#I should probably make a separate post about these tags

[maulfucker]

This song is making me want to start yet another fic to never finish,, "Tell me... Where is your hideout? Who are we running from? I'm starting to think that you were right, and now I'm afraid of letting go of your hand...." Maul giving up on his Mandalore plan and deciding to just stalk Kenobi to tell him about his vision. Staying illegally in Obi-Wan's room because I love putting these guys in situations (and because Maul would NOT leave him alone until Obi-Wan actually accepted Maul is right, which he won't). Following Obi-Wan to Utapau and helping him escape after the clones attack, feeling equal parts vindicated and enraged (because he was proved right but Sidious still won). Them being on the run together....

[cursedvaultss]

Hogwarts Founders Era OC Profile: Edward the Valiant

“He did not feel very brave; indeed, he felt he was going to be sick. But that made no difference to what he had to do.”

Name: Edward

Nicknames: The Valiant (due to his accomplishments as a warrior)

Birthdate: April 13th, approximately mid 980s

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Blood Status: Half-blood

Nationality: Anglo-Saxon

Sexuality: Bisexual

Physical Appearance

Hair: Light brown

Eyes: Blue

Height: 5ft 8 ½ (174 cm)

Faceclaim: Dean Charles Chapman

Background

PSA: Just like Elfreda, Edward's timeline isn't really set in stone yet.

Edward is the bastard son of Æthelred II, King of the English, and Elfreda, a pure-blood witch. He grows up mostly at Hogwarts, surrounded by magic and shaped by the events surrounding its founders.

Home: Hogwarts

Family

Mother: Elfreda

Edward doesn't remember his mother, having only known her for under a year. A friend of Rowena Ravenclaw's, Elfreda is an advisor at the muggle court at the time of Edward's birth. She disappeared when Edward was very young, reappearing only when her son was seventeen.

Edward and Elfreda have a complicated relationship after her return. Edward barely remembers anything about her and views The Ravenclaws more as his family. Elfreda struggles to adjust to life back in the realm of humans and feels guilt about leaving her son for such a long time. Eventually they do reconcile and have a good relationship.

profile link

Father: Æthelred II, King of the English

Known as The Unready, King Æthelred had a brief affair with Edward's mother, which resulted in his birth. When his mother noticed Edward showing signs of magic very early on, she took the boy and ran. Æthelred would stop at nothing to find them.

Half-siblings: Kings of the English Edmund Ironside and Edward The Confessor, among others

Foster-mother: Rowena Ravenclaw

Rowena is a good friend of Edward's mother so she took Edward in and raised him along with her own daughter Helena.

Foster-sister: Helena Ravenclaw

Helena was a few years older than Edward and he saw her as an older sister. The two were close and her death was horrific for Edward.

Hogwarts

House: Foster-son of Rowena Ravenclaw but joined Gryffindor.

Favourite subject: Defence Against the Dark Arts

Career

11-17: Student at Hogwarts

17->: Ally of Godric Gryffindor

22->?: Duelling Instructor at Hogwarts

Future: tbd

Personality & Attitude

Edward is not one to sit around and let others do the fighting for him. He's brave and has a strong sense for what is right and what is wrong.

Despite his outward boldness, he has underlying fears that he must conquer. He rarely shows his fear to anyone and prefers to lock it away somewhere deep inside.

Priorities: Helena, Akelda, protecting Hogwarts

Strengths: Brave, compassionate, loyal, chivalrous, a talented sorcerer, interested in the world around him (learns muggle combat and muggle history too), Can keep his head cold in stressful situations

Weaknesses: Stubborn, Afraid of abandonment, Restless for action, Has trouble focusing on his studies

Stressed: When his loved ones are in danger, when he feels helpless

Calm/Comforted: At Hogwarts and with Helena or Akelda

Favorites

Colours: gold, blue, red

Weather: Cloudy but warm

Hobbies: Sword-fighting, duelling, horse-riding

Fashion: Often found wearing armour, likes deep red and blue tones in his clothing, dresses in furs to keep warm

Relationships

Significant Other/Love Interest: OPEN

Betrothed: Akelda The Tragic (deceased) @endlessly-cursed

Akelda and Edward's mothers were both involved in the events surroundng Hogwarts's founding and thus knew of each other. Rowena Ravneclaw and Helga Hufflepuff arranged an engagement between the children. At first, they were shy around each other but eventually bonded over shared interests. Both Akelda and Edward loved horse-riding and nature, and often talked amongst themselves for hours.

