#posted this on my main blog by mistake first -_-

[colduncrustable]

the martin antis working so hard to make waves is so funny. like, you are very much allowed to like/dislike any character you please! but making it your whole personality or acting like you’re cooler for it is a little bit silly. you are not morally or intellectually superior for hating on a fiction character.

not to mention all of the characters in tma are very nuanced and complicated, just like real people (!), and erasing all of that to serve a certain narrative is a complete disservice to the entire body of work. jon and martin’s relationship was never meant to be easy, they first and foremost worked closely together as boss/employee, and in a workplace that was actively putting them in dangerous and horrible situations. the whole point is that they’re both super fucked up but they have each other anyway. they both have flaws, they both have gone through a great deal both with and without each other, but they found love anyway. the idea that the dynamic change in s5 is due to martin just being this villain is so wild? like he’s not a doormat anymore but he also loves jon so fiercely and stands by him over and over again?

jon hated him, jon ignored him, was verbally horrible to him again and again, literally sent him on a dangerous investigation and said if anyone had to die might as well be him, jon accused him of murder, screamed at him, jon was on the run, jon died. martin was his number one defender through everything, even when honestly? he didn’t do a lot to prove he deserved it. but martin was strong in his loyalty and did his best to be a supporter anyway. he picked up extra work, he thought of him kindly when no one else did, he mourned him, and he put himself directly in the line of fire for jon. for everyone, yes, but especially for jon, he says that. because after everything, protecting jon is still his number one priority.

it’s so important to his character that he isn’t s1 martin anymore—that he learns to be a real person who has thoughts and feelings and a backbone. jon wanted that, and does it not say something that they don’t work out until martin learns to have a little bite? there’s a difference between being a real complicated traumatized human person, and just straight up being evil, or an asshole. jon had to learn how to be a lot of softer things but martin had to learn how to square his shoulders and stick out his chin. they had different arcs, and that doesn’t make either of them inherently evil or bad. it makes them real and not perfect and very multilayered, yeah.

martin didn’t handle every choice or action perfectly, he made a lot of mistakes, and he never claims to be the best person ever. but jon also fucked up, a lot. it isn’t a competition or a comparison, that’s really not how that works. but they work because of their flaws. that’s a big part of them fitting together. martin represented the humanity they were saving, with all his good and bad. jon was well beyond that, and while that doesn’t inherently compromise his character, it does mean he’s viewed in a much different light.

(meaning i think jon’s sins are seen very very different to martin’s.) (to be clear i think both deserve to be looked at critically, but hating either of them devoutly seems sort of silly.)

i’m not sure how you can listen to tma and all the ways it dissects and reflects on humanity and turn around and run blogs or make posts in the fandom about how you hate one of the main characters for being all of that.

jon never would’ve made it through without martin, even if martin wasn’t the key to everything, he was the reason to push through and not give up. martin is why jon didn’t go full monster mode, why he held onto who he was and his humanity, even with the whole ‘kill bill’ thing. martin gave him a reason to keep going, to try, to care so deeply. obviously there were other factors but jon says it himself, martin you are my reason.

if you can’t handle the fact that martin isn’t a grade a soft boy by the end of the show that’s a lot more about you than it is about him. he grew and maybe not always for the better but he could be a real person for jon instead of some kind of mirror or blank slate to be reflected on. i genuinely don’t understand how he can be misunderstood so deeply.

they’re both fucked up ! and if they are alive Somewhere Else you bet your ass they’re having long talks and going to therapy and fighting and making up and pacing the floors and figuring it all out together. it isn’t clean or easy or necessarily enjoyable all the time, but humanity isn’t either, love isn’t either. they went through unimaginable trauma, and expecting either of them to be holding it together any better than they already are is wild. context, it’s important. but let’s not turn multi-dimensional characters into flat one word answers.

it’s very human to like and dislike, love and hate based off of bias and experiences and perspective. but also opinion does not make fact. everything is relative, everything is subjective, everything everything everything. it’s an open discussion yada yada idk i’m just screaming into the wall about all the nonsense.

and beyond all of that, discourse is so useless. criticism and constructive conversations are really really important but discourse is pointless! oh you ship these people? well that inherently threatens my ship! oh you like this character that i hate? well that makes me feel invalid for hating them. like what you like, hate what you hate, have your feelings. but if you post shit on the internet you will get people who disagree, sorry, that’s how it is. partaking in little arguments over who is right or wrong when it doesn’t actually have to do with anything harmful or unhealthy makes no sense though. posting on the internet about all the hate you have in your heart when the world is already so full of it doesn’t actually do anything but add more bad to an already very large pile of bad.

things can be discussions not arguments sometimes, i promise. it’s not always tooth and nail, and let’s not forget, most of it is over things that never need to be fought over.

[gothducky]

Feb 23, 2024 vs the other two from Feb 28, 2020 - December 3, 2022

Did a proper redraw now instead of painting over :-))

🌳+☕+🌱

[front-facing-pokemon]

[kulapti]

Cover construction for The silent isle imbowers, July-Aug 2023.

Finished binding here.

Materials shown: metallic gold and matte black heat transfer vinyl with cricut-cut designs, cricut-cut paper stencil, acrylic paint, bookcloth made of cotton + drawing paper backing + Lineco PVA glue. Calligraphy by quillingwords, flower art and cover construction by me.

————-General tips on how to make smth like this:

Steps in order were (1) have bookcloth, (2) cut and paint stencil, (3) cut and weed both HTV layers, (4) apply black HTV, (5) apply gold HTV, (6) add paint detail with paintbrush over the vinyl, (7) apply bookcloth to cover board.

This is not a beginner-friendly design LOL. Be like me and try most of the steps by themselves on other projects first.

I drew this design knowing how the sections would be layered, and which materials (and therefore colors) would go with each layer. Achieving a similar result with a premade design will likely require editing in a digital art program.

Test how your materials will layer before committing to a complex design. In this case I discovered that the type of bookcloth I made actually helps conceal the adhesive spread under the black HTV.

Layering HTV over small sections of acrylic paint works! Cannot confirm the result if you were to use large painted sections.

PSA This black layer with many very small pointy bits is at the extreme limit of what I think is possible to weed from machine-cut HTV. A different material might work better, and I got a lot faster at weeding the second copy than the first one, but some of this is just a technical limit. The gold section worked great but I would not recommend this for the black.

Layering HTV is much easier to do uniformly with a heat press! Check if your local library or maybe an art class studio has one you can use before doing smth like this with your iron.

Paper stencils are easy to make with the cricut but don’t try to use them for anything with small details. The above example is pushing it despite being very simple shapes. Stick-on stencils are better.

Tiny HTV design tip: designs with jagged sections and very thin lines are hardest to weed successfully. Smooth curves are much easier.

Scale all pieces of a stacked design on the same drawing program and within the same canvas in cricut so they layer precisely.

Cut tiny HTV designs with the washi paper setting on a cricut. I did not find this out myself but I can confirm the results! Using the HTV setting will cause the blade to catch on and pull up small sections of the design while cutting, ruining parts of the design.

