#do not know what to tag this to be honest

[fishnapple]

The 5th house - What kind of lover are you

About me | Masterpost

As the 5th house is 2nd from the 4th house, it's the tangible manifestation of your core, the creation of your inner emotional world, your heart. From it, your heart connects with the world around you. From it, love is given out to the world. The 5th house is generally regarded as the house of "romance", I think more specifically, it shows your "part" or "role" in that romance, your side of the story, who you are in a love story, what kind of lover are you.

♥ 5th house in Aries/ Mars in 5th house - "The Ardent Lover"

The one who sees love as the purest principle, something that needs to be revered and pursued with dedication and passion. No mind games, no dirty tricks, no manipulation, no timid guessing, just an honest declaration of love. To be the apple in your eyes is to be placed upon a pedestal. Once you're in love, you put your all in, it will be their greatest focus and inspiration. Each heartbreak is followed by rising up with a new hope. Love never loses its lustre to you. You are direct, straightforward and impulsive in your advances. Your passion and desire rule your actions. Competitions and the act of chasing make your adrenaline rushing. You want to "win", victories, whether over other competitors or your own lover, is of paramount importance. The need to conquer can make you seek competition where it's not needed. Can turn indignant and defensive when your love and faithfulness are being doubted. You can be perceived as "aggressive" and "rough" by the more sensitive people. Physical intimacy and physical touch, in general, are key to keeping your love burning.

♥ 5th house in Taurus/ Venus in 5th house - "The Indulging Lover"

Love to you is like honey, natural, nutritious, sweet, fragranced, viscous. Something that you want to dip yourself and your lover in, indulge and sink deeper and deeper into it. Love is simple yet eternal, "never let you go". A true romantic, you breathe love to keep your heart alive. Everything looks more beautiful when you have someone to love, and that someone will be the object of your adoration. You don't go out of your way to pursue someone, has anyone ever seen Venus do the chasing? No, lovers come to you, willingly, because they know that it's futile to resist the lure of Venus. You attract, by being your most beautiful self, by subtly sending signals to all the senses of your person. It can be quite a sensory overloaded experience for your lover. It's not easy to please all of your desires, not easy to turn your heat all the way up, but once it's ignited, it's not easy to snuff it out, fierce devotion. To an impulsive lover, you can seem to be slow and passive, to a patient and passionate lover, you're the forest they want to get lost in.

♥ 5th house in Gemini/ Mercury in 5th house - "The Exploring Lover"

The one who loves with their mind, you can be confused all the time about whether you're attracted to someone simply because you have interesting conversations with them or if there is anything more to that person. Love is a mental pursuit, a chess game, a word play that you want to go on and on. Love is light and exciting. The longest conversation. You show your love by communicating with your lover, to keep the connection line going. Teasing, asking questions, about them, about everything that comes to your mind. "Is there anyone willing to look at my mind and be willing to let me look at yours?". A simple smirk, two hands brushing each other, entwined fingers, a sparkle in the eyes, a hearty laugh and then giggles, those things can melt your heart and in turn, you can melt other's hearts with those. You take your lover to a wonderland, where your minds can be free to play, but also calm enough to rest. Life and love is an endless adventure, and you need a companion who can tag along, who can play juggling with you. Being held down and bored, in any sense, are your greatest nightmares. You want to have sweet dreams only, but nightmares can grab you if you don't focus and pay attention.

♥ 5th house in Cancer/ Moon in 5th house: "The Enveloping Lover"

Love is like a flood that washes over both you and your lover. The shared experience of being enveloped by emotions of all kinds, both the highs and lows, nothing is spared. You search for a lover who can allow you to feel safe enough to experience a love that can feel so engulfing at times. It's that emotional safety, knowing that you can reveal your full heart to somebody, to be spontaneous and moody without being judged. Being loved by you is like being wrapped in nostalgia of a time when everything was simple and pure, when everything was safe and taken care of, there's a childlike playfulness and simple quality to your love. To someone who didn't get to have those actual memories, you can create that memory for them, as if you created an alternative past for them. "Love" is synonymous with "Protection", you want both of you to protect each other, from the harsh world, from the demons inside, to create a home so safe that one doesn't want to get out of, one yearns only for it wherever they go. It's hard for you to let go of a lover, and it's also hard for them to let go of you. The hold may wax and wane, but never disappears completely.

♥ 5th house in Leo/ Sun in 5th house: "The Shining Lover"

Love, the warm sunlight that nurtures your heart. You are like a tree when in love, while artificial light can sustain you. You truly thrive only when you can have the most natural light source, the strongest and purest of them all. Authenticity, a love that doesn't hide or shy away, no hidden motives, no twisted desires, just pure exhilaration, basking in the glow of love. The love you give is unfiltered, as if you're giving your own heart away. Not everyone is capable of taking care of it properly, you learn the lesson of protecting your own heart and be more discerning of whom you can let in. Even then, the natural impulse is to spread whatever goodness inside you, out into the world. Being in love makes your life feel more colourful and lively. And you, in turn, wish to inspire your lover just like how you're inspired, it pains you to see a sinking spirit. You instil vitality into your lover's heart, making their heart beat to the rhythm of life. Some can feel your love too bright and burning, shying away from it, trying to darken it. This leaves you puzzled, you might even attempt to dim your light, but your dignity won't allow you to do that for long. No tree stops blooming just because one or two humans didn't appreciate it.

♥ 5th house in Virgo/ Mercury in 5th house: "The Devoted Lover"

Love is the quiet thunder that rumbles beneath the cool, serene surface of your heart. You want to build a lasting love, yes, "build", love doesn't strike you like lightning that makes you busted into intense fireworks, love is like knitting, one stitch at a time, stitch by stitch, line by line, until you get a cosy sweater that keeps you warm for many years to come, it takes skill and dedication. You also extend that comfort to your lover. To love is to worry, to care, to be there for that person. You would want your lover to thrive, to be spared of the burdens of responsibilities, you're willing to take on those burdens for them, to make their life better. But a truly fulfilling love is when you can receive that same devotion from your lover. You also need to be cared for just as much as you care for them. But sometimes, your lover's love doesn't measure up to the "silent" standard that you have, in a way, no one can love you perfectly like how you want them to. While knowing that, you still choose to be by their side, because you accept their imperfections, their imperfect love, because that's how you love.

♥ 5th house in Libra/ Venus in 5th house: "The Ideal Lover"

Venus's mirror, love reflects back at you all the beautiful things about the world and yourself. You also want to reflect them back on your lover. You can find yourself mirroring your lover, encouraging their shining qualities, making them aware of their own virtues, and simultaneously erasing their vices. You can turn your lover into a prince charming, a lovely princess, because you're one. You want you and your lover to be two beautiful human beings, both inside out, to walk on this Earth hand in hand. The words "we" and "us" have enormous significance to you. You seek to beautify everything, everyone you touch, to let them see the goodness in this world, yes, you're an optimistic lover, never one to lose hope for an ideal love. Love is like a harmonious melody that plays soothingly everywhere you go, everywhere you look. Harmony, peace and indulgence, the gifts you offer your lover, uplift their spirit, inspire their creativity, soothe their soul, and spoil them rotten with sweetness. You find yourself more alive, more beautiful when you're in love. You can fall in love with love itself. You seek harmony with your lover, nothing should be one-sided, everything should be equal give and take, a delicate dance.

♥ 5th house in Scorpio/ Pluto in 5th house: "The Burning Lover"

The molten volcanic soil underneath the calm and cool lake, whose soul is brave enough to venture there? Love for you is an all-consuming force that sweeps away all commonsense. You want love to be a devouring force, swallowing whole both you and your lover into the pit of the unknown. You push for more, to feel more, to be more. The word "mild" can't find a long-lasting place in your dictionary. Everything, joy, pain, longing, existence, all have to reach a boiling point in order for you to feel truly in love. A love too safe, too soft, too peaceful might get ignored by you. You chase the extremes, sometimes along the way, get burnt yourself, but often, you leave behind burnt lovers. You want to be your lover's only one as they're to you. You want to be the only existence that your lover seeks. There can be the issue of who dominates who, who has the upper hand, love can feel like a power play. You're vigilant against betrayals, you need absolute loyalty, making your lover jump through endless hoops to prove their love to you. Sometimes, you could feel so exhausted by the all-or-nothing love, but you would rather be like that than to be content with a "good enough" affection.

♥ 5th house in Sagittarius/ Jupiter in 5th house: "The Expanding Lover"

Have you ever felt like there's an infinite well of love you can give? not just to your lover but to life. You love someone because they're part of life, to love is to live. Love for you is like a ray of sunshine that wakes you up in the morning, or the breezy wind stroking your hair when you're standing in the middle of a field or on top of a mountain, a piney scent that lures you wandering deep into the woods. Love makes you want to move, explore, enjoy, and celebrate. So you can't feel fulfilled in a relationship that makes you feel small, that shackles your feet, that makes you lose hope. "Potential" is the word, as long as you can feel a potential for a future, you want to give your all, to take a gamble. Fortune favours the bold, you will find your luck in love when you're free and adventurous, when you inspire others. A benevolent lover who wants to help, guide, to protect their lover. Grand romantic gestures, spontaneous expressions of love, laughter that makes your cheeks hurt, deep conversations that stirs your mind, those can be the secret ingredients to capture your heart and also what you use to capture others.

