#GIRL HELP!!!! THE ROT HAS CONSUMED ME

[pineappical]

i got this embroidered a couple hours ago and this is how im looking in my chair while drawing ted rn

[rumplereids]

shining light.

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. dad!spencer reid. reader goes into early labor. childbirth complications, but nothing explicit or detailed. GIRL DAD SPENCER REID! a/n: girl dad spencer reid brain rot. im so consumed by thoughts of him that i havent edited this yet (i havent edited kiss kiss and wonderstruck yet either lol) i hope u like this as much as i liked writing it :) masterlist. requests are open !

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Hello?”

“Hello, are you okay?”

“My mommy is in a lot of hurt,” a child sniffles from the other side of the line, “And dadda is away at work.”

“Oh, honey. How did your mommy get hurt?”

“She was in the ki-chen and I was reading. And then I think she fell.”

“Is your mommy with you? Is she awake?”

“Yeah. But mommy is crying,” the little girl’s voice turns faint, like she’s speaking away from the phone, “Mommy! Are you okay? Is bubba okay?!”

There’s an indistinct voice that answers back.

“Honey? Are you there? What’s your name?”

“I’m Ellie Reid. My dadda is Spencer. He works with aunt Penny and aunt JJ at ‘quanico’ to catch bad guys.”

“Okay, Ellie. Who’s bubba?”

“The bubba in mommy’s tummy?”

“Your mommy has a baby in her tummy?”

“It’s a baby sister.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Ellie.”

“Are you on your way now?” the sweet voice asks.

“Yes, Ellie. The paramedics are at your door. Can you let them in?”

“Okay.”

Spencer rushes through the hallway, JJ and Emily just a few steps behind him. As soon as the plane landed, an agent alerted the unit to a 911 call made by Spencer’s daughter. Words unneeded, Derek got into an SUV, immediately and silently offering to drive Spencer to the hospital. JJ and Emily got into the SUV with him, worry filling the blonde, though Spencer doesn’t have the mind to think about the others. His mind is solely focused on you.

Are you in pain? All he knew was that Ellie was the one to call for help. Said you fell in the kitchen. Were you hurt? Was your baby hurt?

“Spencer!” Penelope was waiting for him as he turns a corner.

“Where is she? Is she okay?”

“Mommy’s okay, dadda.” Ellie peeps up from behind Penelope’s skirts.

“Oh, my angel,” Spencer falls to his knees, arms opening to take his daughter in his arms. “You did so well. You remembered the emergency number, huh?”

“You said to press 911 in our phone if anything bad happens. Mommy got a big hurt.”

“I know. You were so good,” he presses a kiss on her soft, curly hair. His hands are rubbing up and down Ellie’s back. Whether he was soothing his daughter or himself didn’t matter.

“She’s in labor. Her contractions were bad bad. A nurse told me that the baby’s breeched.”

“Dadda, what does breech mean?” Ellie’s r’s still sounded like w’s, and Spencer’s heart completely melted.

He looks down at the little girl in his arms, her face still hidden against his chest.

“Do you remember the photo we showed you of bubba?”

“The weird black and white one?”

“Yeah,” he passes a hand against her hair, “A breech means that bubba’s standing up inside mommy’s belly. Not upside down how she’s supposed to be.”

“She’s so silly,” Ellie giggles. Spencer smiles back, he hears soft laughter from the three women surrounding them, “Yeah, bubba’s really silly.”

“Did she hurt mommy?”

“No, angel. She didn’t mean to.”

“Oh,” Ellie whispers. She looks up at her dad, “I knew you were gonna come.”

“Yeah? You did?”

“You’re a hero, of course you’re gonna save mommy when she’s hurt.”

Spencer wipes his thumb against his daughter’s soft cheek, “Of course. I’ll save you when you’re hurt too, Ellie-darling.”

“I know that,” she says matter-of-factly.

A nurse walks up to their group, “Are you the family of Y/N Reid?”

Spencer stands with Ellie on his hip, her little arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yes, I’m her husband.”

“Congratulations, sir. You have a healthy baby girl,” he feels the sigh of relief from everyone with him.

“How’s my wife?”

“How’s mommy?”

Spencer and Ellie were almost simultaneous in their concern for you.

“She’s fine. She’s sedated. The birth took a huge toll on her. You can enter her room, if you want.”

Derek finally arrives. He’s catching his breath from his run, his eyes meeting Spencer’s quickly before he exclaims, “Ellie-bean!”

“Uncle Derek!” Ellie wriggles in Spencer’s arms, he bends down to let her down.

Short legs run to her favorite uncle.

“We’re going to mommy and bubba now!”

Derek stands with Ellie in his arms. He looks to Spencer. “Yeah? Y/N’s okay?”

“We can visit her now,” JJ says with a small smile.

The group starts walking. On their way from the visitor’s lounge to your hospital room, Spencer overhears Ellie’s whispering; “Uncle Derek.”

“Yeah, Ellie-bean?” Derek whispers back.

“I want pretzels.”

“Salted? Cheese?”

“Um, salted. Please. And apple juice too.”

Spencer can’t fight the grin on his face.

“Alright, Ellie-bean. We’ll get pretzels and juice after we see your mom.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Derek shifts to bring Ellie higher against his hip.

“Pinky promise?”

“I pinky promise. On my badge and credentials.”

Ellie lets out a giggle, “Dadda!”

Spencer turns his head to give her a smile, “What’s up, angel?”

“What does cre-den-shals mean?”

Oh, his Eleanor. Always so bright.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite

[sakachichi]

Drabble!Choso

Lazy Sundays are the best, just lounging around in your pajamas binge watching a random show or movie all day, cuddling with your dear boyfriend, it’s the best feeling.

You laid in between Choso’s legs, a blanket covering the two of you, the blinds were shut and the AC was on full blast. Choso had napped like 2 or 3 times already. You just laid there eyes glued to the tv, snuggling up towards your boyfriend when it got too cold. This was the ideal Sunday for you two, no plans, no rush, just literal vibes :p.

“I’m bored.” He mumbles, fingers running through your hair. “What do you wanna do?” You ask him, setting down your phone to look up at him, batting your lashes as you wait for him to answer.

“I don’t know…” he ponders, gears shifting in his head as his eyes wander around the room. He stays silent for a moment before his lips curl into a small smirk, “can I eat you out?” He wiggles his eyebrows. You giggle, sitting up now, “really? That’s you wanna do?” You ask and he nods.

“You don’t wanna play just dance or something?” You suggest, although you would really like to feel his lips on your now throbbing cunt. Choso rolls his eyes playfully, “yeahh, but eating you out is way more funner. Whadda y’say?” He flashes you a dorky smile before you sigh and nod, pretending like it’s such a burden. He lays down flat and motions you with his fingers to sit on his face, “c’mon doll, right here.” He smiles excitedly. You shimmy out of your panties before waddling over to his face, knees now on either side of his head, pussy in full view right in front of him — fluttering and glistening just right. His hands find their way to your hips, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip before latching onto your sensitive clit — sucking on the bundle of nerves so deliciously it instantly has you rolling your eyes back.

“Oh, ffffuck.” You gasp, hips softly rutting against his face, sending shock waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your sweet essence coats hits his tastes buds and he hums as he savors the taste, fucking his tongue inside you for more. His mouth works wonders on your pussy, not leaving a single inch untouched. “Yesyesyes~ right there baby!” You're a complete mess by now, riding his face as you chase your orgasm. And it’s not long before your trembling before him as he nurses your climax so perfectly, “good fucking girl.” He rasps against you, giving your ass a small slap before helping you off of him. “Backshots?” He suggests, and honestly he doesn’t even need to ask because you’re already waiting there with your ass in the air, waiting for him to pull his dick out.

In no time he was already putting in his tip, pussy already so slick and perfect for him to ease in. The whole time the two of you are giggling, enjoying these intimate moments with each other, so raw and beautiful there’s no room for embarrassment. “ ‘love you so much, baby.” He grunts as he’s slamming his hips forcefully against yours, the grip of his fingers almost bruising you. You nod as you hum, to cock-drunk to even say full sentences, “m-me too, mhn!”

The boredom was instantly cured, pleasure consuming your bodies beautifully, cumming so hard it damn near knocked the two of you out. Afterwards both of you collapsed in each other’s arms, drifting off in each other’s arms, but not before sharing some more giggles and kisses. The best way to spend your Sunday.

BACKSHOTSSSS 😛 anyways happy Sunday primas, this is literally me today, I’ve been rotting…alive. Anyways hoped u enjoyed this silly drab lol also ignore the typos I’ll fix it later lol 😛

[oosyerdad]

Spoiler if you haven’t seen Never Give Annabelle A Gun

But I’m not actually over Butch’s interrogation, Henry’s slow decent into obsession and madness, and his treatment of Annabelle and Butch.

And how deranged Henry is.

(Credit to AJ’s acting in the play! He did so well at becoming more and more loose with his actions and thoughts and how Henry’s tunnel vision for Annabelle was a cute crush that developed into something more)

But the fact that as an officer/ sheriff, Henry didn’t bring butch to the station, he brought her to his room in the inn, tied her up and brought another guy to help get information out of Butch.

He starts singing sweetly, but it’s creepy, it’s…off, his only focus is “The Girl With The Gun” and he will stop at nothing to get to her.

He tries to play nice, but Butch is strong willed, they don’t want their friend to get hurt by this creep, but not only that Butch doesn’t know that their feelings for Annabelle are much deeper than what’s on the surface.

So Henry raises his voice, he gets in her face, he moves rapid and aggressively.

(Headcannon: He doesn’t know Butch is a woman, he thinks that butch is just some tall clean shaven slender guy who’s trying to make moves on his girl. It’s not until he gets close he realises Butch isn’t t like the other guys, specifically the part where butch says that she and Annabelle were going to be free! And butch starts to break down!)

Butch literally has to be one step ahead so tries to fool Henry by convincing him to get close enough to headbutt him and try to make an escape. Butch needs to get to Annabelle.

And this revelation makes Henry more dangerous, more unpredictable. He brings in a pig filled with helium and forces Butch to inhale it against her will. He shoves it into her mouth, again with brute force and screams at her to tell him where “The Girl With The Gun” is!

Who knows how long Butch went through that, how much helium they consumed, how light headed and weak they were when they escaped and got to Annabelle, but rode diligently to Annabelle to save her from Henry.

But before she gets to Annabelle she’s found gagged and still tied up by the barkeep.

And don’t get me started on the nice guy act before he again touches Annabelle this time without her consent and forcibly puts the shoe on her foot. Annabelle protests and clearly states she’s not comfortable and leant like it but Henry persists.

And a sinister thing, in my mind at least. Henry leaves butch there to rot, and takes her tie to manipulate Annabelle into thinking Butch is dead, maybe died after the robbery (which was Annabelle’s suggestion, adding to the guilt)

And Butch comes in, they shoot Henry and collapse to the floor, they toss a gun to Annabelle who finishes the job and yet as he is dying Henry is still only staring at Annabelle

This was improvised on the spot and honestly the dynamic between these three characters are insane.

[lacontroller1991]

Rumors (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Misc Master List

Summary: After you believed he was dead, it comes as a shock to you that he's alive and wrecking havoc.

Warnings: 18+, HEAVY LANGUAGE, drug usage, drinking, mention of cannibalism, violence, gun slinging, blood, nudity, fighting

Author's Note: I swear I'll work on my other requests but the Cooper Howard brain rot is REAL and its STRONG, anywho, first time so let me know how you guys like it :)

Word Count: 3k

--------------------------------

In the wastelands of California, rumors get you killed and you’ve heard rumors. Whispers of his return. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him. Since he left you on your own in the middle of a gun fight to collect his bounty; and it nearly cost you your life. 

The last you’ve heard about him was that he was 6 feet deep and locked in a coffin with no way of escaping, unless someone purposely dug him out. Yet, you can’t think of a single person who would. Still, rumors spread like wildfire, and you’d be damned if you don’t try and get revenge.

-----------

The California sun beats down on your back. The heat weighs you down, but not as much as the pain in your chest. He let you believe that he cared about you. He really fooled you into a sense of partnership, romance, but you really should’ve known. Cooper Howard is a lone wolf, nothing and nobody will stand in his way. 

The site of Filly in the distance is a welcoming sight. If anyone has seen anything, it would have been here. It doesn’t take you long to cross the remaining distance, sweat dripping down your back as you enter the market. 

