#and I'd appreciate no reblogs as I don't want this to circulate so

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

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[anistarrose]

I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide

[Plain text: "I want to make my posts more accessible, but can't write IDs myself: a guide." End plain text.]

While every image posted online should be accessible in an ideal world, we all know it 1) takes time to learn how to write image descriptions, and 2) is easy to run out of spoons with which to write IDs. And this says nothing of disabilities that make writing them more challenging, if not impossible — especially if you're a person who benefits from IDs yourself.

There are resources for learning how to write them (and if you already know the basics, I'd like to highlight this good advice for avoiding burnout) — but for anyone who cannot write IDs on their original posts at any current or future moment, for any reason, the there are two good options for posting on Tumblr.

1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord

[Plain text: "1. Crowdsource IDs through the People's Accessibility Discord". End plain text.]

The People's Accessibility Discord is a community that volunteers description-writing (and transcript-writing, translation, etc) for people who can't do so themselves, or feel overwhelmed trying to do so. Invite link here (please let me know if the link breaks!)

The way it works is simple: if you're planning to make an original post — posting art, for example — and don't know how to describe it, you can share the image there first with a request for a description, and someone will likely be able to volunteer one.

The clear upside here (other than being able to get multiple people's input, which is also nice) is that you can do this before making the Tumblr post. By having the description to include in your post from the start, you can guarantee that no inaccessible version of the post will be circulated.

You can also get opinions on whether a post needs to be tagged for flashing or eyestrain — just be able to spoiler tag the image or gif you're posting, if you think it might be a concern. (Also, refer here for info on how to word those tags.)

The server is very chill and focused on helping/answering questions, but if social anxiety is too much of a barrier to joining, or you can't use Discord for whatever reason, then you can instead do the following:

2. Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards

[Plain text: "Ask for help on Tumblr, and update the post afterwards". End description.]

Myself and a lot of other people who describe posts on this site are extra happy to provide a description if OP asks for help with one! This does leave the post inaccessible at first, so to minimize the drawbacks, the best procedure for posting an image you can't fully describe would be as follows:

Create the tumblr post with the most bare-bones description you can manage, no matter how simple (something like "ID: fanart of X character from Y. End ID" or "ID: a watercolor painting. End ID," or literally whatever you can manage)

Use a tool like Google Lens or OCR to extract text if applicable and if you have the energy, even if the text isn't a full image description (ideally also double-check the transcriptions, because they're not always perfect)

Write in the body of the post that you'd appreciate a more detailed description in the notes!

Tag the post as "undescribed" and/or "no id" only if you feel your current, bare-bones description is missing out on a lot of important context

When you post it and someone provides an ID, edit the ID into the original post (don't use read mores, italics, or small text)

Remove the undescribed tag, if applicable. If you're posting original art, you can even replace it with a tag like "accessible art" for visibility!

And congrats! You now have a described post that more people will be able to appreciate, and you should certainly feel free to self-reblog to give a boost to the new version!

[novashelby]

Just Breathe-A Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Smut MDNI. 18+

Pairing: Jonathan CraneXFem!Reader-Patient

Prompt: I used number 65

Warnings: Mentions of depression and anxiety, medication, use of drugs, dub-con. Fingering (f receiving). Age gap? Reader is unknown adult age, but Jonathan is older.

Summary: Dr. Crane's patient has been having a hard time climaxing after taking a SSRI. So, he gives her an experimental drug to help her climax.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This is a request by @futurefamousdeadmusician. They had given me the prompt, but allowed me the creative freedom. I hope you enjoy it. :) Please comment and reblog. Likes are kind, but I'd really appreciate if you can at least reblog. Rebloging allows an author's work to circulate.

She wasn’t his usual type of patient; small and meek. A simple diagnosis of general anxiety. Nothing a little pill couldn’t fix. The previous appointment he pulled out his pad and wrote down a low dose prescription of sertraline. Something he often started patients on. And so, when she came in the next appointment with a very typical problem, he was not surprised. Dr. Crane took off his dark rimmed glasses and leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. He listened intently and with genuine interest, watching her fiddle with the fraying hems of her sleeves. Many assumed he was all arrogance and no compassion. That was hardly the truth. Dr. Crane cared quite deeply about his patients. Perhaps just in a different way. 

“Are you nervous?” he asked, eying her picking at loose threads. Her fingernails scraped and pulled, causing balls of lint to flutter on the ground. His eyes watched as they drifted in the air. “You seem on edge.” It wasn’t anything new in her case; on edge and small. Though, the twitching in her wrist was new. She swallowed, stopping the shaking in her knee. Looking up at him, she took a deep sigh. 

“Mike and I had our first intimate date,” she said with a crooked, unsure smile. 

Curious, he arched his brows. “And how did that go? Michael…the boy from your university course, correct?” He wrote it down in his notebook for future reference. 

Shrugged, she winced a bit and shyly responded, “it didn’t…it didn’t go anywhere.” Her cheeks turned a shameful rosy red and she averted her attention off the side. It was not an unusual side effect. In fact, it was almost expected with SSRIs at this point. Dr. Crane noted in his file; the patient is struggling with intimacy-possible side effects from medication. “He was getting frustrated with me. I couldn’t…couldn’t…finish?” she questioned, looking back up at him. Poor girl looked so ashamed and embarrassed, her cute bottom lip pouting out. 

“I see,” he said, thumb playing with the pen in his hand. Click. Click. Click. “Well, it is a normal response to the medication. Lower libido and difficulty reaching climax. Have you tried to talk to Michael about this?” 

She shook her head. “Hasn’t answered any of my texts.”

Dr. Craned sighed and offered a consolidating smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Dr. Crane, am I just going to be like this everyday for the rest of my life?” she asked after a random moment of silence. It took him by surprise when she stood, taking a deep inhale and holding it before letting it out with a stream of words. “I just…I feel so fucking useless!” His eyes followed as she passed about the small, dimly lit office. “Like I can’t function. For one fucking day.” Pausing, she turned on her heels and faced him, eyes peering down. “Like, it isn’t possible, right? No one can possibly be like this forever, right?” Dr. Crane put aside his notes and stood. Perhaps it was a little unprofessional, but he gently put his hands over her arms, thumbs running circles. It took her a second to come in focus, but when she did, she looked into his eyes and asked, “Dr. Crane, I want to feel human-”

“You feel nothing, but human,” he responded, gently. “Being human is feeling anxious, scared, happy, nervous. Don't worry.” His hand went up to her cheek. “We can adjust your medication and change the dosage. I can…hmm.” He stopped mid thought when it hit him. “There is something I could try. Would you mind grabbing your belongings? We will actually head to the examination room-no, no, nothing at all to be afraid of.” The girl shivered in his arms, hesitating at the threshold of the door. He flicked off the lights and had to rest his hand on her lower back to shimmy her out. “We will go downstairs. Ah!” He walked over to the check in desk. “Linda, I will need you to cancel my appointments, and why don’t you take the rest of the day?”

Linda, the aging receptionist, took a moment to realize she was getting a free afternoon. In glee, she said, “oh, of course, Dr. Crane. Thank you!” 

He nodded. “Just remember to cancel those appointments and reschedule for Friday. I’ll switch around my shift at Arkham.” His eyes drifted back to the nervous girl, still fiddling with her sweater sleeves. “Just this way,” he whispered, smiling down at her. “Be Careful going down the steps. They’re a bit steep.” And he was right. She felt one wrong step and she would tumble down. Gripping the wooden railing, she climbed down sideways. Unlike Dr. Crane, who knew each step as if he had them mapped out in his brain. 

When they both reached downstairs, he flicked on a light. When her eyes adjusted, she was surprised to see a rather modern examination room; marble floor, medical bed, and metal cabinets. “Do you often bring patients down here, Dr. Crane?” Her eyes scanned the room when she saw four straps on the bed. She hated to admit it, but her brain instantly went to serial killer. He chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, as he was walking to a cabinet, unlocking it with a set of keys. “Those aren’t for you. Sit on the gurney please. I have to get you a waiver.” His fingers skimmed over the packets before pulling out a single piece of paper. “Ah! Here we are! No need to fear, it is only precautionary and customary.” Handing her the pen, he prompted her to sign it. Her fingers lingered over the pen, hesitantly taking it to sign.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, brows knitted.