—————-Tiny HTV design weeding tips:

For the love of cheese do not try anything this complicated the first time you use a cricut. or the second. you will cry

Seriously consider trying both HTV and cricut stencils before doing anything complicated like this. I wish I had at least attempted the black layer as a stick-on stencil.

This isn't a weeding tip but again you better cut this with a washi setting.

Use a very sharp weeding tool, good lighting, and consider a magnifying glass

Be prepared for this to take several hours, especially if you have never done a tiny piece before.

Important! The cricut does not perfectly cut out designs, leaving very small connected sections around the design at various locations. This is almost unnoticeable on large designs but can ruin tiny designs very easily. Be prepared to hold down the “keep” sections of the design with tweezers or a fingertip while pulling or trimming off some of the “remove” negative space.

Do NOT attempt to pull off all the negative space in a single piece. Either add dividing lines to your design for the machine to cut, or use a sharp tool to scrape them yourself. You are much less likely to accidentally remove part of your design if you weed the design in distinct sections.

[jumioxox]

some ways the cast attempts to care for teruko in the safe place au + occ comic read tags

[mbat]

people in groups made to be happy and wholesome just HAVE to make everything miserable dont they

[darkpurple-heartheart]

Man I'm so grateful this is a second blog and not a main blog

[dontflirt]

you guys really just bullied a 19 year old on tumblr.com

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪ 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒆𝒇 ➸ 𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), oral (f!receiving), shy!reader, unprotected sex, praise kink (kinda), some teasing, dirty talk, etc.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: sirius really likes it when the reader wears his clothes.

𝑨/𝑵: hi everyone! i’m very excited for my first post on this blog. please go easy on me as i’m a bit rusty when it comes to writing (also this is completely unedited, so apologies in advance for any mistakes). i’m still deciding how i want to format these posts, so forgive me if it’s a bit of an eyesore. i also accidentally posted this on my main at first, so if you saw that... no you didn’t ;) as always, lowercase is intended. feel free to send me a request if you like. feedback is always appreciated!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 3.1k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

       “is that my shirt, dove?”

       the low, silken gravel of his tired voice startles you as you sit perched in the little window seat of your shared bedroom, the window thrust open to let the night breeze in.

       “hmmm?” you muse, distracted as you slowly paint a top coat on your toenails. you fan them with one hand as you glance behind you. sirius stands in the doorway, lithe figure leaned against the frame as he watches you. his shirtsleeves are rolled up over his forearms, hair skirting his shoulders messily, eyes foggy from a long day at work. a soft smile plays over his lips, quieter than his usual wide, wolfish grin.

       he nods towards his shirt draped over your frame, the fabric pooling around your hips to expose the fabric of your panties. “been looking for that all over,” he says simply.

       you make a sheepish face, twisting the cap onto the bottle of nail polish. “‘m sorry,” you mutter, smiling apologetically. you turn towards him, bare legs dangling over the edge of the seat. you are a sight for sore eyes; his gaze trails over your exposed skin, eyes darkening as they trace your figure draped in his shirt. a warmth blooms in your stomach as you watch him watch you. the look is familiar–though it never fails to send your chest aflutter.

       “want me to take it off?” you ask, mostly because you’re at the point where it’s getting hard not to squirm beneath his hungry gaze. the silence is deafening, unspoken words bubbling to the surface. you have the sudden feeling that sirius may not be as tired from work as you thought.

       “not at all.” there’s that mischievous glint behind his eyes, darkening the clear grey to a stormy shade. you sit another second, skin burning as his eyes rake over you, and then you stand and pad over to your vanity.

        sirius should be getting undressed, preparing for bed. he’s too busy watching you. his eyes skirt over the curve of one bare shoulder as you return the little bottle of polish to its rightful place. you swipe a hand through your mussed hair, trying to ignore his attention. he always knows how to get you squirming, the easiest ways to set your cheeks alight with embarrassment. he lives for it, watching his shy girl crumble between his fingers.

       it seems he can’t contain himself any longer as he approaches you, fingers sidling up beneath the hem of the shirt. his lips are on you in an instant, pressing gently against that irresistible patch of exposed skin on your shoulder. a sigh falls from your lips and you melt into his touch. you close your eyes. his calloused palms knead over the flesh of your hips, earning a soft groan from you.

        he smirks against your skin. “quiet tonight, hmm?” his breath fans along your neck as he kisses up towards your ear. goosebumps rise on your skin, a shiver threatening to snake down your spine.

        “it’s late,” you mutter. there’s a knowing second of quiet, both of you knowing you’ve fooled around much, much later. you’re flustered, trying to deflect his teasing words. the butterflies fluttering in your stomach have long since morphed into flames, burning like your skin as you wait for his next move.

       “you want me to stop?” his whisper is soft, the undertone of huskiness becoming feather light. you shift, eyes meeting his in the reflection of the vanity. his eyes are clear, curious. you know he’d stop at the word, no questions asked. but he knows you better than that, knows the way your legs twist together at the feeling of his hands holding you firmly means you don’t want him to stop. sirius wagers you would beg him not to stop, if he wanted you to.

        “no,” you shake your head. there’s that grin again, and his lips are back on you. a sharp breath slices the air as he nips at your skin with his teeth. “sirius–”

        his grasp tightens at the gasp of his name. he chuckles quietly, snaking a hand up over your stomach. the rough pad of his hand finds your breast, kneading it in his palm whilst his other hand holds you firm against him. he’s hardening behind you, bulge pressed against your scantily clad frame. his gaze is still trained on you in the mirror, dragging over the lush sight of your flushed face, your lips parted in small pants, the dark look in your eyes. he loves watching you fall apart at his smallest ministrations. more than half of his pleasure comes just from working you up like this, pushing you to the brink without even trying.

       “please,” you manage, voice constricted as you writhe against him. the ache between your legs is incessant, throbbing as you watch his salacious expression in the mirror.

       “please what, my lovely girl?” he sucks a dark mark into the soft patch of skin behind your ear, earning a cry from you. he rolls your nipple between his fingers. you chew on your bottom lip, hips rocking as best they can despite his hold.

       “sirius–”

       there it is again, his favorite sound in the world. but he doesn’t give in so easily. you know better.

       “words, please, darling,” he mutters. the arm caged around your stomach loosens for a second, his flat-palm tracing down your stomach. he’s approaching the place where you need him most, but he’s not going to give in until he gets what he wants.

        you whimper at his teasing, head falling back to rest on his shoulder. “please,” you rasp desperately, “just touch me.”

        “ah,” he tuts at you, “but i am touching you…” the jest in his voice goes unnoticed by you, your head swimming as he inches closer and closer to your center. you wonder, in the back of your foggy mind, if he’ll give up without those magic words, if he’ll send you off to bed with soaked panties and a fluttering stomach. surely not…

        you contemplate being a brat, refusing to tell him what you want just to see how far you can push it. but you know he’s tired, and the need growing in your center is becoming almost unbearable. you let your pride crumble and you force yourself to meet his eyes in the mirror. “your fingers–your mouth, merlin–” your voice is choked as he smirks and gives in, his middle finger delving into your slick to circle around your engorged clit.