“Haven’t seen ya in a while (Y/N).” A local merchant snides with a creepy smile, showcasing his rotten teeth. Walking over to your side, he runs a hand down your arm and you resist the urge to gag. “What are ye in town for?” 

“Information.” You eye the stairs that are being fixed, along with other wooden structures, a signature sign that he’s been here.

“Looking for your Ghoul, huh?” His face is offly close to yours and it’s enough for you to draw your gun, casually pressing it into his side, causing him to instantly back off. “He was here two days ago. Got in a firefight with a knight, seemed like he was after a bounty.” You scoff. Of course he is. Anything for those damn vials. Vials. At the thought of vials a malicious smile forms on your face. Sooner or later, he will need to get more, and you’ll be there when he does. 

Holstering your gun, you flip him a bottle cap in appreciation before stalking off, heading to the one place you know he will be.

By the time the sun sets, you’re settled in an abandoned building, low enough to the ground where you can see what’s coming, but high enough to be out of any immediate danger. Wrapping your arms around yourself tighter, you can’t help but to think about the times where you and him would be shoulder to shoulder, barely touching, but enough to make butterflies fly in your stomach.

Despite his ghoulish appearance, you find him to be quite handsome. His rugged cowboy exterior does barely enough to hide the last shred of humanity he has, and at times, it was directed towards you. With a sigh, you let your eyes shut, sleep easily consuming over you.

-----------

“Please, let me go.” A feminine voice stirs you from your unconsciousness as your eyes blink against the harsh light of the sun. “Please, sir, I’m begging you.” Shuffling slightly, you peer your head past the concrete wall, spotting two figures, one in a blue/yellow vault-tec suit and the other in a cowboy hat with a lasso around the girl. 

“Well I’d be damned,” it’s hushed and to yourself, afraid of him hearing you and spotting you.

“I done told you vaultie, ain’t gonna happen. You deaf or sum?” His drawl sends chills down your spine as he nudges her forward with the tip of his gun. “Now hur-” his words are cut off by a coughing fit but his grip on the lasso remains. After regaining his breath, he wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Hurry up. I ain’t got all day.” You watch in silence as the pair walks past your hideout, unaware of your existence. Grabbing your things, you rush off after them, making sure to stay in the shadows as your brain goes through different scenarios of what could happen. Would you and Cooper make up? Would he try to kill you? Would you try to kill him? Does he even care? The closer they get to the supermart, the more you hang back, hand slightly hovering over your gun. 

Trying to listen to the conversation, you strain your ears but to no avail. Peeking over an abandoned car, you focus your eyes on the situation ahead of you, watching as he gestures for the girl to go through the sliding glass door. The minute they shut, he collapses on the ground and you resist the urge to go and help him. Sighing, you open the bag at your side, rummaging through a variety of equipment before your fingers run over the cool glass of the vials that keep him sane. “That’s just ironic,” you chuckle, looking back to him still laying on the ground, a slight tang of pity radiating through your chest. If there’s anything you hate about yourself, it’s that. You’re too soft for people who have no problem leaving you out to dry. 

You could confront him now, kick him while he’s down, but being dramatic is more fun. It’s useless trying to talk to him when he’s in that sorry state. 

An hour later and you’re still outside, covering from the sun and waiting for the right moment to make your appearance. The sight of the vaultie walking alone gathers your attention as you keep out of sight? Now how the hell did she manage to escape? You’re not an idiot, everyone and their mamas know that the SuperDuper Mart takes in bodies and harvests the organs, selling them to the highest bidder. So how on this God forsaken planet did she escape practically unscathed? As she walks further away you ponder the possibility that maybe you and everyone on the surface has really underestimated the ones who live below. 

Once she is out of sight, you rush out from your hiding spot and toward the mart, hoping to find him. “Well, he isn’t where I saw him last,” you huff out, drawing your gun from its holster as you walk through the glass door, keeping your eyes vigilant. With the mart being practically empty aside from overturned themed rides, it’s easy to hear a person stumbling around, knocking stuff over. 

By the time you spot him, his back is to you, head tipped slightly back as he downs a bottle of alcohol he found. The sound of you cocking your gun causes him to freeze in place, and if you were facing him, you would spot the smile on his face. 

“You ain’t gonna shoot me now, are ya?” Your silence is deafening and you don’t move an inch, not really sure if you would actually shoot him or not.  “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna find me.”

“It’s pretty easy to find a drug addicted ghoul these days, especially ones that have a penchant for the dramatics.” You keep your gun trained on his back as he slowly turns around, dropping the glass bottle and letting it shatter to the floor. 

“Me? Dramatic? I don’t think I’m the dramatic one sweetheart. You’re the one who came in here, guns blazing. I think you’re the dramatic one.” He takes a step forward, and another, and another, until his chest is pressed right against the nozzle of your gun. “Now why don’t you put your gun down and give Coop a big ki-” your gun whacks across his face, tearing the flesh slightly only for it to heal right away, causing him to growl. His gloved hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, hoisting you against the wall while you struggle in his grasp. “That’s no way to greet me. Where are your manners?” He asks, his southern accent penetrating each word.

“Fucker,” raising a leg, you kick between his with all you can muster and spit on his face, the shock being enough to let you loose and allowing you to slip out. 

He looks at you for a second before laughing sadistically, using his thumb to collect your spit and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he was savoring it. “I missed you kitten.”

Scoffing, you holster your gun and take a seat on the couch, turning your attention to the tv where you spot a young, handsome, human Cooper Howard on the screen. “Really Coop? You’re that full of yourself?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he plops down next to you before taking another bottle and giving that a swig. “Was the only half decent shit in this hell hole,” at the mention of the place, you take a proper look around, bodies laying everywhere, some human, some ghoul, and even a robot.

“The fuck happened here?”

“Was traveling with a vault dweller, traded her for some vials but I guess she didn’t take too well to the idea of her organs being sold,” he comments nonchalantly, twisting off the cap of a vial and draining the liquid into his mouth while you look at him like he grew two heads. 

“You’re meaning to tell me that that vault dweller managed to do all this?”

“Did I stutter?” Now you know you really underestimated the people in the vaults. You honestly wonder if they’re all like this or is she just some random four leaf clover. “Why’d you come in here raisin hell anyway?”

Leaning back on the couch, you look forward to the tv, trying to concentrate on the handsome man on the screen instead of the one sitting next to you, “heard you were dead.”

“The details of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Still doesn’t answer my question,” he looks at you with a look that says ‘I frankly don’t give a shit’ but something deep down inside of you tells you that he does. 

“I’m pissed as hell that you left me. I thought we were partners?” Rolling his eyes, he laps at a random white powder laying on the table before leaning back.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Didn’t see a need to stick around. You got what you wanted and I got what I wanted. Seemed like a fair trade.” 

A sigh escapes your mouth as you take the bottle from his one hand and downed it, scrunching your nose as the alcohol burns down your throat and lights a fire in your stomach. How can he be so naive? You had initially joined him when you were both after the same group of people, but for vastly different reasons. He had wanted the large bounty on the head of the leader and you wanted to find your past lover, but somewhere along the route to finding them you developed feelings for the Ghoul sitting next to you, and you thought he developed them too. You initially didn’t spot him when the shooting started, too occupied with the Ghoul pressing his back against yours, the two of you working in tandem. Everything happened so fast and before you knew it, you were the only one shooting back at the group of people, most of them lying dead and your companion nowhere to be seen. The bounty was also gone.

He had left you on your own and it hurt. It also didn’t help that once the shooting was over and you remained, you found your former lover in the arms of another. It’s true that you found who you wanted, but at what cost? Was it really your lover than you wanted or was it Cooper Howard, the Ghoul, who you wanted?

Realistically, you know the answer. It’s pretty obvious by the way that when you heard he was alive, you practically dropped everything in pursuit of him. Taking another swig of the alcohol you ponder over your next course of actions. Should you admit your feelings for him or should you leave it? Looking back at the tv, you watch the former Cooper Howard get down from his horse, gun in hand and hat tipped ever so slightly over his eyes, much like how the man next to you does. He’s never going to be the same man again, you know that, but maybe he still has the ability to love? “I love you, you know?”

Cooper looks over to you with a puzzled look on his face before it goes blank and your heart sinks. If there was any sort of superpower you could have right now, it would 100% be mind reading. “You’re stupid.” 

“Right. Yep. Totally.” You’re pissed. You took a gamble and lost. Laid your heart on the line only for it to be destroyed. Swallowing down your pride, you get up from your seat and holster your gun, taking a couple of vials for safe keeping. “Have a good life Coop.” You don’t bother turning back, tears welling in your eyes. How could you have been so stupid? Of course he doesn’t return the feeling. You kick the dead body out of your way, too overwhelmed with your emotions to realize that he is calling your name. A hand wrapping around your wrist stirs you from your thoughts as he hand spins you around to face him, a soft look gracing his features.

“I ain’t finished,” it’s soft. Softer than anything you’ve ever heard from him but you yank your hand away, rebuilding the walls around your heart.

“I don’t wanna he-” he cuts you off with a rough kiss against your lips, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close as his scarred lips move against yours. The kiss is rough, demanding, but also loving, intimate. It’s enough to make you dizzy. Pulling away, he keeps you in his grasp as you look up at him through blown eyes, trying to figure out what he’s playing at. “Coop?”

“Shh darlin’. You didn’t let me finish. I said you’re stupid. Stupid for loving someone like me. I’m no good for anyone, especially you, you should know this.” You can tell by the restraint in his voice that he fully means what he’s telling you. Smiling softly, you dust off his duster and pull on his vest, straightening out his clothes as he watches you, not really sure what to make of your intentions. 

“Y’know, there was this one cowboy I met years ago and when I asked how he survived as long as he has and you know what he told me?”

“What’s that?”

“We take it as it comes.” He closes the bridge between the two of you with his mouth against yours, this time it’s more eager. Taking in your bottom lip, he bites hard enough to draw blood, causing you to gasp in surprise. Using that to his advantage, his tongue slips in, exploring every crevice of the mouth that he’s longed for.

“Well ain’t this sweet. We have a ghoul and a ghoulfucker. I wonder what that sex looks like,” you and Cooper pull away abruptly, you eye the three men in sheriff uniforms while Cooper scowls, annoyed by their presence. Moving towards them, Cooper raises his hands in false surrender while you get behind his back, one hand reaching for his shotgun and the other reaching for your own gun, ready to draw at any moment. 

“What can I do for you folks?” The three men eye each other before pointing their guns at Cooper, you still standing behind him, ready to take on each of them.

“Destroying a legitimate business? That’s illegal around these parts,” one speaks up, aviators covering his eyes as he moves around to get a better view of you. “My my, don’t tell me this pretty little thing did all this damage. Why don’t you raise your hands sweetheart, let’s see that gorgeous figure.” 

If looks could kill, that man would be 12 feet under and blasted to high heaven with the biggest nuke Cooper could find. “I’d be careful if I were you, she may be pretty, but she's also a pint sized atom bomb.” His head tilts, telling you all that you needed to know. Reaching for your gun, you quickly shoot the two companions as Cooper lunges for the man who dared to flirt with you. Kicking the gun away from reach, Cooper wraps his hand around the throat of the sheriff and hoists him in the air while you loot their supplies. Turning the men around, you cut their pants off, leaving their backside exposed for Cooper to take his fair share of ass jerky. The man in his grasp squirms at the site of his counterparts being exposed, but Cooper’s grip doesn’t falter.

“Why are you sick freaks doing this?” The man continues to struggle in Cooper’s grasp, hands trying to claw away at skin but to no avail as you load your gun, sliding over to the duo. 

“Wanna do the honors sweetheart?” It’s rare that Cooper offers anybody anything, let alone a kill and it takes you a minute to process his proposal.

“We do this for the love of the game.” A gunshot rings out while the man goes limp in Cooper’s hand, brains splattered on the floor below you. Dropping the man, Cooper’s eyes flit to your body, chest rising and falling as you come off the adrenaline high. 

“Now that was hot as hell sweetheart. You sure know how to make an impression on an old man.” 

“Is that right?”

“‘m afraid so.” His eyes watch as you begin to unbuckle your armor, letting it fall from your frame to the floor.

“Then come and get me cowboy.”

