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#the reblog button exists for a reason
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PSA to
a) not repost art without permission
b) be careful to not reblog reposter accounts
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glacierruler · 2 years
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Reblogs
So, I think that everyone on tumblr should just take a week to reblog all of the things that they liked. Because it seems that a majority of tumblr users don't know how to fucking reblog something. Reblogging things helps get shit out there, whether it be a post that could save lives, some great art, or a random shitpost. I know that the last week in every month from now on, I'm going to dedicate that to mainly reblogs, I'm starting this for me next month.
Right, just to make this clear:
Reblogs are better than likes
I get not reblogging everything you come across the minute you come across it, but reblogging really gets shit out there. But I know with especially my artwork and my story telling, I would prefer it if people reblogged those instead of just liking them
If the blog you are using isn't one you want to reblog stuff on, that's fine. Just make another blog somewhat or mainly dedicated to reblogging.
Reblogging shit helps out artists, writers, and literally everyone else.
If someone doesn't want you to reblog something of theirs they can turn off reblogs, so don't worry about that.
This is not like Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, Tiktok, etc. Likes do almost nothing. Likes are fine and dandy and I give out likes too, but to help get whatever it is out there, you need to reblog it! I end up liking stuff so I can reblog it later, and then I completely forget about it.
Reblogs are different than reposts
You might be scared to reblog something, because you thought it was the same thing as reposting something(I know I used to.) They aren't the same
Reblogs still give credit to the person who originally posted that. Reposts is taking someone's work and passing it off as your own.
When you reblog something you will see your username and there will be a little rectangle, made of two arrows pointing at each other and then the username of the person you reblogged the post from. The first message will contain the username of the person who made the original post. If this is not what you see when you've reblogged something, that means that you're doing it wrong.
Other Reblog stuff
When you reblog something, you don't have to say something else or even put tags if you don't want to. If you end up changing your mind you can reblog the post again with what you want to say and what tags you're going to use. You can also edit it if you want, but another reblog would be more helpful.
Remember, you can always go back and view your likes and reblog them whenever. I know my likes are just filled up because my brain was like 'future reblog' when I pressed that little heart.
Absolutely roasting someone is okay and even encouraged in most circumstances
To reblog something there is a botton that looks like a rectangle with two arrows pointing at eachother. You just hit that, say what you want to say and/or tag it, or not. And click reblog.
Reblog this if you too will take even just a day out of a month to reblog your likes, or if you want to get it out there that people on tumblr need to start actually fucking using tumblr!
Oh and just incase it escaped the people who came here from other social media platforms:
Tumbler is not like other social media platforms, so don't treat it like it is. Here's how it works, you post random shit and reblog random shit. DO NOT REPOST.
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syn4k · 9 months
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if u put a ton of work and effort into creating videos of any kind and that video includes speech and you have the means time energy etc to add subtitles to said video and you dont then you are a prick and i do not like you
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FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)
You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.
But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.
(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"
From the 404 article:
A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”
So please, go click that opt-out button.
(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"
Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”
It should make a difference! Go click that button.
(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"
This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:
This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.
And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:
zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.
So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)
Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)
(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"
I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.
Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:
The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.
So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*
But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:
The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.
On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:
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For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.
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Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.
If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.
Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.
I hope this helps!
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dimepdf · 1 year
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★  𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
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masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.
─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).
─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.
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IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.
Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.
Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.
Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.
When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.
In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.
Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.
With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.
It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches. 
His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.
There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.
All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.
"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.
His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.
"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.
Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed. 
"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet. 
Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.
"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.
"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."
Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.
"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.
His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.
You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had. 
Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs. 
It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.
The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.
"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.
He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.
"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."
You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.
Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.
He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"
"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.
Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me." 
Your brows creased together in confusion. 
"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose. 
"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.
You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.
It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.
His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.
"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.
"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.
"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game. 
Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."
So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.
"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.
"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."
You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.
The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.
And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.
Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.
You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"
A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"
You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."
"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.
Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.
You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp. 
"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.
His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.
"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."
You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.
Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.
"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."
"...fuck you."
The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.
Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.
"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy. 
As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.
All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.
As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.
"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.
"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.
Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.
Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.
"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.
Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.
A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips. 
The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.
Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.
You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax. 
With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you. 
Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."
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🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz
tap here to be added to taglist.
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etz-ashashiyot · 1 month
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In light of these* previous posts, I am rerunning these polls. Please vote however they apply to you, and spread them for reach even if they don't apply to you. Thanks!!
(*Context: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5])
ONLY answer this if you are Jewish and self-identify as an Anti-Zionist! By which I mean: you voluntarily describe yourself as an Anti-Zionist. Other people describing your views that way is not sufficient. Being pressured into labeling yourself that way for reasons unrelated to your beliefs is not sufficient. You MUST actively choose to label yourself as an Anti-Zionist. If you are a lukewarm Anti-Zionist but are fine with it under certain conditions, that's a personal judgment call. Feel free to answer this poll, the non-/post-Zionist/other poll, or both (if it changes).
If you click that button, you are saying under oath that YOU🫵 are a Jewish Anti-Zionist 🙂
Please answer your IDEAL solution, not necessarily what you think would be the most likely or most practical, but your idealized outcome. I intend to reblog each of these with a second poll that asks what your preferred pragmatic solution would be after posting.
Everyone please be respectful of the folks replying to this poll, as with the others. There are lots of other places to debate people or discourse, but this post is not one of them. My goal here is simply to gather information and others' perspectives, not to argue or deconstruct them.
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rookiesbookies · 5 months
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Oh my God, if you wrote more sex doll!141 I would be thrilled. It's such a good concept and you've executed it wonderfully!! (Personally I'm partial to simon but if you wrote any of the other characters I would still eat it up).
-🦝
So I’m going to be honest, Simon is a very difficult character for me to right in intimate situations because of how his character is structured. It’s one of the reasons I have trouble flushing out how I write him and why he may be much more varying than my other boys when I write them fic to fic. He’s truthfully the hardest character for me to right and he’s the one I know the most about so I hope this is good.
Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, check out my AU list for more like this. Don’t forget to leave me a comment (i always try to respond) or a request in my inbox (i also try to respond to these when I can), a reblog, or even just a like to let me know what yall want to see!
I gift you, Sex Doll!Simon and his loser!reader as a gift. As always, under the cut.
A doll and his loser 2, electric boogaloo.
When Simon’s lady had ordered him, she had also been drunk. She was ovulating, feeling sorry for herself, and incredibly horny when the ad on whatever porn site she was on popped up for the sex dolls. So she scrolled through the options, noticing the ‘Johnny’ Doll was sold out, but it didn’t matter, one had caught her eye immediately. The doll style they had named ‘Simon’. His mask made her run wild. She noticed how the pants clung to his thighs and wide shoulders and it made her mouth water. She couldn’t even remember what she ordered the next morning between headaches and vomiting but she just assumed it was something she forgot and paid off that credit card charge.
It was days later when the box arrived.
“Big ole box you got there,” her neighbor teased, “need help getting it in, little lady?”
She huffed, she had been trying to push it in for about 20 minutes. “Please,” she whined.
Her neighbor helped get the probably 200 pound package into her room. The box was all scratched, fragile stickers torn. She thanked her neighbor and ushered him out as she began to open the weird box.
The language seemed made up, but she didn’t expect to get the box open and a giant Ken doll to fall on her with a loud thud as the two hit her floor.
“You’re a big bitch,” she groaned as she shoved the doll off her. His eyes fluttered open and she watched him curiously. “Hi.”
She was met with silence. He seemed mute, like his mouth was stuck shut.
Confused and slightly disappointed, she stared down at the doll lying on her floor.
She had expected an interactive experience, a companion that would fulfill her desires, but all she had in front of her was a lifeless figure. Frustration began to well up within her, fueled by the lingering effects of her hangover.She had gotten wasted the night before again.
Frustrated, she decided to give the doll a chance. After all, she had spent a considerable amount of money on it, and maybe there was a way to activate its features. She carefully inspected the doll, running her hands over its smooth, artificial skin and marveling at the intricate details. But no matter how hard she looked, there didn't seem to be any buttons or switches that would bring it to life.
Determined to find a solution, she grabbed her laptop and searched for the website where she had made the purchase. But it was as if the site never existed. It wasn’t in her search history, it wasn’t in her purchase history, she couldn’t even find a number on the box.
Frustration turned to confusion as she scrolled through her browsing history, desperately trying to find any trace of the website that had led her to this mysterious doll. It was as if the entire transaction had been erased from existence.
Feeling a mixture of unease and curiosity, she decided to take matters into her own hands. With the doll still lying motionless on the floor, she sat down next to it and began examining every inch of its body. Perhaps there was some hidden mechanism, some secret activation method that she had missed.
