#guys i did it!!!!!!!!! i did it!!!!!!!! i posted the letters thing!!!!!!!!!!

[copperbadge]

Sam, how on earth did you get permabanned from tinder and okcupid? That seems like such a random thing!

I'm still not entirely sure; I have a theory, and Tinder gave me an indication, but by policy they don't tell people why they've been banned. Which I can understand, if someone reported you for bad behavior they don't want you to know or suspect who.

For me it was very weird. I'd had accounts with both before but had deleted them so I needed to reregister. When I registered for Tinder they kept making me verify I was real in different ways, like some weird escalating scale of identity. At last they had me take a real specific picture, and then I got an email saying I could not prove I was real to their satisfaction, and that I was permabanned. I never even interacted with anyone on the app.

But there are plenty of apps, so I went to okcupid a few days later and while they didn't SAY Tinder tattled to them, they immediately denied and permabanned me when I put in my phone number. I can only suppose they talked. They're both owned by the same company, so it tracks.

Most dating apps are owned by one or two companies, they're just formulated differently for different tastes/wants. What's funny is that I'm on at least one other app owned by Match Group and that one, Hinge, is totally fine with me. So idk.

The post office also didn't believe my address was real for the first few years I tried to register for their postal Letters to Santa giving program. I still can't get delivery meals that don't go badly awry. It's enough to give a guy a complex, but honestly I never felt good or comfortable on those two apps anyway so it might be for my own good. Having been on different ones now, I genuinely think OKCupid is one of the more toxic apps in this sphere, purely because it markets itself so specifically to people looking for authenticity but doesn't really foster it. A lot of other apps at least don't pretend they aren't meat markets.

I've had to approach dating apps in general as hostile places, simply because the level of harm they inflict for someone with RSD is so high. I don't blame the other users, but the apps themselves are structured so that you can, for example, see all the people who didn't think you were date material, but have to pay to see people who thought you were. Being radically honest about who I am and what I want has been helpful because I expect a much higher rejection rate from that, so I'm braced for it, but it's still not fun. On the other hand, this is the first try where I've made meaningful connections that have resulted in real dates. Breakfast Date, who I met on Hinge, has been really hot and fun, and Museum Date, who I met on eHarmony, is an ongoing exercise in hilarity (sexy hilarity) so for the first time it's worth it. And I don't think that would have been the case on OKCupid.

[cultlix]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

pair. recovering alcoholic! felix x recovering alcoholic! fem reader | genre. strangers-to-lovers, love lust at first sight, smut, slight angst | warnings. public sex, mutual masturbation, mentions of alcohol and smoke, allusion to depression.

synopsis. He laughs and somehow the air seems less frozen, the night less threatening. But danger still wafts there, undisturbed, engulfing everything like a blanket of smoke, as this desire, unforeseen, illogical, a restless butterfly flying over a minefield.

author's note. hi everyone! this is my first post and i couldn't be more electrified and terrified at the same time. hope you enjoy this story as much as i did while writing it but, otherwise, if you should ever feel upset or uncomfortable, please discontinue reading. thanks in advance for the time you'll decide to dedicate to my work.

➽──────────────❥

First it was nothingness.

An abstract concept to you, a silent reaper taking others' existences like pulling cards from the deck, mantling minds, slashing souls.

When you stretched out to look at its depths, it felt somehow due, necessary. In the deafening quietness of obedience, been swallowed by its vastness looked almost like a choice, never an aftermath.

Numbness came later. Amber liquids served in crystal glasses tasting like oblivion, like the promise of a ceasefire, an amnesty with your deep-seated urge to acquiesce, to please.

Now those who once idolized you as a monument of integrity are the ones who sew a scarlet letter on your chest. And yet, freefalling into that spiral of rashness was worth the loss of their esteem, their respect. Alcohol was never the main problem, your strict parents were, your demanding professors, and whoever taught you to demonize any form of failure.

But your worst defeat was granting them the power to indoctrinate you with this tenet, to pollute your brain.

You think about it each time you park your car in front of the A.A. meetings building, tonight like any other night, with a cigarette slowly consuming between your cracked lips, when you turn off the tapeplayer and echoes of old tunes still linger in the cabin, like spectres haunting a house, whispering stories you struggle to recognize as your own, recollecting fragments of a past that come and go in flares of rage and regret.