@reveluving

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Just Gojo Satoru Obsessed With Pussy

Fem!reader, brain rot about Gojo being obsessed with your pussy 😩

Gojo. Who can't help but think about taking part in the delicious decadence that is your pussy first thing in the morning. Mind immediately consumed with slipping your pretty little panties down your thighs and diving in.

Gojo. Who is relentless, long slender fingers parting your pussy lips as he admires how wet you are. "So wet for me, aren't you pretty girl?" He'd chuckle, spitting on your wet cunt before massaging it in. His thumb barely brushing against your clit.

Gojo. Who buys you pretty little skirts, ones that are obviously too short. Simply so he can see the clothed outline of your pussy when you inevitably bend over. His fingers grazing against it, only giving you a shrug when you slap his arm. Reminding him that you're in public.

Gojo. Who has that same skirt flipped up and resting on your back. Your hands splayed against the wall because he couldn't help but eat you out. Tugging you to a discreet corner, burying his face into your heat. His free hand palming at his strained dick, begging to be inside you.

Gojo. Who has your pussy on display before he slides his dick inside. Groaning as he watches it disappear, being completely devoured by your-no his hungry cunt. This pussy was his. To fuck, devour and play with; anything he desired. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: There is so much my brain can say about this man 😩

Masterlist

[yeosbbm]

All cuz of peaches.

Smut | MDNI

starring: ranch cowboy! mingi x ex city girl! reader

genre: country, strangers to fuckers, porn with barely any plot 😭

summary: after becoming bored with the city you moved into your friends seonghwa and soobin’s peach farm in the countryside, however a lust filled attraction towards your neighbor Song Mingi down the hill has filled your thoughts. after letting your horniness get the best of you, he decides to give you what you want.

warnings/prevs: Readers a pervert..Mingi likes it though, Masturbation, Unprotected piv, Breeding, One case of impact play, Begging, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Sweet talk/names (if I’m missing anything else let me know).

A/N: Y’all honestly this work is more experimental and based off of a thought I’ve had if anything so this work may be off the wall and a bit…😭 but enjoy if you do ! Push it pt.2 soon to be released !!

Adjusting to country life wasn’t easy but it was definitely enriching. You moved into a peach farm and ranch with your buddies who’ve owned it since last summer. Soobin and Seonghwa. You decided that life in the city was monotonous and you couldn’t handle the cold, loud and superficial ambience of it all. So one day, you packed your things and decided to move in with them. The past 5 months have been easy so far, all you really do is pitch in with the farm animals and collect the peaches when it’s in season. Since living here, your mind feels so much clearer.

However, there is one thing that has been consuming your thoughts. You three’s neighbor Song Mingi. His farm and woodshed was down the hill from your trio. His presence wasn’t new to you because he was friends with Hwa and Soob, but your attraction towards him makes everyday you see him feel new. He comes by you and the boys house and farm all the time to trade goods or to just hangout for drinks.

And he’s referred to you with the same name since you’ve moved in. “City Girl.” Obvious cause for the nickname but you’re shocked he’d have it stuck for so long.

You couldn’t deny the want for this man. He was so handsome and had a resounding appeal. Even though he had this magnetism that drew you in further and further; you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him one on one. You felt you could only talk to him when he’s invited in by Hwa or you 3 are invited over to his ranch.

Soon you planned to go for it and invite him over yourself. But you had things to do until then….

You went out to the peach trees and began disposing of the ones who ripened too fast and became rotting mounds of peach flesh. You dumped them into the compost bin and then got ready to pick as many peaches as your crate could take for today. You picked and picked while the crate was finally halfway filled with them. However something caught your eye.

Today, Mingi was out in his own field. His hat still on but flannel unbuttoned, while his jeans hung low on his hips letting you see [almost] intimate parts of him. Your eyes are caught on his body, you can’t even view the vegetation and and lush field scenery behind him. He continues to dig his produce from his garden, piercing the fertile soil with his shovel…

You were beginning to get hot and bothered by the sight. His sun kissed tan and sweat sheened body moving in ways that make you feel aroused. The way his pants are hanging by his hips, you imagine him pulling them down and exposing his cock. You imagine the size…you imagine his large tall body over you while making you take all his inches.

Despite your conscious yelling no, you sit by the peach tree you were picking at and brought your hand to your cunt. You begin with soft presses and teases before adding circles to your clit. Your breathing is unsteady, you can’t help yourself..

The thoughts begin to be more vivid..his thrust, his voice talking you through the whole ordeal…how his hard working hands adorned with long fingers would feel pressing and curling against your walls. Your fingers are quick on your clit and your final thought brings you over the edge..the idea of him breeding you full. You cum and get your breathing and thoughts back on track.

What the fuck did I just do.

The realization rushes over you and the shock of you being this down bad sinks in. You adjust yourself and grab the crate of peaches you picked and made your way back home.

It was the next day and since Seonghwa and Soobin had to leave for a produce market deal you decided to be productive. You washed and peeled all the peaches you got from the day before, cleaned up the house, fed the chickens and took the goat out the stable to go feed and roam in the pasture until evening.

After all the hard work you wanted to do something simple for yourself and something out of your hard work. A peach cobbler. You baked it for an hour and took it out to see it with a beautiful crispy brown crust and perfectly soft baked peaches underneath. The only problem was that Seonghwa and Soobin left so you’re stuck here to enjoy it by yourself.

However you remember, Mingi is just down the hill. You put on a form fitting flannel and a nice skirt and shoes and lock up the ranch before you head by Mingis ranch house to asks if he’d like to indulge in the pie with you. Luckily, his woodshed was open and he was organizing his logs of wood and his tools.

“Hey Mingi !” He looks up from his tasks and his eyes lock on you like a target. He immediately stops what he’s doing and straightens himself as he stands. You fully walk in and close the woodshed door to get rid of the beaming hot sun.

“Hey city girl, what do you need.” He will never let the nickname go you think to yourself.

“Well I made a pie earlier and it’s still nice and fresh and I wanted to know if you wanted to come over and have a slice.” You’ve never really interacted with Mingi one on one, the nerves and his stare makes you bite your lip.

“Really.” Mingi is starting to eye you and look you up and down.

“Of course really, Soobin and Seonghwa aren’t here so who else will I share with.”

He begins walking towards you. “That’s all you want from me?” You look around and begin to notice how his own shirt was gone and belt was unbuckled. “Yea..just wanted to know...” Your eyes struggle to not stray from his face and drift down how torso. He gets closer, you can smell his cologne and musk from working in the heat. “You sure there’s nothing else you want…some sweet little secret you’re keeping from me.”

Mingi corners you in the woodshed. You’re backed up against a wooden table he made himself. He rubs his hands on the top of your thighs, he looks like he’s about to eat you alive. He whispers. “I know what you did yesterday…it was quite the show,,” He knows. He knows that you laid there and touched yourself to the sight of him. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“What do you want me to do to you city girl..”. Mingi slowly unbuttons the fitted flannel you have on. “Touch me,, I want you to touch me.” The way you seem desperate for him makes him lose patience and rip the shirt apart, causing some buttons to pop out. He removes your bra with one hand alone and as soon as your tits are free he brings one in his mouth. Sucking and nipping at them while pawing you everywhere else.

He finally backs away and sees your tits glistening and nipples hardened. He groans at the sight and practical rips your skirt and panties away. He parts your legs and sees your aching cunt wet with arousal waiting for him. He cups his hand and places it over your heat and licks the shell of your ear, before he says “Look at all this sweetness you’ve left for me darling.” Your body is crumbling, you just want him to touch you already. “Min put your fingers inside.” Mingi tilts his head and gives a sly smile.

“Tsk tsk tsk..you city girls always forget your manners..” You can’t with the games and formalities. You begin to whine “Mingi stop playing around.. fuck me.” Mingi slaps the inside of your thigh causing you to moan in both pain and arousal. “Let’s try that again but with some country charm.” He shoved two of his long fingers in your cunt making your hips lift a bit and a moan leave your lips. His fingers are filling you good, but he won’t move or curl them causing you to be limited in your pleasure.

“I’m not moving a damn thing until you ask me nicely.” Your eyes are watering, how are you being edged but you haven’t even reached the brink of cumming yet. You toss your pride away, “ Min I need your fingers so bad please fuck me with them please.”

“Mmm I’d make you say more but let me spoil the city girl for saying please.” He begins pumping his fingers in you and curling them at the right gummy spot. Soon his fingers speed up and he slips another in, making you moan and drool on display for him. “Mm baby’s so full with my hands alone.” You whine yes yes yes’s and can’t turn away from watching his fingers wet with your slick slide in and out.

He feels your cunt twitch and clench, he can see that you’re already close, he pulls his fingers out. You’re snapped back into reality and already on the verge of begging for his fingers back. He slides down his jeans and frees his cock from his boxers. He pumps his dick a few times before laying you back. He takes your legs and bends them to where you cunt is fully exposed. He takes a small lick and then deep dives in tonguing your heat and playing quickly with your clit.

Your legs are beginning to shake. He’s lapping at your cunt and making quick turns to suck and bring his tongue around your clit. “You taste better than any peach you’ve picked.” You couldn’t even properly register the compliment from how fucked out you were. He takes a few more minutes eating your pussy like a starved man before he comes back up to kiss you.

After his lips finally split from yours in a deep muted voice he asks, “You’ve got a rubber ?” You shake your head no but you refuse to let this fantasy go unfinished. “I’m clean, I’m on the pill…just breed me I don’t care I just want your cock.” Mingi just can’t resist you in the state you’re in, he kisses your forehead before he lines his cock to your entrance and rams it in.

One of your legs are wrapped around his waist while the other is hiked up against his shoulder. Your cunt feels so full, but there’s barely any pain despite being split open. The pleasure rolls up from your cunt up into your lower abdomen. Mingi can’t deny how he feels either, the pressure of your walls clamping on his dick has him in a whirlwind of ecstasy.

He can barely control himself, his cock is just drilling you and you can’t do anything but take it and soak it all in. “Min it’s so good, don’t stop.” Mingi cracks a quick smirk before rolling his hips to make the thrust more deeper and intense. “Oh yea ?…is it what you pictured…is it better than fucking yourself with your fingers ?.”

Soon he only holds on to your calves and raises them but slows down his thrust, despite slowing down, his thrust seem harsh and as if his dick just reached a new space in you. “Show me…show me how you touched yourself when watching me.” You weakly bring your hand to your clit and begin pressing quick circles on it until your hips start to stutter and lift. “Finish on me city girl, get me all wet.” He hits you with one last deep thrust.

You cum all over his cock and as soon as you do he spurts his hot seed throughout your walls. You’re both panting messes and mingi sits you up. He passes his water flask to you and watches as you drink in a hurry from exhaustion caused thirst. When you pass it back he takes a swig from it himself.

He holds you and gets a rag wiping off your sweat, kissing you on top of your head and massaging your shoulder blades.

“Let’s go eat that peach cobbler you were talking about.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Touch her and you'll burn

Pairing: boyfriend!Gojo x fem!reader; Toji x reader (kinda?)

Word Count: 2,8k

Synopsis: When it comes to Satoru Gojo, you are his true weakness - after all, you've been his girlfriend for years. Toji doesn't miss that either and takes you prisoner without further ado in order to get at the white-haired man.

Warnings: violence, death, tortue, mentions of sa, hurt, language

„What a cute little thing you are. Too bad you chose the wrong guy as your fuck buddy. How did you two end up anyway? I bet it’s because he’s tall and his special appearance, you women all tick the same way. Whatever, let’s see how I will kill you today, sweetie. And maybe we can have some fun before, what do you think, huh?”

“Rot in hell, fucking asshole.”

You spit directly into the way too close face of none other than Toji Fushiguro. The man that broke into your apartment, drugged and hauled you into this dark and dirty room that is only lit by one small lightbulb. Your hands are chained to the ceiling, you’ve been kneeling on the floor for what feels like an eternity now. Not the best starting point to be honest.

“I love my women feisty, little bitch. Listen up.”

His rough hand yanks on your chin so harshly that you can’t help but stare straight into his cold eyes which are only inches away from yours. Sweat drips from your forehead against your already bleeding nose, your body slowly but surely begins to tremble from the cold and exhaustion.

“There are exactly two options for you. One: That fucker appears and you both die while trying to save your cute ass. Two: He’ll let you rot in here and I’ll kill you all alone. If I were you, I’d be nicer to the man who’s been taking such good care of me for the last hours and who’s responsible for my death.”

