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#about reverie
catharsis-and-reverie · 8 months
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About This Blog
This blog was created for me to explore the different aspects of love and how I feel about them. This includes all forms of love, but will focus on aspects of romantic and sexual love. This blog will often shift in tones, as I have DID (dissociative identity disorder) and this is a blog that our entire collective will use to express themselves. We will not make that the focus however, it was mainly to explain why it may go from “love is a vile and painful thing” to “I think love is amazing and sweet and pure” with very little pattern or meaning to said shifts.
This idea of love will not only extend to people, but also the natural world. It will explore favorite fictional characters and their arcs of love, it will kind of be a dumping grounds for us to put things regarding the concept of love that we enjoy but don’t fit in other side blogs. There will also be highly NSFW themes at times, and I may reblog sexual scenarios I find appealing or fanfictions relating to themes I/we enjoy.
About Me
Name: Just call me Reverie or Rev
Pronouns: He/Him or They/Them
Age: mid-20s adult
Gender/Sexuality: I am a trans man, though my gender is not binary male and hard to pin down, though genderfluid is probably the best way to describe it. I am pansexual and a switch. No, I have never made a decision in my life. I have a strong preference for T4T romance.
Other info: I have DID (previously stated), am autistic. I also write and make art quite often, though I probably won’t share much art here. I may write little drabbles if I feel up to it but we’ll see.
Tags I’ll (try to) use for categorization:
#revs thoughts — my personal thoughts and original posts
#revs writing — my personal writings and original posts
#rev being feral — any posts of sexual nature (block if you do not want to see these, they will be both original posts and reblogs) Any and all fetishes or things that may require censorship will also be tagged
#rev getting emotional — posts relating to emotional feelings, both romantic or platonic in nature, both original and reblogs
#rev getting sappy — posts with a romantic lean, both original and reblogs
#artsy rev — any art I enjoy, usually reblogs
#revs hyperfixations — anything I’m hyperfixated on that fits the theme of this blog. Usually fictional characters tbh.
Will add more if I see fit. Will also use tags outside of this but those are mainly post specific.
Trigger Warnings:
I will try my best to always tag things that would need a TW. But please know there will be sexual themes, sometimes subversive in nature. The eroticism of cannibalism and violence of love comes to mind. I have experienced a lot of SA in my life as well and so themes related to trauma as a whole and how it affects my experience with love and sex may appear as well.
DNI:
Nothing comes to mind, though there is NSFW here and if I see minors or ageless blogs interacting with those posts they will be blocked immediately. Anyone can follow and if I feel uncomfortable by your interactions or things I see on your blog I’ll just block. Block button is free and I am a cheapskate.
Otherwise, enjoy your stay🥰
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christronomy · 8 months
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would love to be sandwiched in between changbin and chan while they take turns pounding my cunt. like imagine chan pulls out after cumming inside you once and is like "'s binnie's turn now, baby. you feel that? mhm. feel how different it feels? that nice stretch?" cause he knows bin's cock is a lot more girthy than his but it's okay cause chan makes up for what bin lacks in length yk. chan would tease your clit with his fingers, rubbing slow circles around it and sucking on your nipples while changbin fucks you rough. he's a moaning mess, makes your body shake and jolt around on top of chan's from the force of his thrusts, but the latter only chuckles lowly at how eager he is. "hyung, she takes it so good," he practically whimpers, and that makes you clench again, eliciting a low growl from his chest. "look at that, pretty, you're gonna make binnie cum," chan says, abandoning your swollen bud to put his fingers in your mouth instead. before you know it, you're both cumming hard, a loud moan escaping changbin's lips as he fills you up, but he keeps rutting his hips into you until it hurts so much he needs to pull out. "already?" chan queries, his voice dripping faux disappointment, and he looks back at you, smiling in a way that lets you know he's definitely not letting the both of you rest anytime soon. he lightly taps the tip of his cock against your clit before pushing into you again suddenly, making you yelp softly from the overstimulation. "must be my turn again, hmm?"
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butchyy · 2 months
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otaku553 · 4 months
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Thinking very hard about an AU idea of mine. Reluctant king Sabo AU!