Akelda's health had been fluctuating, but when it took a turn for the worse, it was feared she was not going to make it. When she recovered against all odds, Edward was delighted and relieved. The marriage plans were put back in motion, but one day during a family picnic, Akelda suddenly fell ill again, though this time the culprit was poison, and she didn't recover.

Edward was inconsolable after both Akelda and his foster-sister Helena passed away within such a short period of time.

profile link

Friends: OPEN

OPEN FOR INTERACTION!

Rivals: tbd

Enemies: His father and Salazar Slytherin

Trivia

After Akelda's untimely death, Edward inherits her horse

Through modern lens, would probably be considered dyslexic

Showed signs of magical talent at a very young age and always had a strong connection to magic

[charlie-but-not-slimecicle]

does anyone know if there‘s a tag limit

[aimless-passerby]

Need a separate list of fics where hobbits don't praise Yavanna on each occasion 😭

[the-nightmare-theater]

why is this bed so hard to draw its literally furniture

[starseers]

Two alters trying to have a "date night" in the front: :D

Me, obsessed with the TV series they just turned on: 👁️👄👁️

[sanstropfremir]

I love the fact that Yunho stayed true to his artistry throughout the years. Sadly the same can’t be said for younger male idols like Taemin or Kai, in my opinion, who strayed so far away from what we saw of them doing in their groups. And it got me thinking; how much of it is them and how much of it is SM’s marketing strategy? How can their group self and solo self be soooo different? For me they’re not selling their solo self well enough to convince me that that them you know what I am? It feels almost like they’re acting (yes, every performer acts a little bit) but with Kai and Taemin it looks like they’re both playing a role…

[red-dragon-archfiend]

As a general rule of thumb, if you want to make a call to action or educate people on a matter, you really need to leave your guilt-tripping, bitterness, and personal donation links out of it. All of that stuff will get in the way of whatever point you're trying to make and reduce good-faith engagement. It's not about whether you're right or wrong, it's about writing an effective message

[im-literally-just-sitting-here]

Quackblr4Ethogirls still the best thing to come out of this poll btw.

(also, guy whose thumbnails are just stills and who was entranced by a silly star transition + guy with funniest editing style ever, literally the most striking thing about quackity to me is that i like his editing)

Tumblr is a fascinating place, anything could happen

[coridallasmultipass]

TW for my usual unhinged stance on puppets, if you're following me, you know. If you're not, I'm sorry (not sorry). ((If you're the author or narrator, I'm actually sorry.))

Okay, so because I'm allowed to be freaky on main about puppets on this site, I just wanna tell everyone, because everyone should know that creepypasta narrator Lighthouse Horror just posted a story (by author Alonso Solis) about an evil puppet show a few days ago, and I just listened, and I loved it.

Now onto freaky business:

Headcanoning the main char as a puppetfucker bc c'mon, that bromance, the way he lovingly describes Mr. Smiley's appearance, what he does before leaving the old studio towards the end... Just... Mmmm... *chef's kiss* love this kinda content. I'll sleep soundly dreaming I could have someone like that. Y'know? Big, glassy eyes, big grin, secret evil laugh, mildly self-animate...

[fragmentedblade]

I actually adore the absurdly idealist devoted to destruction grazing on suicidal deranged knight. Oooooh who cooould have predicted this~

[thedisablednaturalist]

How to not derail a physically disabled person's post -guide for abled neurodivergents

Hey this is a huge problem and a ton of my and other peoples posts about physical disabilities have been getting overrun with comments making it about mental illness and completely derailing the post.

Here's some things to think about before adding a comment/reply onto a physically disabled person's post:

Is the person talking about disabilities in general? Or are they only talking about physical disabilities?

Do they say specifically that neurodivergent people are welcome to comment? Or do they have a banner or tag that says DO NOT DERAIL

Check the comments and reblogs that are currently there. Are they already overrun with people making the same points you are? Are physically disabled voices getting drowned out?

Is the post tagged with cripplepunk only? (Aka not neuropunk or madpunk)

What is your addition adding to the conversation? How is it related to the original post? Is it shifting the conversation or generalizing it?

Did you actually read and internalize the post or did you only focus on adding your point of view.