“My parents taught me not to talk to strangers, especially the stinky and homeless ones. Save your breath”, you hiss back.

His palm crushes against your soft cheek without any mercy. Dizziness consumes you instantly, your lifeless head falls to the side while blood squirts out of your nose again. Fuck, that hurt pretty bad. But still a quiet laughter escapes your lips. Does he really think he can crush your will with a few punches? Pathetic. You may not be a jujutsu sorcerer, but you’re damn though. It’s not the first time that you have to deal with assholes like him because of your precious boyfriend Satoru Gojo. He definitely owns you a shopping tour after that.

“What are you laughing about, brat?”

“Just thinking about how Satoru will kick your ass later”, you bark through gritted teeth.

“First he has to find me. I’m a non-jujutsu sorcerer, just like you. So he can’t detect me by my curse power either. Your mobile phone and your pathetic GPS necklace are in your apartment, Gojo didn’t protect you with his powers. Hurts huh? Apparently the other girl's more important to him. Treats you pretty badly, don’t you think?”

You don’t like to admit it, but his words make your heart ache for a brief moment. Deep down, you know that it was his job to protect her, that he cares about you the most even though you haven’t seen him in days now. Would he even risk her life to save yours? He told you over and over that you are his priority, his everything. But…you don’t know.

Will Satoru come at all?

You sink into your chains and stare at the man and his mischievous grin in front of you. It doesn’t matter if Satoru searches for you or finds you. But you won’t let Toji bring you to your knees so easily.

His gaze wanders through the room while he casually strides around. He needs to stay focused. Gojo is probably the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of his lifetime. Kidnapping his girlfriend to weaken him and divert his attention from Riko is a smart move, but risky if Toji isn’t careful. And then there’s the fact that (y/n) is a pain in the ass herself.

“Where ya lookin’? I’m the view, asshole.”

“No wonder a slut like you is the girlfriend of someone like that Gojo guy. I’ll shut up your pretty little mouth soon enough.”

“Did you just say I’m pretty?”

Your maniac grin and disrespect catches Toji off guard. Of course he knew you would be a handful, but he’s a well-known assassin. Damn, he could kill you in a heartbeat if he wanted to, are you too dumb to see that? Is your trust in your stupid boyfriend really this big? Maybe he should in fact kill you instantly.

“I’d love to wring your throat right away, but before that I’ll show you where your place is.”

All color drains from your face in an instant, cheeky grin gone in the wind. Fuck, this asshole is about to unbuckle his belt. Your throat is tight, it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe…Will he really? You shake your head in disbelief, limbs fighting desperately against the merciless force of the chains around your bloody wrists. No, you can’t let this happen. You would rather die than allow this man to touch you with his disgusting hands.

“Cat got your tongue, huh? What’s up, (y/n)? Don’t worry, I’ll show you what you’ve missed before you die.”

Toji wraps his arm around your waist and presses his muscular body against yours. The urge to puke into his face becomes unbearable as well as your impatience. Where the fuck is Satoru? You close your eyes in a desperate attempt to calm your thoughts and breathing. Even a man like him wouldn’t dare to assault you, not the girlfriend of Gojo Satoru. But since he’s not here at the moment, you’ll just have to take care of that situation yourself.

When you open your eyes again, there’s not a spark of humor left in them – pure determination and rage draw your face. With all the strength you are able to gather in your poor condition you put your head in your neck and yank it forward as hard as possible against his nose. You ignore the throbbing pain that seems to radiate from your forehead all over your body and the nausea that suddenly overcomes you. This is not over. Bracing your body against the chains, you push yourself off the ground and kick his chest hard with both legs. His huge frame stumbles backwards while his loud groan fills the room.

You breathe heavy, sight almost completely obscure by the waterfall of blood that streams down your head. With a satisfaction – filled grin you notice his bleeding nose. Serves him right, stupid asshole. He just shouldn’t have messed with you. After all, just because you are a non-jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t mean you’re not good at defending yourself. Who does this guy think he even is anyway?

Fuck, Toji rushes towards you with quick steps, the muscles under his tight shirt are dangerously tense. Not good. But even worse is that all you can do is stare at him through your tired lids and let him approach you. Damn, he is fucking furious.

“That blood really suits you, brings out your icy-murderer eyes, y’know. Man, you’d be so fucking hot if you weren’t a stone cold asshole. Could get yourself a nice girl.”

At this point, your words aren’t more than an uncovered fading whisper anymore. You are just so fucking tired of hanging in this room and fighting a hopeless battle. At least you die in style.

“Nice show, slut. But that’s it for you now. I hope you realize that I could have just dodged your pathetic punches. Just like that”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

With a swift motion of his arm, he grips your wrist and twists it. You see stars, bones audible shattering in your body. All color that is left in your face drains instantly, a cry filled with ache reverberates around the room and rings back in your ears. You feel like you’re going to lose consciousness at any moment. No, stay awake, bark back, show him that you don’t care.

But you can’t.

His right hand clenches into a fist. As if in slow motion, you watch it move towards your face. This is gonna hurt like hell, maybe you should close your eyes and pretend none of this is happening. You at the beach with Satoru, his delicious body exposed to the sun and your merciless eyes, dipping his face into the water over and over again until he begs you to stop. Yeah, that would be nice. Satoru…You love him so much that it hurts sometimes, some say you two are obsessed with each other. He wears you on his hands, you’re the only one who can match his sense of humor and has the ability to put up with his lifestyle. He would never allow that any harm touches your delicate skin, that you get involved into his work as a jujutsu sorcerer. But today it seems like he can’t save you. At least you can say you fought back as much as you could.

“Touch her and you’ll burn.”

Your eyes snap open immediately. There he stands, your boyfriend, your knight in shining armor with his sunglasses casually covering his bright blue orbs.

“What are you doing, (y/n)?”, he questions ironically while slowly approaching the both of you.

“I’m just out here being cute, y’know”, you mumble with a small smirk.

Satoru gives you a loving smile. At that moment you just know that everything is going to be okay, that he will kill Toji for tormenting you and that you’ll meet again in the sheets this evening.

“Took you quite a while to get here”, Toji comments dryly and turns away from you.

The moment his big frame moves away a wave of relief washes over you. If Satoru had come just a second later Toji might have filleted you and you are very aware of that. You are no longer interesting for Toji, after all you served your purpose as decoy.

With a swift motion, your boyfriend frees your hands from the chains that have already cut deep into your tender flesh. Your knees meet the hard concrete floor in an instant, your body is too weak to stand up on its own.

“Come on (y/n), get yourself together and walk out of that room. Suguru will meet up with you. This is about to get pretty ugly.”

The air is filled with thick tension as both men stand still and just look at each other. He’s right. You have to get up, get out of this fucking room, find Suguru. If you stay here you are only an obstacle to Satoru.

“Your girlfriend is quite a pain in the ass. Well, at least she’s hot, I see where you’re coming from.”

“Beat his ass a few times more for me”, you breathe out.

You can do this. With all the strength you have left in your body, you lift your aching limbs off the ground and stumble to the door. Satoru positions himself in front of you, alert in chase Toji wants to attack you.

“Hit me up later, sweetheart.”

“Thank you for saving me. Even if it’s technically your fault I was trapped here.”

“How rude!”

With one last glance at you, he closes the door by one rapid motion of his arm.

You can’t help but let out a sign of relief. Fuck, this was a very close call – too close for your liking. Again your body lets you down and sinks onto the dirty ground in an instant. Your limbs are trembling, your mind goes numb. If you stay awake a little longer, you are able to find Suguru and get out of here…

“(y/n)?”

You would recognize his voice everywhere. How much you’d like to call out his name now so that he can find you and get you away from here, but the corners of your saggy mouth don’t move an inch. The ability to speak seems to be failing you completely at this point.

“(y/n)!”

Are you dying? You’re not sure. But your thoughts completely drift away until they’re utterly still. Finally rest, finally no more pain, finally-

“There you are (y/n). Stay awake okay? Let’s meet up with Shoko.”

The fear in Sugurus voice is unmistakable. His arms gently wrap themselves around your knees and back before lifting you up with ease.

“I hope you drove him insane with your talking”, Suguru gently whispers while sprinting down dark hallways.

“You bet I did.” ______________________________________________________________

God, you feel terrible. The second your thoughts begin to race again your whole body seems to be on fire. Your opened eyes get greeted by harsh lights.

“Can someone turn this the fuck off”, you mumble.

“Oh, there you are (y/n). Took you quite a while to get back to us.”

You recognize this voice. It’s Shoko, you’re with Shoko. That can only mean that Suguru brought you here. You must have passed out shortly after he found you. Your mind is clouded by faded memories and pain. What happened last? You were kidnapped and tortured by Toji Fushiguro, Satoru…Satoru was there, he saved you. After that, Suguru got you to safety.

“Where are they?”

Shoko sits next to you, a cigarette hanging from her mouth.

“This thing has gotten pretty ugly, (y/n)…But you’d better rest a little. Your boyfriend should explain this to you himself.”

“Are they fine?”

Your eyes are widened in horror. That look of worry on Shoko’s face is so unfamiliar to you that it makes your guts twist in thick fear. If something happened to Suguru because of you…Could Satoru defeat Toji all by himself? He is the strongest, right? Surely he had no problem with killing a basic non jujutsu sorcerer.

“Look who’s awake.”

Suguru’s figure is so tall that he dims the lights that irritated you before. He looks like he’s wearing a halo – how suiting.

“Suguru, you’re alright. Please tell me you’re okay”, you mumble, mouth still not able to process your battling thoughts. 

“I’m fine again. Don’t worry.” There it is, his usual bright smile. But something’s different. You can tell that the corners of his mouth don’t pull up as far as usual, that he looks overall…defeated.

“What…What happened? Where is Satoru?”

You can hear your own voice trembling in anticipation. Fuck, he would have been by your side the whole time if everything was alright. Your last encounter plays like a movie in your head. Did Toji?...This can’t be. It’s simply not possible.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting!”

The sight next to Suguru makes you nauseous. Satoru’s uniform is completely torn and blood soaked, you can detect a small wound on his forehead, his white hair discolored in crimson. And god his eyes…He looks possessed. No, that can’t be your boyfriend. You hardly recognize him.

“Satoru, is that you?”

“The one and only! I did it (y/n). I killed that man!”

He roughly grabs your upper arms and leans over you. The weight of his huge frame against your throbbing skin takes your breath away. A whimper of agony escapes your lips while you squint and screw up your face.

“Back off, Satoru, you’re hurting her!”, Shoko yelps in an desperate attempt to free you from his grip.

“Look at me, (y/n)! I finally mastered reverse cursed technique and killed Toji for what he did to you. Anami was murdered as well as basically everyone else, but I did this for you! We both survived!”

The maniac look in his eyes sends shivers down your spine. What has gotten into him?

“Satoru, are you on drugs? Let go off me!”, you cry out.

“I think we should get going now. See you, (y/n)”, Suguru interrupts and yanks Satoru away from you.

“B-But…I need answers! Get your ass back here! What’s the matter with you two!?”

“Don’t ask questions I don’t have the answer to (y/n).”

With one last look both men leave you alone with Shoko. What just happened? The girl…she’s dead? So Toji killed her after all. And the bruises on Satoru…Fuck, maybe that man was stronger than you thought. But he’s also dead, right? Your head begins to spin with all the scenarios that cloud your mind. You need answers, you need to talk to Satoru, you need to-

“You need to rest, (y/n). This one will blow you away.”

Her fingers snap against the syringe in her hand. Your eyes widen in shock, heartbeat picking up in an instant. No, you can’t sleep now, you need to talk to Satoru, he needs to explain what happened to him, why he looks so torn, why Suguru’s eyes were so empty.

“Wait Shoko, I-I need to t-talk t-to…”

A sharp stab in your upper arm. Then darkness. Nothing but darkness.

