Reblog this if you support sex-averse and sex-repulsed aces, including:
Aces who never want to have sex
Aces who had sex in the past but don't desire it anymore
Aces with sexual trauma who feel like their trauma ties into their asexuality
Aces with sexual trauma who don't feel like their trauma caused their asexuality
Aces who don't want to talk to you about sex
Aces who don't want to hear about sex
Yes even aces who do not want to engage with any sexual content and don't want it in their own personal spaces
Yes even aces who express the desire to have more spaces for queer adults where their boundaries are met (on top of the queer spaces that exist, we do not want to sanitize your existing spaces ffs)
If you cannot be normal about these people existing, if you believe they're a threat to our community and to how we're viewed by people who aren't aspec and the rest of the LGBTQ+ community, you are not an asexual ally. Yes, even if you're aspec yourself. Especially if you're aspec yourself.
Because it's been pride month for 4 days and I'm already seeing people trying to throw us under the bus or pretend we don't exist because that makes the ace community more palatable to exclusionists and people who swallowed too much "aces are puritans" propaganda.
Begging people to stop reblogging this AI trash from “The Phantom Painter” on Instagram (instagram.com/phantom.painting). I’ve been seeing it on my dash more and more often from people who are otherwise anti-AI and either can’t tell it’s AI or don’t care because it looks cool.
This is the kind of shit that is VERY CLEARLY trained on the works of existing talented artists’ with distinct styles and this asshole is selling prints and making a profit off of stealing other people’s hard work.
Don’t give people like this money or attention and they will go away.
Please, if you’re going to buy art prints, buy them from an actual artist.
@thegnat That’s the problem, it’s getting really hard to tell what’s AI and what isn’t. This phantom painter person at least says on each post on Instagram that it was created with AI, but when people re-post it on tumblr, it isn’t specified, and people end up reblogging it.
It’s not reasonable to think everyone should be vetting every single art they reblog to make sure it isn’t AI, which is why I made this post to let people know this artist specifically is AI, and I see it reblogged a ton.
That last one is for the people saying “you can always tell by the hands.” You cannot. The whole point is that it’s getting better and better at it. That’s what it does.
As an art curator on tumblr I now have to spend a considerable amount of time trying to decipher whether or not the art I want to share is AI or not and I still sometimes get it wrong.
unfortunately my computer decided to die on me tonight. the screen is completely broken out of nowhere!! i feel so sad about it, and i don't have any coverage to have it repaired.
please reach out to book any card readings, birth chart readings, or asteroid readings because i am in need to save up for a brand new computer. i will do my best to create some work for here and for patreon through my phone.
thank you to those that reach out and reblog. i am grateful for anything that helps me at this time.
i hate you ai art i hate you "unalive" i hate you youtube premium i hate you twitter 8$ checkmark i hate you nfts i hate you therapy app advertisements i hate you non-chronological timelines i hate you instagram reels i hate you subtle tiktok filters that cant be turned off i hate you family bloggers i hate you ads on true crime episodes i hate you facebook i hate you vr glasses on chickens i hate you dystopian social media
Thank you lovely @ae-neon! This was a bop! Even if I'm apparently a shite character 😂💀 (I don't watch horror but comic relief characters irritate me 😂)
Thanks for the tag 🥰 I'd rather be the killer but the test has decided otherwise 🤷
Tagging: @shadowsxgwynriel @lulling-night-sky @emeriethevalkyriegirl @iambutmortal @mmiscbutterflies @fieldofdaisiies and whoever wants to find out if they will survive a horror movie 😉
horror movie creator tags: @sev-on-kamino @dystopicjumpsuit @deejadabbles @multi-fan-dom-madness @523rdrebel @wizardofrozz and anyone else who wants in 👀
Going to add on here: My favorite "scary" movies are Universal Monsters. The Mummy, Frankenstein, Wolfman... Do we count Ghostbusters as a "scary" movie?
NPT: (Lets see if I can tag some people that haven't been tagged yet) @kimiheartblade @n0vqni @neyswxrld @heyclickadee @orange-twilek-guy @hardcase-ct-yolo
so, i've never seen a horror movie and i'm also not planning to do that soon because i'm scared and paranoid. being the final girl? well i don't know, i always thought i'd be the first one to die tbh 🤔
if you're down to do it.. can i request miguel giving reader cuddles or just some plain ol' loving after coming home from a long day at school?
uni's been kicking my ass with the 8am - 8pm schedules and coming home to a big hunky man who'll treat me like a princess is my only wish.. 😭
Tender—Miguel O'Hara
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ synopsis: miguel takes care of you after a long day.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ pairing: uni student!gn!reader × miguel o'hara.
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ tags/cw: miguel uses alot of pet names because he's just soft and lovely around his lover, fluff :)
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ lumi's note: hi anon! as a fellow uni student with a schedule from 8 am to 8 pm and in need of comfort as well, this resonated with me. Hope you enjoy!
join my taglist! (Inbox open for fluff!)
Relief, is exactly how you felt when the elevator finally stopped at your floor and you saw your apartment door.
Your state could only be described as completely and utterly spent. Your previously brushed, clean hair was now disheveled and a little damp from the rain. A black tote hung from your shoulder, threatening to spill its content all over the floor at any minute, while you held your laptop bag weakly over your other shoulder.