Then she saw the icon on the box between the gibberish writing, something about the lips.
She crouched down and tenderly pressed her lips against the cool, skin textured rubber of the cheek of the robot. In response, his previously stiff body began to move and his facial features softened into a look of happiness.
A surge of excitement coursed through her veins as she realized that there was more to this doll than met the eye. She had stumbled upon something extraordinary, something beyond her wildest dreams. Her hangover instantly forgotten, she eagerly awaited what would happen next.
Slowly but surely, the doll began to move. Its previously inanimate limbs twitched and flexed as if awakening from a deep slumber.
“Hi,” she said softly, running her hand over the mask.
He flipped his mask up over his lips and quickly kissed her passionately.
She let out a squeak as he climbed on top of her.
“So pent up,” he mumbled, kissing down her neck as she giggled. His hands roaming free. “So stiff, I could use a good stretch, love. And it seems based on your purchase of me, you could too.” He said with a teasing tone before pulling off her pants she wore to work.
He began to eat her through her panties, but it was more lip locking with her lower set. He moved her panties to the side and continued his make out session with her labia. His teeth occasionally gently pulling on them. He took his sweet time getting her wet before he did any more. He spit on her then dug in.
Messy, his face covered in her natural lube, mask rubbing against her clit.
She sat there like this for a while but she got too loud so he stretched his long arm so his palm stretched over her mouth, thumb rubbing her cheek as he continued. Her eyes rolling back as he edged her slowly. One, then two, then three times. Her body convulsing as he finally lifted himself, she let out a whine and he shushed her before freeing himself from his jeans.
He got real close to his ear. “How badly.” He commanded.
She whined out pitifully as a plea.
“Good.” He said, throwing a leg over his shoulder before sliding in and thrusting. A fast pace in, a roll of the hips, and slow pull out. He held this pace for so long she began to feel like the sex doll. It was brutal in the most wonderful way.
Toe curling.
Ball smacking.
Pussy dripping.
Best sex of her life.
Her cervix thoroughly bullied.
Her moans muffled and covered by his rough palm.
Her rug covered in sweat, her flooring under it glistening with heat.
When he finally let her come it was like reaching the peak of Everest. She gasped and whined and moaned, almost screamed into his palm. He fucked her through it and came not long after from her body milking his cock.
He removed his hand and cock making her whine, returning his mouth to her cunt to make out with it again.
He cleaned her of his cum before picking her up and running a bath.
“Worth every penny.” Was all her mushed brain could muster.
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lilywastaken · 2 years
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⇝ SLEEPING + CUDDLING HCs !
CC!Dream, CC!Sapnap, CC!GeorgeNotFound, CC!TommyInnit x GN!Reader.
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SUMMARY: how cuddling with some of my fav CCs would be like!
WARNINGS: SFW!
A/N: my first headcanons! I'll probably do a part two soon with some of the other CCs (quackity, karl, jack, etc), but I'll see! Please please please don't forget to reblog or comment if you enjoy the post, it helps a lot!! Thank you so so much for reading!! <3
MASTERLIST.
Also on Ao3!
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DREAM:
I feel like Dream's love language is mostly physical touch, so he'd be the most willing to cuddle.
And although he probably has a very fucked up sleep schedule and only gets to cuddle you for a few hours before you wake up, his soft touch and warm body is so worth it.
If you're asleep by the time he gets to bed, he quietly sneaks underneath the covers and instantly searches for you with his arms, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his hold.
He mostly likes being the big spoon, pressing your back to his chest so he's able to snuggle his face into the crook of your neck and press soft kisses along your skin, smiling if you giggle or try and playfully wriggle away from his affections.
But just because he's normally the big spoon, doesn't mean he dislikes being held.
There are a few days where he just wants to collapse into your arms and let you hug him, run your fingers through his soft hair while he snuggles his face into your chest.
Much like everyone, he likes being held and comforted at times, it just reminds him that he isn't alone, and that whenever he has a bad day, he can come to you so you can make it better.
This man will drop whatever he's doing if you ask for a quick cuddle session. Training for mcc? He can train later. Cooking dinner? Food can wait. In the middle of a stream? The mute button exists for a reason.
Speaking of streaming, if he's live without his face cam on and craves affection, he will most definitely text you non-stop to come and sit on his lap so he can hold you while he plays.
Doesn't matter if it's Minecraft or some first person shooter, he'll manage. You're more important, after all.
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SAPNAP:
Much like his best friend, Sapnap's very touchy when it comes to his s/o.
His hand is always either intertwined with yours or slipped into your back pocket when you're outside, the need to be close to you too much for him, and it doesn't really change in private.
Whenever you're lying down, be it on the sofa or in bed, he will always find a way to be draped on top of you or holding you to his chest, depending on his mood.
Sometimes he wants nothing more than to be held and kissed, and sometimes he just wants to hold you flush to his chest and nestle his face into your hair.
How he wants to cuddle fully relies on his mood.
If he's sad or angry or annoyed, he just wants to be held and coddled, with his head either resting on your lap or on your chest, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as he waits for you to run your fingers through his hair and massage his scalp, an action that turns him into putty almost immediately. Sometimes when he's too pissed off or upset, he keeps quiet, letting you do your thing while he clings to you; but if he's feeling up for it and you let him, he'll rant about whatever got him in a mood, appreciating your patience when it comes to him.
But, if he's in an actual good mood, happy or cocky or confident, he feels the need to show off, in a way. And so, he hugs you tightly to his chest, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands run over the soft skin of your stomach, head snuggled right next to yours as he whispers sweet nothings and presses sweet kisses up and down your jaw and finally your lips.
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GEORGE:
George is a heavy sleeper.
And because he's a heavy sleeper, he doesn't realise what he does at night, and it makes it quite hard for him to be woken up during his sleep.
He makes sure that he's always pressed up against you, be it with his chest against your back or with your legs wrapped around his waist, his head resting on your chest as he snores softly.
If he can't fall asleep (which is unlikely), he stares up at the ceiling while he plays with your hair, braiding it or running his fingers through it or simply pressing his face into it, enjoying the softness of the whole situation.
And although it makes up for really great and warm cuddles, it's a bit uncomfortable when you have to get up to go to the toilet or to start the day, his arm heavy over your stomach as he sleeps, peacefully unaware of your struggle as you try and get him off you.
Normally, you just cave into his warmth and snuggle into his side, brushing through his fringe with your fingers and running them over his sleeping features, pressing kisses over his jaw in an attempt to wake him.
Spoiler alert, it doesn't.
After a few hours of just lying there either scrolling on your phone or admiring his beauty, he finally starts to stirr, letting out soft groans and moans as he moves to hold you properly. He smiles at you and wishes you good morning, and when you try to move, he pulls you back, asking for "a few more minutes" to which you audibly groan, but succumb to his ministrations.
He isn't really a touchy person out in public, but he always makes sure that he's holding your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. But when you're alone, he lets himself indulge in your touches and hugs, running his warm hands over your skin under your shirt as you lay next to him, eyes drooping closed, threatening to once again fall asleep.
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TOMMY:
Taking the sleepover vlog with Ranboo as reference, Tommy seems to sleep in a fetal position like most people, which makes me instantly think of curling up with him like that.
Assuming that he's way taller than you, you can easily snuggle your back up to his chest and let him hold you, your legs resting on his as he lazily holds an arm over your waist, drawing weird patterns onto your tummy or waist until he falls asleep.
If by chance you're taller than him, I'd like to think that he probably wouldn't think of changing the way he sleeps just to cuddle, so you sleep back to back, with him curled up with his own pillow until you feel him turn over and drape himself over you like a blanket, head lying on your shoulder as he softly snores.
That reminds me, snoring. Although it doesn't really relate to cuddles, I see Tommy as a big snorer. Like even asleep he has to make as much sound as possible. He always denies it as well, even if you've had his head right next to yours the whole night or even if you've recorded him, he refuses any claims that he snores.
Moving on, cuddles during daytime with Tommy are… an experience.
If you're sitting down on a chair or even on the floor, expect to be tackled from behind and picked up. You'll end up flailing your arms in surprise as he attempts to move you into a better position to cuddle, which normally ends with both of you on the floor.
Apart from the mini heart attacks you get from his sudden explosions of affection, cuddling with Tommy isn't that bad. He secretly likes being held sometimes, even if he screams at you whenever you bring it up amongst your friends, resting his head on your tummy or chest and falling asleep happily while you talk about whatever.