[sophiesticationcode]

How to be "That Girl" Step 1

It's 2025, and all the girls want to be 'That Girl' but have no idea where to start. No need to fear ladies, I'm here to help you. Read and save this post to look back and make sure you're hitting all your marks. (Then hit the like and follow button) ;)

First of all, who is 'That Girl'? She is the girl that all the boys want and all the girls want to be but even still, she is blissfully unaware and too busy doing her own thing to care. She is the girl who's always doing the most, the girl with a million hobbies and countless interests ranging from basic to ultimately niche. She is mysteriously intelligent and one of the most clever people you'll meet. She has an elusive yet strong and lasting presence, and she'll impact your life forever just by being her most authentic self. Now lets go over how to achieve this:

Step 1. Your body is a temple, act like it. This rule is important because it counts for multiple things. Not only does it stand for the boys you find yourself entertaining, ew. But also the food you're consuming along with the knowledge and media you are consuming as well. In this blog post, I will go over this rule and how it relates to all the things you are consuming; but, as far as boys go, that will be another topic for another day-so stay tuned. :) Anywho, let's begin. We've all heard the term "you are what you eat" and it's been taken quite a few different ways. I like to change the last word from "eat" to "consume", this helps me because it doesn't shine food and eating in a negative and toxic light. One thing about 'That Girl' is that she has a healthy relationship with food and her eating habits. She will eat when she is hungry and she will not eat if she is not hungry. That girl can recognize her hunger cues with ease and she nourishes her body with natural and clean foods. She likes to have balanced meals so she can keep her hormones in check, because that girl doesn't get crazy mood swings; overall she's pretty mellow. Now as much as she loves eating clean, she will indulge in treats and sweets from time to time. Slumber party with the girls? Order some greasy pizza and make ice cream sundaes with all of the fixings. Night out? She'll ditch the usual VWL for a fancy espresso martini. Just a cozy day in? She'll cook herself her childhood favorite Kraft Mac 'N' Cheese. That girl will honor her cravings because she doesn't let food and its nutritional value control her life, but she will also be consistent with eating clean most days so her cravings for the junk food are just naturally rare. Moving on from the topic of food, let's dive into the other things we regularly consume. Something about That Girl is that she is very aware of the knowledge she searches for and takes in. I'm not really talking about school when I say this, but what she takes in on her own. I've mentioned earlier that a characteristic of being 'That Girl' is having countless hobbies and interests. For example, one of these hobbies could be reading. Whether she's the type to read literary novels or non fiction, she is very particular with what information she will ingest. What does she need to learn? What does she need to hear? What is she looking for? An escape or a reality check? Another way that girl is particular with what it is she consumes is with the media. We live in the digital age where there's a billion worlds and perceptions that we have access to with our fingertips. The world (the internet) is literally in our hands. In order to become that girl, you have to have high standards for the media you spend your time on. Be aware of these three things: How does this content make you feel? How does this content inspire you? What kind of person is the creator of this content? If the content has passed the test with positive answers, you may proceed indulging in your screen time; if not, you're just wasting time rotting your brain and if you find yourself okay with that then you might as well give up with your 'It Girl' journey now because these are just the fundamentals. Your inner world is the ultimate reflection of your outer world. If your mind, body, and spirit don't get the proper nourishment, your reality won't receive the desired flourishment. There is so much more to this rule that I will happily go more into depth with this coming Tuesday with my weekly episode. Thank you for reading this post, and goodbye for now my gorgeous people! <3

[chericherilvr]

cries of loneliness

summary: drastic measures have to be taken when no one is around. or that time you called your n1 nemesis Seungmin, cause you had no one else. w/c: 1k warnings: hurt/comfort, yeah so reader is going through it (panic attack related things, reality being distorted by the brain, feelings of loneliness. Also they talk badly to themselves and that bad self-talk is written on the fic, so do not read if it's too much for you rn or at any moment of the fic) comfort but comes in a bit later, cursing, not proof read a/n: girl (gn) I'll be honest this is just pure revenge, I don't even know why a fic is revenge… but it is. also a reminder to self that spite and chaos does motivate me a shit ton, look at me writing again. also I want to apologize cause I truly didn't mean to pop-off this hard with the angst… like I'm legit wowed at myself,, anyways @raeisms this is for you <3

There's nothing sadder than the cries of loneliness.

You're alone when you're next to people. Their words melt as a distant whisper, a disconnection that, once you log off, you lose all rights to log back in. Their eyes only search for pity out of yours. All of their human bodies seems miles away, their breath doesn't reach your skin, their soul doesn't meet yours.

You're all alone when the doors are open, yet no guests come into your house. The baked badly frosted cake is on the counter, and you can do nothing but watch it rot out. The walls don't sing happy tunes of laughter, and the ghosts of this haunted nightmare left long ago.

You're alone when you look into the mirror. Gaining courage to look into your eyes, nothing stares back at you. No smile to greet you when you say hi. No love that meets you when things are hard. You can reach out and touch it, but even the mirror rejects you back; its lifeless surface isn't hot nor cold. Instead it's numbness, one so painful it cuts like glass.

You're alone even when you act like you aren't. You can think as hard as you can that the room is filed with people. They may talk back for a second, you may reply to them once. But at some point they fade. And the walls behind them aren't human enough. Your brain even rejects your need for humanity. It gives nothing. Leaves you praying to have demons haunting you. Maybe they would leave too.

There's nothing sadder than to wish for problem.

To wish your hands were tied as reality stabs you. Wishing life to punish you for a crime you never committed. But oh so let me feel something, anything. To wish for danger because the possibility of living in a limbo filled with nothing, alone, scares you. A fate worst than death: A living being that doesn't have someone to share life with.

It's pathetic, really. That's the only thought going on your head. You don't dare to have another. You don't dare to have your heart divided—thus your brain has sentenced you to loneliness.

It's pathetic, but it's the only way.

The walls closed in so long ago, and their claustrophobic enclosure is the only thing holding you together. Breath control exercises stopped working twenty-five minutes ago. The reality check worked well, until you couldn't hear more than just your cries, no sing of life making its way to you. Writing just snapped your pencil in half. And, when frantically looking around your room for help, the framed picture of friends blurred itself into it being just you on it. You haven't dared to open your eyes since.

A trembling breath. Pathetic. One eye open, fixed on your phone. So pathetic. His contact being first. Fucking pathetic. And so you call, and get consumed by the darkness of your eyelids.

It rings once.

And twice.

And the song won't fucking stop.

And it goes for a fourth one, the threat of hope slipping past your fingers. As if, in despair, your heart was able to build up enough courage to feel again. Just for him to let it crush. And so the phone keeps on ringing, and the world doesn't stop. And a tear hits the hang-up button, just as his voice starts to ring out.

"What the fuck do you want?"

And a choke goes past your lips. Reality crashes as a reminder, the fog of your own jail escaping through a vent. I'm not alone. Next comes the feeling of your clothes, and you cry at feeling the texture touching your fingertips. You sob when you feel your skin.

"Y/n… Are you… Are you okay?"

The lungs go next, able to breathe just for one second, the walls around you opening path for cold air. I can breathe.

"Where are you? Are you home? Are you okay?"

And then it happens. You don't believe it at first. Your hand slowly reaches your neck, two fingers, and you check… I'm alive. You whisper as you find your pulse. I'm fucking alive. I'm human and I'm alive.

"I don't know where you are, but I'll find you. Stay still and don't hang up."

You're not sure how long you've stayed crying on that line. But knocks come through your door, and your body jumps after a delay—not used to existing with things that could make you feel.

"It's me open up please," Seungmin's voice is doubled, ringing close to you and out the door. "Please y/n, I know you're in here. Please tell me you're okay."

You're also not sure when your body gained strength to speak again. Although, when your voice comes out dry and short, maybe weakness still lingers around.

"C-can't. Move." You whisper into the darkness. Praying it would reach Seungmin, praying it could travel through space and reach another soul.

Silence meets you not long after. Your hand snaps to your arm and grab it tight. Please no, don't go. Please.

"Hey," his steps approach lightly. Not sure how when the box is so small. "Hey please open your eyes, you're safe."

There's nothing sadder than your brain playing tricks on you. The same thing you should call home, that you should call you, stabbing you where it hurts the most. The amount of strength someone needs to pass their fears, could equal to holding the universe on your shoulders; something almost impossible to do. What if I'm making this all up? What if I open my eyes and I'm all alone? What if it's all a lie. Yet some people can hold the universe on their shoulders and still take some more. The brave ones that know it's impossible and yet still choose to believe.

Seungmin smiles at you even when he's frowning.

"I'm not alone."

"With me, you won't ever be."

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

My personal little experiment

Heeeeere's another Jade fic hehehehehehe-

Warning(s): slight yandere behaviours, manipulation, body horror-ish

There's a weird disease going around recently... it has some fancy scientific name, but most people just call it "mushrooming"

Basically, this new species of mushrooms popped up basically out of nowhere, and people learned very quickly that they can grow on people... and they feed on flesh.

So.. it's not great for people. You've had it particularly rough... your left eye has been consumed and replaced with a mushroom growing out of the socket, and a lot of your flesh is rotting... according to doctors, you should be dead... but you're not.

And oh boy... this unique scenario you're in was about to attract some unwanted attention to you.

You sit in a hospital waiting room. You've tried to cover as much of the rotting as you can. Looking around the waiting room, you see people with various injuries. Sitting directly across from you is a small girl with a mushroom growing from the top of her head... you can only hope her illness doesn't progress to the point yours has...

"Is there a (Y/N) here?"

You sigh and stand up, being led to the room and now waiting for the doctor. It takes a while, but eventually he arrives. A young redheaded man you've gotten quite acquainted with over the course of your infection, Dr. Riddle Rosehearts.

"Hey Riddle." You sigh, pulling down your hood you were wearing. "So... how have you been...?"

"I've been... well. However, you look worse than I remember." He sighs. "Have you been taking the medication I prescribed?"

"Yeah. It's working really slowly, if it's working at all."

"Your condition is just going to get worse and worse if this continues... I really do not want to do this, however..." Riddle writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to you. "Please visit this man, he may be able to help you more than I. Just be warned, he can be quite..." Riddle pauses, looking like he's searching for the right words. "He's quite eccentric."

"...I see. So... he'll be able to help me with this... advanced case of mushrooming?"

"He might."

"Okay... well then, if that's all you wanted me here for, then... I'll be going now." You stand up and put your hood back on.

"I look forward to seeing you get better."

The address led you to... a house outside the city walls. It looks quite... overgrown.

You knock on the door.

You wait for a few minutes, before knocking again. Eventually, the door opens ever so slightly.

"Who is it? If you're a member of the authorities, allow me to reassure you once again there is nothing illegal going on here."

"What?? N-no, I... I was sent here by someone, uh, D-Dr. Riddle Rosehearts..."

Then, the door opens, revealing a six-foot-tall man that definitely gave off some... strange vibes...

"Oh my... what an unfortunate situation you're in... your eye has been consumed and replaced..." He smiles. "Please, come inside, sweet child..."

When you enter the house, the scent of damp mustiness and decay hits you all at once... the room is somewhat organised, but there is still little space to walk. Piles of paper and books cover the floor and tables. Jars of mushrooms and plants line the shelves... it kinda freaks you out.

"Now, sit yourself down and tell me about your condition. I'll make us some tea." He smiles.

"...So you've been infected with Carne Comedere, have you?" He asks, as he sits down next to you, sipping his tea. "It's interesting that you've survived to this point, especially when the fungus is being... this intense to you." He smirks, chuckling slightly. "You are quite the... interesting specimen. May I ask your name?"

"...it's (Y/N)..." You say, taking a sip of the... surprisingly bitter tea. "And... who are you? Dr. Rosehearts didn't really... tell me who you are. He just sort of... gave me a piece of paper with your address on it and told me to visit you."

"Ah, good to know he's doing that. You see, what I do is not exactly legal within the city walls. As such, I prefer people don't know m name right away." He pauses, before looking straight at you. "That being said, you look trustworthy.... my name is Jade Leech."

"Wait it's not legal-?"

"Now, if you'd please stay still for a moment, I just want a small sample of one of your mushrooms, okay?" He pulls out a pair of scissors.

"Oh, um... o-okay..."

Jade stands up from his seat, walking over to you. He begins to comb through your hair, until he eventually finds a tiny mushroom, and he uses the scissors to cut it from your body.

"Why not just take the one from my eye...?"

"Well, you see, that one is in a very sensitive spot... who's to say what damages I could cause if I were to take that one out!" He sighs and pats you on the head a few times. "We wouldn't want that, correct?"

"...I-I guess I see what you mean..."

He takes the "sample" and brings it over to what you assume is his kitchen, and he begins to observe it.

"Yes... yes, it's quite interesting... Carne Comedere, the flesh-eating mushroom... you have quite an advanced variant..." He places the knife down on the counter, and cuts it in half. "It's so strange that you've survived to this point. I'd love to study you... but of course, you're counting on me to cure you... so perhaps I will not!"

