#💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭“yours”

[sillygoose067]

hi!! is it possible for you to write one for lewis pullman in general or bob floyd inspired by this

Hi! Yes of COURSE it’s possible, I’m so glad you asked :) I chose to do Lewis for this one, but maybe in the future I’ll do a Bob Floyd version… 🤔💭

Also the tweet itself is so funny I swear I’ve seen it like 50 other times and still laughed at it. Thanks for bringing it back!

———————————————————————————-

Plus One, Minus Me

Lewis Pullman x Reader

You were halfway through another spreadsheet, fingers stiff from typing, when your phone started to buzz across the desk. The screen lit up with a name that made the corners of your mouth soften—Lew💞.

You tucked the phone between your shoulder and ear, already grateful for the break. “Hey, you,” you said, brushing a crumb from your lap. “What’s up?”

His voice came through, winded. “Quick question—where are you?”

You frowned faintly, clicking away from the screen. “Um. At work? Still chained to the desk. Why?”

There was a shuffle on the other end. Distant laughter. A thud, like someone had dropped something nearby. And then—faintly—a child's voice calling for someone named "Captain Lewis."

“…Wait,” you said, straightening up. “Where are you?”

“I’m at your family’s place?” he replied, like it was obvious. “The cookout. The one you told me about last week?”

Your brain did a somersault. You yanked open your calendar. June 25th — Family cookout, 3 PM — backyard, bring something sweet?

Oh god. You had told him.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “I completely forgot.”

“I thought you were just running late,” he said, unbothered. “Your mom texted me the address this morning, so I just showed up. Figured it'd be polite to shake some hands and make a quiet exit.”

You groaned, already burying your face in one hand. “I had back-to-back reports this morning. I didn’t even think—I’m so sorry—wait, how are you even surviving out there? My family’s like, full-contact socializing.”

There was a brief silence, and then a huff of laughter.

“Yeah, I didn’t really get a choice. Your aunt handed me a pair of tongs before I even finished saying hello. I’ve grilled, stacked chairs, lost a round of trivia, and now I’m being roped into a scavenger hunt by your cousin? I think I’m her team captain now?”

You could almost see him: sleeves rolled up, awkwardly trying to blend in, probably blushing his way through small talk while balancing a paper plate.

“Lewis,” you sighed, equal parts charmed and horrified.

But he didn’t hear it. His voice had shifted, distracted again. “Wait—someone’s calling me—uh, hey, sorry, I can’t really talk right now, I’m being drafted into backyard dodgeball. Your dad’s on the opposing team and he’s been warming up for ten minutes—I think he’s taking this personally—okay, gotta go—bye!”

Click.

You blinked.

He hung up.

He actually hung up on you.

To play dodgeball.

At your family’s cookout.

That you forgot about.

A scoff caught in your throat—half disbelieving, half amazed. You shook your head and stared at the phone like it had betrayed you. Moments later, a message came in.

A photo. Blurry but full of motion. Lewis in the foreground, red-cheeked and triumphant, clutching a foam ball like a prize. Behind him: your dad mid-sprint, your cousin ducking for cover. Someone had stuck a makeshift nametag on Lewis’s shirt. It read: “TEAM MVP.���

Then came the text:

Lew💞: “Tell me this counts as cardio. Also tell your mom I’m winning? Sort of.”

You felt a smile start somewhere deep and involuntary. A quiet warmth that spread beneath your ribs.

You: “I can’t believe you’re just out there bonding with my entire family without me:(”

Lew💞: “Yeah, well. Someone had to represent you. I’m doing my best. Now if you’ll excuse me, your uncle just pulled out the water balloons.”

Pause.

Lew💞(follow-up): “P.S. Tell your boss you’re missing a great pasta salad.”

———

You managed to finish up your shift a little after sunset, eyes heavy and brain gelatinous from too many hours of spreadsheets and fluorescent lights. But as soon as you clocked out, your feet moved on instinct. You barely thought about it—just turned the wheel and pointed your car in the direction of home. Or at least, the temporary version of it: your parents’ house, backyard still glowing with string lights and the leftover echo of laughter.

By the time you pulled up, most of the chaos had thinned. The crowd had quieted to clusters of folding chairs and flickering citronella candles. A few cousins darted around with glow sticks; someone had put on an old playlist, the kind that lived in your family’s blood more than memory.