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mauesartetc · 7 months
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FREE PALESTINE MASTERPOST
Trying to keep this blog more art- and creativity-focused in general, so I'll be removing the Gaza-related reblogs that are about a month old. But I'll use this post as a permanent archive that will update periodically (some of this information will grow dated as the situation develops, but I think it's important to keep a record of just how fiercely opposed people were to Israel's actions from this moment forward). We should all continue to raise our voices about this, and refuse to support politicians who enable genocide. Remember, they work for us, not the other way around. Keep going.
October 2023
-Donation links
-Social media links
-US congress ceasefire script
-Decolonizepalestine.com (information, mythbusting)
-More donation links
-Ways to pressure politicians for a ceasefire
-HUGE resource list
-"Is there anything I can do to help Palestinians besides call my representatives and beg them to stop killing people?"
-"We are isolated now"
-Palestine and landback
-210 PAGES of dead people's names.
-Bail money for Palestine Action
-Article list
-US action items
-Boycott info
-Grand Central Station shut down by protestors
-Message to white American citizens
-UK ceasefire petition
-How YOU can help Palestine (regularly updated!)
-"Please try amidst all this fury and grief to still have faith in the common people." (+donation links)
-Reminder about protest etiquette and privacy
-Prints for Palestine
-"We have no communication with the outside world. They are using their military might to harm us. We have no power but the power of God, no one but God. Please, pray for us." (spoken over mosque speakers)
-DAILY donate button + more donation links
-"Doesn't Israel have a right to exist too?"
-Script for US Congress calls
-Queerness under apartheid
-Sudan is also at war
-Hundreds of thousands of protestors in London
-Half a million.
-Tips for folks with phone anxiety
-This comic got real
-European and Canadian ceasefire scripts
-"The people of Gaza see the protests. That is reason enough to come even if nothing else." WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU. WE ARE HERE.
November 2023
-More genocides than just Palestine
-How to buy e-sims to circumvent Gaza's internet blackout
-"Occupying territories is illegal. Resistance to occupying forces is legal."
-MASSIVE resource list
-"For decades now the media has told us Muslim men are savages, terrorists, wife beaters and everything in between. I want you to challenge this trope the next time you see it in the media. Let these photos serve as a reminder."
-"Don't stop talking about the Palestinian genocide. IT'S WORKING."
-UN resignation letter
-Israel won't allow Irish or Brazilian citizens to leave Gaza
-"Palestine must never be forgotten. Promise me that." (from the documentary "Children of Shatila")
-Gifs of pro-Palestine rallies around the world
-Support Palestine's last kufiya factory
-Protestors flood the streets in Washington DC
-Explanation of why calling representatives is a numbers game
-FREE ebooks on the history of this conflict
-Petition to screen films by Palestinian directors
-Call to boycott Gal Godot's work
-Indigenous activists block weapons shipment to Israel
-If you're attending a protest, DON'T TELL YOUR GOVERNMENT SHIT. Y'know, friendly advice.
-Links to support Palestine Action and Palestine Legal. Get in the way.
-Parallels between Israel and the surveillance tactics used by NYC mayor Eric Adams
-Don't spiral into doomerism. Persevere.
-Want a different strategy to contact your representatives? Try faxing them!
-Florida rep Michelle Salzman calls for the death of all Palestinians
-"The phone doesn't stop" :)
-Indian trade unions call on the government to scrap deals with Israel
-An overview of Israel's human rights violations, and two major political groups that have exacerbated Zionism in the US
-Israeli man explains why he's protesting
-"Whoever stays until the end will tell the story. We did what we could. Remember us."
-US House of Representatives votes to send billions of dollars worth of weapons to Israel
-Canadian email campaign and petitions
-"Canada's First Nation standing with Palestine"
-"Freedom is infectious as it is just and no one is free until they ALL are."
-Israeli forces invade al-Shia hospital
-Leaked list of weapons the US has sent to Israel
-Only 32% of Americans believe the US should support Israel
-Cop City action demonstrates how to protest effectively
-Refugee grandmother "doesn't have to imagine a multicultural and integrated Palestine- she remembers it".
-Protestors block the Bay Bridge in San Francisco (plus bail fund)
-Israeli forces attack schools in northern Gaza. SCHOOLS.
-Journalist shares an update from an Indonesian hospital and pleads for others to spread it around as it "may be the last video we are able to send"
-Scottish Parliament votes overwhelmingly to demand a ceasefire
-Sobering texts from a friend providing humanitarian aid in Gaza. "They have been distributing guns to the civilian settlers and allowing them into the West Bank to terrorize people" "We have been given option to leave. None took it"
-"the absolute bare minimum in this situation is 1) a complete ceasefire and immediate humanitarian aid in Gaza, 2) complete halt of all military foreign aid to the Israeli government, 3) the Israeli government being prosecuted for its war crimes in the International Criminal Court, and 4) land back and reparations for the Palestinian people. free Palestine means free Palestine, not just temporarily stop carpet bombing Palestine."
-"It's important that you keep posting and speaking about the ongoing genocide. This 5 day agreement isn't the end of things."
-Boosting the incredible, FREE daily donate button again
-Protests at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade
-"REMINDER THAT ANTISEMITES AREN'T WELCOME HERE AND WON'T BE TOLERATED"
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mikareo · 4 months
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ lover, please stay . . . gojo satoru x gn reader
⊹ ⠀⠀ how do you move on, when he never said goodbye? (0.3k)
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there's a concept that isn't talked about enough.
the concept of desperately missing someone who likely hasn't thought about you in days...weeks...maybe even months.
it seems silly to miss this kind of person— who disappeared and left you alone to contemplate everything you ever did during your relationship, and let you believe that you were the reason why they walked away. the easiest thing in the world, is to blame yourself for the desolation of love. the easiest thing in the world, is to revisit the good times and analyze every single second. the easiest thing in the world, is to feel your heart reach out for him whilst knowing his arms will never try to hold yours again.
the easiest thing in the world, is to fall in love with satoru gojo...
...and the hardest thing to do, is to let him go.
'i made it into my program!'
the message sits in the text bar. you can't seem to let yourself press that tiny little arrow button, perhaps out of embarrassment or perhaps out of pride. satoru never even replied to your last text. it'd be pathetic to send another, right? desperate. clingy. psychotic. obsessive. no. you won't send it.
you can't.
satoru doesn't want to hear from you. he doesn't want to talk to you. he doesn't want to acknowledge your existence; so why would he want to receive another notification from a phone number that he likely deleted the contact of? stop humiliating yourself.
you wish you could. you really wish you could; but there's no way to erase the memories of him from that deep corner of your heart whose grip is so strong, you can't rip him out. you can't burn the itch in your brain that goes off every afternoon at one o'clock, urging you to dial his number and greet him with a smile. you can't demolish the attachment in your fingertips that wish they could type at a record speed to tell him the smallest details of your day. you can't erase the longing in your body to feel his touch. to hold him. to hug him. to kiss him. to tell him just how much he means to you— even though you mean absolutely nothing to him...
...because if you had meant something...
...he wouldn't have left.
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⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading, reblogs are greatly appreciated
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sweetismyaddiction · 2 months
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist
SUCROSE
Paring: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Where the nicknames came from, how they meet, starts. (They live in the same building, in the same corridor, just in front of one another… which helps the friendship but couldn't stop Dr. Reid from falling in love)
Word account: 2005
Warnings: Fluff, friends to lovers, anxiety, mentions of menstruation and coffee facts?
A/N: English is not my first language. Reblog, like and comment. I am accepting suggestions for next parts. Please be nice. Past in italic. Gif is not mine, credits to the owner.
Chapter 2: Sugary
Spencer’s point of view
It has been weeks since Morgan met my neighbor and he can’t just drop it aside. At least he has capited a secret so far.
“I am just curious. That 's all. The girl has the key of your place and you never mentioned her.”
“I did talk about her…”
It's a murmur, Morgan almost can't hear it, maybe things were better when no one knew she existed besides me.
“She called you Sugarpout… Does Pretty Boy have a Lady?”
There is mocking in his tone, and a little of happiness.
“What exactly are you asking Morgan?”
“Are you two dating?”
“She is my friend, we ain't dating”
“Oh, pitty, she is beautiful, maybe I should gave a shot, she is very talkative”
“Leave the girl alone Derek.”
“Why? Are you jealous? Worried that I stil her? We could be your couple's best friend. Me and her would make cute babies”
“I am not jealous. Just shut up”
He leaves me be, we take care of paperwork, but he can't stop, it's like I can hear the engineers of his brain thinking.
“Ok, I just really got to know, where Sugarpout came from? I can't stop thinking about that”
“Why? Is just a nickname”
“A special nickname”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“Why so much secret?”
The truth is, I don’t really know why, where, when it all started. Is if we have being knowing each other even before we existed.