♥ 5th house in Capricorn/ Saturn in 5th house: "The Steadfast Lover"

The life investment you make with your heart, love seems like a tangible thing that you can touch, that you can nurture and turn into a masterpiece of a lifetime. Things of value should be able to last for eternity, that's your motto and your belief in love. Love for you is not fickle like the wind or soft like a cotton candy, love is the steady heartbeat, the more you take care of it, the healthier it is. Thrilling adventures, passionate proclamations of love, over adorned for attention, those things pass right out of your vision, what is that? definitely not what you expect from your lover. You expect commonsense and predictability, you expect constant loyalty and devotion, quiet touches and deep gazes, the hand that holds yours when you're in pain, the silent smile that says "I will be here for you, with you". You stoke your fire with unwavering effort, never letting the flame burn out of hands or die from neglect, just enough to keep both lovers warm and safe. Some say you're picky, that you should loosen up and just give yourself to love, but you're a visionary, you look for love that you can work hard for, that can last the test of time, so no rushing.

♥ 5th house in Aquarius/ Uranus in 5th house: "The Whimsical Lover"

"Love at first sight" probably was invented by you. The sensation of being pierced by Cupid's bow, being struck by lightning, being hit by love out of nowhere is not something you're unfamiliar with. Love visits you like a summer downpour, a breeze that sends fragrances from afar to your nose, a sprouting that grows overnight, a laughter that bursts out amidst deadly silence. Love comes to you unexpectedly, and you find love in unexpected places. To love is to be free, the greatest gift you can give your lover and yourself is freedom, to be yourselves, to find safety in the ever-changing current of life. Who can say staying still is safe and stable? For you, movement is what nurtures a connection. You don't let your love stay stagnant, the novelties are your stable diet. Your love is not for the stubborn of heart, though you can be pretty stubborn and rebellious yourself when you're in love, it's a contradiction that perplex and vex your lover, but it's also the allure that they want to get a hold of, not that they will be successful, but they will try anyway. Like trying to catch lightning, trying to grab light. The only way they will ever get close to you is to be themselves and hope that one day, you two will stumble upon each other as fate wills it.

♥ 5th house in Pisces/ Neptune in 5th house: "The Dream Lover"

This is someone who can elevate the experience of falling in love and being in love to the height of poetry, of songs that lovers sing together. Love is art, art is love, love is the soothing balm that erases all the pain, but also the blind that covers your eyes. Oh, the extent you're willing to go in the name of love. Everything seems to take on more vivid colours, music seems to accompany you everywhere you go, you hear your love through the songs that randomly play in the mart, through the absentminded remark of a stranger, through the flowers that sway gently in the wind. You hear your heart echo back at you through the eyes of your lover. While your eyes hold an ocean that promises blissful abandonment, endless treasure and a subtle warning of being drowned, but others are too busy getting mesmerised by you to stay lucid enough to heed your warning. How many lovers have you drowned? How many seas have you swum alone, longing for a rescuer who can take you to land and keep you warm? You need a love story that feels like a fairy tale, but you also need a love that is real.

[apricotbuncakes]

OP is so fucking awesome for including the sexual intrusive thoughts because yeah. People do have them. And they are distressing. But they're one of the types of intrusive thoughts that are hardest to open up about and seek help for, because they're so terrifying to admit you have. Like, even in therapy, I can't admit that I have them because I don't want my therapist to think that I actually want to act on them. I don't!! I really really don't. And having those thoughts are fucking awful.

I have to actively avoid the people I like if the thoughts get too intense, to try and redirect my line of thinking to something else before I can see them again. Because if I don't, the thoughts persist and persist, taking over my regular thoughts until I can't think of anything else but those horrible actions (and this applies to my intrusive thoughts about murder too, not just sexual ones).

People have started saying 'intrusive thoughts' when they mean 'impulsive thoughts' so when someone with genuine intrusive thoughts is honest about what that's like and what their thoughts say, people who have conflated the two assume "oh this person actually wants to act on their intrusive thought". Which yeah, if that were true would be awful in a lot of cases (not all intrusive thoughts are violent acts, such as the mind readers example, but that doesn't mean they aren't distressing or intrusive). But the definition of intrusive is 'unwanted, invasive'. Intrusive thoughts are unwanted and invasive thoughts that people do not want and do not want to act on.

Actually, one of the best videos I've ever seen about this is Thomas Sanders' Sanders Side episode about intrusive thoughts, and how to handle them. It genuinely helped me so much in addressing mine and I always recommend it, because through the acting, Thomas shows what it's like internally to have unwanted and invasive thoughts, and it doesn't shame the people who have intrusive thoughts in the process.

In the episode it's revealed that Thomas' intrusive thoughts are an extension of his creativity, but specifically the creativity he has shunned for being 'wrong'. (This isn't a one to one with my experience, I don't see my intrusive thoughts as part of my creativity, but the rest of this does apply to me). Thomas learns that trying to ignore the thoughts will only make them worse, and that to handle them he has to acknowledge that they exist, but also acknowledge that they don't make him a bad person for having them. Clearly he doesn't want to do the things the thoughts tell him to.

For myself, I've realized the best way to help with my intrusive thoughts is using them for creativity. I use fanfiction and put my intrusive thoughts in them, using my Blorbos to get the thoughts out and associate them with something creative rather than just the actions itself. It's why I have so many fanfics with noncon in them. I absolutely do not condone those actions. I'm just using the fanfics to get the thoughts I don't like out of my head (and I ALWAYS tag them appropriately so people coming across my fics know that there's dark content involved so they can avoid it). I also use them to examine parts of myself with related trauma, assigning aspects of my perspective of the situation to different characters.

It's also why I'm a huge advocate for no censorship in creative works. Because I know that just because someone writes something or someone doing a bad thing, that doesn't mean they condone it. I sure as hell do not condone the actions in my fics spawned from intrusive thoughts, but I still write them because it's a creative outlet, a way to get rid of the nasty buggers. And when I'm done I balance it out with something more positive to take my mind off things.

TLDR; Sexual intrusive thoughts are fucking awful things to have and are very distressing. People who have intrusive thoughts do not want to act on them because by definition the intrusive thoughts are unwanted and invasive.

[saladscream]

Merlin’s penis is unimportant.

Arthur wants to be very clear about that.

Unimportant and as good as invisible. Inexistant.

Well, that is probably not a very fair or flattering way to put it, but Arthur only has Merlin’s best interest at heart. He doesn’t want Merlin’s penis to be thrown around the conversation with such callousness. Some things in life should remain sacred and a man’s member is absolutely no one’s business but his own.

Alas, it appears some scoundrels out there simply have no respect for the tacit etiquette that governs honest men’s lives. But then, this is Gwaine – what did Arthur expect?

And so Arthur doesn’t listen to the bawdy armoury chatter. He doesn’t want to listen.

What if Merlin’s dick is the prettiest dick Gwaine has ever seen?

Forsooth, has the man no shame?! Oh but Arthur knows what the prattler is doing, and he is fairly certain that the man has actually never seen Merlin’s manhood. Gwaine is merely baiting his fellow knights, luring them in with some savoury piece of gossip. And the tragedy is that the others are lapping it up.

It doesn’t take much to convince the evil little rumourmonger to deliver the lurid, improbable tale of how he came to be acquainted with a part of their friend that decency commands should stay firmly out of sight (and out of reach) from the likes of Gwaine.

Which is when the eager audience learns that not only is said dick pretty, but it is also, in fact, large.

‘Hung like a mule’ is the despicable turn of phrase that the wretch uses. And as though the statement required any enlargement, he adds that the cock at hand is rosy and firm and has a majestic upward curve that tilts slightly to the right when keen.

Arthur is of course outraged. To the point where his mouth feels dry and his heart dizzy.

And to his dismay, the other knights won’t shut up now. They clamour for more details and suitable points of reference. Elyan enquires about length, Percival about girth, while Lancelot remains suspiciously quiet and still – and a tad flushed.

In speechless desperation, Arthur seeks Leon’s bewildered eyes for support.

Gentle reader, there are no words to describe the abyss of betrayal that engulfs him when his longtime friend and right-hand man panics and squawks a ‘well, Arthur’s got a big prick too!’

A dubious and rather offensive hush comes over the men, and the only good thing to come out of Leon’s brainfart is that Merlin’s endowment seems to have been momentarily forgotten.

Utterly defeated and terminally mortified, Arthur gets up on stiff legs and glides out of the armoury, his dignity in tatters.

Just you wait until he gets his hands on Merlin. The prat will rue the day he showed Gwaine his privates.

Just you wait.

Merlin’s arse is his.

[Many thanks for the reblogs, comments and likes. They're greatly appreciated! ❤️]

Tagged: @miyriu @neptunesyellowsands @dollopole @shuukichan @merlininthedogpark @kintsugikid-moonysversion @toomanyfanficsbruh @blueliketheclues @solnishkomoon @evedaser @storigami @bertytravelsfar @graceless-angel @knightswaypoint

1 - Merlin's eyes

2 - Merlin's lips

3 - Merlin's hands

4 - Merlin's throat

5 - Merlin's hair

6 - Merlin's ears

7 - Merlin's legs

8 - Merlin's forearms

9 - Merlin's chest

10 - Merlin's penis

[ctrl-alt-bucky]

♡ Aftermath ♡

Simon Riley x Female Reader

You find yourself against the shower wall in the midst of a second round because— well, it's never one and done with you two, is it?