You don't like the way he worded that...

The days go by and you keep visiting Jade.

He keeps taking samples from you... the mushrooms, your skin, your blood... he keeps giving you strange substances, but you aren't getting any better...

One day, you decide to confront him about it.

"Hey Jade, I... I'm not getting any better." You tell him. "Nothing you're doing to me is working..."

"Oh really? What a shame." He smiles deviously. "Here, lease have some of this meat."

"What-? No! Tell me why I'm not getting any better!"

"Why should I? You should trust me. I'm your doctor, after all." HE pauses for a moment. "Well... actually, I am not legally allowed to call myself a doctor... I suppose I'm more of a healer... regardless, you should just trust me."

"Not until you tell me why I'm not getting better..."

"You're sure you want the truth?"

...

"Fine then. I've decided not to cure you."

"WHAT-?! Why the hell not?!"

"I want to see how far it will progress. I want to see the extent of what your body can survive… after all, you've survived much longer than anyone would in your condition… so I'd like to test your limits." He hands you the plate of meat. " Now, we need to make sure the mushrooms inside you continue to live, as such you must have protein to build more flesh and muscle for it to feed on… of course I'll provide you other foods every now and again to keep you alive and healthy, but for now it's important I feed you meat. Enjoy."

"But you told me you would cure me-!"

Jade shoves the piece of steak into your mouth.

"Oh goodness, no. Not in your state. Your infection has progressed to such a point that it would be MUCH more beneficial to keep you like this so we may study the mushroom's long-term effects on the body!" He giggles to himself. "Not to mention, I never said ANYTHING about curing you!"

"I-I'm going back to Dr. Rosehearts, I can't deal with this..."

"No no no, we can't have that! I have so many things I need to do to you... I need to take a blood test… and a sample of both the mushroom and your skin… and a full body exam… ohhh, I need to do so many things to you~ Now sit still."

He suddenly injects you with some kind of syringe...

You try your hardest to ignore the increasing feeling of dizziness and exhaustion...

...

But you're just so tired now...

You slowly lose yourself to the... whatever he injected you with...

"Yes, yes... go to sleep, my personal little experiment...~" He smiles in an almost evil way. "Don't worry, I'm only doing this to you for the betterment of humanity!"

Even in your current state, you can tell he's lying to you...

"I'll see you again soon, my patient."

[nithyaxx]

The Rot Consumes.

Uhh TW for mentions of murder Name: ROT!! Hehe... though, I don't care what you call me! Text color: RED BOLD ITALICS!! Age: 14 (The age of the body it took over.) ACTUAL AGE: Way over 2000+ Pronouns: Doesn't care. Gender: Whatever body it took over. Height: 5'8" Normal form, 7'10" 'true' form. Appearance: Covered in black goop and blood, lanky figure with prominent ribs, has long black hair which has mattered up, covered in little beady eyes and has a caved in chest cavity, which is filled with teeth and even more black goop. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- Loves: People getting enraged by its antics, they like to see people suffer. Dislikes: People who genuinely try to help Nithya, believes that her and Nithya are 'two peas in a pod', not being fed, people who try to stop their antics. Hates: DETECTIVES AND ASTRONAUNTS.... and family. Fears: Find them out yourself, I don't like telling on myself! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Creator: XXE he's no fun anymore. Two peas in a pod: NITHYA!! though she doesn't like to be called my best friend when I took over her body, I saved her. Friends: ...No one, I guess. Enemies: Sleuth, Cosmic, February, Dan, Syrupo, Damian, Rosetta and everyone else. Victims of the ROT. Aisriya Cvel. Nithya Cvel. Maddie Arden. Alina Cerine. May Lee Cerine. Xevin Cerine. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- Brief Backstory:

The ROT was created by XXE a long time ago, his reason for creating it was, 'to get my power back.' but that backfired with the ROT attaching onto him which caused his death. The ROT was later reported as a parasite, the news urged people to stay safe and report anyone who seemed unstable. It wiped out half of the town's population before later going into a deep sleep, and back in 2016, it woke back up with XXE, who was 'reborn' as some god. or whatever he called himself. It then attached itself to a young girl, her eyes gone and hallow, with her little sister not that far away from her, the girl's face completely gone with just a hole left in the middle of it. The ROT decided to attach itself to the girl for a reason, wanting to make her relive her suffering over and over again as it ate away at her flesh. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- I find it funny how people like to think Nithya is the one doing all of this. I like seeing people betray each other and create havoc. It's so amusing.

[lone-pine-poetry]

could you love me if i stayed broken? i swear there’s more to me than the dirt in my eyes and the blood underneath my fingernails. i know my body doesn’t look enticing halfway in the grave, but flowers are still able to grow around me. i promise my decomposition didn’t ruin everything.

i know all i am is a pine tree, all prickly needles and unable to bear anything pretty. but i’m still standing. that has to count for something. i refuse to lose anything, even myself, even when the nights are cold and lonely. could you fall in love with my resolve, my darkness?

i know, i know, my hands are stained. but i promise it’s my own blood. years of stab wounds from nothing but unsafe hands. holding my own heart until it remembers how to beat again. picking my own self up off the floor, even the nights i thought if i moved one more muscle, i’d use it to let go of gravity. i cannot wash it away, it’s part of me.

i have the tendency to disappear when things get scary. unchecked messages, refusing help. i swear my heart is full of you. i just can’t bear to look. i don’t want to watch as you push the poison into my bloodstream. i’d rather rot. i’d rather face the dirt the rest of my life. i don’t want to be sick again. i grieve the end of every relationship before the hazard lights are even flashing.

i get overwhelmed and claustrophobic. my suffering is already full to the brim. closeness makes me want to cave in on myself. i swear i want your arms around me, but forgive me for forgetting how to breathe. forgive my palpitations, my shaky hands. i have to remember not to overflow, to stop the fault line from shifting.

i am made of earthquakes. a fault line across my chest that grows worse over time. don’t worry if i look away. i don’t want you to see the demolition behind my eyes, the epicenter in the pit of my stomach. if you push my heart inside it and i fall, i can’t be blamed for the consequences. you think i would be used to this by now, but the descent gets more terrifying each time. i always end up with blood dripping from chasms so deep, you’d wonder if i’m more ravine than girl.

my mind is a hurricane. always wanting, always destroying. i don’t mean to drown you with my notions. i just can’t help but be disgustingly intense in every way. it’s something that cannot be subdued. it’s forceful nature unable to be gentle. instead blunt, cold, ravaging. the only calm is my poetry and even then, you can see the wreckage i am made of within.

grief in my weighted shoulders, a tornado siren in my throat, a wildfire inside my ribcage. arms that forget how to hold things close, feet too tired of moving forward, trauma ringing in my ears. stage four exhaustion buried deep within my bones.

if you glance quickly, you might think i’m just a natural disaster. but i can be more than that. my hands still know how to be gentle after all the fighting. i have a profuse amount of love to give, despite despite despite. i am full of strength and reluctance to crumble. i know, i know, i can be excessive, but it goes hand in hand with passion. i want more, always. my body still may be in the dirt, but i can make my bones steady if you want me to.

i am more than the ache, i just don’t know how to survive without it, i don’t know how to stop letting it consume me. would you still be able to look me in the eyes anyways?

lone-pine-poetry

[curioushappenstance]

fic title: do you like my dress? it's got pockets [chapter 5]

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[next chapter]

[ao3 link]

Summary: 9:19 Dragon – Varric Tethras loses his virginity to a pretty dwarf girl at the bar. 9:41 Dragon - The consequence walks through the gates of Skyhold. - In my childish fantasies, I used to dream of being the Champion; going places, meeting people, loving them and being loved in return, never discarded nor kicked nor beaten; love, in perpetuity, the likes of which a girl under the heavy and forceful hand of a mother could not begin to dream of, because she could not dream at all. - aka, the fic where varric has a daughter that he didn't know about until five minutes ago.

It was impossible to tell if Cabot was angry.

He had those permanent grumpy dwarven brows, pulled in and accentuated by dark tattoos––it was those brows that stared back at me now, as I shuffled my feet on the tile of the storeroom, and underneath them, dark scrutinising eyes that hammered into my skull. He took a breath.

“Could’ve given more notice.”

I hid my hands behind my back as if to hide my shame, and stared at the spot on the floor where I’d smashed the glass. My arms ached from scrubbing the wine stain out of my dress. Cabot’s eyes followed mine, and though I was taller, I felt… small.

He took another breath, a sharp inhale, for every time he spoke. “Tethras put in a good word for you.”

I failed to swallow the lump in my throat. Of course he did. “I regret that I didn’t live up to his praise.”

Cabot scoffed. It was the most emotion he’d expressed all week. He crossed his arms over his chest like they were the heaviest things in the world. “When’re you coming back?”

I fell silent.

His tone was flat. “You’re not coming back.”

I didn’t know.

I could. I’d thought about it. I needed Varric’s help, his contacts; Skyhold was safety, security. But it wasn’t home. Once I stepped foot on Kirkwall soil––would I be able to leave again? Would I want to?

I could rot away in my room in Lowtown, and no one would ever find me. Not even Varric.

“My mother is dead.”

Cabot shifted. “Condolences.”

“I’m going home for her funeral. And then I––” The lump grew tighter. Varric would have to drag me back kicking and screaming. Maybe he will, at the end of all this.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Cabot, in his wisdom, sighed, frowned, and finally shrugged. “I didn’t choose bartending. Now here I am. Bartending.”

I sniffed. “What?”

“Bartending.”

“I heard, but––”

“When I came to the surface,”––I snapped my mouth shut––”I didn’t know up from down. Thought about getting into merchanting. Nearly got roped into the Carta. Such is my lot.” He nodded sagely. “The Inquisition was something new. I volunteered. Didn’t know I was going to do it until I did.”

I gazed at his tattoos and wondered what they meant, if they meant anything at all. “And before then?”

He appeared, all at once, much older.

“Don’t get roped into the Carta.”

-

Harding brushed her fingers through the pony’s mane, her other hand stroking its neck. She smiled when she saw me, her plaited hair seeming to glow in the afternoon sun. The stables were mostly quiet, save for the horsemaster and some stablehands who affixed the ponies with their tack and saddle.

“Do you wanna feed her?”

I shuffled my feet in the hay. Varric, his head now finally free of the bandages, led out his fluffier, fatter pony by its reins, muttering something in its ear. I was taller than my pony… but only by the barest of margins.

“Will it bite me?”

“Only if you don’t do it right. Here.” She produced a small apple from her pocket, its skin the same colour as her hair, and handed it to me, the tips of her fingers grazing mine. She took my wrist into her palm, and hesitantly, I allowed her to guide me. “Keep your hand flat. Yes, like that.”

The pony’s lips tickled my hand as it lifted the apple and consumed it whole, core and all.

“See?”

“I thought it would be wetter.”

“They’re not dogs,” she giggled. “You ever ridden before?”

“I’ve seen it done.”

“So, no? That’s okay. I’ll show you how once we––oh! Hi, Bull!”

I jumped. Where moments before it was empty, the qunari now filled the doorway, his horned silhouette casting a shadow over my eyes. How could such a large thing be so quiet?!

“Hey, Harding.” His voice was low and rumbly in my brain.

Varric fed his pony and wiped his hand on his trousers. “Here to send us off, Tiny? Thought you’d be on your way to Jader by now.”

“Yeah. I need to talk to you.”

“Well, I’m right here.”

The qunari––Bull?––thinned his lips into a thin, sharp line. “The Boss signed me on with you.”

My heart leapt to my throat.

Varric visibly swallowed. “Huh?”

The––Bull––grunted, a hard look in his eye. “Yup.”

“With us?”

“Just until you get to port.” He leaned against the doorframe, which creaked under his weight, and crossed his arms over his bare chest. Three fingers rested against his forearm, the other two missing at the knuckle. “Then I’m meeting up with my boys.”

“In Jader. Right.” Varric glared at the ground, his boots in the hay. His pony tossed its head back, pulling on its reins. “Guess she didn’t wanna, I don’t know, talk to me about it first?”

“She ever done that before?”

“...No.” He kicked the floor. “Guess I’ll need a bigger tent. Get your horse, Tiny.”

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

Maybe if I repeated that to myself enough, I would begin to believe it. As it was… I watched with a tight throat as Bull led a great beast of a draft horse from the far stall.