—----------------------------------------------------------
It was a rainy day, and I was just getting to my building when a strange woman got under my umbrella tugging herself at me.
“My savior. Could you leave me there? To that building?”
Was my building… is she a stalker?
“Sorry for just throwing myself at you. Is just I am made from sugar, so I could have melted with the rain”
Ok, she gots a weird sense of humor. Doesn’t she know about the danger of talking with strangers? That is one of the reasons I get so much work to do. She smells nice though… What am I thinking? Why is she staring at me? Say something Spencer!
“Ahn… yes… I was just going that way too.”
We walk together to the building and she opens the door, almost closing it in my face.
“Sorry. Why are you coming in?”
“I live here”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know that. I am a new resident. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too”
She didn’t try to shake my hand… so she respects boundaries and personal space the same way she doesn’t do that? She is so confusing, she seems like a very complex human being.
We both get to the elevator and she presses the button… is my floor button… How I didn’t know about someone moving to my floor? Maybe because I spent the last three days away in a case. The elevator stops and she gets out with me behind her, observing her body language. Wait a minute, that’s… she lives just in front of me.
“Are you following me?”
“Ehn…” she catch me staring, I am probably very red and more awkward then the normal me. “No, no. It's just, we are neighbors, I live here, just across the hall.”
She keeps looking at me, like if she is not sure to believe me or not, just open your damn door Spencer, and prove you ain't lying.
“See?”
“Nice place, very organized…”
When she ends up beside me? Her eyes run across my place, making quick analysis scanning what she can see by the door.
“Ok, I will live you be, sorry for being so intrusive, and thanks for the umbrella ride.”
“You’re welcome. Also, welcome to the building”
She smiles, her smile is pretty.
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There is a nock on my door. Weird, I basically don’t get visited. I open it slowly and there she is the rain day girl, and she has something in hands.
“Hi, I made some cookies, and decided to give you some, since you were so nice to me that day”
“Oh, thanks.” I was very surprised. “You didn’t have to.”
“No problem, it is a pleasure. I hope you like them. It is the classic one, with chocolate drips.”
“It was very thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it.”
I take it from her hands, every time I see her there is that warm feeling, she is always so nice to me.
“How is the moving going?”
“Slow, I'm still putting things in place. The kitchen is almost ready. I am not in a rush to finish it to be honest. Just, baby steps, one day at a time…”
“Well, it is your space, your stuff, it is alright going slow, its you, it should go in your pace”
“Thanks. Well, when you finish the cookies you can return the ball.”
—--------------------------------------------------------------
The cookies were the most delicious ones I have eaten in my life. I made sure to compliment her, and the way she smiles and giggles, makes my heart beat faster in my chest.
Today I discovered that I am out of sugar, so why don't I go to the new girl? She made cookies and other delicious stuff she is always happy to share with me, for sure she has sugar.
“Just a cup? Sure Sweetie, I will go grab it for you, make yourself comfortable.”
I shyly enter her house, the first thing that hits me is the smell, I think haven smell exactly like it, I can see she still has a few boxes, but all the essentials are displayed, a kindle, books, a lot of types of books, fantasy, biography, history, classics… she also has a few plants, no much decoration… Why is that hard profile her?
“Here you go, a cup of sugar to my sweet boy”
I asked her sugar a lot of other times after that, just to see her, to feel my blood run in my veins, the fast piece of my heart, the smell invading my nose, that warm feeling.
—----------------------------------------------------------------
“Hi, so, do you have plans for today?”
She was standing outside my door, smiling at me, eyes glowing. How can she always be so beautiful?
“No. I did not plan anything for today.”
“Great. What do you say about taking me to a coffee shop? Any coffee you do like to go. Wanna know more about my neighbor.”
“Hm… Yeah, sure. I will just grab my things”
We go to a nearby coffeehouse and order our drinks while we have small talk.
“I love those cloudy and rainy days, so calm…”
Our orders get to the table and she points out when I drink my full of sugar cup of coffee
“Someone really likes sugar.” She smiles and is like electricity running me. “I can't drink black coffee, it gives me an awful headache.”
“Actually. Caffeine withdrawal could be an important but often overlooked cause of headache.”
She nods in agreement.
“People say that I am just being silly or have an infant paladar. I have tried a lot of types of black coffee, but nothing worked. So i decided just to drink my milk coffee, tha latte”
“Caffeine or 1,3,7-trimethylxanthine is totally, actually 99% and rapidly absorbed; it reaches the highest plasma concentrations after 30-60 minutes of ingestion, but this duration can be shorter or longer due to the variation in gastric emptying time. The half-life of caffeine fluctuates between 2.5 and 4.5 hours in young individuals but can be longer in elderly. Caffeine can cross all biological membranes including blood-brain barrier because of its lipophilic character. Only a very small amount of caffeine is excreted in the urine. It is metabolized in the liver, mainly by the cytochrome P450 1A2, to paraxanthine, theobromine, theophylline, and further to urates. Caffeine acts on the brain and the heart by blocking adenosine receptors and inhibiting phosphodiesterase. It is considered the most common psychostimulant, it enhances concentration, improves mood and energy, induces wakefulness, and enhances exercise performance. It can also trigger anxiety, tachycardia, and hypertension. Caffeine is known to cause dependence and withdrawal symptoms such as fatigue and headache.”
Oh, no, no. She is going to think I am such a weirdo now. Couldn't I just keep my mouth shut? Things were good, where nice, and now I ruin it all.
“I have heard that coffee was addictive, but I didn’t know it was absorbed that fast, or that it didn't get expelled out of our body by urine like most of the other drinks. Maybe one of those things causes my headache every time I try to drink black coffee”
“Caffeine also narrows blood vessels that surround the brain. That is its link to headache. In some types of headaches, the blood vessels in the brain dilate, or swell. They expand into the surrounding tissues, which triggers pain.”
Why can’t I shut my mouth, she is lookin at me. She will avoid me like the plague. Why am I like that? Can’t have anything nice, ever! It is like I can’t stop, and she does not stop me, so I just keep rumbling.
“Headaches in general are a common problem for reproductive age women. Migraine headaches are 3 times more common in women than men in this age group with the difference believed to be the result of hormonal fluctuations. In women with spontaneous ovulatory cycles, headaches have been documented to occur more frequently immediately before and during the first few days of menses. Approximately half of women with migraine headaches report their occurrence associated with menstruation, with decreasing estradiol levels hypothesized as the etiologic factor. Today's low-dose oral contraceptives all contain the same estrogen component (ethinyl estradiol [EE]) but vary in the progestin component. Until recently, all progestins in OCs, the oral contraceptives (norethindrone, levonorgestrel, desogestrel, and norgestimate) were derivatives of 19-nortestosterone. A novel OC with the progestin drosperinone (DRSP) is not derived from 19-nortestosterone, but instead derived from spironolactone. This DRSP-containing OC has been shown in a large placebo-controlled trial to significantly improve the physical and behavioral symptoms of premenstrual syndrome (PMS) and premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) attributed to its unique antimineralocorticoid activity. This improvement in symptoms has been attributed to the antimineralocorticoid activity of the spironolactone-derived DRSP. Spironolactone is the only diuretic shown in randomized placebo-controlled trials to improve the behavioral and physical symptoms of PMS. While studies using validated instruments have shown improvement in PMS/PMDD with DRSP-containing OCs, headaches have not been specifically addressed.”
I managed to hold myself for a few seconds and she finally speaks something.
“Are you trying to mansplain my menstruation cycle to me?”
“No, no… that's not it, I was just…”
“It is ok, I believe you”
She smiles, how her chicks don’t hurt with how much she smiles? Why, how is her smile always so captive.
“Spironolactone. I didn’t know about the diuretic in the OCs. It is interesting to know that, I have noticed that when I drink more water my period of blood in the menstrual cycle feels less worse than normally does.”
She… she paid attention, and… interacted? My heart hammers as a symphony in my chest. It seems the whole word is more worm, as if I had been in the cold dark without releasing it until she showed up illuminating everything and involved me with a cozy blanket proofing there is more, what truly could my life be, how good could it be. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------
From that day, I knew I was different, happier, she became a constant thought, always making everything better, the world more supportable. I felt the butterflies, the tingling, that stupid and uncontrollable happiness, the craving of being in contact with her, the maximum and anyway I could. It just happened, little by little. With no rush, never.
“Hey, Kid.”
Morgan snaps his fingers in front of my eyes.
“Where did this pretty brain of yours was?”
The teasing again, but we hadn’t had time, JJ passed rushing calling for a case, urgent.