In which Sabo isn’t saved by Dragon, but survives long enough to drift ashore and be saved by the doctors of Goa Kingdom, who do so only to ransom his medical bills from Sabo’s parents. Sabo’s parents take him back, thinking that his amnesia makes him a clean slate, but Sabo, young and stubborn and unsure of his entire identity, knows that everything is wrong and runs again, and again, and again.
Until at some point, he meets the Revolutionaries, and realizes that he can be useful to them, provide them information, make something good of an inescapable situation. From then on, he starts acting the noble that he was born as, in order to be a more useful informant to the Revolutionaries, until sunk cost fallacy hits and he believes that being a noble is the only way that he can be useful to the Revolutionaries. So at that point, why not take it all the way?
At 17, Sabo becomes one of Princess Sarie’s suitors, and at 17, he has doubts about using the princess for his own goals. Sarie is a romantic, and she wants a dramatic fairy tale of a romance, and she was already charmed, but the moment Sabo opens up to her about not wanting to use her to get to the throne, having lofty ambitions of helping the people (just not the people she thinks he’s talking about), Sabo becomes the one she simply must marry, because surely if she tries hard enough, she can make him love her back.
Soon after, the king and his son die. Sarie’s father and brother die. And while Sabo conveniently ascends to the throne, he also swiftly implicates his father, Outlook, in the assassination of all heirs to the throne, resulting in Outlook’s arrest and subsequent execution. And thus, at 18, Sabo becomes king, and begins to gradually institute great changes to Goa Kingdom.
Design-wise, Sabo wears an eyepatch because his damaged eye is considered a grotesque sight by nobles’ standards. Under the eyepatch, he wears heavy makeup to hide the burn scar. These are both at the behest of his birth parents, who spin a story about Sabo having been born half blind to hide the fact that Sabo had been shot by a Celestial Dragon and save face. To those who have seen his scar, they fabricate a second secret story that he was unfortunately kidnapped as a child. Sabo never does find out, until he regains his memories, where the burn scar is actually from.
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humanmorph · 9 months
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i really like putting these 3 next to each other. there's a lot of cool throughlines / parallels / contrasts that are SO fun to think about... like their relationship to (doing) violence! expecially excited for wherever Cori is gonna end up by the end of this season. on one hand i love going 'yes!!! kill!!!' when she does something sick. on the other : ( oh no
(quote is from Marielda 10: Four Conversations. it's said to Sylvi's character that season, which is additionally neat :>)
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reveluving · 1 year
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today's batmom thot of the day is:
Bruce's secret stash of your 𝙣𝙪𝙙𝙚 polaroids!
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warnings: smut obv (minors DNI!), thirsty!Bruce is thirsty for his wife <;3
check out my batmom m.list &lt;3
Nobody loves you more than your husband. Anyone to claim otherwise, be it his children, Alfred or even your own staff (which were basically teenagers who now sees you as their mother, at this point), well, that'll only happen when hell freezes over.
The problem is? The man is always busy, as a renowned business by day and a renowned vigilante by night. So, he can't always spend time with you as much as he hopes for. So, naturally, when he's graced with the opportunity to be with you, no doubt he uses it like it's his last day on Earth.
But when he can't?
His nude polaroids of you are his saving grace.
You see that gif up there? That's him sneaking glances at those photos at any given time.
I've actually mentioned this fact in one of my drabbles! One of his favourite ones is kept in his wallet, stashed in the same slot behind your cafe's business card—if in any case his kids have his wallet for whatever reason, the last place they'd investigate is your card.
Or at least, he could only hope none of them ever stumble upon it.
If not, he knew you'd never let him keep another one. It's happened before, and he was lucky enough to find it.
But, was it worth traumatizing his father figure, who was unlucky enough to have found it?
What was it, you might ask?
It was during your honeymoon in Japan, your hotel room overlooking the city at night. He had on you the bed, his thumb nestled in your lips as he bottomed out. The spurt of cum trailing from your cunt up to your pretty glossy lips. The pure bliss on your face as you take his hard cock and oh, it never fails to make his blood run hot.
"Messy girl." He tutted with a sly smile, cooing at the mix of your drool and his cum coating his fingers. The magnificent view of the Tokyo Tower plus the skyscrapers surrounding it was an added benefit; a variety of neon lightly illuminating your room, enough for Bruce to see you in your glory.