Y'all encouraged it, so here it is: a follow-up to Release! Highly recommend reading that first for context, but you won't be too lost without it tbh. This one includes more focus on you ;) Enjoy!

Posted on: 2/7/25 | Words: 2,073 | Tags: fempov, shower sex, foreplay/build up, fingering, breast play, cunnilingus, very minor pregnancy scare, standing doggy, mild choking, mutual orgasm

We’ve got some work to do, Ghost had said as you extracted yourself from the slippery table and honest-to-god waddled, like a penguin, with your hand cupped between your legs over your cargos as if that’d somehow stop the mess from flooding your ruined panties.

Apparently that work was worth putting off another couple of hours.

Ghost has you pushed up against the wall of the shower, the cold, slick tile pressing to your warm skin as water cascades around you both. His stubble is rough, no doubt leaving behind pink marks on your chin and underneath your bottom lip as he licks into your mouth like he's making it his mission to claim your insides.

As far you're concerned, he already has.

Steam obscures half of your vision when you open your eyes. Simon's chest is rising and falling rapidly, the skin dashed with lines of scars and dotted with healed bullet holes. His hands, previously holding your waist to keep you from slipping back, cup your breasts and lightly squeeze, thumbs rubbing over your hardened nipples.

You tangle a hand in his short blonde hair and bite your bottom lip. It's far too late to reel yourself back in. The calm and controlled soldier everyone knew you as was shattered in Ghost's eyes; you were sure of it. He's the only one to see that facade falter— the only one to snap your resolve, lose you in pleasure, and make you nearly beg for more. And in a way, it isn't one-sided.

Ghost's brown eyes are intense when they meet yours. The way he's looking up at you is foreign. Where he usually towers over, he's bent now, his face inches away from his grasping hands as they squeeze, release, and squeeze again. While it isn't direct stimulation, nothing compares to the heat buzzing between your legs— itchy, almost, with need. That's the only way to describe the feeling: as if it's a deep scratch in need of relief, pulsing with heat and blood and the primal urge to soothe.

But Ghost must understand this. You only know it, because he seems to be purposefully holding off from doing what you want. The bastard.

Your hand tightens in his hair and you watch as a subtle grin grows on his kiss-bitten lips. Christ, as if the mask wasn't bad enough, he's even more attractive under it; No room to speculate on what the crinkles of his eyes mean; You can see exactly the type of amused expression he proudly sports.

“Simon.” You huff.

“Mm?” Ghost hums, playing dumb. He kisses the side of your breast, then flicks the tip of his tongue over your nipple and grins again when it knocks a puff of air from your lungs. Sensitive, your body screams. Go too long without stimulation and look what happens— you react like a virgin now. How embarrassing.

Ghost's breath isn't as warm as the steam or water, but it still tingles your skin as it travels further down. He's a bit clumsy as he fits himself between your legs. The shower isn't exactly made for two people, what with the built-in lip of a tub surrounding the small square of space, but he somehow manages to sit, kneeling, on the backs of his ankles as his broad body forces your stance wider.

Water runs down Ghost's back and flicks droplets off the top of his head onto your skin. It makes his hair stick to his face, so your thumb idly brushes away the front strands to expose that amused, hungry gaze of his again. Except he's no longer looking up at you— his focus is entirely captured by the mess still leaking from your pussy.

Ghost's cum, inside of you, dripping down the insides of your thighs, getting washed away bit by bit from the droplets tracing your flushed skin— you realize you're blushing from head to toe, even though compared to all the other things (namely, potentially alerting the team as you screamed and came on his dick earlier), this wasn't much to get worked up over. But it's the thought of being marked in a way you never obtain, so intimate and risky, fuck, it didn't even occur to you once that your coupling was unsafe. Sure, neither of you are getting laid around here— that's half the reason you climbed him like a tree the second he caved— so there's no real transmission risk.

Pregnancy, however?

You push the thought away as soon as it strikes. There's no way in hell that can happen. You won't let it. You won't—

A sharp pain in your inner thigh rips you from your spiral.

Ghost's eyes are curious, but his expression is concerned. His thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips as he stares up at you questioningly. Before he has a chance to ask, you stammer,

“I-I'm not on the pill.”

Ghost’s expression doesn't waver. In fact, his lack of reaction just makes the panic tightening your chest feel all the more restricting.

After far too many tense seconds of silence, Ghost lines his fingers up to your entrance, pointer and middle pressed tightly together, and he murmurs,

“Let's get it out then, hm?”

You hardly have time to process what exactly he means before his fingers plunge in, slickened by the cum, yours and his, and the wetness already inside. At this angle, the pads of Ghost's fingers rub right over that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of your quivering walls. Gasping, you throw your head back against the tile wall and hope to god your legs don't give out beneath you as he makes a scooping motion with his fingers while he sloppily thrusts them in and out. Each curl sends shocks of electricity to your core, the buzzing, itching need deep within you returning insistently within seconds.

The bastard.

You bring your hand up to your mouth to cover it— an action you probably should've thought of prior to the shower. Your hips buck uncontrollably, twitching with unreleased energy as Ghost builds a steady rhythm, in and out, the sounds sloppy over the rushing of the water, lewd in ways that make your brain feel like it's going to turn to mush.

And then you decide to look down.

Not only is the squelch of your cum-soaked pussy loud enough to hear, but so is the equally hot sound of Ghost's hand on his cock, which pumps in time with each thrust of his other fingers. It's a bit uncoordinated, but his focus is strong. If it weren't for the shower, a sheen of sweat surely would be forming over his tense, rippling muscles and veiny arms. Ghost’s eyes are half-lidded, but they close as he leans in and runs the tip of his tongue over your clit.

You jolt, groaning, and he does it again, tonguing the sensitive nub in slow circles. The stimulation is so direct it’s almost painful, but you don’t stop him. God, you’d be insane to.

Ghost’s tongue goes flat while his fingers curl in, the wall vibrating with the sound of a thump as the back of your head hits it. Eyes squeezed closed, you feel your thighs trembling as your orgasm builds and builds. What finally pushed it over the edge, the final straw that has you grasping at Ghost’s hair and gasping for air, is when he seals his lips over your clit and sucks while he flicks his tongue rapidly back and forth.

Your pussy spasms, each pulse clenching down around his thick fingers while they rub and rub and holy shit you might actually pass out from this—

“St-Sto- ah!” You push at Ghost’s head as the pleasure turns into a sting of overstimulation, and reluctantly, he tips it back to look up at you, an expression of pure hunger in his eyes. A second later, his fingers follow, which then join his hand as it grips your hip tightly. Ghost stands up, his body knocking yours in his scramble. You have no idea what he’s planning, but he’s feral about it, spinning you around against the tile so fast that your feet lose their balance for a second or two. But it doesn’t matter because Ghost is there to catch you, to steady you, as he always is.

You can’t recall a time where he wasn’t there for you.

Ghost’s stubble is rough on the juncture between your left shoulder and neck. He bites down gently, teeth scraping the skin lightly; a message that he could mark, but he won’t.

But Christ, you really, really wished he would.

And then his tip is at your pussy, clumsily rubbing between the folds and over your clit. You reach a hand down, but only the tips of your fingers can actually touch at this angle. Regardless, you manage to guide him in, and it’s a long, smooth slide that’d embarrass you if it weren’t for your foggy brain. A part of you internally wonders if it was his cum still slickening you up or if your body really was that greedy and easy for his cock.

“That’s it,” Ghost murmurs in your ear, his voice low, rough. He pulls his hips back by an inch and thrusts back in, hard, like he’s trying to wedge himself impossibly deeper. “Atta girl. Just like that.”

You cry out a mixture of his name and whatever gibberish your brain supplies. All you know is that you’re slurring— begging?— while Ghost fucks into you in short, sharp thrusts, chasing his own pleasure without a care in the world for yours.

One of his hands leaves your hips to rest upon your neck, his thumb in the dip of your throat. He grips lightly, but soon he begins to squeeze tighter and tighter the louder you cry out. Head fuzzy, you rest your cheek against the tile and do your best to breathe with what little oxygen he supplies you. Even without him restricting you, the air is clouded with steam, making the tiny space even hotter. At this point, water isn’t the only thing dripping down your forehead.

The slap of Ghost’s hips against yours is muffled under the water. He turns, his big, strong hands sliding down to tightly grip your waist like you’re his own personal fleshlight, and he bites down on the juncture of your neck again and sucks, teeth grazing the skin, as you feel his movements stutter. Your face is no longer against the tile, freed only briefly so that you can gasp in air and scramble to flatten yourself against the wall while Ghost grunts out an order to stay still.

Cock slipping free, you see Ghost’s arm jolting furiously as he jerks off. He slaps the tip against your ass every so often, smearing pre-cum that gets washed away a few seconds later. Ghost’s eyes are hungry, his chest heaving, and you’re no better. Christ, the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins while you arch your back and wonder, briefly, if shoving him back in was worth the risk.

You don’t have the chance to decide for long, however, because then Ghost is holding you steady and breathing out a low curse as his cock spurts short ropes of cum onto your flushed skin.

“Oh fuck,” You pant weakly.