He smiled, and cupped her cheek. “I will explain it to you in a moment, but I’d like you to sign it first. Just in case.” She nodded and skimmed over the words, not registering anything before shoving it back to him. Dr. Crane had never given her a reason not to trust him. “Good girl.” Good girl? A lump formed in the back of her throat as those words did something to her. His whole demeanor changed. The way he spoke was smooth and less professional and clinical. And this ascertain possessiveness clung to the words good girl. When she embarrassingly looked away, his hand was back at her cheek, pushing her to look at him. He was closing the gap between them. “Have I ever given you a reason not to be safe with me? Have I not always done what was right for you? Hm? You will be trying a new drug.” 

“A new drug?” she asked, wincing. “Shouldn’t I withdraw from the other one? Has it been tested? Approved by the FDA?” Ignoring her questions, he simply chuckled and pinched her chin before turning his back going to another file cabinet. Out he pulled a syringe and a vial filled with a purple liquid. 

“It’s a new erectile dysfunction treatment for men,” he explained, turning his head up to draw a syringe. “But it hasn’t been tested on a woman yet, and perhaps I am a bit curious. It won’t hurt you. I’m just curious if it will work.” He turned back to her, the syringe now filled with the purple liquid. She hated shots, but started to roll up her sleeve. “I’ll give you a lesser dose,” he lied, smirking to himself. It was a higher dose mixed with many other components that were known to mess with a woman’s senses.”

“I hate shots,” she explained, showing him her bare arm. 

Dr. Crane chuckled, and said, “actually, it doesn't go in your arm. Rest. Lie on your back.” When she went to open her mouth, he explained, “it goes in your upper thigh. I’ll need to take off your pants. Is that alright?” She contemplated for a second, eyes looking back to the restraints. Have I ever given you a reason not to be safe with me? She started to slide off the gurney, mumbling about how her session was over and how she needed to get home. Dr. Crane’s cool, collected exterior tensed, and the hands that were once gently touching her, were rougher. “Ah, ah, ah. You know the expression that a doctor knows best.” He grabbed her upper arms and pushed her back down.

“Dr. Crane,” she said, mustering up the courage to sound a bit more curt and direct. “I’d like to go home, please.” He wouldn’t budge, eyes peering down at her. The syringe was right there wedged between his index and middle finger.

He slowly smirked, noticing how she kept looking at the restraints. He could read her easily. Knowing what was traveling through her mind, he whispered seductively in her ear. “I will use those if I have to, but if you are a good girl, I won’t. So, please, rest.” He eased her back down on the gurney and guided her to lay flat down. “I’m a doctor,” was his explanation for playing with the button on her pants. “This is nothing short of clinical for me.” Though it was true in a sense, it was still all erotic to him. Having a young woman so helplessly at his mercy in the name of his experiments, He was sure that she wouldn’t last his fear toxin, but luckily for her, he enjoyed a dabble in other areas. Including that of an arousal drug used for men. It wasn’t his, however, but a colleagues….He was simply using it as a side project in benefit of having his name on another paper. Her legs squeezed shut, preventing the ease of pulling them down, Jonathan laughed. “Come now,” he tisked, sliding a hand between her thigh and pulling them apart with ease. 

“It’s just a little uncomfortable,” she said, looking up at him with these pathetic doe-like eyes. Oh, how he had to fake sympathy; lip pouting and head tilted. Awww, I know. It is all so scary. Tell me exactly what you are fearful of? Swallowing, her eyes glanced over at the brown leather straps. “You’ll kill me.”

“How silly,” he said. “What use would I have of you then? Dead? Ah, you young women and your obsession with the grotesque and morbid. Would you believe I am actually helping you?” His cool fingers hooked around the waistband of her jeans and pulled down to her knees. Grabbing an alcohol wipe, he cleaned a small patch near the pelvic area instead of the thigh, where he originally said. When the needle came in closer, she winced, trying to push away slightly. Jonathan pulled away, frowning. His other hand reached out and caressed her cheek. In the softest voice, he cooed, “I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” When the word baby laced within his sentence, she felt an ache in her stomach. It was mixed with sickness and…and that odd sensation that young girls get when they notice their first crush. Almost like a cramp and tingle. Baby? Her eyes glossed as she eased for him. “Good girl. Now, it won’t even hurt…ah! See?! So distracted, you hardly felt the tiny prick, sweetheart.” He was right, she hardly felt the prick. 

“What will happen now?” she asked, watching the ceiling. 

“You may feel a bit warm,” he explained, tossing the syringe and gloves away in a red bin for hazards. Instead of allowing her to leave, he took a seat on the stool, and watched her. “For men, they start to feel a bit of a tingle. An uncontrollable urge, if you will. Of course,” he paused, grinning at her. “An erection and if the sex is of standards, a very satiable climax. However! This is the first time it’s been tested on a female, but I expect the results to be on par-”

“W-what?” she asked, embarrassed. “Dr. Crane. I will do that here?”

Brows arched, he asked, “had you not read the waiver form thoroughly? I’m a bit disappointed, sweetheart. However, yes, you will go through the full trial here.” 

She tried to sit up, but got a bit dizzy and laid back down. “B-but in front of you?”

“It’s all clinical,” he explained. “But, because you hadn’t read the waiver, I want to reinforce that you should allow your body to feel exactly what it wants to feel. That you should relax into the urges and intrusive thoughts. Suppressing it will only make you worse. How are you feeling?” She hummed, wiggling her hands and feets. 

“Just a bit warm is all,” she explained, turning to glance at him, finding it funny that he wasn’t writing anything down. He wasn’t observing her as she imagined a doctor conducting an experiment. Instead, he was simply staring. When she went to sit up, that is when an overwhelming cold sweat hit her, knocking the breath from her lungs. “Shit,” she cursed under breath, closing her eyes. She wasn’t only warm, but hot. Almost like a dripping fever. 

“It’s only sixty-five in here,” he pointed out, amused. “It’s alright…how does your mouth feel?”

“Dry,” she croaked out, feeling her tongue turn to sandpaper. Sweat was forming at her temples and her heart was racing in a way she never felt. 

“Would you like some water?” he asked, sliding from the stool and walking to the sink. He filled a plastic cup with some water and turned to her, dipping his fingers in the cup. “Open your mouth…ahhh, good girl.” He dipped his fingers in her mouth, and there was something in her that turned absolutely feral. Intrigued, he observed how she reached up and hungrily sucked at his fingers, tongue swirling. She refused to let them go, whining when he pulled them away. “Your eyes are quite hazy,” he teased, pressing his fingers against her neck to feel her rising pulse. Her inhibitions were going down, he noted, and watched as whatever she was feeling turned into a survival need. She was hungry for something and she couldn’t comprehend. Sitting up a bit, mouth wide open and tongue out like a bitch in heat. She followed his hand before sucking in his fingers. Bobbing her head, she moaned as if she was pleasuring his cock. “The need for oral stimulation,” he commented before asking, “how hot are you out of ten?” Funny enough, she put up her fingers instead of releasing him. Eight. “Hmm, I see…there you go, sweety. You can take them deeper if you wish….” And she did, pushing them down her throat, choking and drooling over them. His trousers started to tightened as she was falling right where he wanted her. “Now, I must ask. If you are hot, why are you wearing your sweater? Hm? And jeans? That seems a bit stupid, doesn’t it?” She nodded, pausing her sucking. He pulled his hand away and she let out a long whine. “Then what should you do, hm?” Without much prompting, she took off her sweater and tossed it to the ground and kicked off her jeans along with her shoes. Slowly, he grinned, eyes meeting with her black bra. It wasn’t anything special. Very simple, but the way it was definitely a cup too small and her breasts were pooling out made him push her down. 

“I need,” she gasped out, not believing her own words. But she didn’t stress too much because anytime she fought the thoughts, her head banged. She looked up at him with desperate hooded eyes and her hands grabbed for his hands. “I need…I need….”

“Need what?” he asked, amused. “Hmm, I need you to be very specific.” 