You stepped into the yard with a breath held like a confession.

Your parents were at the patio table, sipping something warm, plates scraped mostly clean. Your mom saw you first. Her eyes lit up, though she didn’t rise—just waved you over with a small smile.

“I’m so sorry,” you said as soon as you reached them. “I completely spaced. Work swallowed me whole.”

Your dad waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. We figured you’d show up when you could.”

“Besides,” your mom said, patting your arm. “Lewis made up for both of you.”

You blinked. “He did?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she said, grinning. “He’s been playing referee, grill assistant, magician, babysitter, and apparently—”

Your dad cut in. “—the reigning water balloon dodge champion.”

You laughed, cheeks warming. “Where is he now?”

Your mom stood, nodding for you to follow her through the side of the yard. “He wore himself out. The little ones ran him into the ground.”

You passed the garden hose, a collapsed beach ball, and a pair of soaked sneakers—evidence of earlier warfare—and then turned the corner into the screened-in sunroom.

There he was. Sprawled on the old futon like a crime scene outline, one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes. His shirt was damp, hair tousled, and someone had draped a beach towel over him like a blanket. Your youngest cousin had left a juice box balanced precariously on his chest.

You stood in the doorway and just stared for a second. He looked so comfortable. Like he belonged there. Like your family had absorbed him fully, and he’d let it happen.

“He kept saying he wasn’t tired,” your mom said quietly behind you. “Then he sat down for one second and passed out like a light.”

You glanced at her, grateful.

“Thanks for looking after him.”

She touched your back, light as a whisper. “He fits, sweetheart. Good one, that boy.”

You smiled, then stepped forward to kneel by the futon. You gently moved the juice box, then brushed a hand along his arm. “Hey,” you murmured. “Ready to head home?”

He stirred, blinking slowly, smile groggy and crooked. “Did we win?”

“You definitely lost consciousness, so… sort of.”

He laughed under his breath, voice husky with sleep. “Your cousin is terrifying. I think I work for her now.”

“Come on,” you said, nudging him upright. “Let’s get you out of here before she demands overtime.”

You guided him to the car, waving your goodbyes over your shoulder as he leaned sleepily against you, still radiating warmth from all the attention and adrenaline. And as you drove, his head tipped gently against the window, you couldn’t help but marvel at it all.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the stars were out and the air had that summer hush to it—cool against your skin, the kind of quiet that only arrives after a long, noisy day.

Lewis was half-asleep again in the passenger seat, arms folded, head resting against the window like he might be dreaming something sweet. You hated to wake him, but the porch light flickered on as the car door opened, and he stirred on his own, rubbing at his eyes.

“Home?” he murmured.

You nodded. “Just about.”

Inside, you helped him kick off his shoes while he yawned like a cartoon character. He dropped his keys twice, then muttered something about how your cousins had “the combined energy of a nuclear plant.” You snorted as you tossed the spare blanket from the couch over his shoulders and went to fetch a glass of water.

When you came back, he was standing in the kitchen doorway, eyes soft and half-lidded, just watching you.

“You’re staring,” you said, offering him the glass.

He took it with both hands, sipped, then said, “Your mom likes me.”

“She does.”

“Your dad said I throw like a ‘real man,’ which I think was a compliment.”

You laughed and leaned your hip against the counter. “You made quite the impression.”

He gave a sleepy smile. “I just didn’t want them to miss you too much.”

That made you pause. Then step forward.

And tuck a hand into the curve of his elbow.

“I think you distracted them just fine.”

You guided him to the couch and sat down beside him, legs curled under you, shoulder brushing his. He exhaled, deep and slow, like he was finally letting go of the day.

After a moment, you reached over, gently pulling a stray blade of grass from his hair.

He watched you with that look of his—soft, a little amused, all affection.

“Thanks for showing up,” you said quietly.

He blinked. “Of course.”

“No, I mean… not just for me. For them. For being there, even when I wasn’t. You didn’t have to.”

He leaned back, head tilted, eyes studying you in that unassuming way of his. Then: “Yeah, but you love them. And I love you. It’s not that complicated.”

Your breath caught a little. Because of how easy, how logical he made it sound.

And how right it felt, hearing it here, in this quiet pocket of the night, after everything.

You didn’t say anything right away. Just reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his.

Outside, a cricket chirped somewhere in the dark. The kind of sound that only made silence feel more full, not less.

