#i am so Tired of seeing this sentiment

[squid-of-anger]

It absolutely does matter that one of the first insults thrown at men is about their dick size, and also that have Big Dick Energy is seen as such a compliment. There are literal billions of men who feel ashamed or overly sexualized because of these comments. Why is it okay to body shame men about this, but no one else? We talk about how fat jokes are demeaning and hurtful, but joking about the size of someone's penis, which is COMPLETELY OUT OF THEIR CONTROL, is okay? This may be inconsequential to you but it's devastating for some people. There are so many other ways you can insult someone who's being awful that don't involve their body. Why choose something that will hurt innocent bystanders when you don't have to?

if you're genuinely bothered that greta thunberg told andrew tate his dick is small then i truly think you should cause some problems in your life to keep you busy because you clearly have too much free time to worry about shit that Does Not Matter.

[marblerose-rue]

it is my birthday today!!!

[valinoar]

now imagine if rhaenyra defended alicent the way they had her doing all season. imagine that

[merakiui]

Your tags talking about being alone in the woods with jade made me think of this one thought I had bouncing around in my brain for a while. The thought of being alone with jade at night at the campsite you both put together, sitting by the campfire while drinking something he "borrowed" from the lounge stocks and getting buzzed from it. The innocent touches (which were really just him using the opportunity to getting ever so closer to you) slowly turn into him fucking you into the dirt while you're on your hands and knees.

Sorry if my utter depravity for the eel man bothered you. Your tags made me think of it and I had to let it out.

Omg yes... this is the dream. OTL getting drunk in the forest with Jade and then getting railed into the ground. <3

Imagine if the two of you aren't even that close to begin with. You're only staying in the forest to gather materials because you're partners for a project in Professor Crewel's class. But when Jade reveals a bottle of some pretty-looking liquid and tells you it's come right from the lounge's secret stocks, you have trouble denying him. Jade's good at making the worst ideas sound so pleasant, which is exactly how the two of you end up buzzed and whisper-giggling about the silliest of things around a crackling bonfire.

Alcohol always makes strangers seem so much more attractive, and the amber glow from the dancing flames highlights Jade's handsome features so nicely. You realize he's much closer than he was before, his shoulder practically touching yours as he leans in. Under normal circumstances, Jade would never be this intimate with someone he hardly knows, let alone the human Azul's tasked him with gathering information on (it's strictly business, or so he'll lie). But he can blame the alcohol for that come morning when the sun's risen and the fire is but mere ash and still-warm embers.

It's only natural that teasing, experimental touches will snowball into something more deliberate when inebriation guides you closer to lustful attraction. Wandering hands, fleeting smooches, the shedding of pesky clothes... You'll be on your knees before you know it, with your face pressed into your arms to muffle your moans, while Jade's pounding sloppily into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips so roughly his fingertips leave crescent-shaped indents in your skin. You'll spend a good portion of the night fucking in all sorts of positions, and come morning you'll wake in the tent, curled into each other like two perfect puzzle pieces.

There's a heavy silence that thickens in the air when both of you realize your proximity and slowly detach yourselves. You gather your clothes in awkward silence, dressing as quickly as possible alongside Jade. He tells you he's content with never speaking of what occurred if you are, and you agree immediately. What happens in the forest stays in the forest. You make this truce with a mouth full of granola and a mounting sense of embarrassment.

After taking the tent down, packing your supplies, and cleaning your area, you set off for NRC. Jade spies the bruising bite mark on your neck, just slightly higher than the collar of your shirt and completely visible to anyone who might be looking. He can't help the amused smirk that crawls onto his face. That'll be there for the rest of the week.

And so will your image in his mind, apparently.

[siena-sevenwits]

💎

[the-yearning-astronaut]

Oh hello 3am existential crisis. Haven't seen you around in a while...can't say I missed you.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

It is so fun that there’s one certain fandom nowadays that I spent my time writing fics for.

Yet, the fics that I have noticed have gotten the most ”cult following” is my asoue fics. It is so fun, becuse a lot of those fics are so old by now I barely remember what I myself wrote, but people tell me that scenes from those still live in their heads. Hearing that something little me wrote lives in the heads of people?? That means so much!

I myself often think of my asoue prime time era as being inexperienced, nervous and being unsure if anything I wrote was good. I was so afraid of people judging me for what I wrote - especially because the first asoue fic I posted was a chatfic on FF.net, who after I posted it I got a comment saying ”you can’t post fics like this because chatfics are not real fics and posting it takes away the spotlight from people who write real fics”. So I was so unsure how people on ao3 would react.