Ghost makes a noise like he’s agreeing with that sentiment.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, letting the tension flood from your body; Tension that you weren’t even aware that you held until it became suddenly clear that the ache between your legs and in your thighs might just not be completely from desire.

Groaning, your left hand reaches for the handle and turns it, shutting off the steadily cooling water. Ghost chuckles behind you and you roll your eyes.

“What?” You mutter, unable to help a smile.

“You sore?”

You shove at Ghost’s bicep weakly and he chuckles again before stepping over the lip of the tub onto the bath mat. A towel gets wrapped around his waist, the other one getting tossed over you. With a huff, you wrap it around your shoulders and join him.

“Might need to work on your fitness regime.” Ghost comments. You realize, strikingly, that he looks at ease for the first time since you’ve met.

“I wouldn’t mind daily lessons.”

Ghost turns to you, amused.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Any specific kinks you wanna see in the future? Lemme know in an ask! As always, prompts/requests are open! Check my ficlist for more, my AO3 for additional fics, and thanks so much for reading! ♡♡♡

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: nerd!anakin x f!reader

It was Valentine’s Day, and you were nervously sitting in your first-period class, the one that teacher was too tired to conduct. So here you were, tapping the pen to the rhythm of the music in your earbuds, just when the door opened and in walked ANAKIN SKYWALKER. He was too early, eyes wide as he scanned the room, and there was something a little off about the way he walked towards your desk. You looked up, raising an eyebrow, confused and filled with curiousity.

He grinned sheepishly as he stopped in front of you, holding something behind his back. Cheeks flushed a shade of red that made your heart race and throb.

“Hey... uh,” he started, shifting from foot to foot, “I know we’re kind of in the middle of class, but I, uh... I wanted to give you something.”

You furrowed your brows, still confused. What on earth was Anakin doing?

Before you could say anything, he carefully pulled a little bouquet of LEGO flowers from behind his back. Each petal was a different color, perfectly symmetrical, the craftsmanship clearly done with so much love and attention. Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Anakin,” you whispered, eyes wide in awe. “You... you built this?”

He nodded vigorously, trying to keep his cool but failing miserably. “Yeah, I thought it would be different. Y’know, special...like you..But... do you like it?” His voice was low, almost shy

“I love it,” you replied, smiling softly. “You built this for me?”

“I—of course - yeah,” he said, looking down at the flowers as though they were the most precious thing in the world right behind you. “I spent... a lot of time on it..to he honest..You’re... special...as I said..So-uh- I wanted it to be perfect.”

“Anakin, this is amazing.”

His grin grew wider. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”

You laughed softly, reaching up to touch the flowers. “I’m not. Thank you, Ani.”

Then, as if on cue, he pulled out a second bouquet—this time, real flowers, bright red roses and daisies—before placing them on your desk with a bashful smile. "And these are... uh, just 'cause," he added, looking down at the ground.

“You’re spoiling me,” you teased gently, reaching for the flowers, still in awe of how thoughtful he was.

“N-no,” he stammered, shaking his head. “I... I just wanted to make today special for you. It’s... Valentine’s Day, and I—well, I--" he took a sharp breath in "I love..you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his quiet confession. “I love you, too,” you whispered back.

After classes, Anakin was practically dragging you by your hand to the LEGO store. He didn’t even try to hide his excitement. It was adorable to watch as he pulled you through the aisles, practically vibrating with energy.

“This way!” he said, squeezing your hand as he led you to the custom build section. “I wanna make us.”

“Make us?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” face lighting up. “You and me. I’ll make you. And you can make me.”

You both sat down at the station, and he immediately got to work, expertly assembling the pieces for your little LEGO figure. You, on the other hand, took your time, teasing him with little glances as you slowly put together the figure of him.

When you finally finished, he gave you a playful smirk. “You, uh... did me justice, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” you teased back, carefully attaching the head to the torso. “Look how handsome you are.”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling. “You’re just too good at this,” he murmured.

Once they were finished, he attached his to your keyring. “You can carry me around wherever you go. I’ll be your little mini me.”

You smiled, taking your keyring and attaching his LEGO figure to your bag. “I’ll always have you with me for now on"

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @nikiloveshayden @cloverina

[dvar-trek]

Wanna fill time before the Super Bowl? Charmed by dumb boys barking at each other? Wanna watch a very good hockey team play really bad (probably)?

Come to my Washington Capitals Liveblog Party!

Pictured: The Washington Capitals huddled together and cowering from Elvis Merzļinkins (okay so this is a picture of last year's caps. but it is still a vibe).

This Sunday afternoon, February 9th at 12:30 Eastern, the Washington Capitals will host the Utah Hockey Club!

Thank you to @puckpocketed for consulting on the party planning! Here is my idea:

People have been expressing interest in the top-tier vibes the Caps have going on, and I welcome you all to bandwagon my beautiful, silly team 💕 Since this is one of only two NHL games on Sunday, it's a perfect time to pop in and check it out.

To be honest, I don't know if the Caps will play well on Sunday or not. But I'm guessing not! You may have noticed they are at or near the top of the standings lately. You may think they are a good hockey team. And they are! But they are also a fundamentally silly hockey team. And considering that: • it's the last game before 4 Nations • exactly none of them are going to 4 Nations • so they will probably all already have vacation-brain • and they get shy if you look directly at them—and I am inviting you all to look at them I am not exactly anticipating their best work. but! they are fun to watch anyway!

What to expect:

If they are playing good: they like to play a strong, defensive game. They get a one- or two-goal lead and lock it down and don't give the other team room to breathe. If you're a fan of the other team, this is apparently boring to watch. If you're a fan of the Caps, it is delightful to watch your boys doing big hits, breaking up plays, and making the other team so, so mad. And maybe get a couple exciting goals while we're at it—like from the Big Boy Line (Aliaksei Protas, Pierre-Luc Dubois, and Tom Wilson) (you must be this tall (6'4) to ride). or from Teen Dad and Best Connor Mc- in the League, Connor McMichael. or from. you know. the greatest goal-scorer of all time. if we're lucky 😘

If they are playing bad: it is often in a way that is nonsensetown goofy. They take a too many men penalty, and then they take another one while they're still killing off the first one. They do. uh. whatever tf this is. They do drop passes to no one, and they fall over for no reason. Exactly 2 guys (usually Dylan Strome and the goalie) earnestly try and, like, do their actual jobs, while the rest of them lope around the ice like they've never played hockey before.

Either way: they're a lot of fun! We will hopefully get a post-game video of horny barking, and we will definitely get a pregame video where they yell nonsense at each other in the tunnel. Prime examples of both below.

See you all on Sunday in the '#caps lb' tag!

[stealingyourbones]

I’m fine with posts about my Blorbo getting ignored. It happens. We all know that. It’s disappointing, but you get inspired, start plotting, maybe even start writing yourself, lose motivation, and stop. It’s normal. It happens to all of us. Not a big deal.

But. BUT. BUUUUT. What drives me fucking insane is when some beautiful creative once-in-a-lifetime hand crafted prompt gets derailed into the generic stereotypical tropes that this crossover fandom constantly falls back on. I know that happens to you a lot, how do you deal with it?

In truth, when you sign up for creating content that you allow anyone to interact with, it’s just a part of the gig. It happens a lot, I may not enjoy it but others do and a community of people writing and having fun is what I strive to create.

My main ways to divert posts are either:

1.) Leave it be and let folks do their thing. The point of prompts is to let anyone add their thoughts, it doesn’t matter your personal feelings on a trope or headcanon.

2.) Simply stop interacting with that reply chain. I used to reblog absolutely every reply I got but now I only reblog the ones I enjoy. It has helped my mental health greatly. Additionally, if you don’t reblog responses to your posts, go and do that. It makes people more likely to see the responses you like if they already follow your blog for your writing and you’ll have a higher likelihood of that prompt gaining more replies.

3.) Put in the tags (#not ____ AU/trope/headcanon). I’ve done it a few times before with Ghost King AU’s I believe, mainly because I think that avoiding that trope for that particular post would make people flex their creativity more and write something they wouldn’t even have thought of if not given that limitation. This will sometimes work. Some folks reblog the post without the tag and the trope is posted anyways. People also might see the tag and think you’re being picky and rude and avoid the post entirely.

4.) Complain. I don’t really recommend doing this because people will Not Be Pleased but I am 100% guilty of doing this more than once. I have been pretty vocal on making my opinions clear on: Danny and Bruce’s relationship could also be something other than paternal, the automatic adoptions tropes, Ghost King AU’s, OP Danny, and not consuming some form of DC media is nigh impossible and actively avoiding it prevents you from learning about new characters and giving you new interests and ideas to spread and influence the fandom. This is the second least effective action to do. The first being saying nothing. Venting might be a good way to express frustration but let’s be honest, no one wants to listen to or read someone complaining for a few hundred words when they could be consuming a positive take on something they enjoy. For example: this post might get like 50 notes maybe max. It’s not a topic people like to read of and it’s critical on the things they like so they probably won’t interact with it.

5.) Add back onto your own post or another persons post with the idea of how you thought the post should have gone! If you don’t like the angle other folks are going at it, write your own thoughts on the prompt. A few solid paragraphs of ~500 words are what I have seen work the best in influencing and changing the direction of replies to a post. This is the best course of action to have people write another direction in tropes you enjoy and ideas you view are fresh and new. It might not be people’s favorite response to hear, but if you want a story to go a particular way, you have to write it yourself and hope the audience receives it well and picks up what you’re putting down.