He already took a good nine or ten photos of you on his phone before tossing it aside with your polaroid camera, where he's also used it on you for another three, one of which will definitely be his number one. For now, he wanted no interruptions, and loomed over you, the dangerous look in his eyes barely hidden behind his wet hair made it clear that he was beyond done with you. It wasn't until you whimpered and rolled against his hips that the look he had was accompanied by a smirk, knowing that you needed him as much as he needed you.
Yes, that honeymoon had to be one of the best ones he's ever had, and he's been to plenty with you.
The point is, his family has had enough trauma, for they've witnessed their fair share of 'unspeakable events' in the past regarding the two of you, be it in the bedroom, some gala, your cafe's storeroom.
But that's besides the point.
We've only talked about one of his utmost favourite polaroids, so you can bet your ass that he has more than just one! Those other favourites are stashed in the bedside table, his office desk, both in the mansion and his company, the Batcomputer's drawer, and the Batmobile. All of which were locked for his own use, of course.
He probably has at least 20, and counting, even, for your husband is not only a pleaser in bed, but an artistic one, as well. His muse? You, duh. Whether it's a polaroid of you in his oversized dress shirt only or nothing at all, these keepsakes are far more valuable than any art piece in any prestigious galleries. Better yet, they're priceless, for they belong to him and and him only.
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a reupload. dumblr really testing me. going back to my IRL responsibilities cuz shit is crazy rn see yall in a few months tho <3 /j
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mymarifae · 10 days
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hsr's a great game it's like "hey here's this guy who's a cyborg cowboy of all things isn't that fun. look at how wild and flamboyant and entertaining he is! an automatic censor was installed into his universal translator when he got his rockin robot bod so he can't swear anymore and this is especially funny in the cn and jp text of the game because his swears are replaced with things like sweetie, baby, and cutie."
"also his entire homeland was wiped out by the intergalactic capitalistic monolith that's been cruelly siphoning valuable resources from countless planets with little to absolutely no regard for the residents. they spared nothing once their boss gave them the go ahead to use military force. not even his baby daughter, who had just barely learned how to walk."
"he never got the chance to erect a grave for her. or the other loved ones he lost."
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wolfofcelestia · 7 days
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What if Dawnbreaker doesn't have his own version of MC with him in his world because
his MC is the player?
All the other Zaynes have their own MCs, but Dawnbreaker doesn't have his
Nor do we have our own version of Zayne
He's searching for us
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morgansplace · 4 months
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My taste in men? Nerds with rambling habits and nervous personalities
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wormzandgutz · 4 months
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Happy birthday to Vivi!!!!<3 I wish she could join the crew orignal image:
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spear-gsun · 3 months
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A character i designed in class today, got the assignment to make a character and for some reason i was thinking about bells I realized while making her that she'd actually fit into my oc world pretty well and add some really interesting stuff
Have not come up with a name for her yet unsurprisingly, so lets just call her Bell Goat(sheep? cow?) Grandma for now
Also heres the sketches from when i was trying to come up with ideas, first i drew the bells in the corner, then the person in the top right, and then the sketch i ended up refining
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sincerelywhistler · 5 months
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Ellis ✨🪐
This is certified Reverie Audios propaganda. Ellis, our bestest enby bookstore clerk, could recommend me a telephone book and I’d still fully trust their judgment.
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Ellis headcanons under the cut!
- They have a rule that any time they go grocery shopping or run errands, Eggs is entitled to being brought a lil treat from the store, too. It’s only fair!
- They keep a list of dates they want to take Gem on in their notes app. It’s password protected, just incase Gem stumbles across it. Can’t have any surprises be spoiled hehe
- Ellis can appreciate Kindles and other reading tablets for their uses, but they’ll eat a bowl of staples for breakfast before they willingly choose that over an actual book with actual pages. That book smell is just too… booky… to pass up
- Jewelry lover! Necklaces, rings, bracelets— doesn’t matter. Adds to their ✨whimsy✨
- They’ve gotten pretty skilled in making their own jewelry, too. It was a trick born from boredom that they picked up while things were slow at the bookshop, bending paper clips into fun shapes to pass the time. Soon enough, it then turned into a full-blown hobby once they invested in getting the proper supplies and whatnot. They hand-make Gem, Cyril, their grandmother, and other loved ones something for their birthdays each year <3
- If you dog-ear/fold the corner of a book’s page around them, you better sleep with one. eye. open.