Eventually, he sank sideways into the cushions and pulled you gently with him.

And there, tangled together on the couch, your fingers still warm in his, you revelled in this love you'd found.

[esotericcangel]

💭 thinking about rafe who uses sex as a replacement for his coke addiction…

rafe has known you forever. you’ve stuck by him through some of his hardest times, through wards death, his coke addiction… so consequently, it’s no surprise when you two start dating.

and shockingly, for once in his life, rafe realizes he wants to be better. for you. for himself. so, with a lot of support from you, he quits doing drugs. coke specifically.

and it’s not easy. obviously. there are nights where he wakes up in a cold sweat, body trembling and his heart racing like he just did a couple lines, but he knows it’s just the withdrawals. and luckily for him, you’re always there for him.

in more ways than one.

sex. rafe found it was the only thing that distracted him from his once drug addled mind, the warm comfort of you wrapped around him enough to flood out any thoughts of needing coke.

in the mornings, in the afternoons. sometimes even when you were both asleep. he’d wake up, badly trembling, gasp escaping his lips and when he was sure that nothing could soothe the ache in his chest, you were right there.

soft, warm, the smell of your perfume lingering on your skin. the one rafe loved, the one you wore because you knew he loved it.

“baby,” he murmured, his voice a raspy, gruff murmur, still not yet shaken from the confines of sleep. you hummed in response, body shifting, like you already knew what he needed. it was wordless permission in itself—the way you scooted your ass a little further so it nestled into his crotch, your mind still fuzzy with sleep, but awake enough to know what he needed.

and he’d oblige everytime, a soft breath of content leaving his lips, large hands massaging your hips gently as he toyed with the edges of your panties. he mouthed at your neck, warm soft kisses, hands easing your panties down to your mid thigh.

he was already flushed, leaking at the tip, his body begging for that sweet warmth only you could provide him.

and when he finally eased himself in, when both of your lips parted to release the softest of breaths, he felt safe. his nerves relaxed, his heart beat slowed. it felt safe. content.

he didn’t move for a bit, just savored the warmth around his, pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck, murmured sweet nothings.

“so perfect,” he whispered in your ear, his kiss bitten lips brushing the cartilage of your earlobe, easing his hips a little higher, starting a steady rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure up both of your spines, yours fuzzy, and dull, his more consuming.

“y’feel so good, baby.. ah, fuck..” he groaned low, hands holding your hips like a vice, the softest of whines escaping you, a symphony of noises filling the once silent space.

his orgasm always came fast, a tightening in his stomach, his hand wrapping around your torso, thumb rubbing circles onto your clit. and when you both were on your peak, about to fall off, he’d grab your jaw, pulling you into a messy kiss that was all teeth and tongue, spit mixing and making a lewd noise in the night.

it was later when he finally pulled out of you with a soft hiss, his body sensitive from his high, your breathing evening out as you rolled over, meeting rafe face first.

“feel better?” you murmured, soft and comforting, hand reaching out to stroke his head, eyes half lidded and blurry with sleep.

he leant into your touch, arms wrapped around your body like he was afraid to let go, like if he did, he’d wake up from the same withdrawals and realize this was all a dream.

“when i’m with you?” he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, holding back a smile when your eyes fully shut. “always, baby.”

rafe cameron masterlist ♡ want to join my taglist?

© 𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 please refrain from copying, translating or claiming my work as yours .ᐟ

🏷️: @winnie1emon @drewswife @urcoolgf @browniepop62 @angvl3tears

[satorus-princess]

oh to stuff satoru's mouth with his blindfold and ride him in his office chair

[spearbxcheol]

SpiderHan!

｡･:*˚:✧｡ ૮₍ ´• ˕ • ₎ა ｡✧:˚*:･｡

Spider-Man!Han Jisung x Reader.

𖤐 drabble/one-shot?, action, mild violence, implied hostage situation.

𖤐 SpiderHan really had its moment in the fandom and honestly?? we need that comeback, maybe i'll write more of him? 💭

Jisung rolled his eyes at the guy who tried to run away from him on the street. He had just caught him stealing from the 24/7 grocery store — and that wasn’t happening. Not on his watch.

“Hey! Do you seriously think you can outrun me?” Jisung’s voice rang out as the man started gaining distance. “It’s almost 3 a.m., and I promised myself I’d sleep early today. Don’t ruin this for me!”