Who is the intended audience for the post? Is it you? Are you listening or arguing?

Are you using their language for yourself?

Could the addition stand on its own as a separate post? (If so it probably should)

Think about how you would feel if someone did that to your post and everyone only talked about their problems and ignored your original statement. Think about how angry you'd be if they then said "you're not allowed to get mad cuz I said I wasn't derailing! I love you people!"

Also these questions can and should apply to other posts made by people who are frequently talked over (people of color, fat people, etc.) No your adhd autism does not count. There is a long history on this site of neurodivergent people talking over and taking over entire disability spaces and the problem persists today. This problem is why cripplepunk was created in the first place.

Yes mental illness deserves to be talked about. I'm proudly neurodivergent and often reblog posts from neurodivergent blogs. But you are able to make your own posts, you don't need to take over ours, especially when we are specifically pointing out how our physical disabilities differ from mental disabilities.

Also respect when someone asks you to please delete your addition. Mistakes happen what matters is how you respond to them. Learn from it and move on. Don't cry about the meanie cripples "censoring" you.

[zayneslady]

summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course. 

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries. 

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time. 

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it. 

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds. 

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?” 

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak. 

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” 

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to. 

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up. 

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive. 

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.” 

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were. 

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.” 

Don't cry. Don't cry! 

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this. 

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault. 

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.” 

You also loved him, so much. 

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent. 

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her. 

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew. 

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if- 

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?” 

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?” 

“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.” 

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better. 

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!” 

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear. 

“Are you crying?” 

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why- 

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.” 

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes. 

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.” 

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.” 

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses. 

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream. 

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place? 

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that. 

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus. 

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes… 

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. 

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!" 

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird. 

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now. 

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.” 

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.” 

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars. 

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.” 

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone." 

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears. 

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him. 

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.” 

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying. 

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.” 

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek. 

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot." 

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.” 

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.” 

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes. 

“Please, give me another chance.” 

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head. 

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” 

[mayordoi]

Riliane Lucifen d'Autriche

ive been wanting to make fanart for mothy's seven deadly sins series for a while and now i'm finally taking the dive. so the next few posts will be completing these series of illustrations of the characters :) started off with rin's character cuz i feel like the daughter/servant of evil is where a lot of us got introduced to evillious chronicles hehe

excited to see the little collection all come together and i hope you are too

~~ by the way!!!!

5 people have indicated on a poll that they would be interested in coloring pages of my art, and i thought i'd do just that! at least as a little test. so here are some lineart files of the piece~

psd file - should be compatible with photoshop and ibispaintx definitely. probably compatible with other programs like csp but i haven't checked 😅

procreate file - procreate throws a fit when you try to import psds so i had to make it separate just in case 🫠

this is the first time officially releasing these so im not sure how to go about it?? again it's sort of a test, i'll figure things out. just be aware that the lineart is more gritty/textured so filling colors with a bucket tool might be a little wonky.. but i'm sure that's fine

some terms when using these coloring pages :)

don't remove or obscure the watermark. you can move it, but make sure it's visible in some way

when posting, make sure to credit me (mayordoi) for the lineart

if you post on tumblr or instagram, tag me or let me know somehow cuz i wanna see em!!

again not fully sure if there's a big audience for these but i like the idea of coloring pages so why not release my own! and yes the rest of the sin characters will also have coloring pages released in a similar style :]

[kaiasky]

Complete-ish Guide To Settings You Might Want to Change

These instructions will be for desktop, because the settings are easier to find there. You can do the same on mobile, but it might be in different places.

Dash settings

Your dashboard is broken down into several feeds, including "Following" and "For You".

"Following" is primarily the posts of people you follow, "For You" is algorithmic.

If you just joined, "For You" is default, if you're a longtime user it's "Following". You can change this in the settings on the right

A lot of longtime users will tell you that the Following feed is where we spend most of our time. But try out all the feeds, and see what you like most.

The settings that are settings:

To start, click the settings gear under the account icon (the abstract person head).

This should take you to the General tab. Key settings:

Community Labels: By default anything NSFW is silently hidden. You can change how each subtype is handled.

Hide Additional Mature Content: If you have an iPhone disable this or it'll hide every post from you on the off-chance it contains porn.