       “there’s my obedient girl,” he says approvingly, the praise in his voice like music to your ears. you cry out, voice cracking as he applies pressure to the bundle of nerves with expertise. he knows your body like the back of his hand, knows exactly what drives you crazy. the pad of his finger dips further down, swirling through the mess of juices shining on your lips.

       mewling moans tear from your lips as he works you towards the edge. his lips are attached to your neck, abusing your skin to the point of saccharine tenderness. rosy marks bloom over your skin. his hand falls away from your breast to toy with the hem of the shirt, lifting it up in the front just enough so that he can watch himself pleasuring you.

       “fuck, take it off, please,” you plead, hips bucking against his hand.

       he shakes his head, releasing another patch of bruised skin with a hearty pop. “can��t,” he says, “wanna fuck you in it…” he mutters, voice low. he drags his teeth over your shoulder again, and then his fingers are slipping out of your panties. you whine at the loss of contact, your thighs clenching together automatically at the lack of stimulation.

       he pats your bum gently, head nodding in the direction of your bed. “go on, dove,” he says, “lay down f’me…”

        you do as he says, your heart thumping in anticipation. your legs are already quivering, weakened from his skilled fingers. he’s taking his time, watching as you sprawl back over the mussed blankets, frame draped in his clothes. he’s never been so enamoured, the sight of you wearing something of his just furthering his claim that you’re his sweet little angel. only, it makes him want to fuck you like you’re his little slut, makes him want to split you open on his cock and make you cry for hours and hours.

        you get comfortable, spreading your legs to reveal the soaked-through fabric of your panties. he groans, running a hand through his dark hair before he begins unbuttoning his shirt. the dark fabric is discarded quickly, though he doesn’t bother removing his trousers as he kneels on the bed between your legs.

        “sirius…” you breathe, aching for him by now. he’s observing, hands gently massaging the skin of your legs starting at your ankles. you squirm, following his gaze to the fabric plastered to your core. a second passes, and he dips his head between your legs, hands splayed over your thighs to keep your legs apart. a shrill cry comes from you as he licks a long stripe up your center, tongue gently flicking around your clit through your underwear. “please!”

       he smiles, against you. “so sweet,” his voice comes as a whisper. you tremble as his eyes meet yours, the stormy grey churning with lust for you. teasing you, he places tiny kitten licks against your center, just enough friction to have your hips rolling up into his mouth. but he’s stronger than you, and he’s got you right where he wants you. he has a knack for turning you into a whining, wriggling mess, drunk on his touch.

        “i– fuck, i can’t take it,” you hiss through clenched teeth at his teasing. you watch him through hooded eyes, biting on your bottom lip so hard that it hurts. he catches your eye, swirling the flat of his tongue over your clit. your back arches off of the bed, earning a raised eyebrow from him.

        “poor baby,” he says, tongue swiping over his swollen lips. he sits back on his knees, using one hand to flick open the clasp of his belt. “shall i send you off to bed, then? let you get your beauty sleep, hmm?” his eyes flicker with amusement. his other hand rubs soft circles into the silken skin of your inner thigh. you breathe sharply at the needing ache between your legs. you need him inside of you, badly enough you feel as if you could burst into tears.

       “no, why would i–” you start, shaking your head. he narrows his gaze at you, a warning. you know what he’ll do if you act like a brat, and although you’d enjoy it you don’t think you have the energy tonight. he pats your thigh softly, then finally, painstakingly drags the zipper of his trousers down.

       “be m’good girl then, yeah?” he prompts, moving closer as he palms his bulge through his boxers, then drags the waistband down just enough to let his length spring free. you hum at the sight, licking your lips as he swipes a thumb over the angry red tip, spreading a bead of precum over it. he spits into his hand, pumping the moisture over his cock before positioning himself above you. two of his fingers push the fabric of your panties out of the way, and he drags the cockhead through your folds, coating it in your arousal.

        a high-pitched, breathy noise graces his ears as his length drags over your clit. you bring your hand to your face, pushing your sweat-slicked hair off of your forehead. he breathes sharply above you, brows screwing together as he nudges your entrance with his length.

        “need you, siri,” you say, pleading. “need you inside me so bad…”

         “i know, dove,” his voice is soft as he leans down, peppering kisses over your face. “been dying to stretch you open since i got home.” he pushes into you, a chorus of pleasured sounds destroying the quiet in your bedroom.

        you cry out, the feeling of him pushing into you driving you mad. it’s been ages since you last had him inside of you, and there’s a sliver of pain as he bottoms out inside of your dripping cunt. waves of pleasure accompany the sting of the stretch, and your eyes flutter as he rocks slowly into you. he’s watching the way his cock splits you open, low grunts coming from deep in his chest. he shifts, one hand pressing on your lower stomach, thumb swirling over your clit. you cry out, head falling back onto the pillows. the other hand lifts one of your legs, pushing it towards your chest.

        “oh my fuck–” you cry out, hands reaching for him, fingertips finding his as they dig into your fleshy thigh. he holds your leg there still, hooking one finger with your own without even thinking. his pace is steady, and his cock is dragging deep against your walls. you’re fluttering around him, doing your best to keep your eyes open and drink in his blissed expression.

        “look at you,” he grunts, brows pulled together as he snaps his hips into yours with particular force. “makin’ a mess everywhere, dove…” the fabric of his trousers and exposed patch of pubic hair are both shining with your juices, and you’re sure there’s a damp spot pooled on the sheets beneath you. he’s eyeing your swollen cunt, his thumb massaging a steady pattern into the bundle of nerves. you clench around him involuntarily, your insides so swollen and tender that you imagine you can feel the ridges of his veins pulsing against your walls.

        your orgasm approaches unrelentingly. he leans back onto his heels, the angle causing the head of his cock to prod at the spongy flesh of your sweet spot. stars bloom at the edges of your vision, and his name breaks from your lips in a hoarse cry.

        “siri, i’m close,” you sob, your voice shaking. you feel his hips snap against yours, skin slapping in the quiet night as he drills you into the mattress. you bunch his shirt up in your free hand, wringing the fabric desperately as you hold onto him with your other hand. the fabric smells of him, like cigarettes and cologne and something woody, and it drives you even closer to the edge. he’s taking over your senses; the sight of him hovering over you, muscles in his abdomen clenching and rippling as he fucks into you is enough to make you scream on its own.

        “oh, is m’good girl gonna come for me? gonna make a mess of my cock, are you?” that silken voice drowns out everything else in the world. sirius is the only thing on your mind, his ministrations setting your body aflame. pleasure courses through your veins, spreading through your whole body until it’s all you can do to keep yourself from screaming until your throat goes hoarse.

       you cry for him as you come, your entire body seizing and shivering as he guides you through your release. “that’s it,” he says throatily, “oh, you’re doing so good f’me… look at this sweet little cunt pulling me in…” he’s groaning at the feeling of you tightening around him, closer to his own orgasm by the second. you’re still shaking, riding the waves of one of the longest orgasms of your life, and you’re sure a second one is piggybacking on this one, not far from sending your body into violent tremors.

       “siri, it– ah, it’s so sensitive,” you breathe, voice weak. he’s continued his pace both inside of you and on your clit. he’s determined to drain ever ounce of pleasure from your body that he can, his eyes watching your cunt weep around him with pride.