6.) Write something similar again and hope a different audience receives the post and interprets it differently. Add a different spin on the concept and maybe add the (no ____) tag if you really really want something different.

I hope these tips help! Main takeaways if you don’t want to read everything: Complaining solves nothing and action solves everything. If you don’t like the way a post is going, write it to the way you want it to be.

[my85volvo]

Part 3! I'm still working out how Tumblr works so I'm not sure if I have to tag @renmackree again? Or will you just see my update? God, I'm old.

The priest banged his head against the bed frame behind him in his scramble to move away. Simultaneously, the new follower sleeping in the bed jolted up and whipped his head around to stare directly at Derek before recoiling against the wall.

Derek was taken aback by the boy's hostility. Even the new follower seemed upset. Did he not do exactly as was asked? He left at the boy's command. He wore clothes befitting of his status--he had been more than accommodating. If this were 3,000 years ago, he would have easily found another to fill his role. But, as it stands, the old god needed him. And judging by the state of the accommodations in front of him, the boy needed him, too.

“Dude, do NOT wake me up like that anymore,” said the priest.

“Why are you so upset?” Asked Derek. “I did as you requested.”

The new follower was the next to respond.

“Um, what?”

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, annoyed that these humans were so vexing.

“It's him, Scott. My hallucination,” the priest explained.

“He's wearing clothes.”

“That's all you have to say about this? He teleported into your room!” The priest flailed his arms for emphasis.

“He probably walked through the door!”

“How did he even know where I was?”

“Dude, you only go to, like, 3 places. You're not hard to find.”

“Eh-hem.” Derek cleared his throat to get their attention.

They looked like grown men, but apparently, it was acceptable for men of this era to bicker like children in front of a deity.

They both looked up at him expectantly.

“Now, today you are to receive my blessing as high priest. And you--"Derek looked at the new follower on the bed. “You may receive a boon as well since I am feeling generous. Though you will not delegate my priest to the floor again, as his station is far above yours. Understood?”

The new follower looked at him as if he had brown two heads.

“Amazon slipper orchid,” the priest declared, still seated at his feet.

“Pardon?”

“Prove to me that you're a god. Find me a living Amazon slipper orchid from the Rainforest.”

Derek crossed his arms and scowled.

“I am not an errand boy.”

“You asked what it would take to build my faith. This is it. no more tests.” The priest seemed honest, so Derek acquiesced.

“Fine. And then you will receive my blessing?”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Very well.”

Derek closed his eyes and concentrated on the beauty and lifesource of the flower. The last time he walked the earth, the people called it Lady's Moon, but its loveliness had not dwindled at all since then. When he willed himself to appear before one, the crisp forest welcomed him under a canopy of verdant leaves. Gingerly, he uprooted the flower from the remnants of a decaying tree, imbuing strength into the roots and protection through the stem.

When he stepped through the veil to return to his meager flock, he found the two men bickering. Again.

“I'm just saying, you can't trust him, Stiles! You don't know anything about him!” Cried the new follower.

“Dude, he's magic. Real, bona fide, hogwarts-level magic. How is your mind not exploding right now?”

“What if he wants to sacrifice you to his dark master or something? What if–”

“Eh-hem.”

They were both seated on the bed now, and at Derek's interruption, they both whipped their heads toward him. Their expressions were wide-eyed and weary, as if they were children caught stealing sweets before supper.

His priest was the first to speak.

“...you found it. You really found it,” he said with a chuckle.

“Did you doubt me, priest?”

“Yeah, actually. I kinda did.” The priest reached out to touch one of the delicate petals, but he thought better of it at the last moment and withdrew his hand. “And it's Stiles. My name, that is. Not priest.”

“Stiles,” Derek repeated with a smile.

“Um, excuse me, but we don't want anything to do with gods or magic, okay?” The new follower glared at him in defiance. “So you can go find some other priest and leave my friend alone.”

“That's Scott, just ignore him,” said Stiles with a wave of his hand.

“Stiles!” Scott threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Hey, could you conjure up a pot or something?”

“You said no more tests,” Derek said, eyeing him with suspicion.

“It’s not a test. I just don't want the flower to die while we wait.”

“Please, Stiles, can we just–” Scott interrupted.

“The flower is strong. It will be fine for many days,” Derek spoke over him. “You can place it upright in one of those empty tins if you like.”

Derek nodded towards the beautifully painted, deep red canisters stacked on the ground near the window.

“Alright, Dr. Pepper house it is.”

Stiles grabbed a can and shook out a few drops of liquid into his mouth, then motioned Derek to help him transfer the flower into its new home. Scott continued voicing his grievances while Derek ignored him.

“Dude, come on, you can't seriously be listening to this guy! He's dangerous!” Scott whined.

“He's hot, and he brought me flowers. Best first date I've had in a while, honestly.”

Stiles was still carefully stuffing the long roots into the can while he spoke.

“What if he hurts you?”

“I would never,” Derek growled. “He is my anchor to this world. To hurt him would be akin to cutting off my own arm.”

“Really? That's so sweet,” Stiles smiled.

Derek felt a grin come unbidden at the priest's words. Finally, Stiles was beginning to trust him.

“STILES!” Scott yelled, frustrated at his lack of influence.

“ENOUGH,” Derek boomed.

He spoke from deep within his body, letting his power bleed into the command. The window rattled, and the stack of painted cans toppled over at his voice.

“You may not command my high priest, boy. You are but a follower, not a ruler. Know your place.” Derek wouldn't tolerate the mistreatment of his own, no matter how ignorant they may be.

“I'm not your follower,” Scott said with a quiver in his voice.

He was clearly afraid to stand his ground, but he was still fiercely loyal to his friend. Derek admired his loyalty, though this misplaced tenacity was frustrating.

“Okay, let's all just take a breather here,” said Stiles. He had finished placing the orchid and was now holding his hands up as if to separate him from Scott. “Wolf of the Wool, please don't be mean to Scott. He's my best friend, and he's just looking out for me.”

Derek glared in response but said nothing.

“And Scott, I will literally explode from curiosity if I don't hang out with this guy and get some answers. Magic is real. This is my life now.”

Scott cast his head down, defeated. The three of them sat in uneasy quiet for a brief moment before Derek broke the silence.

“It's Wolf of the Wood,” Derek said.

“What?” Asked Stiles.

“You called me Wolf of the Wool. I am the Wolf of the Wood. You should know the name of the god you summoned.”

“Oh yeah, that makes more sense. But I definitely didn't summon you, dude.”

“Don't call me dude. And you swore an oath to me, then left an offering at my altar. What was your purpose if not to revive me from my slumber?”

“Did you…summon me by accident?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Derek cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Stiles was silent for a moment, staring at the ground and appearing to be in deep concentration. He finally looked up with a sheepish grin on his face.

“Whoops?”

Derek felt his face fall. All his excitement over coming back to earth and...he wasn't even wanted? Did Stiles believe in him at all?

"Did you ever want my blessing?" Derek said, his voice despondent.

"Um, not particularly?" Stiles must have felt pity for him, because he quickly amended his statement. "But I'm sure it's a great blessing! The best blessing! You can totally bless me, if you want. I'd be honored."

Stiles looked up at him, hopefully.

"You probably don't have anything prepared."

"Okay, what do I need to do?"

"This is stupid," Scott interjected.

"Different ages had different ceremonies, usually involving the whole tribe," Derek started, ignoring Scott's comment. "At the very least, there would be some sort of goblet or bowl of special significance that you would use to drink my blood--"

"Hard pass," Stiles said quickly.

Derek frowned.

"I mean, um, is there like another way to get the blessing? One that doesn't involve me swallowing your bodily fluids?"

"Of course. We can copulate."

"No way," Scott said.

Stiles was silent, but his face was turning a furious shade of red.

"That's, um, well...it might be worth a try," said Stiles, looking down and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Stiles, you can't be serious."

"Scott, did I get in your way when you were adamant about taking home Allison Argent even though she's definitely in a crazy murder cult? No. So don't cock block me."

"That was different, and you know it. She wasn't going to hurt me."

"She had a crossbow and handcuffs in her car. At school. At least this guy doesn't have any weapons. You don't have any weapons, do you, Mr. Wolf God?"

"I have no need of weapons."

"See Scott? It's fine. But...I'm not really, um, experienced with that stuff, so can we get to know each other first?"

Derek scoffed, as if the idea was beneath him. Honestly, this entire situation was beneath him. Since when did he have to beg to bestow a piece of his power to a lowly human? Would it be better if he just left, waited for the human to die, then went back to sleep? A part of him hated that idea. He yearned to experience this world with his new priest.

While he should be furious that humans were treating him with such insolence, he found that he couldn't fault Stiles for long. The boy was honest and pure, and Derek could tell that he had no selfish motives for power whatsoever. It was refreshing to have a high priest that didn't lust after position or status. It was...entirely new, actually. As frustrating as the boy was, Derek couldn't deny that he wanted to keep him close.

"Listen. If you won't take my blessing, at least take this."

Derek withdrew a small vial from his jacket pocket, plucked a hair from his head, and carefully closed it into the small tube.

"Having a piece of me close will connect us. You can call me, and I will come. If you are injured, swallow it to heal yourself."

"Um, thanks?" Stiles took the offered gift with some confusion.