As he finished complaining about the guy — now nearly turning the next corner — he pointed his hand, and the next thing he knew, his web shooter launched him forward at high speed. His spider-sense kept him safe, guiding him past obstacles and avoiding the lamppost just in time.

The thief didn’t even notice Spider-Man hanging from the lamppost ahead. Jisung could feel a smirk forming under his mask the moment the guy almost tripped from the shock of seeing him there. Jisung gave him a little wave.

“Oh my god!”

What neither of them noticed was you — standing there, frozen, eyes wide in shock. You’d only ever seen Spider-Man on the news, chasing bad guys... and now he was right in front of you. You snapped out of your trance when your dog started barking wildly, reminding you why you were even walking down the street at this hour in the first place.

But before you could grab your dog and walk away, the thief was faster. He yanked your arm, pulling you in front of him and pressing a knife to your throat. You gasped and shut your eyes.

“Back off and I’ll let them go!”

Jisung’s mind raced. It had all happened in a split second. Then he looked at you — and his eyes widened. You were Y/N. The same Y/N who always sat next to him in the class you both shared. You two would laugh at the dumb jokes the professor cracked mid-lecture. You weren’t close, but shared a mutual friend.

“Are you deaf, Spider-Boy?”

The man was holding you tightly, using your body as a shield between him and Spider-Man. Your dog — now off-leash because you’d dropped it — was barking non-stop. You opened your eyes and met the superhero’s gaze.

“Help me, please.” you mouthed.

Jisung didn’t hesitate. He aimed and shot a web at the man’s hand, pulling the knife away and tossing it aside. Then he leapt down from the lamppost, landing right in front of the two of you.

In one swift, precise move, Spider-Man pulled you behind him. You let out a breath, your heart racing. You stepped back as he grabbed the thief by the collar and punched him hard in the face, right on the nose.

The adrenaline surged in Jisung’s body. He had never saved someone he knew before — and now, with you, it all felt heavier. The real weight of his powers. It scared him.

He turned to you. You were holding your dog in your arms again, and even from where he stood, he could see you were shaking. When your eyes met the white lenses of his mask, you took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “I almost ruined everything.”

“No, you didn’t ruin anything,” Jisung said, his voice a little tight. He shook his head. “He’s the one who’s in the wrong here.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded. “And what about this little guy?” He extended a hand toward your dog, but was met with a bark.

“Sorry about him!” you apologized, trying to calm your dog, but Jisung smiled behind the mask.

“That’s good! He’s a good boy. Honestly, if I wasn’t here, I bet he would’ve saved you all by himself.” You let out a small laugh and nodded.

“Yeah…” The air between you both was strange. Your body was still trembling after what happened. It hadn’t been a great experience being held hostage at knifepoint. Spider-Man seemed awkward, completely unlike the reports you’d read online. Like he didn’t know what to do once the fighting stopped. And the thief? Still unconscious on the ground.

“I’m going home” you said. “Thanks for saving me, Spider-Man.”

Jisung felt his cheeks heat up at your smile and words. The only thing he could think to do was raise both thumbs up like an awkward teenager as you walked past him, heading back the way you came.

“That was painfully weird.” he muttered to himself, glancing at the guy on the ground. “Please don’t post anything weird about me on the internet…”

He sighed, walked over to the man, pinned him to the wall with webbing, and called the police. Another job by the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

[calcifers-embers]

What a critic finale

Let me know your thoughts 💭

[fictodreamer]

─── ⋆⋅🌙⋅⋆ ───

Sometimes life is just pure chaos. It’s loud, overwhelming & feels like everything is happening all at once.

But your F/O is still there…sitting next to you like it’s the easiest thing in the world to them! 🥹✨

No pressure to talk. No need to fix anything. Just there by your side. They squeeze your hand & it’s like the chaos gets a little quieter 💛💫✨

─── ⋆⋅🌙⋅⋆ ───

[heartbreakfeelsogood]

my 🙋 nine 🕘 to five 🕔 is cutting 🔪 open old scars 🩹 again 🔁 and again 🔂 til i’m stuck 🪤 in your 🫵 head 🤕 had my doubts ❓ but i let em out (🏳️‍🌈🤨) you 👉 are the drought 🙅💦 and i’m the holy ✝��� water 💧 you have been without 🚫 and ➕ all my thoughts 💭 of you 🫵 they could heat 🔥 or cool 🧊 the room 🚪 alone and oh ❗️ don’t ✋ tell me 🫢 you cried 😪 oh honey 🍯 you don’t 🙅 have to lie 🤥

[aquarius-johnny]

congrats on the milestone!! johnny, whimpers, #1 please :,)

“I want to wreck you, then kiss your forehead like nothing happened.” | whispers and whimpers

His voice is sharp and low, cutting through your spine and having every nerve in your body wrap around his words as if his words are the only thing keeping you together.