A long belly deep whine left her drying lips. “Dr. Crane, stop. I need, I need it…something. Anything.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, his hand resting on her thigh and inching up. “And how do you feel down here, hm?” He hadn’t expected her to let out a growl and grab for his belt. “Hey!” he scolded, grabbing her hand.  “I’m your doctor,” he teased, hand resting against her panty covered cunt. “Wet…pooling. Ah, you must feel so needy and tingly down here, don’t you?” Desperately, she nodded, pouting, hands still attempting to grab for his belt. “Hey, hey…come on. I’m a professional. I would never. Back down. Ah! Good girl.” He walked over to the cabinet and got a clean glove before walking back over. “Let’s test the severity of this. If I wasn’t aware of your situation, I may have just assumed you were rabid.” He went to pull off her panties, but she beat him to it, kicking them off and propping her legs up. “What a diligent patient,” he commented, pulling up the stool. “Yes,” he nodded, looking over her wet folds. “Your labia appears to be puffy.” When he gave her outer lips a quick pinch, her hips jolted up. “Did you know,” he said, dragging out his words. “That the clitoris is much more than this little nub.” It spread her dripping pussy open with his ring and index finger while his middle rubbed gentle circles over her clit. 

Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she felt this teasing sensation just barely pressing down on her throbbing, aching clit. “O-ohhh,” she moaned out, clenching her vagina walls, desperate for something to fill her. To ease the tension he was making worse, she subconsciously grinded her hips against his finger. “Please-”

“How nice of you to remember your manners,” he teased, pressing harder, rubbing in taunting circles with a constant pace. His eyes watched how her vagina clenched. She was needy for something and he wanted nothing more, but to fill her. He imagined for a moment how he’d take her; bent over, hips slamming into her ass. His hands would be squeezing her beautiful breasts while his mouth would be kissing her ear, whispering all the sinful things. She was white knuckled at the paper thin sheet covering the hospital bed. “Relax,” he told her. “You're trying too hard for release…let it come natural.” She released the sheet and went to her breasts, rubbing and pinching her swelling nipples. 

“Doctor!” she gasped out, hips buckling as she was teetering on the edge of a climax. “It’s been so long, please.” He pulled away his hand and slapped her thigh, pulling her out of her high. She cried, slapping her hands against her face. “Why!?” She was almost angry at him, her eyes glaring his way. But it was all too funny to him. She was still sweating and trying to catch her breath. 

“Tell me exactly what you want,” he said. “Doctor needs to take his notes.”

She swallowed, lip pouting. “To cum. I want to cum. It’s been too long and…and I just-please!” 

“I see,” he said, nonchalantly. “And if you could cum in any way, what way would you like to cum? Sorry, it is all clinical.”

She went to grab for his belt again, but he pulled away reminding her to use her big girl words. “Your…your cock. I want it. I want to ride it-”

“No,” he reminded, leaning into her face with a crooked smile. “I’m your doctor. Don’t you remember? I worked too hard for my license to lose it over fucking a desperate little girl like yourself.” She frowned, feeling an overwhelming sensation of depression. “Shh, it’s okay. Perhaps I don’t always have to be your doctor, but in this room, right now, I am…But! We can continue our finger examination.” He moved from the stool and sat on the examination bed. “Come here.” He barely got the words out before she climbed on him. With two fingers, he eased into her and pumped gently while his thumb rubbed her clit. She was resting over his legs, wiggling and grinding down on his hand. “Go on, it’s your job now.”

“Thank you, doctor,” she moaned out, closing her eyes. He warned her to start easy and allow the pleasure to build. It’d be more pleasurable and satisfying that way, was his rationale. And to his surprise, she did. Little whimpers filled the room as she slowly raised her hips to roll them over his fingers. With one hand, she braced herself on his shoulder and the other played with her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples. He smiled, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip.

“Are these sensitive?” he asked, pinching it with his other hand.

“Y-yes, doctor,” she cried out, fucking his fingers a bit harder, bouncing while the sensation built up.  “F-fuck,” she cried out, his thumb doing the devil’s work…or perhaps, an angles work? He pressed hard, rubbing circles and flicking it. His hand matched the speed she went. “S-hit, shit,” she whined, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her face in the crook. “D-doctor!” Something sinister built in her core. Something so beautiful that she hadn’t felt in such a long time….And she was not going to lose it. She grinded harder to the point there was just a little pain that sent her over the edge. 

“Good girl,” he cooed. “You’re so wet. Are you normally a squirter? I can feel my pants soaking….” She could only answer in an array of moans and grunts. Nothing comprehensible. “You’re going to cum for me, pretty girl. Good girl.” When she went over the edge, she cried out in a silent scream, eyes rolling back. Bucking her hips, she let loose a stream of squirt. Not only soaking his pants, but his shirt. He wanted it all. Her orgasm was washing over her, but he was convinced she had just a little bit more in her. He released her clit, but continued to rub against her gspot. 

“Oh fuck!” She started to kiss against his jaw line. Between them, she let out words that hardly made any sense. A mix of admiration and desperation for the doctor. “T-too much…too much!” He was pushing her past her climax, and it consumed her, overwhelming all her senses. 

“Let a little more out,” he told her. “I know you-ah! Good job!” As he was about to finish his sentence when she lifted her hips and squirted a pool below her. Taking away his hand, he brought it up between their faces. With a pleased smirk, he sucked off the juices, and said, “it’s all clinical.”

[hellenhighwater]

you got zero business calling other people weasels you self-obsessed turd

What part of "I made this as a gift for my dad with no intention of selling it" made you think I was trying to draw attention? I'm not trying to start a shop, I just have been bombarded by requests to buy something I wasn't selling, so I put it up for people that wanted it.

This is tumblr. We frown on art theft here, and the original post said, very clearly, that that flag was a custom design I'd made myself. Instead of just reblogging the post, someone chose to crop out everything except my work and then re-post it without credit. It's since popped up on the social media feeds of several high-profile individuals and companies, and then was almost immediately merchandized by several custom-print tshirt companies, all without any attribution. This annoys me.

Look, just because art is funny doesn't mean it's not art, and I really, really don't appreciate having my work taken and circulated without credit or permission. It would be different if they'd asked. I'm not going to pitch a fuss about it or tell people they can't share the cropped image post, but that doesn't mean it should have happened in the first place.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Tag Lists Changes/Updates

Hey everyone!! So I have to update my tag lists because they're getting really big, and unwieldy and Tumblr keeps glitching my posts because of them.

So, instead of tagging everyone at once, I'll have to tag each group in separate posts. I've made a Master List of Tag Lists and it can be found here.

That Master List is broken into the 4 separate tagging groups: 1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All Characters Jensen Plays 2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only 3 - Any/All Fics Regardless of Fandom/Character 4 - Everything! Incl. Fan Vid Edits

So, over the next couple weeks, I'm going to be circulating and reblogging this post. I'd very much appreciate if you would go to the linked tag lists and:

If you want to stay where you are - lemme know

If you wanna switch to a different list - lemme know

If you don't want to stay on the Tag List - lemme know

If you're not in a list and you wanna be - lemme know

You can let me know by responding to any of the MLs, responding to this post, or by sending an ask.

I have tagged everyone in their respective lists, I've also put a strikethrough through any accounts Tumblr wouldn't let me tag. I'll still add you in the lists, of course, but you may not get the notification.

Thanks for helping me combat Tumblr's goofiness, and I appreciate any and all who enjoy my ramblings enough that you request to be notified when I ramble more. ❤️🥰

[cleverthylacine]

Okay. Wow. (also feel free to circulate this post to people even if they don't like me)

I didn't want to make a post like this but things have gone too far. I am still not mentioning names. If you know you know, if you don't know, ignore this post and be happy that you don't know.

Yesterday I went on a blitz of blocking people I was told had been sharing my private DMs and talking shit about me behind my back with an artist who is freaked out that I told them I wouldn't take down a reblog, and then explained that they are popular with RavWave shippers, and that I didn't know who they were until other shippers sent me their stuff, because their art does look shippy to us.