Your muscles felt sore, and you were sure you caught a cold from the rain pouring down onto your head during your walk back home. All you ever wanted right now, was your clean bed and your lover's warm embrace.
Your hands reached to ring the doorbell, too exhausted to even reach into your bag and look for the keys. Much to your delight, you didn't have to wait long for an answer.
The door opened, the arouma of spices and mouth-watering cooking instantly filling your nostrils, making your instant ramen-filled stomach rumble angrily. The apartment was dim, the comfortable orangish lights spilling out of the door onto the gloomy corridor where you stood. A faint melody was playing on your vinyl, something with a slow saxophone, jazz.
And at the door, there he stood.
Wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats, an apron saying 'kiss the cook' covering his bare chest. His soft, black curls were wet, some of the strands at the front dripping water onto your carpet. You kept getting whiffs of his minty aftershave, only to notice the small stubble he'd grown was now long gone, leaving a 5'oclock shadow to define his strong jaw.
"Oh, cariño, let me help you with those—" Before he could move, you pushed him inside, clumsily let the bags fall off your shoulders and threw yourself at him. He caught you without losing his balance, strong arms wrapping around your waist while his head rested on top of yours. You pushed yourself more onto him, he smelled of spices, and that earthy cologne he wears all the time, and he was warm. Extremly so.
"Baby, did you walk?" You mustered up the energy to talk yet when you opened your mouth, a muffled noise of confirmation erupted. "I told you I'd pick you up—You're going to catch a cold. Let's change, hm? " He frowned at you, out of concern more than anything, all while helping you to your shared bedroom, his arms never leaving your waist. He helped you sit down on the bed, then opened his side of the closet to grab you one of his large, long sleeved shirts. You managed to undress yourself and put on the shirt he gave you, it smelled of that flowery laundry detergent of yours mixed with Miguel's cologne. The solace it brought you made light headed, gosh, you could sleep for days.
"Oh—No, no sleep until you eat. You probably haven't eaten properly today." Came your lover's baritone voice. You whined queitly, sprawling yourself across the bed. "Mig, 'm tired, tommrow?" Your eyes closed, and when you didn't hear his disapproval, you assumed he just walked out.
Then you felt yourself get lifted off of the comfort of your matress, your tummy squished against his broad shoulder.
"No puedo dejarte, amor, tienes que comer algo." You groaned, it was no use arguing with him, and besides, he was doing you a favour carrying you, your legs felt sore from walking anyway. Miguel set you down on the couch, and said he'll be gone for just a moment, telling you to stay awake for him. [I can't let you, love, you have to eat something]
You heard a few noises coming from the kitchen, a string of spanish curse words and sounds of plates falling but never followed by a crash. Miguel had covered you with a blanket and you were cozying up to a pillow, trying to pretend it's him. He came back after a few minutes, his apron long discarded, with a glass bowl filled with red soup, neatly garnished with avocados, lettuce and radishs.
"I made Pozole." It smelled delicious, Miguel rarely cooked since he was so busy, but when he did, you were sure it was going to be the best thing you've ever put in your mouth. You couldn't tell him you didn't want to eat when he was practically pushing the plate your way. Your arms weakly moved from underneath the blanket, but Miguel tutted at you, tutted. He lifted the spoon to your mouth, silently offering to feed you.
You giggled, and that stoic, serious expression he wore was replaced by a gentle smile and a loving gaze. If his colleges could see him now, they wouldn't believe its the same man who bossed them around.
Within these walls, he was yours, completely and utterly, yours.
He was patient, feeding you bit by bit, eyes never leaving your face. You were too busy enjoying the delight of a dish he was feeding you to notice his soft gaze. "S'good, Mig, So good."
"Yeah? I'm glad you like it, mi sol." He paused, realising you'd devoured the plate queit quickly. "You want me to get you some more?"
"No, 'nough." You spread your arms towards him, and he chuckled, picking you up, all while you were still tangeled in your blanket, now heading back to your room. He set you down for good this time, letting you sleep on his side of the bed while he got on from the other side. His strong arms wrapped around your figure, engulfing you with a sense of absolute security. You cuddled up closer and closer to him, the tip of your nose bumping against the crook of his neck. Your breath fanned against his skin, your legs a tangeled mess. His hands ran up the shirt you wore to squeeze your sides comfortingly.
Miguel was never tender, he found himself being rather harsh and cold most often than not, but not with you, never with you.
"Such a hardworking pretty little thing, aren't you?" He hummed, lips pressing against your forehead. You had slipped into sleep as soon as you set your head on his chest, and Miguel couldn't only admire your exhausted, but beautiful face, the way your lips parted and eyes fluttered every now and then.
"And all mine, yeah?"
Miguel moved, blowing on a scented candle that was lighting up the room, and returned back to his previous position, arms unmoving as the two of you cozied up against each other. He was slipping into sleep, when he heard a queit murmur, no louder than a whisper.
I actually finsihed this page today! I really liked playing around with the new font for Mister Bones over there! And I just really enjoy using watercolors for backgrounds, gives a very dreamy atmosphere~
pixelskylines
dededos
jbbartram-illu
stormborns
janainaart
gummygunk
discoholicmusic
