#but here are my babes

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I am incredibly serious right now when I beg you all, please, and if you have Twitter or Tiktok or whatever to please spread the word: click on an author's profile on Ao3.

You want to know if an author has written more? Want to know if they're still writing? Want to see more from them? Want to know if they've written a trope or kink or sex scenario you enjoy?

Click on their name. And look at their profile.

I cannot tell you how many times in the last six months someone has read a new or newer fic of mine and said they (a new reader who has read nothing else I've done) "can't wait to see what you do next!" I've written 50+ fics and over a million words already.

"I don't know if you're still writing..." click on my profile. I am. I literally wrote a 128k+ fic for that ship last month.

"Would you ever do X?" "Please do Y!" I already did. Click on my name and look at my works.

Archive of our Own is a library. It's an archive. Not social media. It is your responsibility to fight back against the laziness that corporate algorithms have trained into you.

Click my author name. Just click it. Just click it.

Before you demand more, or ask if a writer will do XYZ, or wonder if the author still writing, or anything - click on their profile. Click on the author's profile.

I'm not trying to be mean or condescending or anything like that. I'm just exhausted. It's disheartening and frustrating to repeat myself ad nauseam, because someone couldn't take thirty seconds to do the tiniest bit of work to see if I've written lately, if I've written more for their ship, or scan my works to see if I've written what they're asking for. Please. Please. I'm begging.

Click the author's name, and explore before you ask.

[jaydarino]

Sometimes girlhood is matching hello kitty oodies with your mortal enemy

[temeyes]

Gaz is in his anime phase now hehe (a sequel to this animatic!)

[inkskinned]

they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?

they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.

you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.

you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.

mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.

you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.

[wispscribbles]

Me @ Ghost: I sentence u to happy retirement, loser

[wizardnuke]

hozier songs are all "i wouldn't be here without black artists" "you should kill your boss" "i love ireland :(" "DO Y OU NEED A DOG. I CAN BARK"

[rythyme]

is anyone gonna tell f1 tumblr that the first ever live action omegaverse show is a sports drama about gay racecar drivers. because that feels like something they'd want to know.

[jonahmagnus]

In world where there are two types of tower-dwellers, a Princess is locked in a tower.

There are two types of tower-people: A Princess, put there to remain pure until marriage or until rescued, and a Wizard, put there by choice to study and learn in isolation. Princesses are defined by their beautiful long hair, and Wizards are defined by their beards and impressive 'stache.

There is a Princess, and she lives in a tower. She was put there recently by her mother and father, to keep her pure and untouched until they can secure the marriage to another kingdom and a prince shes doesn't love. She has long, almost brown sandy-blonde hair, pale green eyes and a slim, tender build. She is not the fairest in the land, but she is tall and pretty. If compared to a rose, she would be the humble yet graceful willow tree, slender and long. She has wanted to be a wizard since a young age, but there is no way for a princess to become a wizard. Princesses are delicate girls to be protected and sold off until their either dead or Queens or have found True Love, unsuited to the life of experimentation and study of a wizard. That is what her mother tells her, in a quiet scolding that is far more forceful and cruel then it has any right to be. And the princess, terrified, believes her.

She used to run the castle halls, stick in hand, robe fashioned out of a delicate silk bedsheet, shouting fake spells at birds while her servants chased her. But as she grew older, her restraints became tighter, and more and more often, she was confined in her room to embroider in solitude with barely the comfort of a window or a maid. The life she is forced into makes her hang her head low, makes her hands be paper-soft, and demands her hair be long and beautiful and perfect like all other princesses. The world she longed to be a part of was a world of study and experimentation, and as the kingdoms princess and tool, she could not even dare to hint at her desires into adulthood. She could become a witch, she knew, flee the castle barefoot and sink into the loving embrace of the swamp. But witches don’t live in towers, and they make potions instead of spells, and they don’t grow the flowing whimsical beards that wizards do.

But that does not mean she has to be bored in her tower. Fascinated by magic as she always has been, she arranges with a long string of bribes for books on spells and forbidden potions to be smuggled along with her meals. She studies them while the clock ticks down for either a prince to arrive or her marriage to be finalized. Either one will doom her, and she wants to enjoy herself as much as possible until her marriage. She pours over the books long into the night by candlelight, and all day, she rests her pale, tired eyes. She experiments, and she reads, and she studies non-stop, barely stopping for meals and littering her books with an assortment of food stains. She cuts off her hair to use in bubbling gold potions, her skin becomes scarred with a rainbow of the consequences of failed experiments, and her dresses turn into makeshift cheesecloths and fire-fuel. She washes late into the night after she is done with her work for the day in the darkness, not glancing into the mirror that has become cracked and dusty. When her eyesight starts to fail from strain and working in darkness, she fashions for herself bottle-round glasses, blown by herself in the depths of her tower. Engrossed as she is in her studies, she does not notice the tower warp, and the meals stop rotting, and how she started out in one circular room but now has a loft and a second floor and the fact that the tower seems much much taller then it was originally.

What she DOES notice though, is when brushing crumbs from her face she feels facial hair on her upper lip.

She rushes to the bathroom and thrusts a candle into the holder as she looks at herself. In the dusty mirror, she sees the beginnings of a bushy mustache sit on her upper lip, much further along in growth then be logically possible without her noticing. It’s a pale blonde, like her hair, and she notices faintly that there are streaks of grey in it, a very familiar shade of classic wizard grey. She brings a trembling hand to her upper lip.