If you're under 18 as determined by the birthdate you entered on signup, you can't change these. (If you want them on, you'll have to make a new account and lie)

Under the "Dashboard" tab, you can enable timestamps, which is mostly just nice information to have. sometimes a post is from 2010 and you can be like wow.

The next four probably have the biggest impact on your tumblr experience, so I'm gonna do a breakdown.

Best Stuff First reorders your "Following" to have popular posts at the top. Disabling it makes your feed chronological. I like it off, but up to you.

Include Stuff In Your Orbit and Based On Your Likes put various content from "For You" into "Following". Personally, I disable them to keep "Following" purely posts by people I follow, and then switch between feeds to get what I want.

Followed Tag Posts will put content from the "Your Tags" feed into your "Following" feed. Since you can go to the separate tags feed, I usually turn this off (it tends to show me a lot of duplicate posts), but up to you.

Under the "Notifications" tab you can tell Tumblr to stop sending you emails.

I'd recommend disabling all the emails--if you get a bunch of replies, Tumblr will happily send you dozens of emails, and you don't need that.

Notifications is the push-notifications in-app/in-website. The mobile app, for some reason, has a much better interface for controlling these, including the option to only get activity-notifications for mutuals. You can leave these on, or turn them off if you find the flood of notifications is distracting.

Tumblr News is a newsletter, it usually just has content from @fandom and the other staff-run recap blogs.

Conversational notifications sends you more emails.

Under the "Tumblr Labs" tab you can enable a bunch of cool beta tests.

I particularly suggest Reblog Graphs, What you Missed tab, & Popular Reblogs tab, but they're all fun to try out. A lot of these are honestly better than the For You dashboard.

For each blog you have, you can customize it's Blog Settings. Beyond things like setting an avatar or description, there's a few settings that are fun.

Custom Theme gives you your own subdomain at [blogurl].tumblr.com.

This makes your blog easier to search, and a lot of 3rd party tools depend on you enabling it. It also makes it easier to link your posts to people who don't have tumblr accounts.

You can completely customize the CSS/HTML/Javascript. you can go legitimately crazy. It's not a requirement, but if you want unlimited flexibility, go wild.

On the contrary, if you wanna run a more private blog, you can disable this and then hide your blog from search results/non-registered users.

Likes and Following are public by default. I like to turn these off so I don't have to worry about like, "what will people think if they see i'm following [...] or liking [...]". But it's also fair to keep them public if you'd like.

The other Blog Settings are important but pretty self-explanatory I think.

Finally, there's some useful tools I like:

XKit Rewritten - A bunch of scripts (like RES for Reddit). The one I really like is "mutual checker", which shows at a glance which blogs you are in mutuals with. Which is such a good feature it's included in the mobile apps by default i think.

siikr.tumblr.com - Tumblr search is bad, and google's indexing of tumblr blogs is worse. Siikr will find any post you've made on your blog. Because disk space is limited, only use it to search your blog, and if you're tech savvy consider running a local copy from source.

[lemurzsquad]

Hand Sanitizer

Pairing: Sakusa x gn!reader (platonic or romantic, up to interpretation)

Summary: You and Sakusa hate each other with a passion, and it's almost always a disagreement over hand sanitizer. So when you leave to wash your hands and don't come back, Sakusa learns why exactly you avoid using it so adamantly.

A/N: Okay so this fic. Hooooo boy. This fic. I've been wanting to write it for a while and finally have. It started as a "Reasons why I'm pretty sure Sakusa would hate me irl" and turned into this.

So I have a skin condition known as aquagenic wrinkling of the palms (or AWP), which affects my hands when they come in contact with water, which is what this fic is about. I never hear about this condition anywhere, and it's very lonely sometimes, and there's no real treatment for it (from what I've seen). So this is essentially a vent where I take my skin condition seriously for once instead of just making water allergy jokes to cope lol

(More info about AWP here)

Word count: 3898

cw: skin condition (non-graphic descriptions and discussion) (AWP - please read above), hurt/comfort, angst, crying, enemies to friends...?, emotionally constipated apologies from Sakusa, hand sanitizer is evil /j, vent, not proofread because I just wanted to get this done and posted to do literally anything else, (please lmk if I should tag anything else)

(Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, and everything written here is purely from my own experiences and observations. If you would like to learn more, please do your own research; this is not designed to be informative. It's purely for myself and for awareness.)