It seems that a lot of the people who are really mad about this (and you're welcome to share this one post of mine with those people, though I do not appreciate that their friends have been stalking my blog in general) think that I was trying to ARGUE with that person.

Much as their motivation in drawing the art was not to depict my OTP, my motivation in telling them that they accidentally did was not to argue with them about how they should view the relationship. It was information about why people get what is apparently the wrong idea about their art.

If I were writing or drawing something that was being misinterpreted all over creation, I would want to know why.

Then I would be armed with the knowledge to decide whether or not I wanted to do things differently in the future.

"I don't care what those people think" is a valid decision. So is "hmm, maybe she has a point." Whichever decision I made, I'd want to make it as an informed decision.

I feel a little sorry about this giant misunderstanding, but I'm absolutely disinclined to apologise because:

Their first message to me was insulting. Many people believe that it was a "polite request". But polite words can be used in a thoroughly rude and nasty way. There is no nice way to tell someone that you think they're so nasty you don't want your public posts appearing on their blog.

Saying no to requests is a thing that people are allowed to do.

Their second message to me, which evaded my block because it was sent to another account, was blatantly offensive and went into the quality of my family and relationships. I didn't respond to that because I'd have gone off.

They have their friends stalking my blog and have admitted to doing so, and have responded to venting on my part by vagueblogging in my own blogs by telling everyone that they're the person I am annoyed with and here are the receipts. Seriously, wtf?

I only know this because I'm trying to block all the assholes who are reposting my personal conversations with them, a thing i only know because a friend of mine told me so after receiving a demand they unfriend me.

This person and their friends are sending anon asks to my friends, or in one case, publicly demanding in an RP community, that people who want to interact with them unfollow me, because they will not interact with anyone who interacts with me. Go the fuck back to high school, Regina.

Don't put icing and sprinkles on a pile of shit and tell yourself you gave someone a chocolate cake. This person has never been "nice" to me.

Under the cut: why IDW Ravage would never allow herself to be handled like a pet cat, and why RavWave shippers feel the same way about the Earthspark deleted scenes, even though we know that's probably not what the showrunners meant us to think.

I have come to the conclusion that's it's just another case of antis thinking that if you can see two people in a non-platonic relationship that they think of as family, you're just nasty. Especially if the feline shaped character is being handled like a pet cat.

But the person who said "I look disrespectfully on anyone who ships this, that's just a goof and his cat" has missed the entire point of these characters' relationship. Soundwave would never treat or handle Ravage like she was a pet cat.

Anyone else who says RavWave shippers are nasty because "it's NoRMaL to handle your cat that way" is fundamentally not getting who Ravage is and how she feels about being touched.

Ravage is a sapient adult mech with a full range of sapient adult feelings, and touching her like she's an animal is a microaggression or a macroaggression, depending upon where and how you touch her. The oppression of beastformers is a big fucking thing in IDW 2005. Other beastformers also complain about constantly having to deal with unwanted and disrespectful touching. (Fortress Maximus is a known offender.)

IDW Ravage is sleeping in Megatron's bed throughout MTMTE (when she's under it, she's guarding him). She only allows him to touch her neck in front of others...because behaving like a pet cat increases the chances that people will treat her like one.

(She almost cut Nautica several times. That's another character I ship her with, because what would be funnier than her realising that this actually is a whole ass person and if she can't stop touching her, she might actually be attracted to her?)

(Note: Canonically, Ravage in IDW uses he/him, and I do know that. However, about half the fandom writes Ravage as female. I'm in that half.)

BTW, I feel exactly the same way about the Earthspark deleted scenes. Every RavWave shipper on the planet does. We've talked about it. We realise that the artists and showrunners probably intended it to be innocent on the grounds that she is a cat. But we are also people who like to write her as an adult Decepticon officer with agency and self-respect who wouldn't behave like that in front of other people unless they knew he has privileges they don't.

I am aware that half the fandom draws Ravage art that's basically cat memes. (I hate that so much. But as a proshipper, I recognise people have the right to depict characters any way they want. That doesn't mean I haven't had to vent to people like @bitegore and @miner16 to keep myself from saying something.)

Also, I strongly suggest that people who get this worked up about misinterpretations of their art or writing do not become professional creators. As a member of fandom since the 1970s, I'm kind of super extremely aware that most of what fandom does is counter to what the creator intended, and frequently that's the point.

I'm also kind of super extremely aware that if you don't have loads of people reinterpreting and remixing your work and your characters, that actually means nobody cares about your work enough to have blorbo feels about your characters.

(The side poll, which came from another blog and mentioned no names, was an irritated attempt to find out whether people really do think it's normal to cuddle your mom that way, because the second message insinuated that my mother and I must have a terrible relationship because we don't touch each other like that. I kinda wanted to know what people who were not predisposed to take my side and did not know what was going on would think of that idea, because I really do not think most people touch their mothers like that; their mothers aren't nonsapient animals and would thus consider it weird and inappropriate.)

[yoonia]

https://www.tumblr.com/darkwitchgardener/746072202665967616/why-are-some-tumblr-writers-so-fucking-entitled

as a writer do you have an opinion on that? personally i think it’s rude but most people under that post seem to agree but i bet they never post anything

Okay, let's talk about this. I personally do think that this post is not only a weird take, but also rude and disrespectful. let me dissect every part of their nonsense and share my thoughts in this

why are some tumblr writers becoming so fucking entitled?💀 like why are basically forcing people to reblog your work?

Let's look at these tumblr writers, shall we?

Most of us here have real life outside of this site and outside of fanfics. Some of us are struggling to finish school, college, some are even on their way to achieve their PhD titles and yet they still spare their precious time to sit down and write fanfics for free between writing down their thesis and studying for exams. Some others have 9 to 5 jobs, or maybe freelance jobs that don't have a steady working hours (meaning they could have been working 36 hours nonstop without sleep, aka just like me), while also dealing with a spouse or children to take care of in between jobs and they are still writing fanfics for YOU to read for free (ps. when I say YOU here doesn't mean I'm talking to you, sweet anon. I'm directing this to the OG poster and whoever is agreeing with their take)

I feel like looking at this alone, if a writer wants to be entitled to have their work promoted through reblogs, to be circulated around by their readers, and to have any kind of feedback, then they are allowed to. After all that hard work put on a free content, the many hours we spent and the lack of sleep we all get to finish a fic, whether it's 100 words or 100k words, the least a reader could do is show a bit of support or any form of appreciation

(I'm not saying that readers should treat us writers like Gods and celebs either, or for us to be placed on top of a pedestal, by the way. This is an entirely different kind of writers entitlement that I'd love to talk about in a different post, but this isn't the kind of 'entitlement' that's being talked about here, so...)

Why do writers ASK readers to reblog our fics?

Because tumblr's reblog system is the main reason why we chose to post our fics on Tumblr in the first place. Reblogging helps our post to be circulated around, while keeping our copyright safe/still belong to us instead of being reposted by others, and each time anyone finds our fic in their dash, these new people will be directed back to us without any reblogger/reader having to get into any amount of trouble of having to link you back to us or credit us (like reposters on wattpad barely do)

Likes and kudos may help boost our fics if it had been in any other platforms, but the same can't apply here on Tumblr. Because liking a post only helps YOU, a reader, to keep the post that you like to be 'bookmarked' on your 'liked' list. Not anyone will be able to see those liked posts unless you make them public or if these other people would spend more time perusing your blog

I personally don't mind if readers can only leave a like, even if I can't tell if it means you're actually loving the story or you're only bookmarking it to read later. At least, a like on my circulating fic indicates that you've seen my work and that's already enough for me. And I can also tell you that I, as many other writers, will always appreciate deeply those who take their time to at least leave a comment whether it's on reply or an ask if they can't help reblog the fic. Which means, if you can't reblog it, we can't really force you to do it, but we WILL love it if anyone do it

Talking about "Only likes will be blocked"

I have never once seen any of my writer friends saying this on their posts. Do I agree with this? No, not really. But I also don't agree when the OG poster said something about a writer adding this on their disclaimer because the writer thinks they have 'a power over other people's blog'. Like...this is another weird take.

Because for me, the only power that this disclaimer gives a writer is the power to curate their own blog and their audience.