"Do you have a light?"

A guy stands in front of your open window. His skin is gilded like sand sprinkled on hands, ticklish between fingers, smelling like the salty breeze of a beach getaway. His voice is calm, profound, reminding the distant lapping of the waves against the shore.

You hand him your Zippo, the only thing that's left of a long term relationship started in your sophomore year of college. It almost persuaded you to wear a wedding veil but, in hindsight, it might have felt more like a crown of thorns around your head.

"Such a disgusting habit, yeah?" he admits, his big brown eyes sparkling behind long lashes that flutter for the proximity of the flame.

You get out of the car, closing the door and throwing away the cigarette butt. "Absolutely."

"I've tried quitting a million times, but I guess I'm not that good at setting goals."

"If we were, we wouldn't hold this conversation," you remark.

He runs his hand through his long, blond strands, tucking them behind his ear as he inhales avidly the smoke into his lungs. The tip of his tongue tracing the peaks of his Cupid's bow as he ventures locking eyes with you intently.

"And that would be a bummer."

You feel like your moral compass is at the mercy of his gaze, a dreamcatcher in the wind swaying at each violent gust. He smells like havoc and the inclination to chase it at any cost, slithering under your skin like an infection and digging deep in your heart. It blends with his cologne, hints of sage and vetiver, sucker punching your reason, blurring every notion you have of thin lines and boundaries. As most of the things that may lead you to perdition, this one, this beautiful stranger, is impossible to ignore, to decline.

"Felix," he says, waiting for his hand to be shaken.

"Y/N," you answer holding it, as the whole picture becomes clearer, the potential damage more evident. His touch is too casual, too fleeting to leave you so starved, caught in the crossfire between impulse and control, awaking tamed emotions you're not supposed, not allowed to feel.

"How long, Y/N?"

You show him your sobriety coin, now a makeshift keychain. "Three years."

"Same. Is it just me or you also still feel like dancing blindfolded on the edge of a cliff?" Felix takes the cig out of his mouth, watching the rolling paper burning down to the tan filter.

"Uhm, I only dance after a couple of shots, so..."

He laughs and somehow the air seems less frozen, the night less threatening. But danger still wafts there, undisturbed, engulfing everything like a blanket of smoke, as this desire, unforeseen, illogical, a restless butterfly flying over a minefield.

"I've done worst things than dancing, though."

"Ooh, a competion. Go ahead, amaze me," you press him, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, losing my job, distancing friends..."

"Dropping out of college, cancelling a wedding..."

Felix shows his palms as a sign of surrender. "Wow, that's tough, can't beat that."

He nods, then bites the inside of his mouth, pondering. "Fucking random people in a hall because you can't even make it to the doorway of their apartment and not giving a shit about getting caught."

"Who needs to drink for that?" you lean against your car, your eyes studying him, challenging him, betraying that ravenousness swept under the rug, floating in a corner of your mind where fantasies are not dicey sparks caressing the instinct, but deadly weapons.

He gets closer, leisurely, his gaze holding the same magnificence of a midsummer dusk tinged with cerulean and shell-pink shades.

"Not us," he asserts, his voice lowering, his angelic appereance buried under thick layers of brazenness.

"Nuh-uh. That would be a bummer."

"If we did," he continues, moving towards you, careful to detect any sign of reluctance for this outburst of audacity, "we wouldn't hold this conversation."

The sweetest of all menaces, the most sublime descent into the netherworld. Your same recklessness reflected in his eyes, a twin flame still burning unperturbed between dust and wreckages, fed by the mutual, feverish need to find relief in a contact, corporeal, earthly, real.

"You should have quitted smoking," you say under your breath, skimming the faux fur of his collar, feeling his chest resonating with each frantic beat of his heedless heart.

"You should have never looked so beautiful," he replies, emprisoning your frame between his and your car, forcing you to slightly open your legs. You sigh for how big he already is still confined to his clothes, for the friction, intense yet gentle, unexpected.

"So now it's my fault, right?" you try to articulate, waiting for him to grow, to throb, to rub unabashedly against your warmth, but he takes his time, twirling your hair around his fingers, his index sliding from your cheek to your collarbone.

"Oh, poor kitty, why's the world so mean to her?" He pouts playfully, index still tracing your exposed skin, "what a curse being a fucking temptress caged in an angel body. How can she be in any way responsable for that?"