       “you can take it, dove,” he soothes, voice soft. “just one more f’me, can you do that? make me happy, love, just one more…”

        “one–one more?” you breathe, jerking as he slows his hips, allowing you to feel him inside of you more intensely. your mouth falls open involuntarily, your features crumbling into pure bliss as he nods. his movements grow more erratic as his release approaches now.

        “one more,” he repeats, leaning down over you to place a gentle kiss on your lips. his tongue drags over your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth. the kiss is messy, teeth gnashing and tongues swirling as he fucks you with renewed vigor. the coil in your stomach tightens again, and his movements quicken.

        you’re both drenched in sweat, shaking, as his pubic bone drags over your clit. both of his hands are now pinned to the mattress, caging you in on either side of your head. your hands slide over his ribs, up his back, nails biting into the skin as your second orgasm washes over you.

       he’s not far behind, hips meeting yours with a force that is almost painful, though you’re far too distracted by the fireworks blooming behind your eyelids. you feel him spill into you, hot seed pouring into your soaked cunt and making your thighs shake. his groans are hoarse, a couple grunted curses and growls of your name joining your chorus of moans in the room. he sits up once you’ve both ridden out your high, heads swimming as he watches his cum spill from between your legs when he pulls out.

        “my lovely girl,” he mutters, swiping a finger through the mess between your legs. the mix of your arousal glistens on his finger, the sight making your head spin as he brings his digit to your lips. you open your mouth, tongue darting out to swirl around the pad of his finger. you moan at the tang of your mixed release spreading over your tongue. he chuckles, leaning over to swirl his tongue against yours in a heated kiss. you’re panting when he finally pulls away, nipping at your jawline before he sits up, stretching his arms above his head. the sight of him, shimmering with sweat, scratches adorning his ribs and shoulders, hair curled up around his hairline and ears from the humidity, makes your stomach do flips. you shift, leaning up on your elbows as he pads away from the bed.

       “where are you going?” you wonder, frowning at his departure. he’s in the bathroom, the sound of the shower quickly following his footsteps. a second later, he returns to the bedroom.

       “gotta get cleaned up, darling,” he says. he tugs on one of your ankles as you lay there, and you oblige despite the fatigue in your limbs. “c’mon, let’s get this off.” he tugs at the hem of the shirt as he directs you into the bathroom.

        “can you wash my hair?” you ask, yawning as he pulls the shirt over your head.

        “‘course i can, dove. now, in we go...”

[fellow-meme-lover]

sigh…

ok guess I’m going to have to Verstappen post on main again, but I think there’s a bit of an issue with the discourse surrounding f1 in commentary and fan spaces that I think is leading the sport in a bad direction. This became most clear to me after the Hungary gp but it’s been present for a while now and it’s when a driver complains on the radio during a race. In this instance, I’m referring to Max this weekend, but more specifically the discussion around his behavior. Clearly he was very worked up and speaking a bit rudely on the radio, but he is not the first driver to swear or get upset during a race and he certainly won’t be the last. What bothered me the most though was sky sport’s ridiculous and continued remarks about how he stayed up late sim racing and that he’s acting “grumpy” and like someone who didn’t get enough “beauty sleep”. I found these remarks patronizing, unprofessional, and extremely biased. These comments were not made when max won in imola after staying up for an e-race and it’s clear that these races do not impact his behavior or ability in a race at all.

The larger issue is that these radio messages are being used to degrade drivers for no reason. We can talk about the driving mistakes Max made this weekend, but there is no reason to make ridiculous comments about him being a grumpy child or whatever. I’ve seen this a lot in fan spaces where certain drivers are praised for being vocal on radio as it shows a “champion’s mentality” and their passion, while others are slandered and ridiculed for saying the same things any other driver would say in their position. F1 has never been a completely pristine sport where drivers are pr-friendly 100% of the time, and it probably never will be when it is a sport that involves so much emotion, tension, and adrenaline. But there is a growing belief that it should be, that all drivers should be besties all the time no matter what, and that it’s this great betrayal or reveal of character when a driver says something on the radio. I like the content and media we get of drivers as much as anybody (my whole blog is dedicated to it after all), but these are real people with real emotions, not just the 2-dimensional fictional characters some have made up in their minds.

tldr: the continued demonization of max in the media is ridiculous, sky is ridiculous, and british bias is very real

[eowynstwin]

There has been more than enough drama about this whole situation so I will be as direct and concise as I can. This will be my last post about the matter regarding Myka/codslut. This will likely be my last post on this blog period.

This fandom community has crucified me over a story that has fallen apart over what I can only describe as the lightest scrutiny. FOIA requests, when expedited, have a ten day window to be granted, not a twelve hour window, and normally take months to even years to grant. Americans do not call small towns villages. Crisis workers do not have unfettered, immediate access to clients' personal information, let alone that of complete strangers on the internet.

I am not exaggerating when I say I have feared for my safety for the past week. The three people who have lead the charge against me have slandered, harassed, and outright stalked me—keeping track of posts I've made and deleted, changes I've made to my directory, and even the time between posts I have made. I have genuinely feared that the next step these people were going to take would be to search both of my blogs (because I have not, in the past, been very concerned about hiding my main) for my personal information in order to dox me.

I believe this campaign has been racist ("gaz erasure my ass") and ableist in nature. I believe my being autistic—and my trouble communicating in a way that could satisfy the aforementioned people this entire week—has played a part in the way this fandom has victimized me.

I believe in particular that sheheal has a personal vendetta against me, although I do not know why. I believe that their claim that they must leave their blog up as "evidence" is false—I believe they are keeping it active in order that it should always be digitally connected to me, and thus risk my safety and peace in whatever online space I choose to be in next. I am entertaining the belief that she even intends for it to follow me in real life, although that may be more paranoia than possibility.

I am aware of the mistakes I have made. I regret them. I am sorry for them. If what has happened to me is representative of what happened to Myka, I have nothing but empathy for her. Even before this happened, I would not wish this on anyone. I do not believe that dogpiling is justice, and have fought against it when I have seen it happening in this fandom in the past. I did not and do not want this to happen to anyone, ever, no matter their sins.

I want to extend a gratitude I find difficult to express the depth of to everyone who reached out to check on me. I especially want to thank Early for being the first person to stick their neck out for me, and for everything after. I hope to be friends with you all for a long time. You mean more to me than you know. You have made a lonely and difficult week feel less lonely and difficult.

I do not want to be a part of this fandom anymore. I have poured over a year and a half of work and creative energy into this community and it has meant nothing. I have loved this community and it has meant nothing. I have fought for this community and it has meant nothing.

If fandom was ever a safe space, it is not anymore. It is not safe for those affected by racism and it is not safe for those affected by disability. It is not safe for anyone who makes mistakes. It is not safe for me, and reader, it is not safe for you. I did not think this would happen to me. Do not make the mistake of thinking this won't happen to you.

[nerdallwritey]

˖⁺‧₊˚✦ 𝓛𝑒𝓉'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 ✦˚₊‧⁺˖

Hi, I'm Emma! Welcome to my writing blog, where there's banter abound!