A/N: Did you guys like the dades I insert? I had to read a few articles, I have the links, they will be right below. Thanks for the support. If you like the little facts let me know so then maybe I will bring more (cause in my opinion is a very Spencer Reid thing to do, talk about the facts.)
Links:
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1663116/
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1051227621000339
https://www.uclahealth.org/news/caffeine-connection-between-coffee-and-headaches#:~:text=Caffeine%20also%20narrows%20blood%20vessels,surrounding%20tissues%2C%20which%20triggers%20pain.
https://headachejournal.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/j.1526-4610.2007.00650.x
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Fic masterlist | Masterlist
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Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 4
Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You vow yourself to confinement. You will not leave your desk for any reason. You even brought a thermos of coffee. The container is a honey brown and the lid has bear ears, an animated face painted on the metal. It makes you smile despite the gloom that clouds you.
You don’t know how it happens. You always mean well but things always end up so wrong. So you’ve determined you’re better off on your own. Minding your own business and getting through the work day without calamity.
It’s lonely. You eat your lunch in your cubicle, watching a crochet video on the small screen of your phone. You still can’t figure out how to get just the right shape for the hippo you’ve been working on. It’s the final piece in your collection; to go along with the giraffe, the elephant, lion, and zebra. With your new job, you haven’t even had the energy to try.
You get back to work, eyes fuzzy as you stare at the spreadsheet. Millennia of human existence and for what? For excel and stale coffee? Is this really progress?
You reign in your wandering mind and work through the numbers. You just want to get through your first week. That will be a feat you can be proud of. You drain the last lukewarm sip from your thermos and pout. You could really use a refill but you will resist. You can’t risk it.
At the end of the day, you sneak out down the stairwell. You’re breathless by the time you reach the bottom, dizzy from the winding levels above. You shake it off and head off. You could use a nice hot bath, those office chairs are really not comfy.
Your night goes by as any does. You get your bath and eat some ramen before tucking into bed and mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You fall asleep with the light on and wake up to the blare of your alarm the next morning. 
It’s Friday! You get up and get dressed. A lilac skirt that buttons up the front and a frilly white blouse on top. You pull on a lemon yellow cardigan and a pair of matching flats. It’s bright and fun! Unlike anything else in that gray office.
You shove one of the pillows from the couch into your bag, the one that looks like a sprinkle donut, and grab your thermos. You race out to catch the bus and throw yourself into the day ahead. You just need to make it to the end and you have the whole weekend ahead of you.
Once at your cubicle, you settle in. You place the donut pillow on the thin cushion of the office chair and kneel on the floor as you work at readjusting the backrest and arms. You get up and plop down, testing the height and swiveling a bit. It’s slightly better.
You roll closer to your desk and boot up for the day. You reach for your pen cup but stop short as you find only the boring Bic sticks that overflow the supply cupboards. Huh?
You reach under your desk and grab your bag. You stir around, certain you careless slid your pen in there. You can’t find it! Your most favourite pen is gone. There’s a tiny penguin at the end and the pen’s body is filled with water and glitter that shimmers and looks like falling snow. Where is it?
Your panic has you searching the empty drawers of the desk and down on your knees crawling around. You don’t find it. You give up as your chest sinks and you mope at your monitor, clicking mindlessly on your Outlook and the company’s shared drive. 
You sit back and uncap your thermos. You take a drink and nearly choke. Oh no! It’s so bitter it leaves your tongue gritty. The filter must’ve split in the machine again. You let out a blech and get up, letting your chair roll back carelessly.
You go down to the break room and dump the coffee down the sink. That’s when you remember you’re not supposed to be in there. Shoot. You look around. It’s empty. You should have time enough to fill your cup.
You go to the machine and pick a pod from the rack. You don’t pay attention to the flavour, you just want coffee. You wait for the machine to grind and claim your cup as the brew stops below the brim. You quickly retreat back to your desk and sit, leaving the lid off the thermos to let it cool.
Ow! Your tailbone hits the thin seat and jars your spine. You get up and look down at the barren cushion. Your pillow is gone. What the heck?
You roll the chair around, thinking maybe you knocked it off when you stood up. It’s not that hard to miss. Nope, it’s gone. 
You look over at Dana as he yawns over a Starbucks cup. She has no donut under her bottom. Who would do that? Who would steal your pillow? You chew your lip and resign yourself to another day of discomfort.
You taste the coffee. Mmm, it must be the dark roast. It’s full-bodied and rich, slightly smoky. You don’t usually go for it, you prefer more caffeine. It might be good for you, you really don’t need the extra jitter.
You plant your elbow beside your keyboard and fall into your work. The office awakens around you. The clack of keys, the clicking of mice, and the low voices that rise and fall over cubicle walls. 
You lean back and check the time. Barely an hour in. You stretch your neck and massage your shoulders as you try to work out the kink of your poor posture. As you do, you sense a shadow approach Dana’s desk. You shift your chair and peek over, quickly wheeling back to your desk to hunch down and hide. It’s him.
“Phillips,” he calls her by her last name, “you still in charge of supplies?”
“Morning, Curtis,” she replies tritely, “what is it? We don’t have budget left for tech upgrades until end of month.”
“Coffee,” he growls, “dark roast.”
You tap your foot nervously. You didn’t know he liked the dark roast. If you did, you wouldn’t have taken the last pod. Maybe you should offer him what you have left… no, you should just leave him be.
“I’ll add it to the list,” Dana acquisces dismissively, “anything else?”
He grunts but doesn’t answer as he pivots on his heel. You peek up above the wall of your cubicle and immediately regret it. His attention is drawn by the movement and his eyes meet yours as his features twist into a scowl. You try to smile and he rolls his eyes before setting his shoulders and striding away.
Oh, you have an idea!
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relaxxattack · 11 months
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ok yeah lots of memes about how the shitty new UI is literally a direct carbon copy of twitter and we hate it because of that, yea yea
here’s some actual/extra reasons why the UI itself is shitty beyond the fact that it’s stolen from twitter (in just my personal opinion)
it’s claustrophobic as hell. the old UI felt breathable, felt like you could scroll and actually look at your posts, and now there’s enough shit going on on one page that it actually gives me a headache. (i’ve heard other people say this as well, so maybe it’s not just me that’s overstimulated by all the fucking noise on the dash?)
the ‘dash sorting’ (for you / your tags / what you missed) is way too high up the page now and appears crowded against the top where things like the bookmarks bar are on most browsers. not that anything in this new UI isn’t crowded.
i’ve seen it mentioned plenty already, but there’s quite a lot of unnecessary duplication-- as in, the same buttons that exist in the new left navigation panel show up on the right in blog view, which is just completely annoying and unneeded clutter.
the fact that post interaction options are all on the right side of the posts, but dashboard navigation is now all pushed to the far left of display, is extremely annoying. i’m right-handed, so it’s extra annoying for me to have to constantly go all the way over there. maybe that’s easier for left-handed people, but if the case was supporting diversity, why not just put an option in dashboard preferences to switch the side of ALL the controls? because the post interactions are still on the right.
while we’re on the subject-- tumblr’s original design was actually MUCH more intuitive and easy to navigate. the reason for this is that everything you needed to click was in one small area. you scroll up and down the dash, move slightly up to navigate (home/asks/notifications) and slightly down to the side to interact with a post (reblog/reply). extremely simple, easy to use, even ‘lazy + addicting’, which is what all social media studio exes are supposed to want right now. changing the ui to actually be more work and more frustrating to navigate seems completely opposed to what their obvious business strategy should be.
tumblr’s original design was also much more breathable, with the small icons in the corner looking organized and not taking up much space, and lots of room for the posts themselves to be the main attraction.
there’s the fact that copying someone else’s brand entirely actually just puts you in a bigger, wider pool with much more competition, and makes you much more likely to immediately fall short of that and go bankrupt.
tumblr's original purpose was to be geared toward blogs, and these updates, along with the writing on the wall about blog themes being completely phased out soon, is completely against the original purpose. although sometimes website purposes change for the better, so take that as you will.
and finally the obvious point that you can tell from all the memes: this change is almost universally hated by the core tumblr userbase-- aka the site’s loyal consumers for years and years. driving out their main demographic seems like a very obvious, very quick way to lose a lot of fucking money. they also did this “carbon copy of twitter” update literally just a week after sitewide protest about the idea of this site being anything like twitter, so it feels like a massive Fuck You to literally all of the users. tumblr is rapidly approaching their trust thermocline, and show no sign of slowing down.
these are just my opinions about the ui, and i’m only one person. so feel free to add on other design flaws you think people should be aware of or able to mention! i will probably also be submitting this post as feedback to staff, and will be taking their surveys when i can as well.