You’re breathless, wrists pinned behind you with one hand while his free hand grips onto your waist, keeping your backside pinned to his pelvis as he’s deep inside of you.

You’re shaking, lips parted, and your muscles are burning standing on your tip toes as you take him from behind over and over again — losing track of however many times you’ve come all over him.

“I want to wreck you,” he growls, lips ghosting against the shell of your ear, hips grinding in and out of you, deep enough to feel it in your lower abdomen. “Then kiss your forehead like nothing happened.”

It was a threat — the sweetest threat you’ve ever heard.

His pumps are agonizingly slow, making sure you feel every drag of his tip against your sweet spot and his veiny shaft against your pulsing gummy walls.

“You’re gonna let me ruin you, baby?” He kisses your cheek ever so gently, almost feeling like he’s mocking you. “Then I’ll kiss you goodnight like a good girl.”

You know he means it. Every single word.

He’ll ruin you — fucking you until the only name you know is his, fucking you until your body remembers every inch of him, fucking you until you’re absolutely broken and shattered. Then he’ll pull you close to him, holding and caressing you like you’re fragile glass and acting as if he didnt just rearrange your guts moments before.

💭 thank you for playing! 𑁤 aimee

[polymerclay]

Hi so I was making a point abt character design to my friend and drew your globe guy as an example. Thought i should at least show you :] I love this thing

So cutes thank u..... 3rd time that someone made fanart of this fella. My creatures are inflitrating peoples minds... all according to plan..

Though I am curious as to what point about character design you were talking about that lead you to bring up deskburgh specifically! I admittedly still have a lot to learn about character design and I wanna know what I've been doing right 💭

[yanyuegege]

💭Ate cold noodles What should we prepare for dinner tonight? Not bad It’s so hot in Hengdian I’m melting Look at this photo Let’s cool off a bit hahaha Recent songs Good luck on your exams 👏 Fighting for the new week 💪 Make sure to rest and eat well

[meditateplanet]

Observe your mind without attachment. 🧘‍♀️ 💭 ☁️ #MindfulObservation #NonAttachment #ThoughtClouds #MeditativeMind

[blackr23]

🐰💭[250624] 11:09 PM EDT

It's a shame I'm fine Drink water slowly and take care of your body Next time I'll come see you again on a nice day

[normalbroadcast]

god. of course its all about stories and readings and retellings and reinterpretations . literally of course

[dollyfetti]

after the war, katsuki is sosososo SO much softer.

and he's so good at dealing with your tantrums and little hissy fits. he's so gentle and patient, letting you scream and threaten him cuz he knows none of that shit's true. he does draw the line when you start angry crying though, he hates that, won't sit through it cuz it literally hurts him.

dont get me wrong though, he definitely lets you know when you're being a pain in the ass over nothing. he humbles you, but never tries to embarrass you, or make you feel belittled. he loves you gently and truly, because that's what he unknowingly needed before he met you.

[storiesoflilies]

warning: nsfw, 18+, mdni.

thinking about toji fushiguro and the way he loves to press warm kisses just behind your ear, his lips trailing slowly to the back of your neck, and all the way down your spine. his arms are caging you in, and his body blankets yours, his heat and weight overwhelming you in the most delicious way possible, because he’s just so fucking big and he’s on top of you and it all just feels so good.

you can try and bury your face deeper into the pillow to try and hide how much you love all this, but toji would see right through you.

because god, he always knows exactly what he’s doing, he always has. nobody else knows you better, after all. nobody else knows what makes you tick, or just how to tease you so much that it makes your skin flush and you forget how to even breathe.

he slides his hand over yours, rough and impossibly warm. “why’r you hiding from me, pretty thing?”

but you can’t say anything at all.

all you can do is let out an exceptionally embarrassing whine.

toji chuckles lowly, and you can feel his lips pull back in a smirk, his breath hot against your lower back. your skin gets all clammy, and you tense up as goosebumps flare up on your arms and legs.

you know that he loves this.

he loves teasing you and riling you up so badly that your practically melting into your wrinkled bedsheets, begging him for more and more, because you feel that you’ll die if you don’t get that sweet release from him right there and then.

toji hums.