You and Sakusa had never gotten along.

You were certain you knew when it started, having been completely oblivious of one another up until that point.

It was when you were both first years in high school, and there happened to be a lizard in the classroom. You, upon seeing it, immediately proceeded to pick it up and ask the teacher to let you put it outside, to which they agreed.

You came back to the classroom, dusting off your hands, when a curly-haired boy took it upon himself to comment, “Go use some hand sanitizer, would you?”

You squinted at him, partly confused as to why he was talking to you and how you had never noticed he sat there before. “No thanks,” you answered, “I'd rather just wash my hands.”

“I don't think just washing your hands would be enough,” he rebutted with a sharp look behind his bangs. “You probably don't even know how to properly wash your hands.”

“Well, too bad! I'm not using hand sanitizer!” You were starting to get annoyed, crossing your arms.

Somehow, that seemed to make him even more disgusted, possibly at the thought that you were spreading whatever it was on your hands onto your clothes now, too.

The two of you threw jabs back and forth until the teacher separated you, which you were both happy to oblige. The animosity between you never seemed to quite dissipate even as the year went on and you became second years. You almost felt bad for the misunderstanding, knowing it was entirely your own fault, but how were you supposed to explain to this random kid that you couldn't use hand sanitizer even if you wanted to? At least, in your head you couldn't.

At some point, you and Sakusa became something of enemies within your class—renowned ones, at that. People would often ask the both of you why you hated each other so much, but your answers were vague at best.

“He's just so pretentious,” you said once.

“They're just so obstinate,” he said once.

And thus, an impasse stretched between you. You hadn't even learned his name until months after your first encounter, too bitter to really care.

Despite the efforts you both went through to avoid being within the presence of the other, you somehow still ended up nearby. Maybe it was your teachers attempting to make you get along—maybe it was the universe laughing in your face.

Throughout that entire time, you still faithfully avoided hand sanitizer like the plague. The one time the nearest bathroom was out of order for a little while and you couldn't wash your hands, you used as little of the accursed substance as you could. Whatever microscopically thin layer that coated your hands there was, you shook it off almost violently, simultaneously disgusted by the feeling of something on your skin and afraid of what it might do.

The disapproving look Sakusa gave you when he saw that was palpable.

At some point, you hated each other mostly out of principle. You'd both kept it up this long—it would be weird to suddenly just let it go since your flimsy justifications seemed enough until now. To admit that you were being unreasonable would be worse than getting along, you separately reasoned.

So when you were paired up for a project, you couldn't help but grimace. Sakusa was the first to go up to the teacher about it.

“I can't work with them,” you heard him say. For once, you agreed with him.

The teacher, however, dismissed his concerns with a wave, saying, “In life, you don't get to pick who you work with. Sometimes you'll have to try to put aside your differences to get your work done.”

It sounded stupid to you, like some half-hearted excuse so they wouldn't have to rearrange seating or partners. But it's not like you had any place to argue, so you resigned to just sucking it up.

Instead of working together, you both divvied up tasks as quickly as possible and did what you assigned yourselves—separately.

All was going well; you ignored each other and worked on the project silently. Despite other groups discussing their plans and the room being filled with chatter, your share corner was dead silent save the sound of pen on paper.

Which didn't last long when suddenly the tip of your pen snapped off. The now open ink tube spilled onto your hands, and when you tried to minimize the damage, it only got worse. By the time you dropped the pen onto your open notebook, raising your hands in surrender, they were absolutely coated in black splotches. A sense of defeat washed over you as you watched your words get covered and your paper stained in ebony.

Taking a moment to glance at your already ruined hands, you just resigned to picking up the pen and throwing it out. It was your favorite pen, which was unfortunate. It couldn't be helped, you told yourself.

Sakusa had noticed you flailing about your desk, silently judging you for the clumsy mess you made when you should have just thrown out the pen the second it broke to avoid the noir crime scene that now covered you and your area. He scowled knowing you would now have to redo whatever you had written for the project.

It was nearing the end of school, the class you were currently in being the final one of the day. You approached the teacher's table and asked if you could go wash your hands. They checked the clock to see about twenty minutes left before replying, “Make it quick.”

You walked past Sakusa's desk on your way to the door. He made the snide remark, “You could get the ink off really well with hand sanitizer.”