"This is gonna wreck us in ways you can't even imagine..."

"Right now the only thing I can imagine is how I'd like to wreck this lovely mouth of yours," he whispers brushing his thumb against your lips, staring how easily they open at such a delicate pressure, foretasting, asking himself how they would wrap around him, how they would empty him.

You guide his hand on your hip, on the waist band of your jeans, his cold, hesitant fingers unbuttoning them, unzipping them just enough to reach the flimsy fabric of your panties, to sink in the sacredness of the forbidden, to stroke it, to find, under the fragile seams, the incarnation of your yearning, so tangible, implacable, overflowing.

"Shit."

You lead his fingertips against your folds, on your nub, swollen, sensitive, making flutter your eyelids when he starts circling it, limbs and voice shaking in the throes of a sudden, forgotten pleasure, words coming off in syncopated sighs.

"And you? Will you take any responsibility for the mess you've made of me?"

Felix tries to cover you with his coat while he drowns even more deeply, feeling you clutching and then surrendering to his presence, his fingers moving unhurriedly as your smell pervades his lungs, inebriating him. He almost squashes you against the car, his breath uneven, his groans throaty, breaking the stillness of the street when you palm him through his jeans, his hardness quivering underneath your firm touch.

Your hand glides inside his underwear, alabaster white rivulets of lust smear your digits, soften your movements, measured, consuming. He lowers his head, a cascade of golden silk partly draping his expression, half chary, half abandoned, torn between restraint and rapture.

This hankering's devastating, a cancer, seeping between his bones, corroding his discernment. His languid eyes can barely camouflage how it impels him to chase the thrill to tread treacherous grounds, to crash into the vortex.

He kisses you, he tears you to pieces with his teeth, dulls your sense with his tongue, he scratches and heals with the same carelessness of a torturer pointing out his supremacy. It's feral, liberating, the closest thing to defiance, to escape. Just two shadows, two solitudes combining, colliding in a dance of frenzied hands and insatiable bodies, suspended in a seraphic moment of alienation, lost in the illusion of an idyllic annihilation. It culminates in tremors and quavers, sighs overlap at unison, flesh blazing, muscles spasming in complete synergy, as he curls his arts in your cavity for the last time, as your grip strenghtens to prolong the chafing.

The awakening is harsh, cruel for both, like the glacial wind outside. Reality jostles to suffocate you again with its grey torpor.

"It was fun skipping the 'Can I get you a drink?' part for once," you pant.

"Totally," he answers, fastening his belt again.

"Healthier," you comment, absentmindedly.

"Cheaper."

You slap his arm and he chuckles.

"You know what I mean."

"Now comes the part where we pretend we'll see each other again."

Felix zips up your jacket, fixing your hair. "Who needs to pretend?" he states, gently grabbing your chin. "Not us."

"Not us," you echo.

© cultlix, 2024. all rights reserved.

[alwaysthefool]

Love Spell (Xavier x Reader/MC)

Tags; angst, pining, comfort, happy ending, MC reader, gn reader

Warnings; ask.

Synopsis: Someone else puts a ‘love spell’ on you and Xavier doesn’t realise it at first, leaving him feeling betrayed and rejected.

Have you ever heard the saying that budding love is like a sonata? It has a soft beginning, a precipice, a rise and fall, and an end that leads to relaxing silence. This was your precipice.

You were sure Xavier would ask you out, as you waited for him under the big oak outside the forest, the Sunday afternoon breeze gentle and solemn. It was definitely a romantic place to meet, the invitation in the form of a letter left on your desk, your heartbeat quickening as you saw a silhouette in the distance.

But the person that appeared in front of you wasn’t Xavier. It was another man, a fellow hunter, someone you’d declined much earlier.

“Hey, what-“ Before you could finish, a pink glowing light from a protocore flashed your eyes, and you felt your entire constitution change.

Xavier, on the other hand, wondering where you were on the day off, went out to look for you, only to find you arm in arm with another man, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“[Name]?” He called you out gently, a lump in his throat. You looked back, your expression cold and indifferent. “Why are you with him?”

“Hm? This is my lover.” You replied, looking up to smile at the man next to you. He chuckled, kissing your forehead, making Xavier clench his fists tightly.