Everything was fine.

-

It was strange to watch the fortress shrink the further we descended down the mountain path. The movements of the pony beneath me were foreign, a rhythmic sway to it that made me queasy, not unlike the rocking of a boat. Harding made it look so easy, mounting, dismounting, laughing as she swayed in the saddle.

Varric, his crossbow on his back, slowed his pony to meet me at the tail end, leaving Harding and the qunari––Bull, I repeatedly reminded myself,––at the front. They talked and laughed together like old friends.

“You’ve been quiet since we left, kid.”

I sniffed. The icy mountain air burned my nostrils. “I’m always quiet.”

“Sure, but I expected some complaining by now.”

I glared at him. He dropped the reins to hold up his hands in mock surrender.

“Careful with that expression, or the wind’ll change and you’ll be stuck like that forever.”

“I’m not a child.”

“That’s right. You’re a grown adult. You know what grown adults do? They tell each other their feelings.”

This was starting to sound like the beginnings of a lecture. How rich, coming from him. “You’re annoying, and I hate you. How’s that for feelings?”

“Hurtful, but better! What’s actually bothering you, though?”

I side-eyed Bull. His horns swayed side to side with the movements of his horse. He was larger, somehow, in the daylight––grey skin, gleaming. Even in the snow he didn’t wear a shirt, so it was no wonder he got along so well with Varric––Varric, who watched and waited expectantly.

I inhaled. “I don’t want him coming with us.”

“What, Tiny?” He seemed amused. “Don’t worry about him.”

“He’s a qunari.”

“So?”

I pushed a painful breath out my nose. Four years the horned beasts spent in Kirkwall, eating our food, stealing our people, and at the end of it all… “The oxmen razed the city.”

Varric’s eyebrows shot up. He shifted in his saddle. “And what’s that got to do with Bull?”

“He’s––” So big. He was so big, and I was so very small. Funny how that seemed to keep happening to me. Bull threw back his head with boisterous laughter that echoed off the mountainsides, and Harding, so tiny and round next to him, laughed in kind.

I shook my head. “Never mind. Whatever.”

Varric hummed, brows pulled down again, hair in his eyes. The stitches above his temple were dark against the scabbed and bruised skin. Slowly he pushed his pony closer to mine so he could lower his voice.

“If it’s any consolation, he’s not happy about it. And neither am I.”

“So, why didn’t you say no? I thought you were friends with the Inquisitor.”

He made a face akin to a man who ate a lemon and was trying very hard to pretend he hadn’t. “ ‘Friends’ is a strong word. We used to be, maybe. Not so much anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Eh. Haven’t really talked much since the Approach.”

“Since Hawke?”

He looked down at his hands, at his gloves clutching the reins. Almost imperceptibly, they tightened. “Yeah.”

We fell into silence, and remained that way for the rest of the ride.

Some hours later, I winced as I massaged my legs through the layers of my dress, so stiff and aching that I could hardly move them. I stretched them out by the fire, my blanket around my shoulders, watching the flames flicker and dance as the sun set behind the mountains and the sky turned orange.

Harding sat opposite me, and I was glad to be able to focus on her, instead of Varric and Bull’s hushed whispers as they set up the tents.

“I can’t handle another week of this,” I told her. The muscles in my legs twitched, incessant and painful. Harding reached into her pack and pulled out a small box, which she passed to me over the fire.

“It’s a salve. Elfroot. Helps me after a long ride.”

“You don’t need it?”

“Don’t worry, I have plenty!”

“Thank you.”

The orange sky and red firelight reflected off her hair and in her eyes. She smiled, and before I could stop myself, I blurted––

“Can I draw you?”

She blinked and stared, somewhere between dumbstruck and confused. “Draw me?”

Maker. “The… the lighting is pretty.” Oh, Maker. I’d just resigned myself to changing my name, fleeing to Rivain, and living out the remainder of my days as a whore on the streets, when she giggled.

“No one’s ever drawn me before! Are you sure?”

Careful to shield it from her view, I lifted my sketchbook from my pack and flipped through to a completely fresh page. From the corner of my eye, Bull pulled Varric aside and pointed into the thicket of trees beyond our camp. “I need the practise.”

“Okay! How should I sit?”

Her legs were folded underneath her, her hands were in her lap. Messy, frizzy flyaways fell across her face. “Just like that is perfect.”

She watched, her eyes following my hand as it moved across the page, so still she could be mistaken for a statue. Sounds of scratching filled the silence, the charcoal against the parchment, as I created the outline and the shape of her body, round and pear-like. The face was where I struggled, but at least this time I had a subject to copy from.

“I wish I could draw,” she murmured, after some time. “My Ma could, you know? But I didn’t have time to learn.”

“It’s like pulling teeth sometimes.” I glanced briefly at her face, matching the bow of her lips to the one on the page. Her eyes still watched, wide and catlike. “I can’t see things in my head. I need something to copy.”

Her shoulders drooped slightly. “I thought everyone could do that.”

“I can’t.”

“That’s sad,” she said. I silently agreed.

The charcoal was familiar in my fingers, a habitual rhythm learned from nights by candlelight, copying the illustrations in my books. I sketched her lips, her nose, lingering on the shading for longer than I needed to. I sketched the flyaways in her hair and dotted her thousand-constellation freckles. When I was done, I leaned back, squinted, and decided it was the best thing I had ever made.

I blushed as I met her expectant gaze, suddenly warm all over, despite the snow.

“Is it finished?” She leaned forward hopefully, trying to get a peek.

“Yes.”

“So fast! Can I see?”

Phantom fingers brushed against my neck. I shivered, cradling the book in my arms like a baby. Why not let her see? She wasn’t him. I shuffled next to her, cautious around the open flame, and slowly, hesitantly, let her take it.

Her eyes raked it, top to bottom, widening slightly, her pupils large. “You drew this?” she finally whispered.

Did she not like it…? Did she hate it?! Maker, I should’ve thrown it into the flames, let it burn just like everything else!

“I know it’s messy…”

“It’s––” She stumbled over half-formed words, and finally, breathlessly, clutching the edges of the book like a lifeline, “You drew me so pretty.”

I only drew what was there. “But you are pretty.”

She blushed, her lips parting, just slightly. “You’re… you’re pretty, too!”

I went to refute her, to tell her she was wrong. I snapped my mouth shut again when Bull’s shadow fell over us. Harding craned her neck to grin at him.

“Look! She drew me!”

He moved around the campfire, settled across from us, and unstrapped his leg brace. He fumbled slightly on the buckles, struggling with his missing fingers.

“Looks good,” he rumbled.

I took back the book and shut it tight. Her shoulders slumped. “Harding. Have you ever been to the Free Marches before?”

She lifted her gaze from the closed book and shook her head. “Until the Inquisition, I’d never even left Ferelden. I’m excited! I never get to go to a city, it’s always, you know, trees and more trees and sometimes sand.”

“Mm. Kirkwall isn’t very exciting.”

Varric plopped down next to Bull, his crossbow in one hand and a cleaning cloth in the other. “I resent that. If Kirkwall wasn’t exciting, my books would never sell.”

Bull glanced up from his brace to raise an eyebrow. “Your books are bullcrap.”

“I––I thought you liked them!”

“Yeah. I do. They’re still full of shit, though. Why are you going back?”

“Uh, Merchant Guild business. Inquisitor didn’t tell you?”

“Must’ve slipped her mind. So…” His black eyes reflected the light of the campfire. He was looking at me. I chewed on my tongue. “You two related, or…?”

I tasted metal. Varric opened his mouth.

“Of course not.” I cut him off. My voice wavered, harsher and harder than intended. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Uh, the kid and I run in the same circles.”

“I’m kinda surprised,” Harding said, stoking the fire, “you two look so similar!”

I wrestled a shout of anger. Varric shoved his hands into his coat pockets as he chuckled;

“I––I mean, hey, maybe we are. Us surfacers spread like rabbits. Harding, I’m gonna check on the ponies, can you help?”

“Oh! Okay. Sure.”

His apologetic smile was not enough to quell my seething rage and would not save him from it later. Bull watched them go with one trailing eye that snapped back to meet me as soon as they were beyond reach.

I stared back. My stomach churned with the force of a thousand boiling pots.

“Merchant’s Guild, huh?” At my silence, he leaned back and sighed. “Hey. Whatever you and Varric are hiding? It’s none of my business. It will be if it becomes a problem, though.”

I stuck out my clenched jaw. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh-huh. It got anything to do with why we’re being followed?”

“What?” I whipped my head to stare into the trees, but found nothing except leaves and snow and scraggly stems of elfroot. The animalistic groans of far-away druffalo echoed through the valley.

“Yeah. Varric didn’t notice either.”

“But you did?”

“It’s my job.”

“What, like a spy?”

“Something like that.”

I clenched the spine of my book, tighter and tighter until my fingers ached. He didn’t waver at all. His back was hunched, his legs were stretched out across the snow, so casual that, for anyone outside looking in, they couldn’t guess anything was wrong.

“For the Inquisitor?”

A brief pause. “Sure.”

“Did she send you to spy on me?”

He didn’t raise a brow, but I felt it just the same, judgement and curiosity, as his eye jumped all across my face and body, searching for something I couldn’t guess. “There a reason I should be?”

“No,” I said, too quickly.

“Mm-hm.”

He’d already guessed about Varric and I, just on a stupid whim. What more could he find, just from looking at me? Did he care enough? Did I want to let him? “If not me, why did she send you?”

He gestured, with his horns, to the trees where the mounts were tied down. Varric and Harding had forgotten what they were supposed to be doing, lazed against the trunks.

I was breathless. “Varric?”

“Just making sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”

“Like what?”

He shrugged. “The Boss is worried. That’s all.”

“Worried about what?”

“Why don’t you ask her when you get back?”

I humphed. Damned qunari. “I’m hardly important enough to get to talk to the Inquisitor.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not––there’s no––Varric is helping me. That’s all, that’s it. It’s personal, it has nothing to do with the Inquisition.

He smiled, and deep down in my gut, I feared I’d made a terrible mistake. “Okay, Isana.”

-

My heart raced for hours.

Every few minutes I would glance toward the forest, expecting to see a rustle in the bushes or in the leaves. I saw nothing, heard nothing, but this did not assuage me. Late at night, in my tent, I huddled under my blanket, clutched my dagger to my chest, and tried to ignore the cold seeping in.

-

Weather held us up, and we left the mountains a day late. The sea of snow gradually transitioned to prickly green grass, flowers, running streams of water––a luxury only momentarily enjoyed, as a storm broke us into Gherlen’s Pass.

Ceaseless heavy rain soaked our clothes, our packs, our mounts; the sky, near black with clouds, intermittently lit up with flashes of lightning far away, followed soon after by rolling thunder that made the ponies flatten their ears. On the wind there was a ringing, a subtle song. Varric’s voice struggled to cut above it.

“There shelter nearby?! A village, something?!”

“Not for miles!” Harding yelled. The trees sheltered us, but when lightning struck she jolted and scrutinised the sky like it would fall down upon us. She rode next to me, clutching the lead rope of my pony to stop it from veering.

Varric swore. His hair was undone, plastered to the back of his neck. My plaits dripped water down my back.

“We gotta find something! We can’t ride in this shit!”

Bull’s head swung side to side, searching for something off the road. The river nearby roared downstream and past it, I listened.

“There’s… there’s a cave!” I called, barely audible even in my own ears. “Just past the river!”

Varric shielded his eyes with his hand. “I don’t see it! Are you sure?!”

“If we cross, we’ll find it! Trust me!”

Bull steered his horse off the path. He didn’t have to yell to be heard. “Let’s set up camp. My everything is fucking soaked.”

The cave was hidden away under a small, mossy alcove. Rain ran off the edge of the cliff like a thousand tiny waterfalls, enclosing us in like a solid wall. Varric laid his crossbow against the wall and stripped off his soaked coat, which had done nothing to protect his shirt underneath.

“How’d you know this was here?” he asked me, quietly, voice rasping more than usual now he was no longer yelling. Harding and Bull tended to the mounts in a far corner, a dark and dry spot for them to rest in.

I considered lying. It would not be the first time. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“No?” He raised an amused brow. His fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt, pulling at but not undoing them. He’d freeze if he left it on. “You’d be surprised, kid.”