I'm currently writing Astarion x f!reader fics, but plan to expand and am open to requests! Be warned: My content is NSFW so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it! MDNI

Where else can you find me?

AO3 // Main Blog (I reblog tons of bg3 stuff over there!)

𝔅𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔯𝔡 - (Posted in order chronologically)

An Evening to Ourselves (18+): When Astarion propositions you for the first time, you're anything but excited. // AO3

“I, uh-” It was too much. The look on his face was too intense. You felt too exposed despite the layers of armor currently clad to your body. “I’m scared,” you admitted quietly. “Don’t be,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing you on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle.”

Just to Ruin Me (18+): The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two. // AO3

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.”

Cheeks All Flushed (18+): It's time for the Tielfing party! Antics ensue. // Part 1 // Part 2 // AO3

You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?” Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.” You snorted. “How’d that go?” “Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.” You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?” Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

Perfect Every Time (18+): Before your party travels into the Underdark, you and Astarion catch one last sunrise together. // AO3

You got up and joined him in the ankle deep water. “Do you want to try right now?” Astarion thought for a moment and clicked his tongue. “I have a better idea, actually.” He gave you a sideways look, his lips quirking up slightly.  “What?” you matched his smile. Rather than answering, Astarion reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head.  You furrowed your brow. “Looks an awful lot like you’re preparing to swim.” He started fiddling with the clasps on his pants and groaned in your direction. “Swimming is not the only thing one can do while submerged in water, dearest.” He gave you a sensual smile that sent heat to your cheeks. 

ℜ𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰 - (ask box is open!)

Awfully Fond of You 🪴 (18+): Instead of sleeping with Astarion on the night of the tiefling party, you ask to bathe him instead. // AO3

You gathered the bucket that was still floating nearby and submerged it until it was filled about halfway with water. “You can either dunk yourself, or I can pour this over your head,” you held the bucket out for Astarion to see. “I’m actually quite enjoying you taking care of me, darling. I trust you won’t drown me.” “A mistake,” you said, pretending to dump the bucket over his head all at once. “Can vampires even drown? It’s not like you need to breathe.” “I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you,” he smirked. 

More to come!

[tired-biscuit]

in your sleep, my yearning awakens

18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stepbrother!bakugou, dark content // cw: noncon, somnophilia, stepcest, alcohol.

wc: 2.5k+

↳ this is a repost from my sideblog because i realized i'm far too lazy to run two blogs at the same time and it just makes me super stressed. i'm going to be posting dark content on my main from now on. so this is a heads up of sorts!!

this piece is also my (very late) submission for @killsaki's family ties collab.

———

you make the mistake of wearing a silky little nightgown to bed on a particularly hot summer night, and end up being found by your very drunk, very inconsiderate stepbrother bakugou.

when he returns home from the bar, he finds you soundly asleep in his bed; with the covers kicked off and with your cheek buried in the pillow that smells almost overbearingly sweet, just like him.

your body is nearly naked, it makes his gaze linger on places an older brother’s eyes should never. but alas, even if he did try to get a grip on himself and not stare at his little stepsister like a wolf stares at potential prey, bakugou is shit-faced to the gods and is sort of getting horny because of it, too.

there’s an intoxicating warmth travelling through his veins, a certain one that tints his cheeks a light pink, makes his eyelids heavy and that’s outright impeccable when it comes to blurring the already thin line of what’s wrong and what’s right.

but can merely looking even be considered as the wrong thing? after all, it’s not like he’s touching you or anything. it’s not like he’s exactly violating your privacy, when you were the one who had slipped into his room in the first place and had clambered into his bed. it’s not like he’s doing anything wrong.

he’s just looking. yeah.

and how can he possibly resist from doing so? it’s late, your parents are soundly asleep, and you just look so goddamn cute while laying on your stomach like that; with the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder and exposing more of your tit, with your ass peering out from underneath the hem that’s now practically risen up to your waist, and with the outline of your plump little pussy visible in your pale pink panties. you just look so innocent. so unsuspecting.

so vulnerable.

so he says fuck it. he continues to leer.

and the wolf continues to circle.

however, as minutes pass with your calm breathing filling the silence the entire time, bakugou finds himself feeling somewhat unsatisfied while standing next to the door, holding his worsening balance by leaning against the doorframe.

sure, the rhythmic way your shoulders rise and fall with every inhale and exhale is entertaining to watch. and the way you occasionally sigh and rub your thighs together before burrowing your cheek even deeper into the pillow, his pillow, does succeed at melting his heart, even if he swears up and down that his is made of stone. hell, he’s a clean freak, but even the thin trail of gleaming saliva that now dribbles past the corner of your mouth and soaks the bedding in a little puddle of spit is kind of adorable.

but it’s not nearly enough.

because bakugou, well, he wants to actually feel the rise and fall of your shoulders kiss the tips of his fingers as he hovers his hand merely an inch above your spine and holds it there. he wants to experience the warmth and softness of your plush thighs as they contrast the callouses and roughness of his palm when he slips it between your legs and explores the space there for a little bit.

he wants his cock to be the reason as to why you’re pushing your cheek into the pillow; trying so desperately to quiet down your whiny little sobs that he’d pull out of you with ever push and pull. he wants to make you drool from how fucked out you’d become as he at long last has his way with you, and not because you’re sleeping, probably dreaming about something as silly as soft marshmallows and vibrant rainbows.

he just wants, and wants, and wants. he wants the bad things that would make him feel good. over the years, he has always been holding back, has always been in search of a good enough reason not to do it, has always acted ignorant towards all that gushing that you tend to do over ‘your big ol’ brother’, with those stupidly big heart eyes that he just can’t stop thinking about the moment his head lands on the pillow and his gaze glues itself to the ceiling.

and now is his chance to not just want, but also to have. it’s the optimal setting for it, actually.

all there’s left to do, is to act.

so he closes the door shut with a soft click. locks it. walks those couple of steps that take him to close the distance between you. he sinks one knee into the mattress, then the other, until he’s so close to your sleeping form that he can smell the faintest whiff of your fruity shower gel.

“fuck me,” he breathes silently, jaw locking shut because of the nerves. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“keep going,” his inner voice says. the one that actually manages to persuade when he’s under the influence. “she’s right there.”

so he takes a good look at you, then. how your eyelashes flutter with sleep and how the bridge of your nose scrunches because of your dreams. he listens to your steady breathing that’s far from panicked — for now, that is. how you softly murmur pure gibberish from time to time. it’s all so sweet.

just like you must be. oh, if he could just get a taste… a single lick…

bakugou has never considered himself to be a pussy, but nearly fiften minutes pass before he at long last stops stalling and grows the balls to seal his fate once and for all. but brave or not, cold sweat still washes over him as he raises his arm and drags his palm between your shoulder blades; fingers as light as a feather as they follow the length of your spine over the silk.

goddammit, he thinks. i’m actually gonna follow through with this fuckin’ shit, huh?

if he were sober, he’d never; he’s well aware of that. despite the anger issues and the short fuse that lead to impulsive decisions, bakugou katsuki has always been in complete control of his actions, surroundings, desires, wishes, yearning, body, spirit, mind, even his goddamn soul. he’s been in control of everything.