“Have you-“ He began, but watching how happy you looked, he couldn’t go on. “Oh, I wish you the best then.”

Xavier grit his teeth and walked away, angry, dejected, close to breaking. Didn’t you make a promise to him? Weren’t things going smoothly between the two of you? Was he too late again?

It’s fine, he thought, it was better for you that way. You’d be safer with someone else, happier too. He was from your world, he’d understand you better, and it was selfish of Xavier to want you.

He had always been selfish when it came to you.

That night, he did not have the heart to return to his apartment above yours, going to Philo instead, raiding Jeremiah’s fridge for beer.

“No ‘Hi’?” Jeremiah joked, closing the shop early to tend to the pouting prince. Xavier did not respond, chugging the beer, trying very hard to feel the hit.

“It’s non-alcoholic, dude.”

Xavier almost choked, coughing. “You couldn’t tell me earlier?”

“It says so on the package.” Jeremiah held back a laugh, knowing it was trouble in paradise that had his leader in such a mood. He tried to prod, but as usual, Xavier wouldn’t tell him anything, so he looked at your social media instead.

“Who’s this guy?” He exclaimed, disgust on his face. Xavier grabbed Jeremiah’s phone, to see the post of you with that man at a toy store, captioned ‘loml’.

He felt like crying, like screaming, something to get the pain out. Jeremiah tried to stop him as Xavier ran out, turning on his hunter’s watch, doing what he always did.

He fought without a break, without dodging, knowing it was evil of him to try and get hurt so maybe, just maybe you’d care. Maybe you’d visit him at the hospital, and maybe he could change your mind. Maybe there was still a chance. Even though you’d crushed his heart, he would do anything for those little ‘maybe’s.

When he woke up next in the hospital, another hunter was beside him, and Xavier got to know you changed your partners to be closer to him instead.

Do you hate me that much?

Did you have to go so far?

But it was too unlike you to not even visit him at the hospital or leave a text, finally making him sense something was wrong. He had faith in that care you showed him, and your heart that through time and space, had always been a loving one.

No, you wouldn’t do this.

Xavier sprinted out of the hospital bed, ignoring the calls of the other hunter and the nurses, taking a taxi straight to your apartment complex. He had been blocked by ‘you’ everywhere, and looking up the history of your new partner showed a past temporary suspension for using protocore hypnosis, a technique strictly banned by the association.

Xavier did not knock, teleporting inside instead to see you and that man slow dancing in the living room. This time, Xavier showed no restraint, pulling that scammer away from you, and searching him for protocores.

“Xavier, you’re hurt?” You asked, despite your state. Before you could start to plead with him to let you go, Xavier crushed that protocore between his fingers, lifting the trance off of you. You immediately fell unconscious, making him turn all your attention towards you. Although that gave the hypnotist a way out, Xavier knew he wouldn’t be able to run forever.

You woke up groggy, full of disgusting memories with someone you despised, and hyper alert Xavier next to you.

You hugged him immediately, and he hugged back.

“Why didn’t you come earlier?” You scolded, tears in your eyes. Xavier was as angry at himself as you were, so he could just listen, his crushed heart breaking even further. “How could you think I’d run away with another man?”

Xavier pulled away from the hug to look at you, your red and tear stained face. His expression spoke the unsaid apology as you continued.

“Next time you see me with someone else, you have to pull me away! I’m all yours, and if I’m not, then consider I’m being mind-controlled.”

Xavier’s eyes softened at that, as you continued scolding him. You stopped midway, your irritation subdued. “How did you get hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

-x-

Bonus;

As the two of you lay on your bed, finally talking out the feelings you’d been hiding, Xavier wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as he asked. “Did he touch you?”

You felt heat rise up to your cheeks, turning away from him to let him spoon you. “No, we didn’t even kiss.”

“I guess I’ll make it quick then.” Xavier mumbled to himself.

“Huh?”

“Shh… it’s not your worry anymore.”

[madara-fate]

That last post you made abt when Sasuke fell in love w/ Sakura rlly got me thinking,,, like actually what did Sasuke think about her in and around the blank period? A tiny little fangirl part of me wants to say that they've both been in love since the academy or whatever but that's just not realistic. Everything sort of points to Sasuke holding nothing but a platonic love for Sakura that faded or got buried during shippiden. But that scene where Sasuke pokes her forehead the same way Itachi did seems like an anomaly to me. It could be theorised that he just thought of her like a little sister which could make some sense but then after two years of being alone he comes back for a visit, takes Sakura with him and they make a baby at the most 3 months into their journey. So if that really was a little sister type love then MAN has he got some issues.

