

“Well, no, but-” another squeeze cuts off your train of thoughts,” -b-but the rest...! Men like women with a fuller figure, I can’t even give you a titjob!” 

The words that flew out of your mouth made his head spin, from both irritation and embarrassment simultaneously. He inhales and exhales slowly, dragging his palms down to your ribs, then your waist, until they settle atop your hips. 

“I’ve never asked for anything of the sort,” he sighs, observing the changes in your face carefully. 

“Yeah, but-” 

“No ‘but’s. Your body is fine. It does not matter how it looks like from the outside; your organs are working properly, and you do not have any abnormalities forming anywhere inside or outside of it. How your figure looks holds little importance to me.” 

His words sink in, and you feel your invisible dog ears droop to rest flat on top of your head as you glance down at your lap, shame ringing in your ears. Dottore’s grasp tightens around your hips, demanding for your attention to be on him once again, refusing to let you sulk as long as he could help it.

“Although, putting functionality aside, do I need to remind you exactly what I think of your body? Shall I remind you how you make me feel whenever I see you parading around my office? How my body reacts to you?”

Your lips threaten to quirk up into a sheepish smile, but your shame still ate you up from the inside, keeping you from reacting. Your lover hums and flashes you a wolfish grin, leaning in towards your neck to nibble at your ear, teasing the flushed skin. 

“We do have the rest of the night to ourselves, don’t we? Want to find out just how much your body affects me, my love?”

[catcze]

APHRODITE APHRODITE APHRODITE OMG OMG HI ITS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU POSTING !!! and about WRIOSTHSDFJS HES SOOOOOOOOOOOOO FINE.

i have so many unsavory thoughts about his handcuffs....... his broad shoulders.......... his fluffy hair.......... omg he is so dogboy HE IS SO GERMAN SHEPARD CODED????? LIKE PLS SIR GROW EARS SO I CAN PET YOU ??????? i just wanna give his head pats and scritches while he lays his head on my lap 🥰🥰🥰 im such a sucker for that ong I JUST LOVE HIM HES SO FINE I CANT WAIT TO HAVE HIM

(sidenote also hurt/comfort wrapping his fists after he gets into a fight without his gloves ?? BLOODY KNUCKLES KINDA....... JUST KISSING HIS HANDS WHICH ARE SURELY SCARRED FROM THAT TYPE OF FIGHTING)

REN BABY HEYYYYYYY <33 I MISSED U !!!!

MY GOD SO TRUEEEE 😭😭 bro he is so fine forreal holy shit ;;;; there is just smth about him that !!! AHSDHAJKSBS I can't even word it but omg his vibes are just so off the chart 👀

AND YESSS My god just soft moments with Wriothesley,,, BRO could you just imagine how he would met into your touch, and how he would sorta push his head up into your hand when it pets and plays with his hair? and how, if you stop, he'd open his eyes and give you a little glare until you get back to it, then and only then will he close his eyes back up and lean back into your lap.

AN D UFUALKMDS THE HAND WRAPPING LORD HAVE MERCY;; the urge to write this fic after u mentioned it??? aaAAAA

Like him trying to do it himself at first, since he's experienced in patching himself up after his fights and he doesn't want to bother you with something like this, but he immediately caves when you see it, gasp, and then take his hand in yours to help. And oh you're so busy with spreading ointment on his split knuckles and wrapping it so gently in bandages, worried that you're doing it too loosely or too tightly, that you don't even see the way his gaze on you is so fond. He holds still for you, places his hand on your lap so you can tend to it, and does his best to assure you that he's fine, dearest. Wriothesley doesn't think his heart can take much more, seeing you dote on him and care for his worn and scarred hands–– then you raise his hands to your lips and give it the gentlest of pecks, then turn his palms over and pepper small kisses over every scar you know is hidden under the bandages. All the way from his hands, to his wrists, then migrating to his face and up to his lips. And it's all he can do to contain himself when his heart feels like it's going to jump right out of his chest.

("Be careful next time, okay?"

"I promise, my love."

"And find me when you need help, please. It makes me feel better knowing I can help you like this. Knowing that you're cared for."

and as if he thinks you couldn't make him love you any more than he already does, you just go and prove him wrong.)

