#y’all are more helpful

[homosherb]

“i thought you hated straight couples??”

how DARE YOU assume i would EVER mean them

[stealingyourbones]

Danny gets flung into an alternate dimension and crash lands directly into a Justice Society of America meeting.

[anotherdescentintomadness]

Happy Birthday, Lan WangJi!

Just a little painting to celebrate my favorite cultivator’s birthday. 🩵

[turbotastico]

Homosexual Turblo and Angst Turblo

I don’t know how to caption this

[exy-shmexy]

Idk but maybe Aaron starts stress baking during finals season and Andrew gets to reap the benefits of this sudden invasion of cakes, sweets and other sugary biscuits in their tiny dorm kitchen

[aventuras-de-andre]

when i say bbc’s merlin changed me as a person i don’t mean it introduced to me to arthurian mythology or anything, i mean that the line ‘I always thought you were the bravest man I ever met… guess I was wrong’ made me feel levels of fury my 12-year-old self did not know she was capable of

[lvrrgirlll]

Valentine’s Day with Mr. Big!Patrick…

~2k words, smut under the cut, mdni

Another February 14th in New York City. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and you were… alone.

You hadn’t talked to Patrick in 3 days, which may not have seemed like a lot, but to you, it was a lot. You worried you two were slipping out of the honeymoon phase already, despite the fact that you’d only been dating for 2 months so far, and didn’t know what to do. You had spent the night with him 3 nights ago, and all was going well. That was until you mentioned Valentine’s Day.

“So… y’know what’s in 3 days,” you asked as you traced little hearts onto his toned bicep, offering him a goofy grin.

He chuckled a bit, his gravely ‘morning voice’ still very apparent and striking a chord somewhere deep within you. “Uhh… Friday?” His eyes crinkled as he grinned. He was like this. So devilishly handsome, so effortlessly adorable, and so painfully clueless. You often couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not, because he was, in some ways, a mystery to you even after all this time.

You chose to hope he was only kidding and smiled, rolling your eyes playfully. “Ha ha, very funny. It’s Friday but it’s also…” you attempted to prompt him, looking at him expectantly.

“Friday the 13th? I’ve got nothing sweetheart, why don’t you just tell me…” he replied smoothly, though it was anything but the answer you were hoping for. He pulled you into his arms and onto his chest when he spoke, leaving you unable to avoid his now obvious genuine lack of awareness at what holiday was right around the corner.

“You really don’t know?” He shook his head again. You couldn’t stand this. Sighing and slumping your head down onto his bare chest, you murmured into his skin “it’s Valentine’s Day.”

After you gave it away, he was surprised at how much you seemed to value the holiday and you were, in all honesty, pissed that he hadn’t realized or seemed to care once you told him. He acted like it was… just something silly. But what’s silly about love?

You had kissed him and then left, citing some meeting with your editor, expecting him to call later that night to apologize for being so careless. But when no such apology came, you were left confused and nearing a wallowing state, leaving you alone on Valentine’s Day.

You reached for the phone, hoping to call up your girl friends and see if they were also alone and wanted to get together, but right as you were about to pick it up, it began to rang. Picking it up immediately, you were pleasantly surprised to be met with Patrick’s voice.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” It was smooth. Maybe too smooth. But it was Valentine’s Day, after all. You were just happy to hear his voice.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you practically squealed back, flopping onto your bed as you twirled the phone cord in your finger.

“So I was thinking… you and me, we should spend the day together. I wanna take you out. I thought we’d start with a little walk around the city, I may or may not already have some flowers for you… and then we can go by that new cafe that just opened up for a late breakfast/early lunch-“

You cut him off then with an eager “yes!” “And then this evening I’ve sort of been invited to this Vogue Valentine’s party, it’s supposed to be really chic and classy, if you’d want to be my plus one…”

You can practically hear the smirk when his voice ripples through the phone. “Oh, I’d love to be your plus one.” You wanted to do a happy dance right there in your apartment. You were back in the game! “So I’ll meet you outside your apartment in 30 minutes?”