The only real thing I could think up was that maybe at some point when he was imprisoned Sakura visited him and they got along there which made him see Sakura differently <- v unlikely, I also tried to think of a situation where he sort of fell in love with her (The idea of her?) When he was on his journey. In Sakura's story: Love riding the spring breeze, it's lightly implied that Sasuke felt something towards Sakura based on the fact that Sasuke only returned momentarily near Konoha because he heard Sakura was in danger (TLDR of the book in the case you don't know: Guy tried to make a drug to give other people the sharingan temporarily, kidnapped Sakura, sent Sasuke a threatening letter, Sakura escaped on her own, after a few battles Sakura+friends go to the other bases to destroy them only to find Sasukes already burned them all down) but this could also be seen as him just being a friend?? I?? guess?? I have no idea honestly at no point in the timeline can I think of when he fell bc he wouldn't just take someone he didn't care so deeply about on a secluded journey w/ him and if he would he certainly would not knock them up.

Fuck ranted a bit mbb just wanted to know what u thought ab the timeline of his feelings or whatever

I think that between the end of Naruto and Sasuke's final fight, and Sasuke's departure for his redemption journey, he and Sakura got a little closer, to the point where Sasuke may have not consciously realised it, but he considered her more than just a comrade. Like a "more than friends, less than lovers" situation, because I agree with you about that forehead poke. I certainly don't think that Sasuke had any romantic intentions with that gesture, but he held it too close to his heart for it to have held no deeper meaning.

I am indeed familiar with the what happens in the novels, and I would say that the events of Sakura Hiden were what made Sasuke realize the nature of the feelings he had began developing during his time in the village following his and Naruto's fight, because his actions in that novel indicated that he placed Sakura's welfare on a pedestal above the village's problems, which is highly significant.

[sugarsnappeases]

Where can I put it down?

8/8 chapters | 8.5k words | very minor quillkiller

Dear Bella….

eight letters to bellatrix, from various people at various times in her life, none of which she ever received

[juniper-clan]

Moon 27: Walking on My Grave (feat @in-memoriam-tgwk Glowstar!)

PREVIOUS | NEXT

[limerental]

i actually enjoyed a lot of twn s3 but i see it repeated fairly often that it followed the books fairly closely (or at least more closely than s2) but listen. having freshly reread time of contempt, in my opinion, s3 somehow followed the books LESS than other seasons.

s1 and s2 were both often working with original content in between book canon scenes. but s3, as much as it did seem to go beat for beat following time of contempt's plot... somehow ends up changing almost every single plot point in some way.

yennefer travels with ciri and geralt together. geralt is pissed at yennefer and doesn't speak to her for a whole year. ciri wounds (maybe kills?) elves at shaerrawedd. yennefer calls ciri "ugly one" without the follow up context of their "you're already pretty" convo. geography is ?? travel is ?? the politics is flattened out to redania vs nilfgaard. the scoia'tael conflict is flattened out. aplegatt's story gets repurposed with none of the actual consequences that made that story in the books have an emotional impact because there is none of the same geopolitical plot.

tissaia stands with and frees vilgefortz out of love for him instead of standing against both the genocide and warfare of the northern kings and the imperialism of nilfgaard. the coup plot seems to be a last minute decision by philippa based on what?? who knows!! the last vilgefortz joins emhyr in nilfgaard??? yennefer calls the conclave and heads up the lodge????

so yes, it pulls some lines and scenes directly from the books and nods to them fairly often but in no way was s3 a closer or more faithful adaptation of the books than s2. it truly, fully misses something huge in almost every story beat.

[starpros-sunshine]

You can use a lot of words you know? You don't have to talk yourself around stuff like "It's famous Nazi code for an abbreviation for their popular motto which I won't be repeating here" when you really can just explain that 88 is supposed to represent the Hitler salute because H is the 8th letter in the alphabet? You don't even have to say the words but I mean wouldn't it make more sense to actually explain something instead of vaguely talking around it for some sense of...of what? What's the use in nor calling the thing by it's name? Won't that do more harm than good? I mean if people know they shouldnt do something but don't really know why then they won't take it that serious no?

