Just looked at a blog where the header description said 'sometimes I reblog posts I like so I don't forget them'.
And I feel like that, right there, explains so much about how the site has changed in the last few months.
People now think reblogging is an unusual behaviour, rather than a default.
Tumblr newbies, please, for the love of baby Jesus, reblog the posts you like. That is the whole reason the site exists - for you to collect all your shiny fandom objects in a single space. Which you can organize to your heart's content. Or not organize at all, if that's your jam.
Our blogs are intended to be collections of posts, not collections of likes.
Liking does absolutely nothing. There is no algorithm like on IG that will use likes to throw content at people. If you don’t reblog, then no one who doesn’t follow that person (or happen to find it in the tags) will see that post.
Tumblr is supposed to be your bookcase where you show off all of your pretties: the posts you like and the ones that you want to promote to support the other creators in your fandom/community.
i think satoru would be the kind of dad who smugly lets his little girl watch scary movies behind your back — thinking it’s all harmless fun and that she can totally handle it just like her old man. but of course he instantly regrets it when she comes crashing into your shared room in the dead of night eyes wide with fear dragging her blanket and stuffed animal and demanding to sleep between you two. and it just so happens to be during a particularly… inopportune moment. now she’s squished between you both snoring away while he’s lying there cockblocked by his dearest daughter and on top of that getting the silent treatment from his dearest wife and thinking yeah… maybe he should’ve listened to you
fictional character: [exists]
me: okay but what's their relationship with their mother though. and when did they last cry. and what would break them completely. I need to know for ..... reasons.
Anyhow currently musing about asking your fave for a little peck or a smooch but they get cute aggression so bad that they devour you with kisses until you're gasping for air
Art References in Jujutsu Kaisen s3 opening: The Kiss - Gustav Klimt // The Scream - Edvard Munch // Ophelia - John Everett Millais // Dead mother l - Egon Schiele // Two Sleeping Children - Peter Paul Rubens // Camille Monet and a Child in the Artist's Garden in Argenteuil - Claude Monet
pairing: miguel o'hara x reader
cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO)
wc: 1k +
a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.
---
Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before.
Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina.
To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.
You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish.
Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision.
It’s a mess in the end.
You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you.
He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously.
Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again.
He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”
It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier.
Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!
After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it.
You can still have fun without the mess.
…right?
—
Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it.
He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs.
Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home.
You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust.
Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear?
“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that.
“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest.
“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”
“...We could…”
“Miguel!”
“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”
“But it’s too messy.”
“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”
“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”
“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit.
“Miguel.” You whine.
It’s so hard to deny this man.
“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance.
“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.