but the leash is not so tight anymore, when liquor comes into play, now is it? no, instead it causes the rope to dangle rather loosely around his neck as he sits next to his poor, naive little sister whilst she sleeps in his bed, looking as cute as a button despite the slutty nightgown. it sets him free to devour her whole.

you twitch at the sudden contact he initiates and unconsciously readjust into a more comfortable position. staring with wide eyes and even wider pupils, katsuki doesn’t miss the way your hips wiggle with the movement. the way your toes curl before relaxing once more.

so… cute.

he waits for you to settle again, almost forgetting to breathe as the long seconds pass one after the other. his heart is beating so fast the entire time. it makes him feel nauseous with adrenaline as it pounds inside his wide ribcage. even his throat has turned scratchy and dry.

he’s never felt this nervous, not even while out there, on the field.

when you finally stop squirming around, it takes him a long moment to dare to reach out again. but he does, of course he does. you’re just too inviting to resist. and this time, he’s even courageous enough to let his rough fingers travel up your leg instead.

he starts at the ankle, goes up to your calf, the back of your knee, your thigh. until he’s just an inch below the apex of your plush thighs, where that sweet little cunt of yours is hiding away from him.

the particular spot is so warm. bakugou sharply inhales through his nose and exhales through lips that can’t help but slightly quiver as he curls one finger and watches your eyebrows knit together. you’re still asleep, even as he starts to carefully stroke you down there, dragging a single knuckle up and down your clothed pussy, drawing out the slit.

your breathing pattern changes as he continues with his immoral ministrations. up and down, up and down, up and down. by the time he circles your clit and nudges between your lips to add the slightest amount of pressure to it, you start to pant and push your ass higher into the air in response.

there’s a smile forcing itself onto bakugou’s face, now.

you want it.

and sure, while you might not have exactly said that you want it out loud, the way your body reacts to him still speaks for itself.

after all, you’re already getting so wet that your cutesy little panties are turning damp and sticky with arousal. gently prodding at your hole now while massaging your clit through the thin cotton with the help of his thumb, katsuki briefly wonders if anyone has ever touched you like this before. that, or maybe your cunt is fucking drooling simply because it’s the first time it’s experiencing a stimulation from a hand that isn’t your own.

yes, he knows that you’ve touched yourself before. he’s heard a little moan and a certain kind of buzzing through the paper thin wall once or twice since his mom had married your dad and had forced you all to live together as a ‘family’, even if the term is complete and utter bullshit from his point of view. but not because he was listening in or anything. definitely not.

but never mind that. this whole situation is so perfect; you’re just so perfect. his cock is hard at the sight and the feel of you, even if he can’t feel his feet quite right from how much he’s drank. it’s stubbornly pressing against the zipper of his jeans, getting bigger with the rush of blood that’s being pumped into it, wanting out so bad. pre-cum is literally leaking out the tip.

maybe he could pull it out just for a quick second to give it a stroke or two; just to ease the pressure that is making his skin feel way too tight. or perhaps he could carefully take your hand and wrap your dainty little fingers around the girth… pretend that you did it by your own free will as he fucks your fist and…

“mmh… katsuki?”

however, as perfect as everything is, the illusion comes crashing down from the way you’re kind of messing it up, now. groaning in sleepy puzzlement and trying to push him away as you start to wake at the sudden touches to land upon the lower half of your body, you’re ruining his moment by refusing him on instinct.

he tries not to take offense by it. but it still hurts as he pulls his hand away before you can notice.

“what,” he says.

“hey,” you mumble, slumber turning your tongue all too heavy inside your mouth. you just look so dazed, and he catches himself wanting to slap the stupid expression right off of your pretty face all of a sudden. i mean, how dare you ruin this for him?

“what’s going on…?” you ask.

“shh. keep quiet, kid. nothing’s goin’ on,” he drawls as a displeased frown forms at the sight of your sleep-riddled eyes connecting with his own. he thought that he’d have more time to at least pull your panties to the side and actually see your cunt, but now that you’re conscious, he has to act his role of the responsible big brother yet again.

what a fucking bummer.

“you just fell asleep in my bed,” he dully explains. “relax.”

“oh,” you say, and from the way how you avert your eyes away from him now, he can tell that you’re embarrassed. “i must have dozed off. i guess.”

the truth is that you missed him. but it’s not like you’ll ever admit it.

he just stares at you, cleverly hiding both his boner and disappointment as you jut your bottom lip out and sit up, still avoiding eye contact. he can tell that you’re hot and bothered, even more so that you’re confused by the reason as to why. the way there’s heat lazily swirling in your belly and how your panties must be clinging to your pussy right now has surely got to be infuriating.

god, if he could just—

“sorry, i’ll, uh—” realization of your disheveled appearance settles within you, and you rush to fix the strap and the hem of your nightgown until you’re at least partially decent once more. rubbing your neck sheepishly, you finish what you were going to say with a tight little chuckle, “i’ll be going back to my room, now.”

“not so fast,” he says, and now his hand presses against your chest without a second — rational — thought. before you can even utter a word of protest, he’s pushing you right back onto the mattress. it’s quite forceful, really. but he’s always been a tough guy like that, you suppose.

he manhandles you into the spooning position and his arm is almost uncomfortably heavy as he drapes it around your middle the moment and pulls you close and locks you in. the sigh that leaves his lips is warm and smells like booze as it tickles the top of your cheek. your limbs intertwine, but he makes sure that his hips are nowhere near yours; at least not until his dick settles the fuck down.

“katsuki?” you repeat in a whisper, growing confusion lacing your already unsure tone for a second time. he’s usually never this clingy, but to be fair, he’s usually never this drunk either.

“you can stay, or whatever,” he murmurs in reply, his voice gruff but soft at the same time. he’s so close that his face is literally hiding in the crook of your neck. it only causes the heat in the pit of your stomach to worsen. especially as he whispers into your skin, “just stop actin’ so fuckin’ weird already and do that thing i like, yeah?”

you blink. stiffen. “what thing?”

“with the hair.”

“oh... yeah, all right.” you pause as relief washes over you. you don’t know what you’ve been expecting, but his request resonates well with you. “but i thought that you didn’t like it when i touched your hair?”

bakugou grins. it’s more feral and predatory than it is friendly, but it’s too dark for you to notice, and besides, you’re not facing him anyway.

he ignores your question, and instead replies with a simple, “attagirl. get to it, then.”

you try to ignore how the praise makes you feel and instead just do what he demands of you.

as your fingers start to comb through his ash blonde hair in calming, obedient strokes; katsuki realizes he’s safe. having slept through the entire thing, you don’t have a single clue of what just happened. of what he did. of what line he’d crossed.

and maybe, just maybe if he’s lucky enough, you’ll remain clueless even as he has a bit more fun with you the moment you fall asleep again.

for the night is still long, and its shadows bring so many opportunities to light.