- Was on the debate team in high school for a year or two. Cool, calm, and collected arguments typically won the race.
- I also feel like they know a lot of random ass trivia, just because
- Weekly take-out and board game nights!!
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christronomy · 9 months
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i'm thinkin about chan and how he would slap your thigh when you say you're gonna cum too soon. he's teasing your clit with his thumb, moving his fingers in and out of your sopping hole as slowly as possible, drawing out the pleasure in a way that makes it burn so good. you're so close already, but he told you to hold it in, and you're being a little brat. "can't, daddy... 's too good... can't hold it in," you'd say, your voice whiny and breathy, like a cute little puppy, and he can't help but want to let you have it. but he gave you rules, and you need to follow them. you squirm under him impatiently, trying to grind against his fingers to gain more friction, but he stops you with a harsh slap on your inner thigh that makes you yelp out in both pain and the frustration of him having pulled his fingers out.
"'m not gonna give you what you want until you quit being a greedy little slut," he says, slapping your thigh again, much harder this time, enough to leave an angry red mark on your pretty skin. you whimper softly in defiance, and he grabs your chin to make you look at him. "you promise you'll be good for me? don't make me have to punish you, love," he says, his voice soft as he speaks, but his gaze is cold, demanding. you nod reluctantly, and he slowly slips his fingers inside of you again, still moving at that torturously slow pace. you try with all your might to stay still, ignoring your twitching muscles and that part of your brain that is practically screaming at you to move your hips against him again. "see? not that hard, is it?" he'd ask, his tone sickly sweet, and the way he raises his eyebrows at you makes you automatically agree.
"good girl. now you can cum. be good for me and cum, or i won't give you anything else and make you wait 'til tomorrow."
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appelsider · 4 months
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⭐️Trails Doodle Canvas⭐️
Thank you everyone who took part in this!!
Credits: HERE & HERE
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avonne-writes · 3 months
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Reverie!Gale reevaluating his life... He's gonna confess a few things in that scorching sand
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the-wiggler · 2 months
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take me in your tender arms, roll me in the dirt
Sypnosis: It's not love, but Gage will take what he can (and remain in deep denial).
spotify play lover's dream by saints amongst sinners
[title is from cover me in roses in holden laurence]
word count: 1.3k
“Fuck, this party is boring,” They sigh, leaning on the counter and taking a swig of their beer. They were in the kitchen of some house party, the sound of some Spotify EDM playlist thumping in the background. 
Gage glanced over, peeling away at the sticker of some off-brand beer, condensation dripping down his hands. “Yeah,” He chuckled, eyes darting to them, “We should’ve known the minute we heard this music. It’s downright tragic.” His eyes follow the curve of their smirk, searching for approval. 
‘Down, boy. Your tail is practically wagging.’
Gage quickly averts his eyes, paying close attention to the way the ceiling light hits his beer bottle. He could barely look in their eyes most of the time, breathtakingly beautiful and full of promises. But now, when they were dressed in some tight top that left little to the imagination and showed just enough skin to leave him craving for more, Gage feared bursting into flames if he looked at them too long.
“I thought that parties now would be better than those booze-fests in high school but God,” They sigh, running a hand through their hair, “This is somehow worse. It smells like sex and artificial fruits everywhere.”
“That’s the vapes, I think. All the rage nowadays.” 
They wrinkle their nose, “Fuck, that must be it. God, I can’t believe I got dressed for nothing.” 
“I mean you look good,” He nervously forces out, taking a swig of his beer to fuel his confidence, “And maybe I could, uh, give that outfit the attention it deserves. Could think of a few ways to make it worth your while. Upstairs, maybe.” 
They return the look with a surreptitious smile and throw back a sip of their own beer, letting the question linger in the stale, suddenly too-quiet kitchen. “Yeah? And just what do you intend to do to me upstairs, mister?” 
It’s a game they play, sometimes at a frat party, sometimes when they message him in the middle of the night to come over, and they spend the hour making “small talk” before they inevitably end up in bed again. Always playing coy, dancing around what they really wanted. Teasing him and pushing him until he took the final step. It made Gage’s head spin. 
“Oh? You want me to say it here? In the kitchen?” He feigns disbelief, placing his beer bottle down, placing it on his chest in astonishment, “You absolute heathen!”