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dimepdf · 11 months
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★  𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝟓𝟎𝟓. + 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑
masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. jealousy is a terrible disease, and you and Eren are both suffering from a severe case of it.
✧. ┊    notes. back on the eren d rider train I need more fics of him BAD like there is a shortage of bad bitches that write for eren on my feed and I need that to be fixed real soon. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍
✧. ┊    word count. 3.2k (23 min read).
✧. ┊    genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | slight eren/mikasa in the beginning | (fr)enemies | established relationship | hurt/comfort | miscommunication | misunderstandings | sexual tension | jealousy | post-break up | make up sex | porn with feelings | grinding | fingering | unprotected sex | cowgirl | riding | hair pulling | we ignore typos here | title inspired by this song.
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EREN WAS CONVINCED you were batshit crazy, that would be the only reason why your brain would always find some new reason to push him away enough to have him chase after you like you had a pretty pink leash around his neck hooked to a collar with his name on it. 
You would always manage to push his buttons just enough to tip him off, and in return, you weren’t the type to just sit back and let some man yell at you cause he certainly was not your father nor your mother.
The arguments you two would be involved in usually led to very amazing angry sex, clearing out a grace period enough to last until the next time you chose to push his buttons.
Well, this time it was different—at least that was your claimed reasoning for telling your friends why you and Eren were on another one of your famous relationship breaks. 
This one happened so fast that Eren wasn’t even sure what the hell he was talking about until you stormed out of his apartment and blocked his number for an entire week, holding onto the smallest things that reminded him of your existence. 
Wincing every time he would see your post on your Instagram story all dressed up and going out with your friends looking so unfazed. Maybe this time it actually was different, and the thought of that scared the absolute shit out of Eren. The heavy feeling of the thought of you losing you left with him a constantly collapsing moping pit forming in his stomach.
It was settled between his friends that they wouldn't let him mope around his place alone any longer, tired of hearing and depressed, mentioning your name on his lips, convincing him enough to coax him out of his apartment littered with reminders of you to hang out at some house party.
What those said friends failed to mention was that you would be there as well, with about seventy people scattered from the front yard to the pool in the back with music raging so loud he could feel the vibration from where he sat lounging watching you from his seat on the back porch.
He was supposed to be having a good time, getting messed up enough to not remember your name. Yet there he was, sitting slouched a few feet away from you, his heart on his sleeve. 
A blunt caught between his lips, minding his business as best as he possibly could, but it was just so hard to believe that he could hear the familiar pitch of your laughter filtered through the music.
"Dude," Connie sighs, interrupting Eren’s growing annoyance, his attention yanking away from where you stood, hugging up a little too closely for comfort to the smirking Armin. 
Eren hands the blunt over with a groan, his legs spreading comfortably and shifting back to lean with his back against the patio chair.
With his head resting on the headrest pillow, he closes his eyes tightly, praying for his high to hit him like a truck so fucking soon, wishing for just one night where he wouldn't have to deal with his annoying emotions for you. "Shit, my bad man, I didn't even know that she would be here." 
Connie rests his hand on Eren’s shoulder, helping ground him back down to earth. "But hey, are you gonna be alright?" The question lingered in the stale air before Eren could process the rigid tone behind it, his eyes fluttering open to Connie eyeing down someone from across the yard with a knowing horny spark in his eye, knowing that his friend was a natural-born player and that it would be just so unfair to hold him back from his natural element.
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead, man, I’ll be here." forcing a tight grin from his lips, Eren’s hand waving away his friend with a coaxing hand. "All alone.." he sighed under his breath once Connie had finally stalked away, leaving the dark-haired brunette to sit with his own flooding thoughts.
The sight in front of him making him feel as if he was witnessing a kamikaze from just a few steps away from how hard his heart was throbbing watching you completely ignore his existence as if you weren't just sprouting I love yous and kissing all over each other not even a few weeks ago.
He needs to move to get you out of his sight before the swallowing feeling can take up his entire mood and ruin his high. Stumbling around the large crowd of people, he parted through the crowd, finding the unknown kitchen counter that was decorated with enticingly labeled cheap liquor bottles and mixers that were calling his name. 
He hadn't even managed to get one cup down before the slush of his drink was met with the white of his graphic t-shirt, a curse hidden under his breath turning ready to spit the first insult on his mind he could spout from the large cloud of frustration festering from his annoyance only to be cut off. 
"Oh shit, I'm so sorry, dude." His attacker was a very apologetic and cute woman, with short dark hair, warm olive skin, and a very bold red bra peeking through the white cropped cami she wore, catching his attention embarrassingly quick enough for him to forget that it was better to actually make eye contact when speaking to another person.
His first initial words were punched back into his throat, a lazy smile taking their place instead. "It's already, uh, the drink tasted like shit anyways." He nervously chuckled, like he couldn't really help the nervousness that waved over him standing in the presence of a pretty girl who had introduced herself quite cheerily as Mikasa. 
If you had told him a few hours ago when he first arrived that he would actually be having fun, let alone sitting with some random girl in his lap, Eren would have called you crazy, yet there he was genuinely grinning ear to ear face to face with Mikasa, who had made it her personal mission to make Eren have a much better night than he was. 
The two getting awfully close in such a short span of time, sitting down clinging onto each other, sprouting out about absolutely nothing important but the genuine want to talk to each other, not to mention that It helps that Eren absolutely finds her stunning, their bodies sharing warmth sitting so close, it was only natural for the flushed feeling to take over with the rake of her nails tangling in his shaggy mullet.
He couldn't even use drinking as an excuse, babysitting the same drink she had remade for him as an apology for spilling the last one. There was really no real reason why he had suddenly leaned in and caught his lips against hers so hungrily. 
It doesn't help that Mikasa kisses him back with the same amount of eager roughness, practically straddling him on top of his lap at this point, the two heavily making out in the open.
With hands wandering, Eren reaches out a hold around her hips, his mind betraying him just a bit, not being able to fully push away the comparison to your figure. The thought makes him react with a wince, parting from the kiss with his tongue dragging over his parted lips.
Mikasa leans back, pushing his hair from his face while letting out a breathy fit of giggles, not discovering the hidden uncomfortable shift in Eren’s behavior. It wasn't her fault, he couldn't blame the girl for him being so caught up with his ex to the point where even when he was kissing other women, he couldn't help but get his mind off of you.
"If you want, we could go upstairs." Mikasa whispers in his ear, leading a shiver up his spine with a flash of sexual excitement. He is pleased at the end of her offer, locked in with the peck of her lips against his jawline.
The offer is absolutely knee-jerking, and if it were any other situation, Eren probably would have let this really pretty girl he just met jump his bone, but all the confidence that had been built up from the night had instantly drained the second he had caught your gaze from across the room. 
Both staring at each other pointedly, Eren’s lashes fluttered under your unflinched, hard glare as Mikasa continued to litter kisses with the promises of hickeys around his collarbone.
He wanted to feel so smug, wanted to use the new attention as a way to finally get back at you for making him feel the way that he felt watching you dance with Armin, but the revenge just didn't feel right, and his mood soured further at the thought of using some poor innocent girl to get back at you.
The intense eye contact is cut off by Mikasa bringing her face closer to his, seeking out another kiss. Eren squeezes his eyes closed, wanting nothing more but to get the looping image of you and Armin out of his damned head.
"What do you say?" being reminded in a soft whisper of the intimate question still in the air from earlier, the creep of her fingers dawning down his chest and rubbing with intention at the crotch of his jeans, Eren grabbing her wandering hand before it could do any more active damage.
"Maybe...maybe we shouldn’t right now," Eren sheepishly responds, his eyes searching for any ounce of rejection on her features,trying to shake the sight of you from his attention.
Mikasa doesn't seem all that hurt, if anything, she nods her head in understanding, taking no for an answer without another word, pulling her hands away and wrapping them around his shoulders instead, her head turning enough to show that she knows his attention is entirely too spent on someone else.
"What a player," she chuckles knowingly, not quite catching a glance at you, yet her eyes still scan around the room. "Something tells me I should go get another drink before whoever you're looking for comes and bites off my head." And just like that, Eren's perfect distraction slips through his fingers, and he's left alone once more, kicked back with the same emotions he had coming into the party.
His attention is rudely pulled back towards you as you appear in front of him. It was like you were hunting, searching for the perfect moment when he had his guard down to strike.
You placed your hand on your hips as he dared to stare up at you through his lashes, his body too at ease with the disappointed expression twisted on your face. "Are you fucking drunk right now?"
"Well, is this not a party?" Eren replies almost too easily, his tone has deepened enough to get a shifted, sneering reaction from you at the snappy comeback. Watching your movements a bit too intensely as your arms crossed over your chest, Eren didn't bother to look away from how plump your breasts looked in the pretty little crop top you managed to squeeze them into.