[callout-tee]

this is a post and blog meant to call out user @saetoru, whose blog is archived but now uses the account @ctrltoru. i highly encourage everyone to block both of her accounts.

i assume everyone already knows the controversy surrounding this user, but either way, i made this account to share my experience and the experiences of other blogs with tee.

hi, i'm a mutual of tee's and a little while back, tee confided her new tumblr (@ctrltoru) to me. we've been mutuals for a decent amount of time, but ever since october 2022, my opinion of tee has gone down the drain.

TLDR: as time went on, i found it harder and harder to excuse her actions. she's run many of our favorite writers off tumblr, and frankly, it's not a stretch to attribute jjk tumblr's growing toxicity to her presence here.

[ CW discourse. ]

read @/garoujo's post first. if you scroll through the reblogs, many other writers, including many big blogs that i'm sure you'll recognize, have had similar experiences with tee.

the anons: many big blogs left tumblr or moved accounts because of hate anons being sent on tee's behalf. many of them were death threats that included any number of slurs.

in tee's post meant to explain the archival of her account, she never even addressed the main problem, which is the fact that she, her mutuals, and her anons (most of which were sent by her) are the reason so many writers were harassed off the app.

tee has an ongoing habit of causing drama with any blog she feels threatened by. ever since her haikyuu days, this has happened over and over again. first it was emmie (@/garoujo), then it was yoru (@/anantaru), and then it was karma (@/kazushawty), and so many more and who knows who it'll be next.

as someone who has a decently sized blog myself, i understand feeling frustrated that a blog who hasn't been writing as long as you have is getting as many, if not more notes than you, because it's natural to feel that way. however, what isn't natural is actually doing something about your immature ego and going out of your way to be rude, directly or not to the person involved.

all the writers who reblogged emmie's callout post before leaving had one major thing in common: they kept receiving death threats on tee's behalf. this is both the anons' and tee's fault, because it's a fact that tee knew about this. i knew that she knew about this, but did tee ever tell her followers to stop? no, she didn't.

if you don't speak out against death threats being sent on your behalf, you're condoning them. tee handled it badly, and it was not a mistake. in fact, many of the anons sent were from tee and her mutuals herself: it's obvious, and it's disappointing.

the plagiarism accusations: it's a canon event for every jjk writer to get accused of "plagiarizing" tee. emmie got accused of copying her generic instagram theme, karma got accused of copying her generic mdni banners, sabrina (@/osaemu) got accused of copying her generic title, and so many more people have shared their experiences with tee too.

maybe tee's shots in the dark were right once or twice, but if you're accusing every single writer of copying your themes/banners/titles (bffr, who actually cares about titles) then frankly, you're the problem.

there's inherent bias within people's heads (this includes everyone, not just tee) that makes them want to see similarities between them and others. that's just how the human brain works. however, again, that doesn't excuse making it a canon event for every single jjk writer to have a bad interaction with you.

i'm not the only one who feels this way. back in october, every jjk blog i know had something to say on this matter. anons, writers, and many of my mutuals all knew tee was in the wrong, but it's disappointing to see how even then, she still had a platform.

again, if you want to hear the stories behind why your favorite writers left the app, read the reblogs on this post.

and finally, who remembers the post tee made saying that everyone should be "thanking" her for "what she's done" for the jjk fandom?

moment of silence please, let that sink in.

i don't even need to say anything about that, because her words speak for themselves.

moving on, i hate to be this honest (i don't), but how are you gonna be a grown adult and talk like a fourteen year old kpop stan? being a good writer doesn't mean you can be a bad person: you're not a celebrity. we're all a bunch of losers here to fuck gojo satoru, and if you're going to go out of your way to try to be the queen bee of tumblr dot com, then the rest of us have no problem calling you out.

honestly, it's sad that some people on this app can be such amazing writers but, at the same time, such immature people. this includes tee and many of her mutuals. being good at something isn't mutually exclusive. i can be a good writer, and so can you—we can coexist peacefully, but people like tee are what's making that so hard for the rest of us.

again, block users @saetoru and @ctrltoru. tee doesn't deserve your time.

(tagging for reach, because everyone deserves to know about this. sorry for the tag abuse, i know it's annoying.)

[teratosfavouritesnack]

| Masterlist |

First of all let me introduce myself and my blog.

Hiii, fellow monster lovers and welcome! I'm Näckros and this is my monster friendly (too friendly) side blog where I post any cute or filthy thought that crosses my mind. English is not my first language so if I make any mistakes please tell me so I can improve. I'm a porn with plot type of gal, which means that I tend to set the mood of the story before I get into the smut stuff, so (were)bear that in mind! And on that note, THIS IS A 18+ BLOG SO MINORS, BEGONE 💋

This blog is a safe space for all the weirdos and the delulus who think that they could get railed by werebeasts, minotaurs, orcs, dragons, weird aliens, giants even, and not be ripped in two. The fictional world is amazing precisely because we can do whatever the hell we want in it so let's forget the realistic technicalities while we're here, yeah? Let's allow our imagination to run free and enjoy what it comes up with. Let's be degenerates together. <3

My ask box is always open - you can send questions or open discussions about any theme regarding monsters; you can send requests of monsters you'd like to read a story about; you can send suggestions, share your own fantasies, recommending books, movies, videogames, other blogs; you can also send me feedback on things I've written (it's always highly appreciated and motivating). I do not put any limits - If I don't like something, I will simply not answer.

My DMs are also always open for anyone who wants to chat and become mutuals, but please be patient with me if I'm late to answer. I swear I'm not ignoring you, I'm just anxious + lazy + unable to manage time but also always doing something, which could be either writing stories for this blog, or fanfictions for my main blog or making digital art for my art side blog. So yeah, I won't always be avaliable, nor will I post daily on here.

I have a Ko-fi where you can leave tips if you like what I write and you want (but mostly, can) support me. I write for my own enjoyment of course but I'm a jobless student and money unfortunately is scarse. So even just a small tip as a 'thank you' can help me.

What else can I add?

BE RESPECTFUL - DO NOT SHAME ANYONE FOR THEIR KINKS - DO NOT BE RUDE - DO NOT COPY OR REPOST OR TRANSLATE OR MODIFY MY STORIES IN ANY WAY

That being said, enjoy your stay and thank you for following this weirdo here and enjoying the products of her weird mind 💜

SFW | scenarios - imagines - fics

Cold Hands -> vampire boyfriend x afab!human

Nighttime Muse -> vampire boyfriend x human

Meet Cute -> minotaur x human - more about this

Accidental Summoning -> demon-like creature x afab!human

Bouncer in Love -> [part 2] - [part 3 coming soon] werebear bouncer x afab!human

Death in Childbirth -> dragon husband x afab!human

Cat and Mouse -> werepanther biker x afab!human

NSFW | scenarios - imagines - fics

Period Tracker -> werewolf boyfriend x afab!human

The Lover -> [part.2 coming soon] unknown monster x afab!human

First Date with BFF -> werewolf x human

Ready For His Cock -> minotaur boyfriend x afab!human

Big Bad Wolf -> werewolf boyfriend x human

Well-Fed Cat -> cat hybrid boyfriend x afab!human

Tests Subjects -> werebear x human [longer fic coming soon]

Prankster -> [part 2] ghost x afab!human

Pouncing Panther -> werepanther husband x human

Dirty Hobby -> roommate!werewolf x afab!human

Wet for the Doctor -> gyno!lizard man x afab!human [longer fic]

Tavern Orgy -> multiple monsters x fem!human

Companionship in the Labyrinth -> minotaur x afab!human

Cow Dreams -> alien x afab!human

Helping Hand -> centaur x human

_

Ishtà-kurme -> husband!orc x chubby!fem!human x husband's sons

Jack of all Trades -> robot x afab!human

Search #teratosnack's poll for all the polls I made

Search #monster art or #terato art for the beautiful art I reblog

Search #teratosnack for all my stories

Search #snack answered; for my answers to your asks

If you click on the 🪷 you can find under every post I write, you will be brought here, directly to the Masterlist.