Much, much later, a prince rides up to the tower. It is tall, and warped, and very clearly belonging to a wizard, despite the royal family claiming their daughter lives here.

He shouts up, a bit nervous because of the thorny vines wrapping the beautiful stonework.

“Hey! Does a Princess live here?”

A young man with large bottle glasses and a rather impressive mustache leans out of the tower, his short, sandy-blonde hair spilling lightly in the wind. He starts to say something, then glances back into his house. A smile breaks out on his face as he seems to realize something.

“No!” He shouts back, after a moments hesitation. “But a wizard does!”

[mulderscully]

NICHOLAS GALITZINE for GoldDerby (May 17th, 2024)

[idyllcy]

linked - grim reaper x reader

You swear the first time wasn't on purpose. You had just logged off the call with Grim and found yourself warm and sexually frustrated, and you swear you were just trying to blow off some of that frustration. You forgot, however, that his soul was literally linked to yours.

Grim had to call off work because he wasn't able to calm himself over seeing your fingers stuck inside of you and the way you moaned his name when you came around them.

He would rather die than admit you had that kind of effect on him.

The second time? When you deduced that he couldn't stare you in the eye because he watched you finger yourself? Was totally on purpose.

You tell Grim good night as usual, and you find yourself annoyed again, an abnormal heat in your abdomen as you frown. You frown, but your lips curl upward when you remember Grim can now see everything you do. So, you rummage through your drawer for lube, squirting it on your fingers as you slide one in, Grim's name slipping past your lips as you slide it all the way in.

Then, you slide a second;

and a third.

You gasp as you speed up, back arching as you feel yourself get closer, Grim's name a mantra as you gasp and twitch around your fingers, pretending they're his instead, crying as you feel yourself cum, legs twitching as you make a mess between them. You sigh in relief when you do, pulling the tissues to wipe your fingers clean as you click on your laptop to text him.

To Grim: Missing you (づ￣ ³￣)づ

Grim sits in his cold shower on the other end, desperate to get the red off his skin. You were going to kill him.

[lizardkingeliot]

no one:

absolutely no one:

no. 1 loustat truther sam reid whenever louis and/or lestat are so much whispered about in his presence: so anyway did you know louis and lestat are going to get back together they will get back together at the louis and lestat getting back together event did you know their love is like fire and brimstone levels of hot which is important to the point i'm trying to make which is louis and lestat are getting back together

[financeprincess]

I love Tumblr and Pinterest and YouTube but you seriously need to get off your phone as much as possible if you want to make actual changes. Stop the doom scrolling. Turn off notifications. Turn on DND. Log off. Delete apps. Delete accounts altogether. Unsubscribe from texts and emails. Put time limits on the apps on your phone. Unless social media is making you money, limit it as much as possible. Overloading yourself with information is just another form of procrastination. At some point you actually have to take action. Less consumption, more creation.

[smallmeanie]

elixir of lust

[uhohdad]

Would you ever write anything with a plus size reader? Maybe she’s (or they, can be gn idc!) really insecure but they hide it behind jokes and Konig sees right through it because he does the same

Cut to him always giving them compliments and making sure they stay fed and throwing them over his shoulder like they weigh nothing (usually in front of people cause he likes to embarrass and humiliate reader cause he is still kinda a jerk /affectionate/)

Can be nsfw or whatever you want, I’m not good at plot lol so Idk I just need him to treat me like I’m a teeny lil thing (cause let’s be real he really is a mountain lol)

König x PlusSized!Reader

───♡──────────

He’s getting tired of this nasty habit, liebling.

Everyday before your shower, you’ll stand in the mirror, honing in on that gorgeous, perfect body, digging for any little thing to critique.

“You better be thinking nice thoughts in there, little one.”

You just let out a groan, too far sunk into the spiral of self-hatred to claw yourself back out.

König rises from his spot on the bed a greets you with disapproving, half-lidded eyes in the mirror.

“What is it this time?”

“Tummy. Thighs. Chest.”

“Ach, you mean the best parts?”

You answer with an annoyed hum.

Konig will place his big, sturdy hands on your bare hips from behind, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder.

The gentle peck distracts you from the strong arms scooping you up, a squeak leaving you as he sweeps you off your feet in one swift motion, ripping away your view of yourself in the mirror.

“König!”

“What?” He draws, carrying you from the bathroom to the bedroom.

“Put me down!” You say through a giggle, kicking your feet in his restraint.

“Hold on, I just have to get my curls in.”

He holds you horizontally across those strong arms, muscles tensing as he lifts and lowers you while you giggle all the way.

“I’m too heavy for this!”

“Barely a warm-up, liebling.”

He effortlessly tosses you onto the bed with a bounce, crawling over top you before you can even finish your squeal.

He showers kisses all over your bare tummy, his stubble sanding against plush, soft skin. Trailing his slobbering kisses up to your chest, giving your perfect breasts plenty of love. Your thighs would be last, showering you with pecks and even licking slow stripes across the flesh.

“König!”

“What?”

He’ll feign innocence, but that cocky smirk on his face betrays him.

“It’s too bad you can’t see what I see.”

───♡──────────

[banghwa]

each other's safety zone 💛

[hualianschild]

love how instead of accepting he liked kissing hua cheng he blames his teacher for not teaching him how to not be tempted by men 💀