Your day from there was nothing short wonderful. He showed up at your door with a big bouquet of fresh, red roses, probably at least fifty, maybe a hundred. It was clear he spared no expense. As the two of you strolled through the city, it felt as if those three days hadn’t mattered at all, and maybe you were just overreacting, because here and now, this felt like it. Over brunch at the cafe —which was incredibly chic, by the way— the two of you discussed valentines past and laughed about all of the ridiculousness of your old relationships.

Of course, he mentioned how he didn’t like to celebrate Valentine’s Day normally, even being such a ladies’ man. He took the position of most men in Manhattan in corporate America: that it was “a commercial holiday made to sell chocolate, flowers, jewelry, and stuffed animals to poor saps who had to shower their wives or girlfriends with gifts and to lonely people wanting to drown their sorrows alike.” He was such a businessman. You had to remind him, then, that he had bought into it by buying you such nice roses, to which he only shot you a crooked smile accompanied by a wink, commenting “well you’re worth it.” God, you could just melt.

After brunch the two of you took the long way back to your apartment, walking through the park a bit. You marveled at all the sweet couples while he made cynical, sarcastic comments about how much they probably secretly hated each other. It wasn’t like he had an aversion to love, quite the opposite actually, but again, he was a businessman…

When you finally reached your apartment, you parted ways with a passionate kiss on your front steps. “Pick you up at eight?” He asked, smiling down at you lazily.

“Eight’s perfect,” you hummed.

“Knowing you, you’ll still be doing your hair at eight, but y’know you’re worth the wait,” he joked, kissing you again before starting off. “I’ll be here at eight, hold me to it,” he shouted as you parted ways.

“Oh, I will!”

He was right about what he’d said, dammit. You were obviously running late, per usual. You had picked out a dress, a satiny, red little number that didn’t leave much to the imagination. And actually your hair and makeup was done. It was the shoes you couldn’t decide on!

Patrick sat on your bed as you rummaged through your closet, hoping to find the elusive ‘perfect pair of shoes.’ “So what do these shoes look like exactly,” he called out, looking over the scattered pile of heels and pumps that laid not too far from his feet.

“I don’t know! I’ll know them when I see them… I just need the perfect shoes to go with this dress,” you insisted. At that, he scoffed.

“I think I like the dress better without much else on you…” he attempted to flirt with you, but this was no lighthearted matter. It was the Vogue party and you needed the perfect shoes. You rummaged around a bit more, reaching into the depths of your closet before you found a kitten heeled sandal with a floral detail. It was perfect!

“Ok, we can go now,” you exclaimed, posing in the doorway of your closet for him. His eyes raked over your body, jaw slack. He moved to check his watch, then.

“And only 30 minutes late,” he remarked, quirking an eyebrow as a silent ‘I told ya.’

“Hey, we’re fashionably late…”

The party was nice, with an open bar and goodie bags with Chanel and Dior samples, you couldn’t complain. It was a bit… tame, though. After some schmoozing, introducing Patrick to some writers you knew and basking in the ‘oh, you two make such a hot couple’-s, you both were ready to leave.

“What’s say we get outta here and go back to my place…” he whispered into your ear, dipping down to place a kiss onto your shoulder as he took the empty glass out of your hand, handing it to one of the many waiters patrolling the event. You looked around, mostly to make sure that you had talked to everyone you needed to, before turning to him and smiling.

“I’d like that.”

Back at his apartment, Patrick offered you some wine and even pulled out some chocolate covered strawberries for you two to enjoy. It was lovely, but that didn’t last long, both your burning desires for each other bubbling up like champagne popping from a bottle.

You were making out on his couch, the view of the city from his window underscoring the moment perfectly, as the Empire State Building lit up in a heart. “Oh, Pat, look…” you pulled away to point it out. He only hummed in response, pulling you back in and mumbling into your lips how it was ‘sweet.’

Eventually, you two moved from the couch to his king sized bed, the Egyptian cotton sheets cascading around you as he ravaged you. His lips were all over you like he was a man starved. He tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it up and off of you in moments, marveling at your beauty.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to me…” he mumbled, more so to himself, sighing. He then freed himself of his finely tailored suit, moving back to you, the feeling of skin on skin so tender and so intimate. He brought his lips to your chest, pressing hot kisses to your skin and tonguing at you teasingly. It made you giggle and your face screw up in pleasure all at the same time.