Credits to @ anitalenia for all the dividers I use for my posts 🫶🏻

[mysticbewitched]

My Beliefs Have Evolved..

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

▪︎ I'm about to piss off some popular bloggers & start a major fire in this community.

{ Lights, Camera, Action.}

A serious epiphany hit me hard out of nowhere as I was wandering through some of my old posts way back when I first started this blog. As I was reading through some of my old writings from my former posts, I realized that I held certain beliefs at those times that no longer resonate with me anymore.

I did not realize at the time, but I took some teachings of things from Neville in a *literal manner* that were never supposed to be taken in that way and some aspects of my understanding of the law of consciousness were completely distorted due to the ridiculous amount of ignorant misinformation and misinterpretations flooding through tumblr.

I admit that in the beginning, I was one of the ignorant ones, and it was because of all the information you're constantly seeing spread around like chaotic wildfire in this community.

It clearly warped my understanding and I thought I finally had Neville's teachings all figured out.

Let me tell you, I was beyond wrong.

Recently, I had discovered that I've been missing the main puzzle piece: the entire source of the law of consciousness.

For that reason alone, I want everyone to know that I will most definitely be revamping and transforming quite a lot of my older posts to reflect my newer, evolved beliefs to reflect the philosophy of nondualism.

Now before you start stressing out, I want to explain to you that Neville Goddard was actually teaching nondualism at the core of his teachings, which a lot of people wrongly mistake as something separate or completely different from the law of consciousness.

They could not be more mistaken, and they simply do not understand it. The law of consciousness is the expression of nondualism at its core.

I'm here to tell you that they are the exact same philosophy with different delivery. That is truthfully what Neville was teaching about all this time.

Now whether or not you believe in nondualism, that's entirely up to you, and you are free to believe whatever you wish. - I just want you to truly understand and realize that Neville Goddard was, in fact, truly teaching nondualism.

Admittedly, Neville did start off his teachings with some limiting beliefs, but he eventually evolved in his beliefs and his teachings after he experienced the promise.

The law of consciousness is just a name for the physical expression of nondualism's philosophy. Simple as that.

For everyone who is here for the "law of assumption" and you are being led to believe that you are somehow separate from your own reality, or the law of consciousness is a law "operating outside of you"- you are seriously not being taught the law of consciousness in the way that Neville Goddard actually intended for you to understand the whole core his teachings.

*Your understanding of the law is being warped and twisted out of shape because of all the countless amounts of misinformation.*

Neville Goddard and Alan Watts both taught nondualism at its core. However, their styles of teaching were different from the other, and they were focused on different aspects of nondualism.

Neville focused his teachings on the true operation of the law of consciousness shaping our own lives from within us for his listeners to understand how to consciously create their own realities while Alan Watts' teachings were more centered around our true self as unmatched, infinite awareness and how we as awareness are the original source of the universe experiencing the physical expression of itself.

Nondualism is all about oneness and unity, not separation.

All the total bullshit you hear these days coming from the most popular bloggers in this community about: "The 4D vs. The 3D", "The 3D conforming to your desires", or "The 4D is more real than the 3D" -

Blah, blah, blah.

Throw all of that shit out of the door.

All of that implies separation. There is no separation.

You are the prime *source of all creation* and one with all. This is what true nondualism is all about.

You are source of the universe.

You are God of your own reality and all things come from *within.*

All comes from within. This is the core of nondualism: absolute oneness and unity.

You are one with your reality.

Consciousness is the only reality.

"All things come from within; nothing comes from without-" - Neville Goddard

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

A lot of my former beliefs were about:

▪︎ The "3D conforming" - That's a huge no, no. There is no damn "conforming" going on, and I will explain all about that in another post. "Conforming" implies separation, and there is absolutely no separation. You and your reality are *one*. Simple as that.

▪︎ Taking Neville's whole "mirror" comparison in a literal manner to imply separation between imagination and reality.

Guess what? That teaching from Neville was *never* meant to be taken as literal.

I'll say it louder for the people in the back this time. There is absolutely *no* separation. Your reality "mirrors" your state of mind because there is no separation between you and your reality.

You can thank the ridiculous flood of popularized misinformation flowing through this platform for making me think there was some sort of invisible, barrier between imagination and reality that performed as a literal mirror in action.

What the hell was I thinking? Most definitely not. Those former beliefs of mine are history and deep in the trash where they belong.

▪︎ Focusing on the "time" with manifestations:

I actually now feel as if focusing your attention on the "time" implies a lack mindset because you're just supposed to focus on enjoying already having your desires in the present moment.

"Time" does not matter.

Stressing out and worrying about the "time" is a strong indicator of a victimhood mindset, and I only want to empower my followers to step into their power and change their mindset to manifest their dreams.

I firmly believe that the more confidence in yourself and your own ability to manifest, the less "time" it takes for the physical manifestation of your desire to be expressed in your reality.

▪︎ Thinking as if the "law of assumption" was a law that was somehow operating outside of us. -

Oh, hell no, it's not. Not even close.

The law of consciousness is *you*.

Everything is coming from within you.

You are the *infinite source of all creation.*

It's simply a beautiful and freeing realization.

Free yourself from the chains of misinformation.

▪︎ { I will be doing a post sometime to explain nondualism in greater detail and how it is actually about the true nature of the law of consciousness under a different name and form of delivery. }

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

None of the former beliefs reflect my views anymore, and people who are still following these beliefs are only overcomplicating and distorting their understanding of Neville's teachings about the law of consciousness.

I resonate far deeper with the true intended teachings of nondualism from Neville and Alan Watts compared to the popular ways that people are trying to teach "law of assumption" these days on here.

I'm just not having it, chief.

I have stepped away and opened my eyes. I am on the outside looking in and I am now seeing just how much distorted misinformation are being blindly accepted as the end-all and be-all from even most of the Neville inspired blogs.

The teachings from Neville in this modern community are incredibly warped and distorted. These people just don't get it, man and I remember being in the exact same position, myself.

I shake my head when I think about the old, ignorant version of myself. I really thought I had it all figured out and I was missing the main piece of the puzzle the whole entire time to tie everything together.

It is now safe for me to say that I have definitely strayed far away from the distorted misconceptions and "popular" ways a lot of bloggers are trying to teach "law of assumption" these days. I'm just not having it, man. The ignorance is unbearable.

*Knowledge is power* and you want to make sure that you are being exposed to the right information from others that will simplify everything and actually help you achieve success on your manifestation journey.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■