[chaoss-incarnate]

someone PLEASE explain to me why i have to study thomas aquinas when his theories are literally the EXACT same as aristotle's but with the element of god and christianity. what is the fucking point. essence and potencial is basically the same as potentiality and actuality, but explained in a way that somehow fits god in it, who is both of these things. the four causes (material, formal, efficient, final) but yk, with an extra one (perfection) just to explain that god is the only actual perfect being. natural law? oh yeah ethics should be applied to be happy, which can only be achieved by finding god. so we must follow the same virtues aristotle proposes us, qith the only objective to get to heaven and find god (and of course we need to use reason to get there - plato, anyone?? using reason to get to the ideal world?). the virtues are basically the same: ethical ones and dianoethical ones, and obviously the addition of theological virtues, the ones related to christianity (faith, etc)

[madegeeky]

So apparently one of the next Micheline Pitt fandom collections is going to be Labyrinth! They haven't shown any pics of anything yet but I'm intrigued. I haven't seen it in a long time and have no intense nostalgia for it so haven't felt the need to go and watch it again.

But one thing I do know is that costuming in it is really interesting and I'm really excited to see what Micheline does with it.

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[erlanmizu]

.

[jtownraindancer]

So one of my reps in D.C. sends out surveys every couple of weeks with a very distinctive conservative leaning, but this week he made the mistake of letting me add any other "concerns" I would like to have him address in the coming year so uh... I kind of went on a tangent:

strengthening our infrastructure

helping communities prepare for issues that have begun due to climate change

higher taxes on those making more than $1million/year

free health/dental/vision

easier access to disability benefits & social security for our most vulnerable

increasing the minimum wage to match current rates of inflation

increasing the base minimum distributions for medicare/ssi/disability/unemployment recipients based on current rates of inflation

capping housing costs

free (if not automatic) & understandable tax filing options for all taxpayers

tighter & healthier restrictions on food production companies (too many recalls, too many allergy risks, too much waste)

more food assistance options for lower-income households

significantly LESS military spending

focus on the separation of Church and State

hopefully he/his aids will finally stop spamming me with his garbage

[north-wilkesboro-moonshine-cave]

...

[hoshifighting]

Two words. Dilf Cheol. (I am on the brink of insanity thank yewww)

dilf!seungcheol

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crying, marriage, his kid loves u, shy dilf!seungcheol at the beginning.

oh man, dilf!seungcheol though? i think about it every single day, i swear. and yeah, it all starts with that awkward-ass moment at the café. he’s standing there all buff and shy, trying to work up the nerve to ask for your number, his daughter hanging onto his leg like she’s his bodyguard. her big, curious eyes peeking out at you while he stumbles over his words. “uh… I just… I thought maybe you’d… uh,” seungcheol scratches the back of his neck, all nervous—like he isn’t the size of a tank. “you know, if you’re not busy… you could give me your insta?” he’s waiting for you to laugh at him, probably thinks he’s gonna get rejected because, you know, he’s got a kid and all. like that makes him less attractive or something. but you’re all heart-eyes the second his little girl pipes up with, “daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

dude nearly dies on the spot. he’s so red, you could probably cook an egg on his cheeks. but you just crouch down to her level, giving her the same sweet smile you flashed at the waitress earlier, and say, “well, I think your dad’s really handsome, too.”

game over. you’ve got him hooked, right there.

from then on, you’re texting nonstop. it’s almost like a high school crush thing, except the guy’s a full-grown dad who still somehow makes your stomach flip like you’re sixteen again. his insta’s basically a whole love letter to his daughter, like, every other post is her: her in some princess costume, her making pancakes (or trying to), her at the park with him, her with his dog. sometimes, you’ll scroll through his feed just to see him smile because, damn, it’s so rare he smiles like that anywhere else.

but then there’s the gym photos. god, those gym photos. all sweaty and pumped up, and you swear he’s showing off just a bit for you now that he knows you’re watching. his arms look like they could crush you, but the way he talks? it’s like he’s this big ol’ teddy bear wrapped in all that muscle.