"I was going to ask if you wanted a ride home since I saw Connie dip with someone, but excuse me, I see that you're too busy tongue-fucking any random slut willing to give it out tonight, huh?" Your insults dig deep, even with the drooling sight of your tight-skirted figure dancing right in front of him. Eren sucked in a breath at the acknowledgement.
"You broke up with me." He spoke straight to your thighs, his tongue tracing over the bottom of his lip now that he could see just how good you looked tonight. All dressed up with your makeup done, his heart didn't want to imagine what you were hoping to get into if his presence wasn't there to ruin the mood. "Remember?"
"Fine, walk your ass home." Rolling your eyes and storming away, knowing that he was in the right, Eren let out a sigh before sleazily trailing behind your grumbling every step.
Watching the sway of your hips as you walk in front of him all the way to your car, slumping into the passenger side without any word even as you continued to have a one-sided conversation about how much of an asshole he was for not saying bye to his little girlfriend he was kissing on even though Eren was pretty sure Mikasa would be more understanding than what you were giving her credit for. 
The drive home is tense, the soft pitter of rain hitting the windshield wipers as the streetlights leech orange and white colors through your tinted windows. The radio played lowly, not loud enough to recognize the soft melody of something playing but not quite low enough to have you both sitting in complete silence.
"Are you guys talking?" Eren’s voice is still deep, almost cushioning from how gently he posed the question, almost as if he were so loud that he would be afraid to scare you away.
Your fingers clench around the leather of the wheel, eyes glancing away from the road for just a split second to give him a knitted-brow look. "What, who are you talking about?"
Eren feels like he’s back in middle school again, fidgeting with the bottom hem of his shirt, all nervous around you. "You and Armin, you guys looked pretty close at the party." He could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue, his head leaning back on the headrest, looking how desperate he had to look, practically pining over you with his broken-hearted expression.
"I should ask the same for you then." You ignore him, reaching to dial the music just a bit louder, not wanting to sit in silence if it meant opening up a question and answer panel between just him and you. 
The statement hurts, both physically and emotionally. Eren gets reminded of the pit still forming in his stomach.
The frowning emotion threatening a knot in his throat, having to swallow down the absolute word vomit of apologizes and begging he has threatened to spill from his throat in your honor, "Well, I’ve missed you." Was all that he could manage before he had to physically turn himself away from you, using the pressing cold glass to help aid the burning firepit of emotions he had covering the rest of his reasonability in dark, thick sud.
You didn't react, at least not in line of sight, even if you heard him, you hadn’t shown any acknowledgement of his heartbreaking confession. Not even when you pulled into his driveway had you bothered to give him a glance other than the action of you sliding off your seatbelt and letting him sit in the car for a breath before he was trialing after you once more.
Trudging through his apartment, even with you inside the home walls, you still felt a sense of lonesomeness. "Ren…" 
"Do you wanna come to bed?" Your voice sounds through the halls, following back to his bedroom, the door left ajar enough to see you lying in the place right where he had thought you belonged, blankets lifted open, enticing him to lie down next to you with a sobering small smile.
Crawling under the blankets right next to you without another word, cuddling against your chest, wrapping his arms around the front of your torso, and hugging close enough for you to lean with your back resting against the mattress as his face rubbed against the plush of your falling and rising cushioning breast.
"I’ve…missed you too." You lowly admit, using your acrylics to softly comb through the back of his hair, easing back his tension farther with a small kiss pecked on the top of his forehead.
The sound of the blanket shifting as it carries with Eren’s movements, his arms ankling at both sides of your head, holding himself up from pressing you with his entire body weight as he slots himself between your part legs.
Your fingers twining tighter into his scalp as he leans down for a kiss, the muffle of his moan pressing against your seeking lips, letting you slip your tongue inside of his mouth, adding to the rising heated makeout session.
The pace never lets up, growing with more eagerness. Eren frees one of his arms, letting his hands wander down, squeezing your thigh part by the bend of the knee, and having your skirt ride up unwearable to your waist.
Knuckling aside the lace of your panties away from your pussy, he used the pad of his thumb to tease at your clit only adding sinking two digits into the equation. Your cunt welcomed them with a greedy buck at the buck of your hips against his touch, kicking off his jeans awkwardly.
Eren is already sweating from the grouling press of his hard cock miserably untouched against your thigh, grinding shamelessly against your leg while his fingers pistoned with a lewd wet squelch from your coated arousal inside of you.
Pausing only when your fist tugs with a knot full of his hair tangled between your knuckles, your other hands push him away by the press of your palm against his chest.
Switching positions with Eren almost a little too obentaintly with you sitting straddled on his lap in an all too familiar position, you look angelic on top of him with your hair dawning over your face knocking out of his daze with a hiss at the slow teasing feeling of your fingers wrapping around the length of his cock and pressing his tip at the folds of your entrance. 
"I’ve missed you." The soft brush of your coo fans against his face from how close you were, and with your noses brushing, you both react breathlessly to the feeling of you lowering yourself down on his cock. The thrusting clench of his hips living up from the mattress and intruding deeper inside of you left him whimpering under your touch. "I’ve missed you so, so much, Ren."
The pace of your bouncing hips is relentless, starting at your own brutal pace and grounding yourself with heavy palms pressed against his chest.
Eren couldn't do anything but lie back and whine against your mouth, as you used him for your own release from the mental war he had to not end the fun for which he had been craving all week. Whimpering at the amazing feeling he missed so badly at your pussy squeezing against him so snuggly as if your body had just been made for him so perfectly. 
Eren’s hands help guide the grind of your hips as your muscles tense and tremble on top of him suddenly, your body going rigid, hugging your collapsed body against his hold, begging a string of nonsense as your cunt continues to milk him until his very last drop.
His hips don't bother halting, switch positions as he lays on top to help with his lazy, slow strokes, listening to your soft whines as you hug him closer to you, wrapping your trembling legs against his hips and pulling him as deep as you possibly could.
“I missed you too baby.”
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lovinglylibelle · 2 months
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
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-navigation || masterlist-
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pairing: fushiguro megumi x reader
genre: fluff
description: Megumi has always been curious about love, having never experienced it himself. So what happens when he meets someone from his past that might just be the key to changing all that.
requests: open
a/n: this is has been on my mind for a while and i tried sooo many times to write this, but it somehow wasn't giving the vibe i wanted it to give. However, writing it this time was better and i like how it turned out, may have gotten carried away down there but eh (is it obvious that i am absolutely enamored by Megs?) If you like it, please press that cute little heart in the bottom right corner and that reblog button just next to it. If you want more such fics, you can also drop a follow and i promise not to disappoint. Have a happy day ahead, keep yourself hydrated and well fed. Thank you
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"Ya Itadori, do you think it will rain?" Kugisaki asked, shielding her eyes as she looked up at the sky. It was the beginning of Japan's rainy season and it seemed like Tokyo was about to welcome it too.
It was getting darker by the second as more and more clouds gathered, blocking out the rays of the sun and from the looks of it, the sky was ready to let down the first rain.
"It's definitely going to rain," Itadori replied. According to the duo, he had some sort of sensor in him that allowed him to predict the weather... keeping aside the fact that it was already visible.
Megumi sighed as he watched the two sorcerers, now trying to climb the lamp post in order to get a clearer view, wondering how he managed to get himself surrounded by them. Not that he minded it. He had gotten used to it.
The three were standing outside a movie theatre, waiting for the movie to screen. Kugisaki and Itadori had insisted upon watching the latest romance movie, the same old story about love.
Fushiguro Megumi didn't know a thing about love and it really wasn't a surprise. To him it was just a myth, a fool's errand that the world seemed to chase for reasons unbeknownst to him.
He didn't get it, truly, the concept of it foreign to him but he wasn't the one to blame for it. He didn't exactly have the chance to experience it: his parents abandoned him, his sister was in a magic coma, and his 'relatives' wanted to exploit him... the only thing close to love, affection, and warmth he had ever known, not that he would ever admit it to him or anyone, was the chaotic white haired man child known as Gojo Satoru, and the two idiots who seemed to have taken it upon themselves to be the bane of his existence. However, that was all platonic anyway.
Romantic love was something he had only read about in the various novels and mangas: that were neatly stacked in his dorm, or watched in movies like these, and yet they weren't enough to make him believe in the notion.
It felt fictional to him, a love that transcends all barriers, a love that makes one do irrational things, a love that is unconditional... the idea was too far fetched. Everybody wanted something in the world, he knew that, he experienced that on an everyday basis. And everybody was selfish when it came down to it, so something as selfless as love was odd for him, odder than the existence of curses and magic.