I may not agree with a writer putting said disclaimer (especially when it leads to people clumping them with a bunch of us who don't think this is necessary to do) but I can't fault them by adding this disclaimer on their blog. Maybe this writer has a problem with silent readers or is fed up with the imbalance between likes and reblogs that don't do much in helping boost their fics?

We'll never know what's the reason behind this disclaimer but, I'm going to turn this one back around to the OG poster and their supporters and say, who are YOU to think you have the power to decide how a writer should be running their blog?

I've seen other writers doing things that I don't agree with, but it's their business and it's not my problem how they're handling their blog and their audience. If you can't agree with one writer's way in how they are running their blog, then perhaps you can turn away and support other writers instead? some of us don't bite and aren't rude to others. some don't even care what you do, as long as you're not stealing their work. some others don't have enough energy to do either one of the above and are only here to post fics and have fun (like me lol)

just don't post your shit at this point lmaooo 😭😭

This one is the part that makes me smh the most. Let me ask you this, which one would hurt a fandom community more: when writers or content creators suddenly feel like they have enough of entitled readers and choose to stop posting, delete everything, leaving nothing behind for other people in the fandom community to enjoy, or a loss of followers?

Content enjoyers and readers come and go, we all know this, we've all experienced this, but not everyone is willing to spare their time to write or create content for other people to enjoy. Fandom community will keep growing. New audience will keep on coming. But if nobody is creating anything, what happens to the community? What is there to enjoy?

I agree with you, anon. I don't think this person knows anything about what kind of hard work goes behind a fic or a content. Because if they'd known even just a sliver of what goes behind the scene and how these contents they are enjoying here in this site came to be, they would have never said any crap on what a creator does in order to feel appreciated and supported by their audience

[harpidiem]

Hi! I really like your art and blog, and I noticed that you apparently have been running commission on-and-off for at least a little while, and I was wondering if you had any tips on running art commissions? Any good guidelines, how to get more visibility, etc.

I know it's not really a reliable thing, but I'm in a bad situation health-wise and could really use the money, so any advice you might be willing to share about how to do it better would be much appreciated.

Sure thing!

Well for one you have to figure that most people don't have money to spend on commissions; I certainly don't and commissions are more of a luxury thing to buy considering they're relatively expensive and take a long time, so don't be too discouraged if you don't see much business. I get less commissions around the holidays considering people are buying more important things around that time. I have consistent severe health problems too, and that's the main reason I struggle for money lmao, so I understand.

I've been doing commissions I think for two-three years now? and Im still not sure how is the best way to go about it LMAO my bad. I'd just say

-When you post an artwork, just simply put 'commissions open' at the bottom of the caption, so people are aware you do commissions

-I keep a commission post regularly circulated on my blog and personal side blog. not reblogged day or something so I don't annoy my mutuals (or worse, make them feel bad for not being able to support; I've had to unfollow someone because I felt bad not being able to help after they rbed their commissions page 24/7 and I felt bad fjjsjf selfish I know, but. y'know.)

-I mention it in my bio for instagram, discord, twitter, anything I use.

-When you finish a commission, ask if they're ok with you posting it.

-Start at the lowest possible price, and as interest grows, and your skill grows, raise the price just a bit every so often (I used to charge $20 for commissions, but since my process is now taking me 3-6 hours or more to complete a commission, I raised it to at *least* $40-$90

-Always be friendly and considerate (Im sure you are but. genuinely it goes a long long way)

-Give regular updates (I'm bad about this one because I start multiple projects and work on like. 7 things at a time. God bless people who are so so patient with me). Ask if they're happy with the process every step of the way, and make changes where needed (within reason).

-Always keep them in the loop of you have a major life thing going on that might slow down progress, or admit when there's been a goof on your end. I personally appreciate it when someone keeps me updated, so I try to update others as well >_<

-Just be honest, friendly, and people will know you're reliable. Keep it chill and not desperate, and you'll see business

-I recommend a page on Trello to keep your info organized! I use that for commission rules/guidelines

-Only advertise work you enjoy making. You do not want to get stuck painting if you hate painting! Nothing is worse than being on a time crunch and not even enjoying the process you have to finish

That's about all I have honestly, I just post commission work constantly as my weekly posting and it's been 1. good for growing my skill in the past year because I have to draw 2. people know me for character commissions at a certain point because I post them a lot. I hope any of this was helpful!!

[shpadoinkle-day]

hi again!! its 1st time cannibal the musical watcher again- i might start signing my asks or somethin cus i keep wanting to talk but like you're always sharing such obscure random stuff.. DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE THING YOU'VE DISCOVERED OR FOUND?? specific quote of an interview or a particular photo you've found ???

hiii anon lovely to see you back! feel free to tag yourself if you prefer that way, but either way you're much appreciated 🥰

I have so much stuff I found (I'd say it more like... was lucky to run into while researching 😵‍💫) that I love, but to name a few...

"My lovely wife Matt Stone" aka Trey's BOM speech from Feb 25 2013 at the first west end preview. How I found this: So, sometimes when I'm bored I'll pick a random mattrey blog that's been active for a long time, open an old post from their archive, see if there's old inactive mattrey blogs in the notes, and look through their archive to see if there's any posts I could make resurface that had stopped circulating, right? The funny thing is I'll go on reblog sprees, so I actually hadn't listened to the audio when I reblogged it. I was only informed of what it said when I saw others freak out about it.

Daily Show with Craig Kilborn. Why it's my fav? Well, aside from being adorable and iconic, it landed my youtube channel in the lost media wiki! How I found it is actually quite easy, when you look up fansites on the web archive you can do specific search for the files the web archive has saved from it. Turns out sometimes quicktime files work! Four parts were in canniballovers and one in dtisfu if I remember correctly, I just edited them together and posted it. Still wish someone could find it in better quality though. 😔

I'm gonna list a bunch of pictures now... because there's many. 😭 But my absolute N1 is probably the Halloween Robert Smith Trey picture. How I found it is simple, just looking up random words on facebook. Probably "trey parker", nothing special. This and this from the Ron Jeremy website on the web archive, though I think maybe the second one had already been circulating I'm not exactly sure. Showgirl Halloween Trey. The kiss pictures. Pink haired Trey!! This NATPE (?) picture. These older Trey pics where he's serving absolute cunt. This Lapdance/Sundance (?) pic. And these too. This reverse cap one altho this was from twitter I don't think I was the first to come across it tbh. These three from the "A Million Laughs" fb page... Bowl hat... Trey with the blue umbrella full pic... tho I wouldn't say I "found it" only that I got to it first the day it was posted... Trey in the matching christmas pajama from 2018... I'm gonna stop but my heart is pretty big and I like all pics...

These measly 7 secs of SDCC footage only because of the first mattrey pic included because that pose from Trey is everythinggg.

This oscars clip because Trey does such a graceful hair flip 😭

Le Petit Package pics though all I did was waltz into the lost media thread and see they had been posted...

The forbidden mattrey slides which we may never see... these were all from worthpoint, which is just a website that archives past ebay bids.

Annual Diversity Awards for the Trey serve ofc.

And finally, I'm very partial to "Matt's a cock".

As to how I come across anything... it's lots of free time. Like I'm talking hours daily just picking a random lead and following it. It may be a website you think hasn't been thoroughly searched (I've tried fb, ig, twitter, worthpoint, ebay, wordpress, tripod, weebly, various fansites on webarchive, footage.net, bilibili/baidu, vimeo, dailymotion, flickr, a load of sketchy other websites I don't remember anymore... basically trey parker has brought me to places I wouldn't go with a gun...) a combination of words, a new search engine that may give u different results (I've tried the ones listed in the lost media wiki guide, my favorite is startpage). Using targeted searching like "word" or site:x "word" or "word combo" before:year, basically trying to make google your bitch. I also use gettyimages like a visual wiki of events Trey's been to+the date, it's quite useful... ik you didn't ask the "how" part but aaaa I like talking about it 😭 I have a lot of fun. Even though sometimes I just come up empty handed even after hours of research. More often than not tbh. Also I'm an obsessed weirdo who checks the words "trey parker" daily on twitter, tumblr, ig, fb, yt, web archive and ebay. 🫠

And also the concept of finding is weird because it has happened to me that I thought I had found something and then it actually had been circulating already, so I tried really hard to answer you by only listing stuff I was fairly sure hadn't been circulating before I got to it, but I mean... it doesn't really matter! I'm here to serve, I just like sharing whatever stuff I run into, it'll happen that it's new to me but it really isn't. 😵‍💫 I try...