It took everything in you not to snap back at him, but you just hurried past, careful not to touch anything on the way out.

Sakusa knew he would never understand you. From the moment you met, you stubbornly refused what seemed to be basic courses of action. Touch something dirty? Use hand sanitizer. Eating? Wash your hands before and after to keep from touching anything.

The couple of times he had seen you wash your hands, it was very brief, and you seemed to avoid using the air dryer, opting for paper towels that were arguably undoing whatever progress you made in washing your hands.

At the same time, you avoided any task that would require you to touch dust or water. You always asked to sweep or clean windows, so much so that everyone just ended up giving you those tasks to get you to stop asking. If you did get something on your hands, you immediately wiped or shook it off, seemingly disgusted. You would even briefly run it under water just to dry it on your clothes so they weren't wet. It seemed there were things worse than water if you were willing to rinse them off.

But it was still that one avoidance that came between you: the hand sanitizer. It was practically the same as water, and it dried quickly. Even if it was comparable to washing your hands, it was still much more convenient in most scenarios. Yet you continued to adamantly refuse to ever use it. At some point you declared, “I would rather die,” when he had tried to squeeze some on your hand, earning him his wrist grabbed and pushed away. 

He just didn't understand.

So when he found you sobbing in front of the stairs, opening your hands and clenching them closed into loose fists repeatedly, he was beyond confused.

You hadn't come back to class after leaving to wash the remnants of your broken pen, so the teacher decided it was your project partner, Sakusa, who should find you and return the belongings you left behind. He went over to your open notebook that remained just where you left it and noted the handful of words that were still visible. 

Sakusa folded the cover over, enclosing the now dried puddle of ink. The remainder of your things he scooped into his arms, leaving the room once the halls had cleared a significant amount. As much as he wanted to just leave your things and go to volleyball practice, he figured it would end poorly.

Plus, what could possibly have kept you out of class for so long that you would have left everything behind? There was no way it had taken that long to get most of the ink off of your skin, so either you had just skipped the last bit of school or something happened. Since you hadn't taken your wallet with you with your IDs (he checked your bag when he put the notebook back inside, sure that it was completely dry), he reasoned it was probably the latter.

“Tsk.” They would have been able to get it off with hand sanitizer, he thought, brows furrowed. This is such a waste of time.

Sakusa wandered through the halls when he didn't find you by the bathrooms. He was starting to think it was a lost cause trying to return your bag; he even had to text his cousin to tell him why he would be late. It wasn't until he got to a particularly empty hallway did he hear something.

Quietly, in a dark alcove with a set of stairs leading up, a figure was huddled against a wall. Their tears were soft but anguished, stifled because it was in the environment of school. Sakusa had tried to ignore them until he realized it was you.

You held your palms up just past your knees that were pressed against your chest. You opened and closed your hands, a fresh cascade of tears painting your cheeks as you choked back a sob. You pressed—with more pressure than could have been painful—your thumb into the center of your other palm, nails digging into the back of your hand. You set your closed eyes on your knees with the hope that it might stop the water that leaked from them.

Sakusa, with great caution, approached your hunched figure. He didn't want to, he really didn't. You were the person he probably hated the most at his school, but somehow he knew he'd seem like an awful person if he didn't at least give your belongings to you directly—he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of another thing to hold over his head.

And yet those thoughts went to the back of his mind when he crouched down in front of you. His mask and curly hair obscured his focused expression as he tried to study your current state. The moment you seemed to hear him there, you held your breath and repressed your already quiet cries.

When Sakusa got close, you buried yourself further in to hide your face behind your knees and clenched your hands even more.

He frowned and something in his chest tightened. His brows furrowed deeper over his eyes and he huffed. He saw your nails digging into the skin on the backs of your hands.

“That's going to leave a mark if you keep doing that.” It came out more biting than he had meant it, but he was being serious.

It was then that you could no longer hold back your sobs, almost choking on your own tears. The grip you had of your hands softened and unlinked; instead, you lightly shook them apart from each other. Sakusa had to take a moment to process, but it almost seemed like there was something wrong with them. 

He just wanted to get you to stop crying so he could give you your bag. As much as he hated the gesture, he asked, “What's wrong with your hands?”

You curled your lips in to bite down on them, fighting back hiccups. With your eyes tightly screwed shut, you upturned your palms.

The sight alone made Sakusa's eyebrows fly up in shock. 

