#a rare non-oc post from me

[chalkrub]

drawing various beafts from bad written descriptions

[belthegore]

im normal about the wolf

[paper-mario-wiki]

you should have a special tag your all your art and your oc so its easier for people to find! maybe something like uhhhhhhhhh paper mouse??? or something like that sorry im crap at names lol, i just wanna be able to find your art and people's fan art of your oc easier!

i do have that! in fact i have been meticulously tagging all of my posts for over a decade so everything is easy as possible to find.

every audio post is tagged with "audio", every video with "video", every text post as "text", all the basics are covered of course, but i also want to sort by every majorly defining category.

the most basic example of this is my text posts tags: occurrence, random thought, question, talking to myself, with the additions of "anon" for anon questions and "ask" for non-anon. each have their own prerequisites because i like to be able to sort my stray ideas (random thought) from my journal entries (occurrence), while keeping both separate from direct community outreach (question) and the rare "i have to post 2 words that i cant get out of my head or else i'll go insane" (talking to myself).

for mashups (just tagged "mashup" of course), i'll tag both artists (here's every Will Smith audio post ive ever made), as well as the names of the songs (here's every Bonfire mashup i've ever made).

i also have a separate tag for any post that falls under a "high effort joke", basically meaning i edited something together in a program to create New Media, which is "shitpost". some mashups fall under shitpost, but not all.

okay so here's the part you specifically asked about:

for my characters, they all have individual tags.

the overarching tag on my blog for every artistic depiction of me in any form is "its me". this means ALL SONAS. any character that was made as an avatar of me is under this tag. though i also have individual tags for each of the individual characters, all falling under the "______ me" tree. for example, all pictures of Ambrosia are under the "mousey me" tag!

art is also separated by art BY me (my art) and art FOR me (thank you friend), though i'm not 100% certain ive been consistent with that specific one throughout the years, specifically because it was originally reserved exclusively for direct submissions and not reblogs.

outside of that, as far as people tagging my characters OUTSIDE of my blog, as long as someone @'s me i'll (probably) see their art, and it'll be reblogged and properly tagged!

thank u for your interest! 0:^]

[kalisburnerphone]

Amazing // Choi Seungcheol

Summary: Seungcheol doesn’t understand why she won’t let him take care of her when it’s all he wants to do. He has no idea how she found out about what he’s been doing every month for the past six months but he’s sure he can get her to agree with his logic.

Warnings: Idol!Seungcheol x OC!Solana, kinda one-sided situationship, a tiny bit suggestive,Seungcheol on his glucose guardian agenda, curve/plus-sized, foreigner!oc, Seungcheol calls her Sol, princess. I think that’s about it, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: This is part of an idolverse series that’ll be posted in non-chronological order. I’m not sure how many parts members will have but there might be instances of crossovers.Mingyu, Seungcheol and Minghao are the only ones that I have anything written/plotted for. I’m not promising frequent updates because I’m currently on an intensive training program before starting grad school but I have some free time starting Thursday so I’ll try to work on pieces during that time. I only just got back into posting my work in the kpop community after a break from it but I do enjoy anime as well so you may come across it on my dashboard. Lastly, I am absolute trash when it comes to titles and summaries so please bare with me in advance.

Solana and Seungcheol rarely argued and if they did, it was usually about the same thing; Seungcheol spending his money on her like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to do. And in his mind, it was. Seungcheol understood that she was more than capable of providing for and taking care of herself but he felt as though she shouldn’t have to with him around.

They’d met before he’d even acquired the amount of money he had today so he knew for a fact that it wasn’t why she was with him which is exactly why he spent it on her. Seungcheol in most instances believed that actions spoke louder than words and if he felt like buying his girlfriend’s entire shopping cart on her favorite jewelry site than that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

Usually Sol wouldn’t say anything because no matter how much she told him not to, he’d find a way to justify his actions and just do it once again. This time however, she refused to let him.

“Yah!! Choi Seungcheol!” She exclaimed as she entered her apartment. His head pops out from the kitchen where he’d been peeling tangerines when he hears her.

“What’d I do?” She only ever called him by his government name when she angry or irritated with him.

“Y’know what you did! I thought we agreed that you’d ease up on excessive amounts of spending that you do on me?”

“We did, I haven’t spent excessively on you since the last time you gave me an earful for buying everything in your cart from The Jade Jewelers. What’s this about?” He asks tangerines forgotten as he follows her to the living room area, arms crossed over his chest as he looks at her rummaging through her bag before pulling out a small pile of paper.

“You’re really going to play dumb with me right now? You haven’t been spending excessively? Then explain this.” She spits out pressing the printed sheets to his chest.