I sat against the wall. My sketchbook was still dry, thank the Maker, and only the outermost layer of my blanket was damp.

I kept my voice soft and quiet. “I could hear it.”

A brief pause. “Pardon?”

“The Stone.” It was faint. Weaker by the year. I never even thought about it anymore; there was no point mourning something I was always destined to lose. My face burned the longer he stared at me, toying with those buttons, his expression that of dazed bewilderment; his voice was breathless.

“You’re shitting me. How?”

How did I breathe? How did I sleep? It was just something that happened. I shivered; every article of my clothing clung to me like a drunkard at a bar. Varric reached out and took my cold, clammy hands into his.

“You’re freezing. Let’s… let’s get you warm, kid.”

-

Everyone shed themselves of their outermost layers and laid them out to dry. I bundled myself inside my blanket and watched the weak fire, built from scavenged deadwood and twigs that were dry enough to burn. 

I raked my fingers through my hair, pulling the plaits loose and detangling the knots, and hummed to myself. Harding, in her shirt and braies and not much else, shuffled up next to me.

“Pretty song,” she said.

I nodded, my eyes half-lidded. The fire crackled. “It’s a lullaby, I think.”

“Did your Ma sing it to you?”

“Oh… no. There was this older girl near where I lived as a child. She used to sing to the rest of us. There are supposed to be words…”

“You don’t know them?”

“It was in dwarven.” A small smile tugged on my lips. “I’m no good with languages.”

“Mm, I only know some words. Atrast…” She scrunched up her forehead. “Atrast…”

“Atrast vala.”

“Yes! Yes, that was it. And that’s ‘hello’, so atrast tunsha was ‘goodbye’, and… and that’s all I can remember.”

“Oh, no, that’s all of them.”

“Ha! That would make it easier, huh?”

I draped the damp, oily mess of my hair over my shoulders and dropped my hands to my lap. “My name means lyrium.”

“Really? …Were your parents miners?”

I snorted. “No. I don’t know why my mother picked it.”

“It’s pretty. I like it. Oh! Maker, I almost forgot.” From a pocket, she produced a small, folded up piece of parchment, and jumped up to her knees. “You did that really pretty drawing of me. So I wanted to try. Draw you, I mean.”

“Draw… me?”

She bit her lip. The parchment was in my hand before I could blink. Small, jagged, ripped at the edges, like from a scroll. I unfolded it.

I expected to hate what I saw.

Not her art, but my face, the face that was never really mine at all. I expected to look down and see Varric’s hard eyes staring back at me.

The woman on the parchment was round and soft. Her smile was gentle, her eyes were bright, and her hair fell over her shoulders in thick waves. She wasn’t me, how could she be? 

“She’s very pretty,” I sniffled. “Aha––are you sure it’s me?”

“Of course! I know it’s not perfect, but––”

Her art, her messy, smudged sketched was not refined, nor even good, but—“I love it.”

“Well…” Harding hid her toothy, beaming smile behind her hand. “You can keep it, if you want.”

I ran my thumb along the parchment’s jagged edge. “Thank you.”

-

The storm died down by morning, and the river was peaceful. I bent down on the algae-stained rocks, my feet bare, uncorking my waterskin to fill it. 

I liked being out here alone, with the cool air, the scent of forest and wild vegetation. The Waking Sea always smelled of salt and fish, when it didn’t smell like smoke, but this was crisp, earthy, herbal at times—and for now, until we were ready to leave, I had it all to myself. I dunked my hand into the water and watched the current split around my wrist.

Mother would’ve scolded me for lingering; get up, stupid girl, the world won’t wait for you. Maybe she was right, but she wasn’t here, and I didn’t hear anyone else calling my name. 

I heard almost nothing at all.

No birds, no distant druffalo. Just the rush of water, my thoughts, my breath deep in my chest—and heavy boots on the rocks of the bank.

A hand fisted my hair and shoved me down into the racing current. 

[jungkoode]

I’m kinda scared to ask but a post where notes go up slowly for a few days and then pick up after a while when people decide to come back to read, does it still affect the writer a lot? (In terms of algorithm) because the readers do push it up again at the end ?

I guess it’s probably worse when notes stay same for days with no to minimal changes

Aww don’t be scared to ask!! If an ask is well intended and doesn’t contain a passive-aggressive, hateful, or bad faith tone, I’ll always be happy to reply with my whole heart. I love thoughtful engagement—this is thoughtful engagement!! 🩷

So: I can’t speak for every writer, obviously, but I can say that from both personal experience and talking to my writer moots, slow or low engagement does affect us—and it’s not just about ego or “wanting notes.”

It’s tied to this very real shift in the way people consume content now.

We’re living in a time where passive consumption is the norm. People scroll, read, enjoy, even love something… and still don’t interact. They don’t like, don’t reblog, don’t comment—not because they didn’t like it, but because we’ve all been conditioned by platforms like TikTok and IG to absorb and move on without effort. The average attention span has dropped significantly in the past decade—the average viral video length right now is 4 to 7 seconds. Like. That’s shorter than it takes to type “oh this broke me.” We’re genuinely seeing an entire generation conditioned away from any action that takes more than two seconds. And it affects everyone creating longform, effortful content.

So honestly, it’s not even our own fault—but we can fight it. Every time we choose to pause, leave a comment, reblog something we loved, or just say “thank you” to a writer or artist, we’re pushing back against that algorithmic rot. It makes more of a difference than you think.

@shadowkoo even ran a survey recently where hundreds of people submitted their thoughts, and a frequent theme was exactly this—writers struggling with low engagement, readers feeling guilty about not interacting but also not knowing how to break the pattern. So it’s not made-up. It’s not writers seeking pity. It’s systemic. It’s frustrating. And it’s very, very real.

Now for me personally… I mean. I can’t say it doesn’t affect me because I would be lying and trying to act like a bad bitch when I’m literally built like a soft bitch with abandonment issues. LMAOOOO. It does get to me!! I’ll be sitting there like, “wow. maybe I flopped. maybe I’m irrelevant. maybe this is it.” And then as soon as the goal is hit I’m like “oh nevermind I am that girl. I am worthy. the demons lied. carry on.” LMAO it’s embarrassing but I know I’m not the only one.

So yeah—delayed engagement is always better than no engagement!!! And it absolutely helps!!!

But it’s also true that early traction matters a lot when you’re fighting algorithm suppression, and that’s why it stings when something drops and just… doesn’t move for days.

Thank you for asking this though—it’s such an important conversation!!! 🫶🏻 And just knowing you thought about it already makes me feel seen. (ಥ﹏ಥ)

[kino-der-joon]

I have a question about the lore i keep thinking about…. Was richtofen actually in the MPD for ten years (2025-2035, moon to buried) or is that the result of time travel shenanigan? Bc like….. what was maxis doing for that time? What was victis doing before tranzit??

💫 A QUESTION ABOUT THE LORE!! HELL YES! I am THRILLED to answer your question!! Let’s get right into it!! ✨

💫Lore Explanation!!✨

Gather round, gather round! Let me tell you all a little bit of the story about an unlikely team, two mad men in the Aether, and a true ol’ fashioned zombie apocalypse! ✨

💫 So, to get started, we need to look at the state of the world after the events of Moon and understand each Doctor’s goals!

For anyone who needs a little recap, or anyone who doesn’t know, Richtofen switched places inside the M.P.D with Samantha and was able to control zombies at the end of ‘Moon.’ Maxis, because of his time in ‘The Crazy Place,’ gained the ability to merge his soul with electricity. Even though his body is dead, his soul lives within the electricity on Griffin Station and that’s how he convinces Ultimis to betray Richtofen and help him set off missiles that destroy Earth!

💫 Maxis’ plan was to blow up the Earth and cut Richtofen off from the Aether. Evidently, that didn’t work, so his new plan was to overpower Richtofen by opening a gateway into Agartha, finding his soul and throwing him out of the Aether from there! To do this, he would need to power up three pylons. The power this would generate would create a gateway into Agartha for him to use.

✨ Richtofen saw what he was planning and decided he also wanted to power up those pylons, but not to open a gateway. If Richtofen was the one to power up those pylons, it would strengthen and enhance his connection to the Aether, giving him absolute power!

So, for ten years these two were stuck in a battle for power and control, trying to reach out to any survivors of Maxis’ ‘plan a’ for help with their goals. Ten years is quite a long time, and this is why it took so long for either one of them to gain full power:

✨ The globe was destroyed, but there were some lucky few. Not just Victis, but other survivors that we never learn the names of! Maxis, thanks to his ability to merge with electricity, managed to get some desperate survivors to help him, but that teamwork was shakey at best. His aid either died to the zombie hoard, or abandoned him due to a lack of trust. It might have been easier to communicate with people, but to keep their companionship was another thing entirely.

💫 Things were harder for Richtofen- He could only communicate with zombies!! …Or, people who have consumed the flesh of zombies. Luckily for him, a cult had formed in all the desperation to survive: ‘The Flesh.’ A cult who banded together and tried to survive by eating the withering, rotting flesh of zombies. Members of this cult were connected to the Aether because of their disgusting dietary habits and so, they could hear Richtofen’s voice. Rather than trying to power up the pylons at first, Richtofen decided to use his voice to convince ‘The Flesh’ to kill any aid Maxis was trying to secure, effectively dragging their rivalry out for longer.

✨So, to put a long story short: both Maxis and Richtofen were fighting a turf war for ten years! ✨

💫Now then, just who is Victis?✨

✨ The Victis crew are some of the only survivors after Maxis’ failed ‘plan A.’ Two of them are just ordinary people caught up in the aftermath of Maxis’ plan. Allow me to introduce you to them now! ✨

💫 Abigail “Misty” Briarton - Misty was an ordinary girl who lived on a farm with her family before the apocalypse (before tranzit.) Her father was killed by a zombie, her mother died under unknown circumstances. Considering Misty has a ‘pack-a-punch’ line about not being able to remember what her mother looked like, that would imply that her mother died when she was very young. Presumably being alone, that meant she had to learn how to fight to survive. She met Marlton Johnson and the two fought side by side before meeting the other half of the crew!

✨ Marlton Johnson - Marlton was essentially a conspiracy theorist and a tech whiz before the missiles fell (before tranzit.) He has faint links to the Alpha Omega map: Nuke Town! His story before the zombies (before tranzit) started with him browsing military related conspiracy theories online, digging up one about a 60 year old place called ‘Camp Edward.’ Camp Edward housed Nuke Town, and the military was experimenting with androids known as A.D.A.M units there. The theory was that these androids were gaining sentience and were intended to be used as soldiers, but something went awfully wrong and Camp Edward was abandoned. So, Marlton went to go and investigate himself. While investigating, the bomb alarm system went off and Marlton hid in one of the bunkers at the site. He sent out a distress signal, but wasn’t rescued. Instead, he climbed out of the bunker himself much later and was met with a zombie apocalypse.

💫 Now, these next two get a little more interesting and they’re a bit more connected to the lore here! ✨

🌟 Samuel J Stulinger - Given the fact that he’s the only one who can hear Richtofen’s voice, Sammy’s big secret is: all together now: He was part of ‘The Flesh’! Before tranzit, Samuel was a member of ‘The Flesh,’ consuming zombie skin to survive. As to what he was doing before that, we don’t know! From voice lines, it seems like he was also a conspiracy theorist, but any references to that were ditched in the comics, so there’s no way to be sure. His past will have to remain a mystery!

⭐️ Russman - To understand Russman’s story before tranzit, we need to very briefly touch on a man called Cornelius Pernell. If that last name sounds familiar, it should !! This was the man who sent Tank Dempsey and the others into Verückt to extract Peter McCain, an American spy who infiltrated Group 935!

Pernell saw the potential of element 115 and wanted to do what Group 935 failed to do: Better the human condition. He was met with pushback from higher ups, but eventually was able to convince someone to fund him for his research. But, it wasn’t just him that was being funded. The establishment of ‘Broken Arrow’ was funded, an organisation that worked much like Group 935, experimenting with element 115.

Russman worked for Broken Arrow for at least 40 years, but possibly even more than that before tranzit, and his memory loss can be attributed to his exposure to element 115! There’s actually quite the chunk of lore that follows Russman, and if you want me to delve into that, let me know!! The ask box is just a click away~! ✨

💫Thank you SO MUCH for your question!! I hope I was able to give you all the answers you need!! ✨

✨ NEXT!! > ⭐️