"I was serious when I said I would not harm you. As my high priest, my blessing would protect you from aggression or disease. Without it...then it falls to me to protect you."

Stiles gave him a look that was somewhere between longing and sadness. Perhaps he was finally understanding the gravity of the situation.

"Yes. Until you choose to receive the blessing...if you choose to at all."

"So, now what? You just hang out in the woods until I call you?"

"Sounds boring."

"Yes, a bit."

Derek waited patiently while Stiles chewed his lower lip in thought, and Scott continued to scowl at them both. After a moment, Stiles seemed to muster up the courage to speak again.

"So, ummm...wanna go out for breakfast?"

That's it for now, I think! I really liked this prompt, and now I want to go back and rework a few things from the earlier parts. I’ll be adding this to my Ao3 WIP list, because I am physically incapable of writing something under 10k words, and it's getting a bit long for Tumblr. I was really happy to get some encouraging words in the tags, so thanks!

Derek is the old god of the forest, forgotten and unworshiped for centuries. Towns were built around his forests and the alter where once offerings were laid has been overgrown. Derek believes himself to be lost and resigns to an endless slumber.

That is until a college kid stumbles on his alter and offers the large stone wolf a piece of his sandwich.

Now, awake and once more worshiped, the god must protect his new high priest Stiles at all cost. Which means blending into a world he knows nothing about. And going to college.

[monvirtu]

Romantic headcanons for elquackity?

𝐌𝐈 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑

⋆ precis ~ headcanons on what it's like to date elquackity!

⋆ tags ~ romance, kissing, fluff, and mentions of death.

⋆ notes ~ thank you for requesting! i don't know much about the qsmp, so i looked into it a bit, so i do apologize if this is out of character for elquackity!

⋆       you and elquackity either met through the federation, or when he was pretending to be quackity.

⋆       at first, elquackity didn't know what to think of you. he'd probably hate you, but not because you actually did something.

⋆       it's because you made him feel something.

⋆       elquackity is not a person about feelings. he lacks sympathy and doesn't feel much except for enjoyment, but that joy usually came from other people's pain.

⋆       so, when he felt something other than that when you were around, he'd hate it. he hated all of it. he hated the warmth that sprawled through his body when you simply smiled at him. he hated the fluttering in his stomach when he heard you talk. he hated the stammer in his usual confident voice when you stood near him.

⋆       he hated you.

⋆       or at least that's what he told himself.

⋆       eventually, he would come to learn that what he was feeling was love. it was probably tubbo who ended up telling him that since elquackity views him like a father, and he didn't know who else to ask about it.

⋆       so, with the help of tubbo, he learns that the only way to try and get rid of this feeling was to either tell you that he liked you, or distance himself from you to see if that would help.

⋆       he would try the second option, but he then learned that it was impossible to stay away from you and get his goals done.

⋆       now, with the first option, he wouldn't know how to do it. of course, he's seen other people do it, but he doesn't know what to do. other's have done it in so many different ways and reacted differently each time, so what was he supposed to do?

⋆       with elquackity being elquackity, he would probably blurt it out and just stare at you afterwards. no smile or even raised eyebrows, he would just have a poker face.

"is everything alright, quackity?" hearing that name on your tongue felt like a sin with how it made quackity's skin crawl, and the man could only fidget with his fingerless gloves for a few seconds before his eyes met yours.

he hated looking into your eyes, for you always looked so innocent. like you were pure of any wrongdoings. you were the complete opposite of him.

maybe that's why he so-called "loved" you. or maybe it was the way you smiled, the way you dressed, the way you talked, the way you stared at him like he was the only person in the world—

maybe it was just you in general.

"no." quackity's response was short, and it only made you look at him with more curiosity. "did something happen?"

he let out a scoff at your question, and he crossed his arms as he stared right into your eyes.

it was kind of intimidating if you were being honest.

"i love you."

he didn't understand why your eyes widened like saucers, or why you looked so shocked. was love a bad thing?

"you love me?" you repeated quackity's words, and he could only raise an eyebrow in perplexity. "yes, that's what i said."

what was so hard to understand about that?

⋆       you would end up having to explain everything to elquackity, like what his words meant and dating.

⋆       the funny thing is that he just sat there the whole time and nodded like it was a lesson.

⋆       when you finished explaining everything, elquackity would probably ask you to date him in hopes that would help get rid of his feelings, and you said yes.

⋆       in reality, though, it did not. he truly thought tubbo lied to him for a bit because his feelings only got worse.

⋆       he found himself following you more often like a lost dog, and he didn't enjoy it whatsoever. people often made comments about how he followed you around, and he didn't like that either, yet he never stopped unless he had somewhere to go.

⋆       also, you would be told who he truly was.

⋆       you always had a feeling that quackity wasn't actually quackity, and you were only confirmed that when elquackity revealed that he was quackity's brother.

⋆       he was surprised when you told him that you didn't care, though. it didn't change anything for you.

⋆       he thought you would've hated him and left him, and then he would get over these feelings, but it never happened.

⋆       after that, he would slowly start learning more about relationships.

⋆       he would learn about terms of endearment, so he'd call you things like mi amor, cariño, or whatever you preferred. he's new to this, so he's not going to complain unless it's something he thinks is weird.

⋆       also, when he learns that you're supposed to give your lover flowers, he doesn't get the idea of it and just gets you a whole lot of flowers.

⋆       your house would be full of them.

⋆       but if you're allergic, he'd probably burn them all outside.

⋆       also, expect him to be at your house a lot. he practically lives there with you.

⋆       if you have an egg, you might wanna help elquackity get used to it. he doesn't like the eggs at all, but if you managed to convince him to at least like your egg, then him being at your house would be fine.

⋆       he's a sloppy kisser, by the way.

⋆       does not know how that works.

⋆       it's rare for him to kiss you on the lips since he's always in a rush, so he would prefer kisses on the cheek or forehead. with you, he'd probably kiss your neck or jaw.

⋆       but if you asked him for a kiss on the lips, he'd give you one if you aren't in public.

"mi amor, i'm leaving!"

quackity's voice rang out through the house, and he was met with the sound of someone rushing to the door as his answer.

you popped up from around the corner as you hastily wrapped your arms around him, and he could only let out a few mumbled words before hugging you back. "i'm not going to be gone for long..."

"i know." before quackity could reply, he felt your lips being pressed against his, and he froze.

after a couple seconds, he slowly started to kiss you back—tilting his head while one of his hands gently held the back of your head.

"i'll be home before dinner..."

the statement was mumbled into the kiss before he pulled back, and his forehead rested against yours as he stared at you.

it was hard to figure out what he was thinking, for his eyes never gave it away.

and with that, he let go of you—opening the door behind him before slipping out of the house.

⋆       usually, when he leaves, it means that he's going to take quackity's place. you don't know where the real quackity is when elquackity does it, and you never bothered to ask. you didn't want to upset elquackity.

⋆       but, when elquackity isn't taking quackity's place, he's hiding out at your place or the federation building.

⋆       during purgatory, when elquackity takes quackity's place for it, he is not letting you out of his sight.

⋆       he believes it's too risky, and doesn't want you getting hurt. or die.

⋆       he truly doesn't know how he'll react if you die.

⋆       at first, he hated these feelings. he hated you. he wanted it all to go away.

⋆       but now, he doesn't even think he can function if you went away.

©𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐔𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

writings are to not be reposted, translated, or plagiarized. if you wish to show your love for my work, feel free to reblog, comment, or like.

[gingerteafairy]

𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫

The result of summoning a spirit without knowing it can be impressive —or highly delicious.

tags n warnings: austin sommers x reader, vampirism, witchcraft, language, dry humping, love bites. word count: 2.4k masterlist

As someone completely inexperienced and, to be honest, a little odd, you had no idea how you ended up in this situation. Alone, sitting on the floor, a single candle flickering beside you, and a man—magnificent, almost ethereal—materializing right before your eyes after you recited some silly spell you found on the internet as a joke.

"How to Summon a Vampire. 100% Foolproof Tutorial."

I mean, there was no way this could be real. It was literally from a blog written fifteen years ago, with terrible formatting and a design that looked like it had crawled straight out of the early days of the internet. And yet… there he was. Standing in your room, looking utterly unimpressed at having been disturbed.

"What, girl? Are you just gonna sit there staring at me?" he grumbled, crossing his arms impatiently. The motion caused his half-unbuttoned shirt to slip open a little more, revealing a toned chest where silver necklaces rested against his pale skin. "God, are you mute, or just stupid?"

"S-Sorry, it’s just… I didn’t think this would actually work," you stammered, blinking rapidly as if trying to force reality to make sense. You had literally summoned a vampire into your bedroom. "I was just… bored."

"Yeah, well, idle hands are the devil’s playground, huh? Your mother never taught you that?" He mocked, stretching his arms above his head like a lazy, well-fed cat. His movements were casual, yet dripping with a confidence so effortless it was almost taunting. "You should really get a better hobby than playing around with witchcraft."

"Witchcraft? But… aren’t you a vampire?" you asked, finally pushing yourself up to stand. The height difference between you became glaringly obvious—he towered over you effortlessly, his presence somehow even more imposing up close.

"Uh, duh. Look at me," he scoffed, making a dramatic gesture toward himself. When you hesitated, he rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh before tugging back his upper lip with his index finger. No sharp fangs like in the movies. But still… there was something about him, something undeniably not human.