I had barely posted fics before, english is not my first language and I got comments that my ”structure” was bad because I kept every scene in a big chunk of a text like it would be in a real book, because to those readers, they needed space between every new dialogue and instead of giving me feedback they just gave me unprompted ”writing advice”… but to stop the complaints, I started slowly leave bigger spaces, but it was also still weirdly structed, basically random smaller chunks paired up with no real pattern. In retrospect, I do agree large chunks of text are a bit annoying in fics, but that’s how it is in normal books and in normal books it’s no problem. I don’t know why it is like that, but anyway nowadays I have a space between every new dialouge… though tbh, I don’t know if I would have preffered to have learn that on my own as I progress as a writer, or like it was now, that I got unprompted writing advice that ”my fic is unreadable” because I had it as a big chunk of text. Unprompted writing advice is rarely appreciated and I think more people need to learn the fandom etiquette that if you haven’t ASKED for constructive critism, don’t give it. Even if you ”mean well”. It’s not fun to be excited to see reader’s reactions and the only thing you get is ”this writing structure is bad”. For me it caused me to change it because I felt ashamed that it was ”unreadable” instead of me figuring it out on my own as I progress my writing skills.

However, comments like that have always been in the minority. Because 90% of it were people being so excited, supportive and wonderful. I was filled with such serotonin. And now, today, I still get so flattered that people even remember what I wrote - cause I’ve posted 80+ fics at this point, I don’t even remember much of the plot in a third of them. I have read fics like that myself that I’ve read and remembered scenes out of so vividly, and I could have only dreamt that people would have thought the same of my fics.

Even if I don’t write that much asoue fics anymore, it still is with me. I have an asoue au right now, which is completely other characters from another fandom simply living the plot of asoue. This far that fic is not that popular yet what I know of, I have not gotten any comments except for one on the first chapter, but I don’t know. Maybe it has a lot of silent readers (even if I prefer comments over anything else). But we will see, maybe it will reach the same cult following one day, or maybe any fic I’ve written for another fandom will.

I’m so happy and sometimes pleasantly surprised that these silly little fics I wrote about these unfortunate characters left such a print on people 🩷

[todayisafridaynight]

'im gonna sleep' he lied

[lesenbyan]

"hahahah ideal number of texans is 1 bc look at the state of affairs in texas" how about you drown in a fucking toilet.

[astrxealis]

its hard for me to listen to 'our light' bcs wnvr i do i always look at the lyrics again and i just want to cry so badly

[swarmkeepers]

.

[bethanydelleman]

I'm really tired of the "woman sad about her arranged marriage" trope, especially if that woman is royalty.

I am sure that many women across time were sad about their arranged marriages, but I'm sure a lot of others were excited, ambivalent, or resigned. Again, especially if you were royalty! I am sure if you were born a princess, you were trained from birth that your whole purpose in life was to marry someone important to solidify the power of the person on the throne. And honestly, it's an important job, if it wasn't, they wouldn't have tried so hard to do it.

That woman isn't just marrying another king or prince, she's going to be an ambassador of her country. She's supposed to be there promoting good relations. She isn't just a woman being sold off, she has a job! Also, if she is marrying the reigning monarch (or the heir), she may well end up running the country if the king is off at war or he dies when the heir is really young. That happened a lot throughout history! (or maybe she marries the third son and helps him find his way to the throne. Good for her)

It just feels like a modern sentiment being projected back. In Romeo and Juliet, when Juliet's mother first brings up marrying her to Paris, Juliet's basically cool with it and says she'll try to like him. She would have known this was going to happen because that is what rich women do, they marry into another family so their two families can be buddies. What else would she even be expecting?

It wouldn't bother me so much except that it's all we see! Give me a story about a woman who is like, "Cool, I shall give it my all!" Or she's like rolling up her sleeves and planning how she's going to get the court on her side and rule France, power behind the throne style (these women are mostly portrayed as villains, but who is to say the king would do a better job?). And also, have a little faith in women's fathers? You think men in the past didn't occasionally consider the happiness of their daughters? Not even a little bit?

[snekdood]

dawg i was having a disagreement with a trans girl on reddit and she stopped responding which i was like. whatever. but then someone else responded to our convo thread and she was like "im being read in bad faith unu" and then the person responded "im sorry that happened to you" like i fucking punched her?????????? can yall maybe not infantalize trans women, reverse sexism isnt it.

[imsorryimlate]

tags from @oleworm

Sickening 🤮🤮

[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

[fingertipsmp3]

Finding out one of your (formerly) favourite coworkers is a homophobe is so painful. Everyone loses