I like this too also but I didn't find it, it was pretty available already fjdkg you know Jack Shih was at that dodgeball event?

Favorite funfact that I haven't had a chance to share yet, so now you know!

[fizzyxcustard]

Betrayal (17) - FINALE. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Crossover of Spooks and Pilgrimage (Modern AU)

Pairings: Lucas North x OC/Raymond de Merville x OC

Warnings: Love triangle. Angst. Language. Sexual references/language. Cheating. Stalking. Some spoilers from season 9. Su*cide. Grief.

Summary: Amy Holland is Lucas North’s girlfriend of six months. Amy is aware of his job as an MI-5 agent and supports him. However, Lucas’ cousin, Raymond de Merville, has always loved Amy and uses their one night stand together as leverage for something more.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

If you enjoy this fic, please remember that a reblog is always much appreciated and helps us writers out immensely with getting our fics circulated. <3

There is an explicit warning in this chapter for su*cide. Please read with caution if you feel that it something that may affect you.

This will be the final instalment of this fic, so thank you to everyone who has come along on the journey with me. I appreciate all of you so much.

ONE YEAR LATER

Amy crouched at the gravestone, reading the name John Bateman in gold, italic lettering. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she placed a small bunch of white roses into the font. "I'm sorry, Lucas," she whispered. She said those words every day, still carrying the guilt for his passing. In his sheer terror at the thought of being imprisoned again, after living a lie and carrying another man's name, John Bateman, threw himself from the roof of Thames House in London.

Raymond took Amy's hand in his and helped her back up to her full height. "Come here," he whispered, and took her into his arms.

Amy remembered the funeral, a tiny gathering of only her, Raymond and a vicar, to commend John Bateman to ashes and his final resting place. None of his colleagues had come to the service; none of his family wanted anything to do with the man being laid to rest. Only Raymond and Amy showed any kind of care and compassion.

Back at the car, Amy got in the passenger seat. Her eyes remained focused on her hands which were fidgeting in her lap.

Raymond took a deep intake of breath as he got back in the car. Every day and he saw the pain she carried with her, the guilt of Lucas' death. He knew that she blamed herself for not stopping him taking his life. None of the counselling seemed to be helping her, and all Raymond wanted was to see her smile again...properly.

"Aim?"

"Mhmm?"

"He wouldn't want you to live like this, you know?" Raymond said softly, turning towards her. "I think I knew him enough to know that he'd never want you carrying guilt on your shoulders. When he took his life, that was his choice. There was no way you could have stopped him."

"How do I know that?" Amy looked at Raymond with a watery gaze. "Will I ever really know?"

"No, you won't, but his choice isn't something that should define you. Amy, I want to see you live. Don't you think it kills me seeing you like this day after day? Everything that John did was his choice alone. We go over this so many times, and I don't think even your counsellor is getting through to you either."

"I was one of the last people he spoke to, and I heard all that pain in his voice," Amy began. Then the sadness overtook her again, the hole in her gut opening up and outwards.

"Amy, please?" Raymond begged. He reached over the space between them and held her face in his hands. "I love you so much, and I just want to see you smile." Tears also fell down his cheeks. He peppered her face in kisses. "I'd do anything to take this pain from you. Blame me if you need to, just...stop carrying this."

***

A week after Amy and Raymond's trip to London to visit Lucas' grave, Amy stood in from of her bathroom mirror. She looked at the the two pink lines. Positive. It didn't comprehend for the first few seconds, and then she gasped, dropping the white test into the sink with shaking hands.

Raymond let himself in to the two bedroom flat he shared with Amy in Coventry. After a near twelve hours at work, he was ready to have an early night. The flat was quiet, he noticed. Normally if Amy was home before him then music would be playing, and tonight should have been one of those nights.

He placed his keys down onto a small table in the hallway and then followed it down into the kitchen at the end. She wasn't there. He checked the living room. She wasn't there.

"Amy?" he called.

"In here. I'm in the bathroom."

Raymond opened the bathroom door to see Amy sat on the toilet lid. She was holding a small white object in her hand, and she was smiling. It was a contented smile, a smile that made its way to her eyes.

She lifted the object to Raymond for him to look at it. "I'm pregnant," she said simply.

Raymond stared at Amy, speechless. Like her, the news didn't comprehend immediately. And then it hit. He was going to be a father. The second part of his dream had come true. Not only did he have Amy, the woman he loved, but she was carrying their baby.

Amy waited, growing nervous at Raymond's lack of response. Until his whole face changed and he beamed. He grabbed her tight and pulled her to him, and together they kissed.

As they parted, Amy saw tears in Raymond's eyes. "Our little de Merville baby," Amy said, smiling from ear to ear.

Without another word, Raymond got to his knee and took Amy's hand. "I intend to make you one, too. Will you marry me?"

Amy couldn't help but let the sheer joy of what was happening over take her completely. Tears fell down her cheeks, and she threw herself and Raymond into another tight, love-filled embrace. "Yes. I'd want nothing more."

FIN.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @knittastically @meganlpie @luna-xial @middleearthpixie @eunoiaastralwings @asgardianhobbit98 @linasofia @guardianofrivendell @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @xxbyimm @sunflwrnsunnieshine @tschrist1 @quiall321

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Hi 💗 I hope you’re doing well! This is soooo random and might not be much but may I request another roommate Carmy one-shot where he fixes something around the apartment and looks really hot while doing it? So, reader gets turned on and wants to show her appreciation for his handiness, meanwhile he’s like, I’d fix anything for you. And things just get hot and heavy and maybe even kinda fluffy. I’m just on a Carmy binge rn, and I loveeeee how you write him! 🥹❤️

Hands On.

Synopsis - A broken lightbulb leads to some interesting discoveries for both you and Carmen.

Pairing - Roommate!Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. carmen's big ego.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1.5k

Author's Note - thank you for this request!! another roommate!carmy fic <3 this takes place in the roommates universe, but it's up to you if it comes before or after the other fics - there's no timeline!! this one got a little filthy, actually. the roommate series seems to be getting dirtier and dirtier... i would apologise, but i'm not sorry.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

You're sat reading a book on your bed when the room is suddenly plunged into darkness.

You shriek in shock, and Carmy comes running, socked feet sliding on wooden floors through the apartment.

"Honey? You okay?"

He knocks twice before swinging the door open, looking around.

"Why are you sat in the dark?"

You huff and throw your book in his direction.

"I wasn't, until one second ago. The light just went off."

"Did it blow?"

"What?"

"Did it make a noise, when it went out? Did it flicker? Pop?"

"I don't know, Carm. It just kinda... went out."

He grabs his phone from his pocket to use as a flashlight, shining it at your overhead lamp.

"Looks like the bulb has blown. I think have a spare in the kitchen cabinet. Hold on."

He departs, leaving you sat on your bed, unable to see much. There's a warmth slowly building in your stomach, and you take a breath. Why are you so flushed, all of a sudden?

"Here. Got one. You think you can hold the light for me while I replace it?"

You nod and jump out of your spot, grabbing the phone from his hand. You point it towards the ceiling, watching as Carmy reaches up to unscrew the old bulb. His white t shirt rides up his stomach as he raises his arms, exposing his taut muscles. You exhale a shudder of a breath, willing yourself to calm down.

"Honey, can you stay a little more still please? The light is shaking."

"Sorry, Carm."

He winks at you before reaching up again, screwing in the new bulb. You can't stop staring at his arms, his strong biceps flexing as he works. His hands, big and rough, completely dwarf the little lightbulb. You know how those fingers feel as they brush across your skin. Little moments - like him skimming your back as he passes you in the kitchen - are imprinted in your mind, swirling around at a million miles per hour.