“you eat today?” he texts you at like, 2 p.m., no greeting or anything.

you text back, “noo :(( too busy.”

not even a minute later, you get a notification from some food delivery app—he’s already sent something to your place. he’s like that. doesn’t even ask, just takes care of it. if it’s cold out, he’s dropping off a coat. if it rains, a brand new umbrella’s somehow at your work's door.

one night, you're scrolling through insta, and there’s this photo of him at some fancy work event, all dressed up in a suit and tie. goddamn, you think, biting your lip, because who knew seungcheol could clean up like that? the suit hugs every muscle, and it’s wild how he can look that good in anything from sweats to formalwear. you double-tap, and not two minutes later, he’s texting you.

“you like that one?”

you don’t even bother playing coy. “nah, I loved that one.”

there’s a pause, and you can almost picture him blushing on the other end, even though you’re the one getting all flustered.

“well, maybe you’ll get to see it in person soon,” he shoots back, and there’s a teasing edge to it, the same one that’s been driving you absolutely crazy since you started talking.

you roll your eyes, but your heart’s doing that dumb fluttery thing again. “maybe,” you reply, playing along.

and it’s like, you’re not even sure how this all happened so fast, but seungcheol? he’s always making sure you’re good, like his whole day revolves around making you smile, checking in, making sure you're eating, keeping warm. it’s low-key intense but in the best way possible.

and somehow, between all the little text convos and the insta stalking, you’ve found yourself seriously catching feelings for this dad with the cutest kid, the sweetest heart, and a whole-ass gym routine that’s absolutely unfair.

and you wonder: how the hell did you get this lucky?

seungcheol's always been like that—taking care of you like it’s second nature, probably because he’s used to being in dad-mode 24/7. you kinda feel spoiled, in the best way possible. he’s always looking out for you. it’s not that he’s overbearing; it’s just that this is how he shows he cares. but you know it goes both ways.

so one day, you decide to return the favor. you find this pink polo, something that screams him but in the softest, most endearing way. you know his daughter will love it too, ‘cause she’s all about pink and matching with her dad. you send it to him without saying much, just a little note saying, “thought this would look good on you.” the next time you see him, he's wearing it, and yeah, the shirt hugs his body perfectly. he’s acting like it’s no big deal, but you catch the way he blushes when you compliment him. “didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, but his eyes are softer than usual, that little glint of he’s falling harder than he planned.

but what really seals the deal is how u handle his daughter. every time you two try to plan a date, something comes up—his mom’s busy, or the babysitter falls through, and suddenly, the whole night’s flipped. instead of a fancy dinner, you’re headed to the park or some kid-friendly café, making sure his little girl has fun. and somehow, you end up having more fun on those “ruined” dates, watching seungcheol let loose, running around with his kid while you cheer them on. it’s like you get him, get his life, and he’s not used to that.

and then, finally, one night, the stars align. his mom takes the kid for the weekend, and it’s just you and him. alone.

and oh god, does he reward you.

he’s been holding back for weeks—months even. all that pent-up frustration, that tension from constantly having to play the responsible dad while trying to not let himself get too attached to you, it all comes crashing down.

he’s rough, no question about it. but it’s the kind of rough that makes your whole body sing. his hands are everywhere, grabbing, holding, pressing you up against walls and furniture like he’s desperate to feel every inch of you at once. he’s strong, and he knows it, lifting you like you weigh nothing, carrying you from one spot to the next without breaking a sweat.

the first time, it’s almost frantic. he’s pounding into you like he’s afraid the moment’s gonna slip through his fingers, grunting into your ear, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. your legs wrap around him, but you can hardly hold on—he’s relentless, hitting that spot over and over until you’re crying out, body shaking violently.

you don’t even realize your legs are spasming until hours later, when you try to stand and nearly collapse from how shaky you are. but seungcheol’s not done. oh no. he’s far from done.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s down between your legs, eating you out like a man famished. this time, it’s slower his tongue doing things that make you arch off the bed, hands fisting in his hair as he drags you to the edge again, then pulls you back just to do it all over. every time you think you’re about to lose it, he eases up, grinning against your skin like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

and yeah, maybe it’s been ages for him, but fuck, the man knows how to destroy you. by the time he’s done, you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, heart flying from your chest, your body so sensitive that even the thought of him touching you again makes you shudder.

seungcheol though, he’s the type to take his time. slow and unshakable, like he’s gotta be absolutely sure before he makes any big moves. but with you? he’s struggling. there’s this itch under his skin, this need to lock it down, put a ring on your finger, make it official. and yeah, he’d never say it out loud, not yet. he’s got too much pride to come off that desperate. but every time he watches you with his daughter, every time she calls you her “best friend” or shows you the drawing she made of you three as a family, he’s fighting the urge to drop down on one knee and ask you to make it real.

he hides it well, though, keeps up the usual routine. he keeps taking you out on dates, some with his little girl tagging along, others just the two of you. and he’s always scolding you whenever you show up with yet another gift for her.