[daryldixonpls]

I want to go home and write and I’m sad :((((((

[bywons]

is everything alright to you now? i lost hope in this country and government. i just don't want to be here anymore.

🪷 anon

no, never until right justice is brought to every woman including her. not until very woman in india is fearless to walk alone at night. the authorities are failing us over and over, completely ignoring the main issue of this heinous crime and trying to bring her justice for dirty politics. i'm praying everyday, im disturbed and frustrated by this, i hope this issue meets an proper, just end. lets not lose hope </3

[ask2pame]

// gimme 1p or 2ps to make chibis of :3

[acourtofquestions]

Golden flame danced between her fingers.

Elide recoiled, and the fire vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"My name is Essar," the female said softly. "I am a friend--of your friends, I believe."

Elide said nothing.

"Cairn is a monster," Essar said, taking a step closer. "Stay far from him."

"I need to find him."

"You played the part of his mistreated lover well enough. You have to know something about him. What he does."

"If you know where he is, please tell me." She wasn't above begging.

Essar ran an eye over Elide. Then she said, "He was in this city until yesterday. Then he went out to the eastern camp." She pointed with a thumb over a shoulder. "He's there now."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's not terrorizing the patrons of every fine establishment in this town, glutting himself on the coin Maeve gave him when he took the blood oath."

Elide blinked. She had hoped some of the Fae might be opposed to Maeve, especially after the battle in Eyllwe, but to find such outright distaste...

Essar then added, "And because my sister--the soldier you spoke with--told me. She saw him in the camp this morning, smirking like a cat."

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because you are wearing Lorcan's shirt, and Rowan Whitethorn's cloak. If you do not believe me, inform them who told you and they will." Elide cocked her head to the side.

Essar said softly, "Lorcan and I were involved for a time."

They were in the midst of war, and had traveled for thousands of miles to find their queen, and yet the tightness that coiled in Elide's gut at those words somehow found space. Lorcan's lover. This delicate beauty with a bedroom voice had been Lorcan's lover.

"I'll be missed if I'm gone for too long, but tell them who I am. Tell them that I told you. If it's Cairn they seek, that is where he shall be. His precise location, I don't know." Essar backed away a step. "Don't go asking after Cairn at other taverns. He isn't well regarded, even amongst the soldiers. And those who do follow him... You do not wish to attract their interest."

Essar made to turn away, but Elide blurted,

"Where did Maeve go?"

Essar looked over her shoulder. Studied her.

The female's eyes widened. "She has Aelin of the Wildfire," Essar breathed.

Elide said nothing, but Essar murmured, "That was... that was the power we felt the other night." Essar swept back toward Elide. Gripped her hands. "Where Maeve went a few days ago, I don't know. She did not announce it, did not take anyone with her. I often serve her, am asked to... It doesn't matter. What matters is Maeve is not here. But I do not know when she will return."

Relief again threatened to send Elide crumpling to the ground. The gods, it seemed, had not abandoned them just yet.

But if Maeve had taken Aelin to the outpost where they'd lied that the Valg prince had been contained...

Elide gripped Essar's hands, finding them warm and dry. "Does your sister know where Cairn resides in the camp?"

For long minutes, then an hour, they had talked.

Essar left and returned with Dresenda, her sister. And in that alley, they had plotted.

Elide finished telling Rowan, Lorcan, and Gavriel what she'd learned. They sat in stunned silence for a long minute.

"Just before dawn," Elide repeated. "Dresenda said the watch on the eastern camp is weakest at dawn. That she'd find a way for the guards to be occupied. It's our only window."

Rowan was staring into the trees, as if he could see the layout of the camp, as if he were plotting his way in, way out.

"She didn't confirm if Aelin was in Cairn's tent, though," Gavriel cautioned. "Maeve is gone--Aelin might be with her, too."

"It's a risk we take," Rowan said. A risk, perhaps, they should have considered.

Elide glanced to Lorcan, who had been silent throughout. Even though it had been his lover who had helped them, perhaps guided by Anneith herself. Or at least had been tipped off by the scent on Elide's clothes.

"You think we can trust her?" Elide asked Lorcan, though she knew the answer.

Lorcan's dark eyes shifted to her. "Yes, though I don't see why she'd bother."

"She's a good female, that's why," Rowan said.