You're practically panting by the time he's finished, willing yourself to calm down.

"You okay, honey?"

You don't hear him. Instead, you're watching him run his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. You want to pull it as hard as he'll let you.

A hand on your shoulder startles you back to reality.

"You okay?"

You clear your throat, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Thank you, Carm. Don't know what I'd do without you. Seriously."

He chuckles, running his fingers up and down your arm.

"It's not a problem. I'd fix anything for you."

Your eyes shoot up from the floor to meet his, ocean blue irises focused on your face.

"...Really?"

He looks taken aback by your question.

"Yeah, really. You didn't know that? I'd do anything for you, sweetheart. Genuinely, anything."

You don't think before you move. You lunge forward and connect your lips to his, fingers tangling into his hair just like you imagined.

Carmy kisses you back with more passion than you expected, hands gripping at your hips to pull you flush against his body. He slips his tongue into your mouth as you happily let him take the lead, humming in contentment.

Eventually, you pull back, gasping for air. Carmy rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath.

"What was that for?" he whispers.

"Just wanted to thank you."

"That was a hell of a thanks," he chuckles.

You smile, running your thumb across his cheek.

"You're so fucking hot when you fix stuff for me around the apartment."

"Wait... what?"

"Fuck, Carm. I got so turned on watching you drill that kitchen cabinet last week that I had to take a cold shower."

"That's what does it for you?"

"It's just you. You're good with your hands. It's fucking sexy."

"Yeah?"

He's smirking now, clearly enjoying having his ego inflated. You know you shouldn't, but you continue. You grab one of his hands, running your fingers over the palm.

"I imagine that my hands are yours when I touch myself."

He groans, low and rumbled.

"That's what I think about, Carm. At night, when I can't sleep. Think about the way you'd touch me, the way your hands would feel on my thighs, my tits, wrapped around my throat."

"Fuck."

"I'm surprised you haven't heard me. I try to be quiet, but I'm not very good at it."

Carmen's chest is heaving, eyes dark and watchful. You can see the thoughts forming in his head, filthy and menacing.

"Such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he drawls, running this thumb over your bottom lip carefully. "Maybe we should put it to better use, hmm?"

You whine at his tone, but you're smug on the inside. There he is, you think. The Carmen that you don't get to see very often. The version of him that's domineering, possessive, assertive. You like him like this.

"Wanna see how pretty you look on your knees for me."

You can't say no to that.

You sink down onto the carpet, looking up at him with wide eyes. He looks as if his control is wearing thin. You want it to snap.

"Now what?" you tease.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Play innocent. Not after all that shit you just said."

You smirk, running your fingertips over the tent in his sweatpants. He grabs your wrist, holding it tightly.

"Don't fuckin' tease, honey. You and I both know I'm not patient."

"Something you should definitely work on," you wink, pulling his pants and underwear down his legs.

Your mouth waters as you look at him. He's pretty all over.

"Gonna thank you properly now," you murmur, before taking him in your mouth gently.

Carmy groans, hand flying to the back of your head. He tangles his fingers into your hair, keeping you anchored in front of him. He doesn't force you anywhere, just keeps you still.

"Goddamn, you look pretty with your mouth stuffed full of me," he drawls. "This what you wanted, baby?"

Baby. That's a new one. The nickname goes straight to your core, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache. You nod in response to him, taking him deeper.

"Fuck. So perfect. Fuckin' made for me. Only me."

You nod again, reassuring him you've heard.

"Tell me, baby. Please. Use your words."

You release him with a pop, drool running down your chin and landing on your chest. You take a deep breath, licking your lips.

"I'm yours, Carm. Always have been. I'm yours. This pussy is yours."

You swear you see his knees buckle as he smirks down at you. He looks like the cat that got the cream.

"Gonna fuck you all over the apartment, baby. Every single surface. Doesn't matter if we break something. I'm good with my hands after all."

He winks at you before guiding himself back to your mouth, sinking down to the hilt. You hollow your cheeks and suck, trying not to smile when he practically whimpers. It's a power trip, having a man like Carmy at your mercy.

"Gonna cum down your pretty throat, angel."

You pull away to murmur against his skin.

"Want you to. Please, Carm. Wanna taste you. Wanna swallow it all."

He groans, deep and visceral, as you double down on your efforts, determined to get him to his ending. You dig your nails into his thighs, scratching down the skin as his hand tightens in your hair. The edge of pain is what undoes him, muscles tensing as he spills down your throat.

You catch his eyes, ensuring you have his attention. Swallowing carefully, you stick your tongue out, showing him proof of your promise.

"Good fuckin' girl," he breathes, dropping to his knees to connect your lips, languid and filthy.

Carmy smooths the hair back from your face, placing a tender kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth. Collapsing back against the bed, he pulls you with him, wrapping you in his arms.

"You okay?" he whispers into your ear.

"More than okay. You?"

"I've never been better."

You laugh, and the sound makes him grin, white and beaming.

The two of you sit on the floor for a while, unbothered by the passing of time. You're enjoying being so close, the proximity a welcome change. Eventually, Carmy breaks through the silence.

"So, I've been meaning to mount our TV on the wall... you wanna watch?"

You elbow him in the side, heat creeping up your cheeks as you both laugh.

DIY suddenly doesn't seem all that bad.

@dins-cyarika

[tibli]

There's something I want to talk about that's been on my mind lately, but first I'd like to preface this by saying that I appreciate any interaction with the things I make. But recently I've noticed a MASSIVE rift in the reblog-to-like ratio that seems kind of concerning to me.

Years ago, when I saw a popular post, there were usually 2 or 3 times as many likes as reblogs. that was standard, imo. Not necessarily great but it was still very sustainable.

Now, the gap is WAY more apparent, and this is definitely something I've seen other artists talk about (though it's usually written in an extremely entitled/guilt-trippy way that pisses me off so I dont interact with the post lmao). Anyway, one of my most popular art posts has approximately 10k notes. Which is awesome!! I've never had anywhere NEAR that many notes on my art so I'm incredibly grateful for that alone!!

But of those 10k notes, only about a thousand are reblogs- and dont get me wrong- I COMPLETELY understand that people have their reasons for why they may like something but not reblog it. I myself have had reasons like that before- mainly bc of like. deep-seated feelings of embarrassment and shame that I've struggles with my entire life. So trust me when I say I get it. I've been there.

But tumblr isn't like a lot of other websites. While it does have a "based on your likes" function, most posts are discovered via reblogs and it's a pretty important facet of the site's culture as a whole (and yes, I am willing to say that tumblr has its own culture. I will say it with my whole chest). It's one of the reasons tumblr users are so fond of this place, despite its shortcomings; it's like an oasis in the desert of hypercorporatization when it comes to social media sites. And that is in part due to the way posts are able to circulate on here for years and years.

Anyway, I'm starting to lose the point a bit, but want I want to say is this: if you enjoy a post, consider reblogging it! That's the easiest way to share it with others, and it helps keep the culture of the site alive, while also, of course, giving some exposure to the person you reblogged the post from.

This isn't a demand, and as I said before, I understand why people might refrain from reblogging. This is just me giving a little PSA to those who may have migrated from elsewhere, and just don't really know how the site works, yet.

[sungbeam]

abt the reblog post:

i would love to always show support for my favorite writings on here and sometimes when i cant pick the best words without making an ask or comment 3k words of absolutely nothing, i know reblogging is another option. and this is a bitttt embarrassing to say but the only app i truly really use is twitter so i genuinely dont understand how tumblr works. my thoughts when i saw the previous reblog discussion topic post from a few weeks ago was, “i dont have any followers..how does reblogging help from me?” but i did reblog something after that just bc i wanted you to know i did enjoy the fic as well as show support with reblogging. i did feel embarrassed though bc i was kinda feeling like, “am i really helping? or do i just look stupid?”😭

honestly if i can get an understanding of if im supposed to reblog with specifics things (ie. tags of what the fic consist of) or if im just supposed to reblog with my thoughts on it, i will definitely reblog more often. and i do GENUINELY want to apologize for not reblogging enough but i actually just dont know a single thing about this app☹️ (pls help me..)

ahhh hi love !!! 🥺🥺 thanks so much for asking abt this and caring enough TO ask !! i do realize that a lot of how blr works isn't intuitive AT ALL, so ur def not alone in understanding how the site works! so basically:

- likes r essentially just for bookmarking; that's the convenience of the likes tab in btwn ur posts and followers tabs! it's an acknowledgment that you've read something or that you WILL read something, but it doesn't guarantee anything else or imply anything else to the author/poster (it's a blank interaction atp)

- comments r lovely! i find commenting a little difficult to do nowadays unless it's just for casual convo in the comments, but they do let the author know that you enjoyed reading and what ur thoughts were!!