Mocking, joking, in an attempt to break the blatantly brewing sexual tension.
He’s still learning to get over his people-pleasing propensities, learning to ask for what he wants directly and accepting the consequences. But it’s a work in progress, and when faced with his friends-with-benefits that he’s not in love with, his resolve crumbles and all he knows is to beat around the bush, to laugh off any sense of intimacy between them, to hide any semblance of yearning on his part. 
“Hmm,” They smile, enigmatic as the Mona Lisa. Putting down their beer and moving to face him, they crowd him against the countertop, pressing their barely covered chest to his, eyes slowly dragging up, lingering, very pointedly, on his lips before meeting his gaze, “Me? A heathen? You’re the one who’s been staring at me all evening, don’t think I haven’t noticed.” The words whispered against his lips, softly, their lips grazing against his for the briefest of seconds before pulling away, like it was a secret only for the both of them. 
Cause at the end of the day, that was all it was, wasn’t it? They were each other's dirty secret, whispered under the loud music of a frat party, said in the silent looks sent across the room. And Gage was fine with that, really, he was. The physical satisfaction of feeling them close to him, sending waves and waves of pleasure coursing through him, sneaking out of their room even before the sun had risen, hiding away in closets and watching them flirt with other people, just for him to end up in their bed again. He was absolutely ok with that. 
That’s what he tells himself, at least, as he surges forward, closing the distance between them with one hand cupping their face, the other dropping down to their waist, removing any semblance of space between them.  
They move in tandem, lips moulding and bodies pushing against each other. God, they tasted good, like beer and passion and wanton lust. He was addicted to the taste, addicted to them, their hands roaming his body, their body grinding against his. An erotic display of bodies moving against each other, grasping desperately where they could, tiny gasps and moans entirely too inappropriate for the back of some frat boy’s kitchen.
They part, eyes still closed, his lips desperately chasing theirs. “Shall we, uh, adjourn to the bedroom, my liege?” Even now, even when they’ve made clear their desires, will he continue to hide the hopeless pining of his heart. Because this isn’t what he wants, not really, no matter how much he lies to himself, tells himself otherwise.
He wants to kiss them because he wants to, wants to kiss them over morning breakfast, wants to be greeted with their sweet smile when he comes home from work, wants to learn the quiet, intimate, inconsequential details of their everyday life, wants to become so intertwined with them that he teetered on the very edge of losing himself. 
Most importantly, he wanted them to love him the way he loves them.
But that’s for another night.
For now, he revels in their breathless chuckle, letting them pull him through the throngs of drunkards into some random’s bedroom. There, they push him onto the bed, grinning deviously as he lets out a quiet oof before climbing on top of him and continuing their heated kiss. His hands move to tug at their hair, swallowing the groan that falls from their lips while they move to slip under his shirt, cold hands against his warm body making him shudder. 
“Watch the hands,” He breathlessly warns as they part, even as he quickly pushes his sweater over his shirt, “Oh- fuck- wait, my sweater uh- a little help please?” They snort, breaking the mood momentarily as they carefully manoeuvre his sweater over his head. 
“Ok, ok quit laughing, asshole,” He complains, tugging at the hem of their tight shirt, “C’mon, off. S’not fair I’m the only half-dressed one here.” 
“Wait.” They mutter, moving their head down to press a light kiss to his neck, forcing a gasp through Gage’s lips. They continue their assault on him, pressing soft kisses all over his body, marking him, smiling against his soft body as he falls apart under their ministrations. 
And maybe one day, Gage will ruin this perfectly good arrangement, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. But for now? For tonight? When they’re worshipping him like this, sweet praises falling from those kiss-bruised lips? When their hands are pressed against his sweaty body? Gage will tell himself that maybe, just maybe, they feel the same way he does, that they want him the way he does. 
That maybe their heart also threatens to burst when they hear him laugh, that they search for him in every room without even meaning to. That every joke they tell is just to hear him laugh, that every love song seems to have that one specific line that so perfectly describes him, that they have a secret playlist for him that they listen to in the dead of night. That every kiss they press to his body is an admission of love, of adoration for his entire being. 
He lets himself forget, momentarily, that this is all a dream, that in the morning (if they even stayed that long) this would be over; that the love and ecstasy he feels is only a means to an end for them, a temporary distraction for his aching heart. 
For tonight, he forgets. 
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