He didn't mean to, but he grabbed your wrist to get a better look. Ignoring the ink stains that faintly persisted, there were pale, patchy splotches in the center of your palm and on the side edges of your fingers; there were even some tiny pale rings on the periphery of the bigger splotches. But underneath that, the skin seemed as if it had soaked in water for hours or maybe even days. Not only were there dozens of deep crevice lines trailing from the tips of all of your fingers to their bases but the lines on your palms were more prominent, surrounded by profound, dense wrinkles that spanned the entire surface.

His eyes darted around your hand for a few moments just trying to comprehend what he was looking at. It looked unnatural—it looked painful. And when he met your gaze, he saw unidentifiable emotions flash across it. Was it shame? Regret? He couldn't be sure aside from the blood that seemed to drain from your face.

You tried to pull your hand away, but Sakusa wouldn't let go. His eyes never left yours, searching for some kind of answer. When he couldn't find it there, he asked, “What happened?” It was soft, calm, and even, enough to make you tear up a little again.

The second time you tugged, he released your wrist. You pushed your thumb into your palm again, looking away. Hiding your hands away in the space between your stomach and where your legs were still tucked against your torso, you sniffled a few times and tried to even out your breathing.

“I-It's normal… it just h-happens when I-I touch water…” You stuttered and mumbled between hiccups.

“That is not normal,” Sakusa said a little too quickly and curtly, realizing it probably would have made it seem like he was berating you.

With another sniffle, you said, “It's a– it's a skin condition.” You started to scratch your palms partly out of stress and partly out of the persistent stinging. “It reacts to water i-if I touch it for too long.”

His eyebrows knitted in concern. “Was that from washing your hands then?”

You gave a small nod, still avoiding his gaze. “I couldn't get the ink off and ended up w-washing them for too long…”

“You could have just used hand sanitizer,” he said genuinely. For the moment, he almost forgot he was supposed to hate you, more focused on being worried than anything.

Your answer was your head shaking rather fervently. “No, I can't.” You lowered to set your forehead against your knees again. “Well, actually, I don't know. I-It just scares me and I don't want to r-risk any more pain than I already have. I haven't h-had good experiences with it…”

“What did hand sanitizer ever do to you?” It came out snarkier than Sakusa had meant. He slowly lowered himself to sit with his legs crossed in front of you, your bag still next to him.

You let out a heavy breath. “I was a dumb kid in elementary,” you started. “I had an obsession with scented hand sanitizer for probably a few months. I used it multiple times a day, and even though I don't know for sure if it's related, my hands got worse after that year I think. Only after that did I finally go to the doctor to get it diagnosed after my mom did a ton of research. I agreed to avoid hand sanitizer from then on. I just don't want to risk being in more pain…”

You both went silent.

“Oh…” It was all that left Sakusa's lips. A sudden wave of guilt crashed into him. All of the times he had berated you for not using hand sanitizer and all of his snide, rude, annoyed remarks resurfaced in his conscience. He felt terrible. He felt bad. Someone was hurting and all he did was throw lighter fluid on their problems—for months—and it seemed there was finally a spark to set it all ablaze. The thought that he started it all made it worse.

“Stop with whatever weird look you have on your face.” You squinted at him and his downturned, scrunched face. You'd calmed down enough to be making quips, it would appear. “It's not like I can do anything about it.” You shrugged, half-hearted.

He searched your face again for any sign of emotion aside from blank resignation, but he couldn't find anything. “Is there no treatment?”

You shrunk down further into your huddle, not vocally answering, but the answer was still clear.

Something about the whole situation made his heart hurt; it made him upset, he realized. “So what, you just have to avoid water?”

The nod of your head to the side looked pathetic as you avoided his eyes. After several seconds of silence, you said, “I used to love swimming. It's not like I can't, it's just… it hurts and it makes me feel gross. I don't even like the beach anymore because if I go in the water and get my hands wet, there's no real place to dry them off.” You laughed humorlessly. “It's stupid. You'd think I would get more used to it and get over it as I got older, but it just made me more upset. Why me? Why did I have to get stuck with a condition that's rare and isn't really bad enough for people to care enough to find a treatment? At least, it feels that way…

“I know it's awful, but I sometimes wonder, ‘Why didn't I get stuck with something worse? Then I might have a way to treat it. Then people might care.’”