- reblogs r essentially what keeps fics in circulation (blr has a very not apparent algorithm, so reblogging keeps fics on people's dashes and in the tags)!! not only do they double as letting the author know u liked what u read, but it's also sharing the fic with other people! it prob feels like bc u don't have a lot of followers that reblogging doesn't help, but it tells the author that u liked their work enough to want to share it w other people (plus, lots of space to write ur thoughts! u can always save the reblogged fic in ur drafts too to come back to if u can't get all ur thoughts down at one time)

- asks, for me personally, r prob on the same level as commenting/reblogging? it def has its own perks: i def feel like sending asks r much more personable than commenting, but they let the author know that u liked their stuff and ur thoughts, and it's like a little conversation btwn the two of u! and the anonymous option is also quite the perk for shy readers :') i do love getting asks abt my work, prob on a similar level to getting reblogs, but it varies from author to author! (it's prob a similar sentiment tho)

and just so yk !! i see ur reblogs of my work and i really appreciate it 😚☺️ if ur worried abt a "right way" to reblog, i'd say u were doing a great job! some people organize theirs w tags, other people just yell lol either way is great for the fic author and keeps the community alive!

[hotshotshitshow]

im not trying to be mean forreal but you arent gonna have people rbing your stuff if you don't tag it! 2 give an example your most recent piece has 7 tags total, two of which are personal tags that no ones gonna search so lets say 5. in addition to the ones you included which werent bad you should also include stuff like the medium (ex: #traditional art) and of course #artists on tumblr. tagging aesthetics that fit also goes a long way. plus a (no guilt) caption requesting that people boost your work. something important to keep in mind with tumblr is that its really good for circulating art LONG term rather than most social media platforms which prioritize feeding the neverending ratrace for whatevers trending. I am in no way a big name artist but my most circulated posts come from people tag searching and queueing. obvs theres usually gonna be the most attention over the first few days but also give it time! don't be afraid to repost or find niches who will circulate your stuff. post art and then link it in oc discords, too this isnt meant to admonish you btw more it makes me sad to see you get discouraged. you have a unique and compelling artstyle with genuinely swagful characters so the idea of you peacing out saddens my heart. i hope this helps, cya

Hey first off. I genuinely appreciate this, I am ngl I knew I shouldn't have posted that last night cuz I knew I'd be embarrassed about it later and well!! Here I am, feeling like a damn fool!! Sincerely tho, your words do mean a lot.

However, the one thing that trips me up is that back when I did use Tumblr more regularly, like several years ago, they had made it so that only the first five tags on a post were searchable, and everything else wasn't visible in tag searches. Has this changed? It's been a long time and I have no idea what's changed with Tumblr in the past few years but I've just been operating on the assumption that only the first five tags "count." Also I am just ... Not good at knowing what to tag things other than in the most straightforward way possible 😬

I definitely absolutely get discouraged way way way too quickly and I acknowledge that, it comes from years of a building frustration of posting on social media and never feeling like it goes anywhere while also watching those around me grow their followings. It's come to a point where it feels like if something I post "fails" then it tanks my mood on a hair trigger. And it's not healthy!!! This is largely why I've stopped posting publicly anywhere. Bc the reaction I've built up is so instantaneous and intense that it's completely unhealthy for me. Sorry to vent at you!! It's all just sort of coming out. I've absolutely poisoned the way I view interaction on social media for myself and it feels very entrenched and I don't really know what to do about it.

I want to share my art with people and I want them to like my art and asking for reblogs directly on art posts is something that always felt gross to me but idk maybe that's what I gotta do. I have this notion in my mind tho that if my art is good and people like it, they'll reblog it because they want to, not because I asked them to. It doesn't feel like people are sharing my art bc they genuinely like it if they're doing it bc I asked them to. And then people don't reblog my art, so it gets interpreted as "well, I guess nobody thinks my art is very good, otherwise they'd want to share it!"

This all feels very immature of me and I hate that this is how I feel. I definitely am very deeply in the mindset now of "well, nobody appreciated my art much when I did post it, so now nobody gets to see it anymore." Idk how to grow past this tbh. I am absolutely only shooting myself in the foot. Oh well whatever!!!

Anyway. Thank you again for this, and also if you did actually read this, thank you for your time and energy. I don't think you were being mean at all, you said what is true, I think. I hope you have a lovely day.

[smilingperformer]

Seriously thou guys, I really hope that Gou ends up changing his goal at some point, hell I’d be fine if it was the final episode for him (whenever that would be), or at least adjust his dream a bit, because as much as I do adore Gou’s character nowdays I do NOT like his goal. I mean yeh. He’s a GO trainer insert. But imo not everything from the games should be adapted to anime. I just don’t like the idea of disrupting the flow of nature by catching the Pokémon that are essential to it, UNLESS they SOMEHOW explain that a new legendary comes to replace the caught one to keep the balance up. Like, seriously.

I also have to admit I feel threatened by Gou’s whole presence because he’s taking SO MUCH focus and Satoshi seems like the second wheel a lot of the time nowdays. Why threatened? Because I am honestly falling into the pit of Satoshi getting retired theory. And I hate it here lol

In a sense I wouldn’t mind it, as Satoshi’s had a good run for 20+ years and there’s really not that much to develop with his character anymore, but also, I really just wish the balance between characters was better and that I didn’t feel like the writing is purposely trying to write Gou as appealing as possible so people would focus on Gou’s story instead of Satoshi. I know, this is stupid of me to think about. Thou after hearing how director didn’t expect the need of development for Gou and Satoshi to be so much (really just Gou tbf if we look at the focus episode counts for both, it’s more for Gou), it does explain a LOT. 

I guess I’m just trying to say that despite everything Journeys’ has tried to do, I am still not convinced on Gou’s goal. And I mean his goal, not his character. I really hope he tweaks it.

[wip]

I'd love to see the option to disable likes on a post. As of recently, we have the option to disable reblogs on a post, so now completing the set would be very useful for a number of reasons.

Currently, when people want to stop receiving notifications for a post, they delete the orignal post altogether, a move that is unfortunately permanent and kills a little bit of Tumblr history. Disabling reblogs does stop a post from spreading, but people can still see it and give it a like, so the ability to disable reblogs only doesn't fully discourage people from deleting the original post.

I know likes don't do NOTHING and that they're actually pretty important for how some Tumblr features work, but a lot of creators become frustrated with how many more likes than reblogs they receive, primarily from new users who come from sites where likes are the only form of interaction. Reblogs are what truly keeps a post in regular circulation, a concept that is uniquely Tumblr. Being able to turn likes off might encourage people to reblog things more, or at all, which would lead to an even longer post lifespan.

Maybe it would be funny to turn off likes and reblogs on a post to keep it at, say, 420 total notes forever. Whatever number makes the joke land!

There are plenty of possibilities for why Tumblr users would appreciate this feature!

Hey, hey, @fxa!

We will be straight with you: it’s highly unlikely, as I don’t foresee us ever wanting to implement such a change. Likes are just way too useful a signal for us, and there isn’t really the same angle as disabling reblogs. We’re sorry to say and totally understand the frustrations.

However, if the problem is getting flooded with notifications when a post goes viral, we hear you. We have added the ability to “mute” push notifications for specific posts, and want to expand that to mute activity items on a per-post basis (the API already supports it, we just need to build a useful interface). For more info on this, please check out these search results on our Help Center!

We’re sorry we can’t do more for this ask and thank you for your question. Thanks also to @joyflameball who got in touch with the same.

Love,

—Cyle (Tumblr Engineering)