However, he did wonder what it felt like, to be in love and to feel that feeling that all these things portrayed. Will he ever feel that? it was a question that made him ponder sometimes. He wouldn't mind it if he did and wouldn't mind it if he didn't either.
This reverie of his might have been neverending if it wasn't for the loud shout that Kugisaki had let out. "Fushiguro, it's open!"
He nodded, making his way towards them but stopping short after feeling a strong and familiar cursed energy.
"Huh?" he questioned, his eyes narrowing as he scanned his surroundings. A nostalgic emotion making its way to his heart. What was it-
thud, he felt someone bump into him, making him stumble slightly before he caught himself.
Looking up, he noticed the culprit and was ready to give them a terrible look but as soon as his eyes met yours, his entire world seemed to have slowed down to a halt.
There you were turning around to face him as your hair cascaded around you, framing you delicately like the buds do the petals. Your eyes were wide with evident shock that was etched onto your face oh so sweetly. Your lips parting slightly as it finally began to rain... the first of its season.
The air around you seemed to shimmer and Megumi could have sworn that he had never seen anybody look as beautiful as you did in that moment.
"Oh my god, shit, i am so sorry." you said hurriedly, a shocked expression on your face. You kept a hand above your eyes to be able to see.
Megumi couldn't even breathe much less talk or comprehend whatever you were saying as he noticed the feeling from earlier creeping in again. He squinted at you, running a hand through his hair that was now soaked and sticking to his forehead.
As he took in your features, the feeling started to bloom into something more, recognition.
You had the same aura around you, as you did all those years ago, of comfort and safety that once was Megumi's only solace. Your clumsiness was intact too, barely taking a few steps before crashing into things as he recalled. Your hair was longer though and somehow it looked even more perfect than what he had remembered... And your eyes, oh your eyes, they were the dead give away.
They had that same glint in them, the same warmth and insatiable curiosity that always left him in awe. Even now they seemed to hold the entire universe in them and sparkle like a million stars resided in them.
"Y/n..?" he whispered, loud enough for you to hear over the rain and soft enough to not break the moment.
"What? How do you know my nam-" you replied, confused beyond your belief when a flicker of understanding crossed your mind and you lit up with the same feeling of recognition.
"Meg- Fushiguro? No way..." you chuckled incredelously, disbelief on your face.
"Hello to you too, Y/n" he said, a smile on his face. It was genuine, the smile, just like it used to be all those years ago when you two spent time together.
To Kugisaki and Itadori who were watching it all unfold from afar, it was truly a rare sight; to see the alleged sea urchin, make that face and that too in a serious way.
"It's been so long Fushiguro, you've not changed a bit." you said, tucking your hair behind your ear as you smiled back at him. The more Megumi observed you, the more aware he became of his surroundings. He felt his cheeks growing warm despite the cold rain that was falling relentlessly around him.
"well my teeth grew back," he joked, earning a soft laugh from you and a gasp of disbelief from the other two, who exchanged a look. At the sound of your laugh, Megumi felt his heartbeat pick up, he couldn't comprehend what was happening to him. It was the first time ever that he had felt all those things, was it the weather? was it the rain? was he getting sick? what was happening to him? was he okay?
"that they did... makes you less cute though." you commented, making him nod his head and his friends face-palm themselves.
If they had been standing closer to you, Kugisaki would have smacked the oblivious guy's head right in that instance but due to the distance she couldn't.
"So you are back?" Fushiguro asked as the two of you started walking, the rain almost forgotten now.
"Yeah, Gojo Sensei had insisted on it and well i did miss everything here, especially you." you said, a hopeful look in your eyes as they met his.
I missed you too, he had wanted to say but decided against it.
"So what brings you here?" he said instead, his hands in his pockets.
He was looking down on the street, various puddles forming due to the water. He stepped in one, watching it splash against his feet.
"Believe it or not, it's a mission. There is a cursed spirit right around the corner there, caused a few suicides over the week." you said pointing at the alley behind the theatre.
"Speaking of, i can feel it manifesting again." you added, stopping in your tracks.
"They already got you going huh? You should go and exorcise it, we can talk later." he said, stopping to face you. He didnt want to stop talking just yet but he knew that the exorcism was more important.
"Alright, see you back at the dorms?"
He nodded in reply,
"It really is nice to see you again Fushiguro, i'll see you later." you said, taking off towards the alley with your hands clasped behind your back.
Fushiguro watched you walk away and felt himself coming to his senses again, he could now feel every raindrop on himself that had seemingly disappeared when he was talking to you. He realised that he was soaked, his hair sticking to his face, his hands cold and clammy and yet he didn't mind it at all,
He was so lost in watching you walk away that he didn't realise when Kugisaki and Itadori had joined him.
"So... who was that?" she said, holding the umbrella that somehow magically appeared in her hand. Her eyes narrowing at Megumi.
"A friend,"
"Just, a friend?"
"Yeah, just a friend."
"Sureeee, you made us miss half the movie though."
"But it's just been ten minutes Kugisaki-" Itadori interrupted,
"Yeah yeah i know, i am exaggerating. Come on now and quit staring, you look like a creep for fuck's sake." she called out, making her way towards the entrance of the theatre.
"Shut up." Megumi replied, shaking his head but looking away too.
He was elated to see you again and was even looking forward to meeting you back at the school and introducing you to his new friends.
"For the record, I don't believe that she was just a friend." Kugisaki added as she sat on her seat inside the theatre. Megumi who was now dry, thanks to his shikigami, sat down next to her with a sigh.
He avoided her gaze as he replied, "I don't care."
He was glad that the cinema was dark enough to hide his face when he said that because despite everything, a small smile had found its way on his lips which he really did not want Kugisaki or Itadori to see or they wouldn't let him hear the end of it.
His eyes focused on the movie in front of him, a romance movie, about love and somewhere in his heart and beyond his consciousness, he knew that he had found the answer to most of the questions he had as he thought back to the encounter he just had with you.
He really was looking forward to seeing you again.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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Hiiii 🤭💗
Quick request for the little Rick and Darly edging reader thingy we talked about? 🥺💗
Love you sweetie 👉🏼👈🏼💗
hey baby! I hope you like it, and I apologise for the lack of details, I love you.
summary - rick and daryl kidnap you on a run, deciding to edge you for no reason.
warning - smut, edging, dubcon, dark, overstimulation, kidnapping.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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Everything had happened so fast. One minute, you were scavenging for food in a local grocery store, and the next, you woke tied to a chair, waking to two very handsome men standing before you. You couldn’t ignore the throbbing between your legs. How could they exist? You completely forgot about the fact that they had practically kidnapped you and tied you to a chair. 
“Well. Look who’s finally up.” Daryl grumbles, alerting Rick and causing him to come over and kneel in front of you. Your cunt throbs as your eyes connect with his pretty blue ones. 
“Great to see that you’re finally awake, darlin’. You know, you shouldn’t be wandering around all alone. It’s not safe.” Rick smirks and your eyes flicker down to a tiny remote being held between his hands, and you slowly look back up, finding him staring at you, smirking. “Are you curious about this little thing? Hmm?” You bite your bottom lip, holding back a whimper as you nod, squeezing your thighs together before noticing something weird trapped between them.
“Why even explain it to a dumb girl like her? Just turn the damn thing on already.” Daryl grunts, coming closer and yanking the remote from Rick’s hands, turning the device on before chucking it back, leaning against the wall with a smirk as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, a shocked moan falling from your lips. “See, wasn’t that hard.”
Rick rolls his eyes but grins as you squirm, clutching the arms of the chair, rocking your hips back and forth. “I did want to drag the beginning out, but Daryl obviously didn’t.” Rick looks back at the man before turning to you. His eyes watch as your back arches, and you whine loudly, feeling your core tighten and your swollen clit throb. A sob escapes you as Rick presses another button, and the vibrations suddenly stop. Daryl chuckles as Rick pouts. “Aww, is the little slut desperate to cum?” You nod, and your tears roll down as you cry. 
You continue to be edged, brought so close to the end, before the vibrations stop. You stare at the men, begging for them to finally give in. Your vision has become so blurry you no longer know who has the remote. All you can feel is the pulses against your clit, driving you insane. “P–please, please let me cum!” Your hair sticks to your forehead, your head is thrown back into the chair, and your hips lift, trying to escape the toy, but no matter what you do, you can’t.
Daryl and Rick look at each other with a smirk before they both up the vibrations, putting it on the highest level and sit back to watch you cum apart, your juices squirt out of you as you scream. Your vision goes back as you black out. Rick and Daryl untie you and lift your body, deciding you deserve to be with them.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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