You glanced up to judge Sakusa's reaction, instantly regretting spilling your feelings and questioning why you did. Tears threatened to flood over again and spill from your eyes. You felt helpless; not only from your condition but also from being stared down by the person you were certain despised you more than anyone. You were giving him more ammo to be disgusted and to detest you, too.

But you couldn't find his face. His ebony bangs hung down like a curtain and his mask further obscured your view, his downturned line of sight completely blocked out.

When the silence was beginning to crawl around on your skin and became almost deafening, you took in a sharp breath and held it for a moment before breathing out a tiny apology. “Sorry… you don't wanna hear about this…”

“No.”

“...No? No… what?”

“No…” 

Sakusa was struggling to get out the right words. How does he say sorry to you in a way that you might actually believe? How does he tell you that you're allowed to be upset, that you can talk about it? How does he make you understand that it's okay?

And how is he supposed to get you to believe it when it's coming from him?

His voice sounded almost angry but not at you—it was for you. “You can be upset,” he said between gritted teeth, hands clenched into tight fists. “No one deserves to have to live everyday avoiding something so common just to not be in pain. And no one deserves to have some jerk constantly making light of it even if they don't know.”

The way your eyes widened and water dripped down your cheeks in sudden streams said it all. “Oh…” was all you could muster before you completely broke down. No one you had ever told about your condition had seemed to fully grasp how much you were hurting inside, how every day was a struggle to avoid reminding yourself of how awful your hands were, how even looking at your own hands sometimes made you ashamed and loathing of yourself. It was a constant reminder that there would always be something wrong with you; you would always be broken, and there was no way to fix it.

Sakusa let you cry with the renewed emotional rush. He remained firmly planted where he sat, not moving an inch. He was not going anywhere.

And he didn't, even as your sobbing slowed to quiet sniffles and wiping mostly dried tears. It took a while before you finally muttered, “Thank you… No one's ever said that to me before…”

“Well, they should.” His words were curt but lacked any sharpness to them.

When you looked up to meet his eyes, he turned them away from you. Hesitantly, he uttered, “Look, I can't promise you that we'll get along, but I can assure you I'll try not to bother you anymore. No more stupid hand sanitizer comments anymore, either.” It was the only peace offering he could make for a chance to pave a path towards making amends.

You let out a breath through your nose that was close to a laugh before hiccuping, “Next thing you know, you'll be telling me we'll work on our group project together.”

“Don't push it,” he answered, quickly and humorlessly. It only made you laugh, although he couldn't comprehend why.

“It's getting late,” Sakusa tried to divert. “You should head home.”

You reached for your phone, and the little numbers on the screen confirmed his statement. Suddenly, a flash of panic crossed your face. “I don't have my bag,” you state frantically, “or any of my stuff.”

It was then that Sakusa held up the original object of his search for you, gently lowering it to the ground. “The teacher told me to bring it to you since you never came back.”

Relief washed over you in a calming rush, and you finally seemed to relax. You pulled your knees away from your chest and sat with your legs crossed. Confirming that everything was in your bag, an immensely relieved sigh left your lips in a gust.

“Thank you.” Your gaze was earnest, trying to convey just how much you meant your words to make sure it sunk in.

Sakusa just grumbled, “Whatever.” He was back to his usual self despite how he stumbled embarrassingly when he got up and realized his legs had gone numb. He reluctantly offered up his hand to help you stand, but you only looked at it for a moment, mouth pressed into a line, before you got to your feet on your own.

He pretended he hadn't tried to assist you, instead pivoting on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets with a slouched posture. Without another word exchanged, you both headed towards the school's entrance.

The air fell into a comfortable quiet until then. When you did reach the entrance, however, you both stopped in your tracks. You turned to Sakusa, giving him a soft smile and a small wave, and headed down the street. Only when you turned the corner, out of sight, did he head back towards the volleyball gym. He was so horribly beyond late that it was almost laughable.

But he didn't care, knowing it meant someone was there in that very moment for you when you needed it most. So what if he also started to mend whatever nonexistent relationship was there in the process? What mattered was that someone told you that it was okay.

And Sakusa was okay with that. Being late to practice wasn't nearly as pressing as his long overdue apologies. What could be more important than that?

Do not copy and/or repost!! Any likes or reblogs are appreciated, though! (c) 2024 LemurzSquad