"Shit…" you whispered, leaning in slightly for a closer look. Your hand lifted instinctively, but you caught yourself halfway and quickly pulled it back.

"So? Why the hell did you summon me?" he snapped, cutting through your awe as he shoved a hand into his coat pocket. He pulled out a black pill and a small metal flask, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig. His face twisted in mild disgust—alcohol, you guessed.

You exhaled deeply. Now wasn’t the time to second-guess yourself—there was a real vampire standing in front of you.

"I want to become one," you admitted, straightening your posture in an attempt to look braver than you felt. Or at least, something close to it. “A vampire.”

He raised an eyebrow, scanning you from head to toe as if he were dissecting every detail, every cell of your body. Then, he let out a low, drawn-out chuckle. "And why do you want that?"

You hesitated. Your reason was stupid, obvious, frivolous. But something in his eyes told you he’d know if you lied. So, you decided to tell the truth.

"I'm bored."

He tilted his head slightly, a smug smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You’re kind of weird."

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, frowning.

"Nah," he chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. "Actually, I like it. At least it’s original."

"So… will you turn me?" you asked, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

He let out a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back before looking at you again. "I don’t know… Are you willing to pay the price?"

"Yes," you answered without hesitation. You had come this far—whatever came next was just a bonus.

"Alright then," he shrugged, loosening his arms and stepping toward you. Slowly. Deliberately.

He stopped so close you could feel his breath—a cold whisper against your skin. "You’re kinda cute," he murmured, his gaze trailing over you again. "It’d be a shame to ruin that…"

"Uh… thanks?" you replied, unsure whether it was a compliment or if he was genuinely surprised you weren’t some kind of freak.

His smile widened, amused. "Oh, this is going to be fun…"

He touched your face with his fingertips, cold skin contrasting with the heat of your body. With a subtle movement, he tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck. His gaze became intense, fixed on the spot where your pulse hammered beneath the thin skin. You felt your heart race and, instinctively, you closed your eyes—perhaps in a futile attempt to not feel so vulnerable under his predatory gaze.

“By the way, I’m Austin Sommers,” he introduced himself, his casual tone contrasting with the way he pressed his index finger against your artery, feeling each rapid beat. “You’ll need to know when you need to moan my name.”

“What? Ouch!” You let out a surprised cry when you felt something sharp tear your skin—a quick, precise cut. Before you could react, Austin had already tilted his head and pressed his mouth against the wound, his warm lips sealing themselves around your skin.

The initial shock was replaced by an alarming sensation—pleasurable, intense. His tongue slid across the cut, cleaning away the remaining blood, and a shiver ran down your spine. Your body reacted before your mind could process what was happening; your hand shot to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you tried to anchor yourself to something.

And God… it felt good. So damn good.

Austin pulled away slowly, his eyes half-lidded as he ran his tongue over his lower lip, collecting any lingering traces of blood. A playful smile curved his mouth as he wiped a bit of the crimson liquid from the corner with his finger—then brought it to his lips, sucking on it leisurely.

"Your blood is sweet," he mused, still savoring the taste. His gaze flickered over your face before dropping back to your neck. He lifted a hand, running a finger along your skin to gather another drop, which he lazily licked away. "Like, really sweet. Almost pure sugar."

"Is that… a good thing?" you asked awkwardly, bringing a hand to your neck. When you glanced at your palm, you noticed a thin streak of blood still trailing down your skin.

"Eh, depends," he shrugged, then gestured toward your hand. "Hey, don’t waste that."

Before you could react, he grabbed your wrist and dragged his tongue slowly across your palm, lapping up the blood with a satisfied expression.

"Actually, it’s great for me," he explained, releasing your hand with a click of his tongue. "Terrible for you though. Tell me—have you been stuffing yourself with sweets for the past three months?"

"What? That’s… weirdly specific," you frowned, thrown off by the seemingly random question.

Austin rolled his eyes, letting out a low chuckle, clearly amused by your cluelessness.

"Oh, you airhead," he taunted, crossing his arms with a smug tilt of his head. "Red blood cells take three months to regenerate. You can’t cheat the tests."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to connect the dots. But when you just stared at him blankly, he let out an exaggerated sigh.

"Whatever, you weren’t required to know that," he said with a lazy smirk. Then, he stepped closer, his gaze darkening with something that sent a ripple of anticipation through your stomach.

"Either way… we need to move on to the second part of the ritual."

“Would that be… dying?” you asked, tilting your head to the side opposite where Austin had bitten you. Your voice came out lower than you intended, almost shaky, but not exactly from fear.

He let out a low, melodious laugh, filled with something indecipherable. “Wow, I love morbid witches,” you teased, a charming smile forming on his lips. “They’re the sexiest.”

Unhurriedly, he lifted his hand and touched your neck, his icy fingers gliding over the living skin. He didn’t press, just let his palm rest there, as if he were enjoying the sensation of your life pulsing beneath his touch. His fingers traced the fresh scar with a slow, almost reverent caress.

"You liked that, didn’t you?"

You held your breath, biting your lip as a shiver ran down your spine. You wanted to deny it, but the lie would have been so obvious it wasn’t even worth the effort. Nodding subtly, you finally admitted, "Yes… Strangely, it felt really good."

Gathering the courage to meet his gaze, you found those pitch-black eyes—deep as the void of night—watching you with something that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

"You want more?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement, yet something in the way he asked made the offer all the more tempting.

His fingers ghosted along the back of your neck, curling into your hair and giving a gentle, yet unyielding tug, tilting your head back just enough to leave you vulnerable.

A quiet whimper slipped from your throat, your lips parting as you hesitated to put into words what was already written all over your face. Your gaze lowered, silently pleading. It was forbidden. Morbid. Seductive. Just like Austin Sommers himself.

"There is definitely something wrong with you," he chuckled softly, the vibration of his voice reverberating against your skin before he leaned in closer.

His head dipped toward your neck again, lips hovering over the warmth of your pulse. The other hand traveled slowly up the curve of your spine, gliding to your waist before pulling you flush against him.

Your heart pounded. Everything about this was wrong—too strange, too intoxicating. His touch, his hypnotic voice, the way each word seemed to slip past your defenses effortlessly. You didn’t know if it was something supernatural or simply something chemical—something inside you that had always been there, waiting to be awakened.

But for the first time, you felt completely alive. Your fingers tangled into the soft strands at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer until your lips were barely brushing against his.

"I want more," you whispered.

His eyes widened briefly, caught off guard, but the surprise melted away as quickly as it came, replaced by that same knowing smile that was already becoming familiar.

"With pleasure," he murmured, his cool breath mixing with the heat of your lips.

He closed his eyes, and you did the same. The moment was too intense to experience with your eyes open.

Austin’s breath was tantalizing, ghosting over your mouth as if he were savoring every molecule of your being before even touching you. His hands slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place—keeping you captive under his control as he absorbed everything.

Your scent. Your warmth. Your racing pulse. Blood. Soap. Perfume. Sweat. When his lips finally met yours, it was like drinking from the forbidden fruit. Warm. Slow. Poetic. There was something in him that fed on this. A hunger that stirred the darkness, that made you feel like a feast laid out before him and Austin Sommers loved to indulge.

The only difference that separated you from him was the thirst for blood and you were about to change that, biting his lip, the soft skin untouched by time between your teeth, sinking them in. A trickle of blood coming out, the metallic taste on your taste buds. This was a feral and delicious fetish.

Austin growled into your mouth, the touch becoming more possessive, hands on each other's faces, like a battle of lascivious dominance. He returned the force, pulling your hair back, grabbing your lower lip harder. You moaned so beautifully there that Austin felt it was artistic, almost unreal, daring to repeat the feat, loving every second of your delight.

“Fuck— you're so...delicious,” he murmured when you separated, your mouths were swollen, red with blood flowing to the region and scarlet staining your teeth. “I wouldn't mind giving you love bites for eternity.”

“Do this to me,” you murmured, licking the corner of Austin’s mouth that still contained traces of your fluid. “Forever.”

He pulled your hair again, interrupting your lustful declaration, it was like having you on a leash, but you had the collar. Pulling on his collar, you stopped the aggressive tug, making him disarm himself for the first time. “Now,” you commanded, sealing your lips again, satisfying your new addiction, not letting anything escape.

“Drink me,” Austin invited. He was lost, succumbing to the need to surrender too. With strong steps, he laid you down on the bed in your room, pulling on your necklace. What to do but comply with the request?

Your body was hot, sinfully hot. Wet was a weak word for what was happening between your legs, at this point, you could feel every red blood cell running through your blood vessels, as well as every cell of Austin that woke up on top of you. Your mouth went to Austin’s neck, sucking and biting, licking, the taste of his addictive skin. Austin gasped, pushing his hips forward. As you abused his neck, you felt the need to scratch it, running your nails over the pressure point.

“Fuck,” he grunted, grabbing your wrist. You felt the cut, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, as it was numbed by Austin’s tongue and his hips thrusting back and forth against your sex.

“Shit, shit—" you moaned, spreading your legs wider, seeking Austin’s face for another kiss, feeling your own blood mix with his tongue. Your body was out of control beneath him and soon, you came undone there. The prophecy fulfilled, moaning until the last shock waves. “Austin!”

“Shit,” he gasped, his fingers digging into your waist, the sound being muffled by your mouth.