“Pat…” you whined, looking at him with a needy pout. He only smirked at that.

“Yeah, okay, okay, I know I shouldn’t tease… it is Valentine’s Day after all. Let me show you how much I care…” He tugged his boxers down, pulling your panties to the side and sliding in easily, a breathy groan escaping his lips as his eyes shut. You gasped as he began to move, first at a steady pace, then quickening soon after, as if he couldn’t help himself.

“I missed ‘ya, honey,” he panted as he thrust in and out of you swiftly. “I’m sorry I was a dick about Valentine’s Day. You’ve-“ he hit especially deep, causing you to moan and squeeze tightly around him. “Y- you’ve shown me just how good it can be...” He leaned in to kiss you, stifling you moans as he still moved in and out at an impossible speed. You were overwhelmed by pleasure and adoration. As he shoved into you, you kissed and bit down lightly on his shoulder, trying to contain yourself, knowing he liked to finish together.

He knew you were almost there and he didn’t want to keep you waiting. Moving even quicker, if it was even possible, he felt that familiar heat, knowing then that he was ready. “I’m there baby- fuck… c’mon.” One of his hands was tangled in your hair but the other one came down to rub at your clit, making your hips buck up as you gasped.

“Fuck, Pat, I’m gonna…m’gonna…” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as your release overtook your body, feeling him come down too. He pulled out, laying next to you and pulling your body close to his and kissing your forehead.

“Can I tell you something,” he asked, voice muffled as he spoke into your hair.

“Sure,” you muse back. He sounded sweet, contemplative, as if he might finally say those three little words… (‘I love you.’)

“I am so glad you’re on the pill…” he chuckled dryly, leaving you to roll your eyes and flick him in the arm. You relationship may have been a bit rough around the edges, but hey, it was yours.

[phleb0tomist]

did you grow up with chronic pain? did you get called sensitive as a kid/teen with chronic pain? were you bombarded with wisecracks from adults who said you won’t know real pain till you get older? join my initiative to ban this vile practice from planet earth!

i had chronic pain as a kid. (still do now.) my physical ability was best in childhood, like, i could do cartwheels then, meanwhile i can’t walk now. but istg my pain was regularly at this very same level back in childhood. ok i have extra symptoms now which make things harder, but if we’re JUST focusing on the pain part, it’s often the same. this blows my mind. the level of pain that i have now, bedbound and with opioids and a million accommodations, is the same level i had when i was 10 when i was just walkin around all day, asking my teachers nicely if i could sit indoors during playtime. (they said no btw.) back then, every time i tried to tell people how much everything hurt, adults said i was “sensitive”.

was i sensitive? is that what i was?

I think i must have been insanely powerful as a 10 year old to be out and about with a level of pain that makes me nonfunctional as an adult. I wonder how many kids and teens are in that amount of pain right now and are being dismissed because of their age. i think the way adults treat children with long term pain is evil. “you don’t know real pain! it only gets worse as you get older! wait till you grow up!!”

okay i waited.

i’m closer to 30 now than i am to 10, and the more hindsight i gain, the more i realise what a horrific violation it is that my pain was ignored when i was the most vulnerable to the trauma of unmanaged pain and had the least frame of reference for what level of agony is normal to experience while climbing stairs

[smilesrobotlover]

Small Revali’s for anyone who needs it. This guy has me in a chokehold

[ohno-wallace]

Oh they think they’re so slick, sneaking around the palace walls like that.

[yakultii]

28 October / I think it’s gonna be okay guys !

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

bangtan boys in turtlenecks (10/??) ↳ cr. 0613data, dwellingsouls | bonus striped sope for @raplinenthusiasts:

[fuumiku]

Happy new year!!

Some doodles I did today to unwind + test a lineart brush

[justanotherjaydrawing]

In a bit of a low mood today, so here is a high energy boy because I adore him.

[i-really-like-phrogs]

When someone else’s art is so good you physically can’t look at it because of artistic jealousy

[chirpsythismorning]

The way fans on the st sub are almost all in agreement Nancy ending up with neither Jon nor Steve wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and how they can even come up with a sleuth of reasons as to why, honestly pretty valid and fair reasons, but then are absolutely gobsmacked when fans merely speculate something along those lines for El is, quite something.