“oh, i wonder what my baby wants from me.”

and then his fingers are gliding over the curve of your ass, going round and round in circles, each time getting closer to where you need him the most. you let out a muffled moan, pathetically biting down hard on the pillow. his lips are back behind your ear, biting and nipping at your soft lobe.

toji wants to give everything to you, he wants to give you his all and make you feel all sorts of pleasure.

but he also loves this too.

the power.

“use your words.”

his voice is raspy, cooing at you and making your brain go dumb for everything except him and his touch.

“c’mon, sweetheart.”

he brushes against your sweet spot. it’s such a featherlight touch, but you’re so sensitive and desperate for it that it feels more like a cosmic explosion. stars dance behind your closed lids, and you can’t help but moan again as a searing heat pools to your lower belly. you know toji wants you to beg, he’s waiting for it, but it’s so hard to think and string together words in a coherent sentence when you’re so consumed by him.

but eventually, you will give into him.

because you always do.

“please,” you finally pleaded, broken and breathless and utterly desperate. “toji, please.”

and something in him snaps.

before you can say another word, a calloused palm finds your jaw and tilts your head backwards for him to claim your lips in a hot, needy kiss. a hand roughly slides underneath you, flipping you over before you can even register what’s happening. you let out a gasp, but toji swallows it whole as his lips captures yours again, his tongue slipping between your lips and dancing over your tongue.

“you gonna let me take care of you, baby?” he groans between kisses, settling himself more firmly between your legs.

“y-yeah,” you stutter weakly, your lips tingling and probably bruised.

then, you feel it.

his cock.

it’s hard and thick, scorchingly hot as toji begins to grind himself against your needy hole. even now, he just can’t stop teasing you, still wanting you to absolutely fall apart beneath him where you’re all safe and warm. and with every shallow thrust, he slips in just a fraction deeper.

and deeper.

and deeper.

just a little more.

you moan as he finally sinks into you, and it’s absolutely filthy – the way you’re just so full, stretched to your limit, and it’s still mind-blowing every time, no matter how many times he’s had you.

“that’s it,” toji groans, a hint of satisfaction in his all too smug voice.

he gives out a deep, guttural moan as he bottoms out, his hips flush against yours, and you can feel every ridge of muscle and power building up behind him. your nails instinctively dig into his bicep, anchoring yourself against something – anything – and toji’s forehead drops down to touch yours. his green eyes bore into you, and at first it’s full of adoration, reverence even. until he grips your thigh, pulling it around his waist, and they turn a shade darker when you let out a broken cry of his name at the new sensation.

“yeah, baby. say my name again. let me hear you.”

and with a snap of his hips, he rolls into you with the most obscene plap! plap! plap! noises filling the room. toji’s pace is relentless as he absolutely drills into you, like he wants to push a part of himself to live inside you forever. you know he’ll do it, he’ll spend all night trying if he has to, determined to leave the both of you in a trembling mess of love and spent ecstasy.

you know that you’re in for a very long night.

©storiesoflilies 2025, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[the-borgias]

People need to relearn tumblr etiquette so badly. You can’t reblog a gifset/edit/fic with complaints in the tags about how you didn’t like x, y, z about that media and then expect OP not to be mad.

Some of us have been in this site for years even though we get less and less notes everyday and you know why? Because we’re passionate about the stuff we’re creating fanart for and we want other people who are also into that stuff to have content to reblog.

I feel like non-creators don’t understand how discouraging it is to see that somebody has reblogged your art and it’s just full of negativity. You people need to learn how not to be weirdos and don’t be surprised when creators block your ass for being annoying in their creations.

And while we’re at it, y’all need to learn how to interact with media. If you hate something so much that you need to express your feelings towards it make! your! own! post! Us creators don’t care about your opinions and most importantly we don’t want to hear your opinions. If you feel the need to shit talk in strangers’ posts about how much you hate a piece of media maybe you need to take a step back.