The only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing, your heart beating. Your eyes met, Austin smiled, burying his face in the hollow of your neck for one last bite before turning to you.

“So, did I finish the ritual?” You questioned with a ragged breath, a wide smile splitting your face.

“It never even started,” he laughed, going to your ear to bite the lobe and return to your eyes. “I’m not a vampire, I’m just a big blood-addicted son of a bitch.”

“And how did I summon you?” You asked, trying to get up, but were soon stopped by Austin’s hands on your wrists, pinning you to the bed, while he adjusted himself on top of you to also pin your legs.

“You had the bad luck to summon a succubus,” he hummed, your whole body was on fire at the time, making sense of the whole devilish aura around Austin. “Now you’re my favorite toy. Enjoy the party and grab my collar. I'm your one and only freak monster.”

[schnuffel-danny]

I'm gonna be honest with you all for a second I think extremely online system discourse has completely stunted plurality acceptance imo like, I feel like there is an /idea/ of what a system is supposed to be and if you don't fall into that you're either faking, confused, or refusing responsibility or whatever we don't have a neat little carrd or strawpage or whatever else, none of my alters have their own intros or emoji tags or sideblogs, I don't know half or their names or pronouns because we don't have a clear line of communication, I don't have any control over who fronts or when, I have no control or what happens during an episode, I have no memories of it, and the most important part- I DO NOT AGREE WITH A LOT OF WHAT MY ALTERS DO I have a somewhat stereotypical "evil" alter who is a genuine danger to myself, but if he were to do something bad and get caught, I would be blamed and punished for his actions as a singlet..... because negative symptoms/impact of mental disorders is completely ignored when talking about them? idk idk I feel like you're only allowed to be a system online if you make cute edits and post shit like "alter made themselves on roblox ^_^ " where it's cute and entertaining.... unfortunately one of my alters ships stuff that makes me want to vomit and his multiple attempts to straight up kill us has given me a lifelong case of heart arrhythmia and nerve damage in my hands

[walkingaline]

Show us your blorbos!

The wonderful @oonajaeadira has tagged me in this game (sorry for the delay in the response) and, I mean... if you don't rave about them on the blorbo website, what are you even doing here?

Tagging @risingphoenix761 @letsby @panthera-dei @ladyorlandodream @ladyxskywalker and @alwaysbethewest. Then, whoever sees this and wants to play, feel free to do it!

Now, here we go:

Now, first and foremost, the guy who's able to capture me with whatever character he plays. Get ready to see the same face for a little while.

I mean, this one dragged me right back on here and messed me up. So.

Yep.

... I'll be honest, there are more but I can't find the gifs for them, so I will take it as a saving grace.

Adding: compelling characters from my fandoms. No crushes, mostly.

(It counts as Garth, although I'm sure someone has written about the goddamn sock, because this fandom is just Like That)

(ok, I lied, this one is a BIG crush, not sorry in the slightest, have you SEEN HER?!)

(Also, there's a whole series where these two are together. You better believe they were the only thing carrying me through that.)

(Yes, both)

Now, for the category: Blorbos-In-Law AKA Not really my fandom but characters compelling enough to make me write for them. No crushes.

... look, I'm sure there are a lot more. I've forgotten a ton of ladies, I know I have. Then again, this is the only moment I found to sit down and compile a non-exhaustive list of blorbos.

Can't wait to see yours!

[varian212]

I came across your comment by accident, honestly. Over time, I’ve made it a habit not to follow too closely what’s being said online about the books I love; I know I’ll find opinions that will make me write way too much.

But that was my mistake, for checking the A Little Life tag. Foolish me, hoping someone had made some fan art or an interesting post. Instead, I stumbled upon what you wrote.

The following lines are not just for you but for everyone who shares your perspective. So take a seat, and don’t hesitate to respond with the same level of engagement that I’ve put into this.

I think you’re so absurd in your post, it’s almost worrying.

A Little Life is not just a book about homosexuals, Jude is not just a homosexual, and the story is not just about sexuality. It’s a book about people’s lives, with both good and bad stuff happening. And don't come here an say that there weren't any good moments, that'll only show me how your brain is fixed on one thing (hating the book) and it's blinded by everything else.

And welcome to Earth, where Hanya doesn’t need to make gay men suffer, that already happens. I invite you in Rusia for a weekend,do you know what would happen to you if,as a man,you'll walk on the streets wearing girly clothes or makeup? And I don't mean you'll get cat called; that's literally the best case scenario.

But your post only shows how privileged you are, how protected you are from what happens in this world. Turn on the TV, read articles, watch the news – do you think Hanya invented these kinds of monsters, these kinds of traumas? I assure you, no, she just wrote about them.

And what a strange thing, to bring up sexuality so much. Especially when a good part of Jude’s traumas happened when he was a child, then a teenager.

But your first concern is not "What the hell, how can she write about this kind of stuff happening to a child?" but "What the hell, this author has a fetish for gay people." As if, for you, it’s more important that Jude is gay than that he is human .

There are so many books like this but where the main characters are women and no one says anything. Guess we are already used to know about them getting raped,assaulted, beaten. Turns out it can happen to everybody.

Your empathy for gay people seems superficial, like the kind that’s only displayed on social media; never vocal in real life.

And you know what's even worse? Your audacity.

Let me tell you a little story : By chance, I am a volunteer for an organization called Save the Children.

Last week, a little girl was brought in, and I had to take care of her. Do you know what the problem was? Two soldiers entered her family house, destroyed everything, and raped her mother in front of her and her two younger brothers.

After her mother lost consciousness, they did the same to the little girl. And they did it so violently that she lost the ability to walk for the rest of her life. A few punches to the left side of her skull resulted in damage to the motor cortex, combined with strangulation, which led to hypoxic brain injuries. That’s all it takes.

I’m not saying this to shock you—I just want you to know that this is just one child out of millions of similar cases. Real life children,real life people.

Will anyone speak up about this? Probably not. Will the military court do anything about those soldiers? In the worst case, they’ll give them a few days off, and then they’ll go right back to doing the same thing.

Again, Hanya Yanagihara (cuz yeah,if you leave a hate comment,have the decency to write her name correctly) didn't invent shit. Those evil people are literally alive and well among us.

Now imagine I go to this child, look at her, and say, "You've been abused too much. What you've been through sounds dreamlike. It sounds like trauma porn, if I’m being honest."

Please read this paragraph again.

Do you see how it sounds? Do you realize how ignorant you are about everything that’s happening? How much comfort you have in your life?

Do you care so much about a woman who wrote about gay people? Why don’t I see you being just as vocal about men who have written about lesbians, white people writing about black people, healthy people writing about those with disabilities?

Why aren’t you just as disturbed by criminals writing about being victims?

Those things happen in real life too,and yet you are more concerned about a book.

Maybe this post will be read up to this point, and maybe it will wake up some of you privileged, upper-class white people commenting on your iPhone 16 Pro Max.

We don’t choose how we are born or what education we can afford up to a certain age, but at some point, it becomes our responsibility to educate ourselves.

Do you know what I do when I hate a book, an idea, or a movie? I learn absolutely everything about it. I get my information from five different sources to make sure it's reliable. I try to reason, to find opinions that contradict mine, as well as those that agree with me. In short, I become so familiar with every detail of what I'm trying to criticize that my arguments are as valid and verifiable as possible. That's what I call effort worth noticing.

If you're gonna be a heater at least pretend to be a smart one.

i could never read a little life, cus its a reminder that just like bi men in gay porn, women are infesting the whole niche of writing about gay male main characters and overrunning actual gay male writer who would love to write about actual gay male character and they also always use those gay male characters to punch down or project their own self. A little life is literally just a het woman writing about a gay man and putting him thru everything to the point it becomes just torture porn and for some even unbelievable to the point of being dreamlike. That writer (hana yanagihari) literally only writes about gay men who were raped in their childhood and suffered their whole life after, she literally wrote the same shit 3 times!!! 3!!!!! She is obsessed with having gay men suffer.

This is always a dead giveaway to me that someone doesn’t conceptualize gay men as actual people so their writing exposes them by showing how they use gay men as archetypes or plot devices to send a message or push an idea which sends me back to the heyes code cus thats their unknown undercover bible.

Like at its core there is no empathy towards gay men.

[multi-lefaiye]

sometimes you have a trigger that cannot be reasonably and easily accommodated for, because it would require the people around you to police themselves to an extent that is not healthy for them to do.

that doesn't make your triggers and your trauma any less real or valid or *deserving* of accommodations, but deserving does not necessarily always mean that those accommodations are possible.

sometimes the best way to handle your triggers is to recognize what triggers you and do what you have to do to handle them when they come up. find coping mechanisms that work for you, and as much as you're able to, be open with the people in your life about it. even if they can't make sure you never have to interact with something that may trigger you, they can be a support system for you to ensure you'll survive the blows as they come.

it's not always possible to avoid what triggers you and it's not always possible for others to do that for you. (to be clear: i'm not at all saying people should *seek out* content that they *know* will trigger them or that they shouldn't remove themselves from situations that are triggering when they have the ability to do so, but that sometimes it's not that easy.)

(disclaimer: this is not psychological advice and i'm not saying this applies to everyone.)

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[umblrspectrum]

infinitely funnier visuals in my head, likely because they werent subject to my actual skill level in art