At Elide's lifted brow, he explained, "Essar visited Mistward this spring. She met Aelin." He cut a glare toward Lorcan. "And asked me to tell you that she sends her best."

Elide hadn't seen anything that came close to pining in Essar's face, but gods, she was beautiful. And smart. And kind. And Lorcan had let her go, somehow.

[theydjarin]

Shawn: Gus you know I hate this nerd shit 🙄

Shawn five minutes later: [says the most nerdy shit I’ve ever heard in my life]

[pinkfey]

i can feel my heart and soul withering away foodwateratmosphere.jpg

[foccaccia]

through gritted teeth i have spent a year growing my hair out i will not cut it all off just bc i saw an old photo i will not cut it all off just bc i saw an old photo i will not c

[pallases]

HELP forgot how much i used to talk like a victorian child

[taegularities]

WIFEY WHY IS OUR BOYFRIEND NAKED ON CAMERA WTF.

Also tumblr really out here calling me out huh

i'm gonna go and unalive myself actually bc this is tew much now

[marciliedonato]

No bc I literally don't understand what the actual FUCK paramore were thinking joining the biggest tour in the world as an OPENER as a replacement for an EU tour that fans gave been asking for for the longest time *AFTER* the presale period for said tour tickets (that cost an arm, a leg, your first born child, a blood sacrifice and your kidney on the black market excluding accommodation and transport 🙂) has already ended a MONTH ago and somehow thinking fans would actually be happy abt this. Like I seriously cannot understand their train of thought behind this. Literally who signed off on this. Who genuinely thought this was a good idea and not a massive "fuck you" to EU fans, some of which (like us here, hi, remember us? It's been 12 years this week...) have been waiting for TEN+ years wishing and hoping and holding out hope we would have our special moment seeing everyone else get to have theirs and just have so much fun and awesome experiences while we sit and watch and tell ourselves someday, somehow, it will be us.... And then whenever it is time for shows to happen (bc pmore is not a touring band, there's only one shot and it's when there's an album out - so it's been at least 6 years for everyone here) we either get ignored or.. whatever the hell this is.

Like I don't think you understand so ill say it again... THEY ANNOUNCED THEIR EU TOUR IS AS AN OPENER FOR THE BIGGEST ARTIST IN THE WORLD WHEN YOU CAN'T EVEN GET TICKETS ANYMORE AND *BASICALLY* CALLED IT THEIR EU TOUR BC THEY HAVENT SAID ANYTHING ABT ACTUALLY DOING ONE OF THEIR OWN.... yeah.

And don't even get me started on the ppl trying to gaslight EU fans into feeling bad or make us the bad guy here for not being happy with this shitty arrangement... Yes, this is big for them. Yes, they're gonna make a shit ton of money and yes, h and t are friends so they're literally chilling with friends for months (extra fun for them) but bands are literally nothing without the fans and we're being told to just smile and suck it up and be happy for them bc somehow money and fame matter more than the people who got you where you are and are just asking you for something as basic as respect bc they're literally being treated below everyone else... That's all it is abt, right? The money and selling out arenas (bc 'tHeY cOuLdnT dO iT oN ThEiR oWn tHiS iS mAssIvE jUsT ShUt uP anD bE hAppY fOr tHeM')....as long as u can make a shit ton of money it's a free for all, fuck the fans and their feelings right lol 🤪🤪🫠 like 'omg ur upset one of ur fave bands is treating u like ass/lesser than?? omg grow upppp they dont owe u anythinggg 😒😐'

Anyway I'm still pissed and I do hope they will do the right thing and like, at least try to have their own shows between her gigs or smth and can fix this for everyone specially considering how many people are giving them pushback for this bc this is absolutely atrocious and a diservice to EU pmore fans and our right to be upset is valid and I will not be told to calm down by Americans (et al but mostly americans) who are used to everything being handed out to them on a silver plate telling us to be happy abt them making bank and that we're overreacting fuck that noise lol

[faaun]

i feel conflicted abt my relationship...need advice etc . in tags . pls i need input sm

[beepbeepdespair]

GOD i wish i had the power and/or contacts to get people performance roles. there's a busker out today and she is one of the best fucking singers i have ever heard i'm not joking. she did i will always love you and i cried in a shop bc it was so beautiful. someone needs to put her in their musical right now