“y/n, you’ve gotta stop,” he groans, shaking his head as you hand his daughter a set of pink hair clips that match her favorite doll. “she’s gonna expect something every week at this point.”

but there’s that soft look in his eyes, the one that betrays how much he loves seeing you spoil his kid. he’ll roll his eyes, but you notice how he always says “my girls” now, so casually like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you and her. his girls.

one day, he takes you to her father’s day presentation at school. you’re not sure who’s more nervous, seungcheol or his daughter. but when she walks on stage in her tiny tutu, all giggles and shy smiles, it’s seungcheol who completely loses it. you’re sitting beside him, watching him tear up before she’s even started dancing. by the time the performance is over, he’s full-on crying, holding his face in his hands as you rub his back, trying to calm him down.

“it’s just… she’s growing up so fast,” he sniffs, looking up at you with watery eyes, completely unashamed of the tears streaming down his face. and you can’t help but love him more for it, for how much he loves his daughter, for how raw and real he is when it comes to her.

your intimate life? that’s been steady too, despite how busy things get. with a kid around, it’s not always easy to find the time, but seungcheol makes sure you’re never left wanting. there are the quickies, yeah, when his daughter’s asleep and you’ve got the living room to yourselves, stealing a heated make-out session that somehow ends up with your back pressed against the couch cushions, his hands roaming under your clothes while he kisses you senseless.

but if things get too feral, you two will sneak off to the laundry room or the closet, anywhere you can get a little privacy. he’s fast, efficient, but still so thorough, making sure you’re fully satisfied every single time. it’s like, no matter how quick things have to be, he’s always got this laser focus on making you feel good.

but even with all the passion, he’s still got that soft side. sometimes, it’s just enough to make out on the couch, your lips swollen from kissing, the weight of him pressed against you. and in those moments, there’s this quiet comprehension between you two. you don’t need the sex to feel connected—sometimes, just being close is enough.

but it’s getting harder for him to hold back. every time he sees you playing with his daughter, every time she asks if you’re coming over for dinner, he feels it. that pull. that urge to make you his. and one night, after his daughter’s fallen asleep and the two of you are tangled up on the couch, catching your breath after another one of those wild, stolen moments, he looks at you, really looks at you, and the words just fall out of his mouth.

“marry me.”

it’s not planned, not rehearsed. hell, he hadn’t even thought about it until the moment the words slipped out. but once they’re out there, he realizes he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. his hand tightens around yours, and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s already bracing himself for the answer.

and all you can think is, finally.

[mourningcttlfsh]

(warning for screen reader users!! this post is probably mostly illegible) just remembered i can use my account to say whatever i want. anway I AM SO FUCKING DOWN BAD FOR ONE OF MY FRIENDS LROD HELP MEEEE GIVE ME STRENTGH I CABNOT DO THIS ANYMLRE I CANNOT!!!!! PLEASE HELP MEEE IT HAS BEEN OVER SIX MONTHS HE IS NOT EVEN THAT MUCH OF A GOOD PERSON PLEASE FPR THE LOVE OF GOD HELP I HAVE TRIED GIVI NG MYSELF THE ICK WHEN I THINK OF HIM BUT NOTHING WORKS!!!!!

and im too embarrassed to speak about it to my sister or my best friend because its just. such a stupid situation also i literally told my best friend months ago that i did not like the guy anymore because i thought i didnt but I STILL DOO!!!!!! to make things worse we (me and my bestie) suspect the friend likes THEM (them referring to my bestie) w hi ich. GAHAGAHGAHHTHHTHHGG WWAAAAHHHHHH 👎👎👎👎 GRREAAAAAAGHAHGHHHHHGHGHHH UHGGUGUGUH sorry for how unrefined this post is it is comitnnstraight from my heart and also sorrybfor the sspekling errors i cannot rigtb now