Seungcheol takes the papers from her hand, looking them over before ‘shit’ is whispered from his lips. “You weren’t supposed to find out about this.”

“Well, no shit Seungcheol. Explain yourself.” She snaps as she sits on the couch with her arms crossed and looking directly at him.

“How’d you find out?”

“That’s not important. I’ve been living here for six months and you’ve been paying my rent this entire time after I told you I didn’t like you spending excessively on me especially when it came to things that I’m capable of handling on my own.”

“I know you’re capable, I do, but just because you can do all these things for yourself doesn’t mean that you have to. I’m here and I’m willing, wanting to do these things for you but you won’t let me.Why can’t I do nice things for you?”

Because it makes this feel like it’s more than what it is. It’s what she wants to tell him because as much as Seungcheol acted like it wasn’t that big of a deal, it was to her. She’d constantly have to remind herself that they weren’t in a relationship. They hooked up whenever he had free time and him paying for her KTX ticket and accommodation in Seoul was as much as she said she’d allow him but Choi Seungcheol had a way of getting whatever he wanted.

“It’s not that you can’t do nice things for me, it’s just that you have a habit of behaving like a damn glucose guardian when it comes to expenses.”

“Okay, and? If I want to behave like your sugar daddy and pay and do everything for you then you should just let me. Think about it,” he says dropping in the space next to her wasting no time in pulling her onto his lap.

“I cover all your basic expenses and necessities and all you have to do is sit pretty and get that degree. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

“No. Now either fix it or I’m transferring the money to your account.”

“I’ll send it right back. Play with me if you want to.” He smirks at her.

“God, you’re so infuriating.” She huffs getting off his lap and moving down the hall to her bedroom.”

“Yahhhh, we weren’t finished yet.” She can hear him pouting as he follows behind her.

“Yes, we are because you’re going to do it again regardless of what I say right now.” She responses slipping off her jacket.

“Sollllllll, are you really that upset about it?” When she doesn’t reply, he wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head on her shoulder. “If I compromise with you, will you stop being upset with me and go back to calling me Cheol?”

“Does that compromise include you not paying all my bills?” She replies sarcastically.

“Watch it, princess. Don’t want that mouth getting you in trouble don’t you? I’ve already let you slide with the sass, don’t push it.” He speaks into her ear before lightly nipping at her neck.

“I’ll let you pay your phone bill and groceries but that’s it. Despite what you say I know you only moved out from the dorms this early because of me and to allow us more privacy. The least I can do is cover your rent and utilities, I can’t help it because that’s just who I am and you know this. Now, forgive me please?” 

Seungcheol asks spinning her around in his arms. She was just about an inch or two shorter than him so he didn’t have to do much to look her in the eyes. “I don’t want you mad at me on my last night before I leave.”

“Forgive me,” there’s a peck to her cheek followed by another until Seungcheol has pressed kisses all over her face and has her a giggling mess.

“Fine, fine,Cheolll.” She laughs trying to escape him but he’s not having it.

“I can’t hear you princess, what was that?” He teases as he grasps her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“I forgive you,” 

“And?” he encourages though he already knows that he’s gotten his way once again.

“I’ll let you take care of me even if it means putting my pride and independent nature aside and letting you pay my rent.” she sighs dramatically.

She’d never admit it but seeing Seungcheol be domestic had a tendency to do things to her. Things he’d never let her hear the end of if he knew. She’d seen a lot of different sides to Choi Seungcheol in the two years since they started all this but domesticated Seungcheol was her second favorite.

“Y’know what’s amazing?” He asks and she’s so busy staring at him that she misses the teasing lithe in his voice.

“Hmmm?” Her hands are draped over his shoulders, fingers playing in the hair at the nape of his neck. His hands around her waist resting on the curve of her ass as he leans in closer to her ear.

“We both know that I have no problem getting your pussy wet but when are you finally going to admit that me being all domesticated and taking care of you gets you all hot and bothered the same way it does to me? Hmmm?”

The way her breath hitches is enough to let him know that he’s right but he doesn’t act on it.

“C’mon, I cut fruit and we have new episodes to finish.” He says kissing her cheek as he leaves her standing in the bedroom like he didn’t just read her for filth. It takes a few seconds for her to recover but once she does she’s following behind him.

“Yah! Choi Seungcheol!”

[kingofbodyrolls]

39,5°C (Fever) (m) | pjm

When you get sick you want three things; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”) → Genre/AU: Established relationship, non idol!au, pwp, smut, fluff if you squint → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. → Word count: 6,2k → Warnings/tags: Explicit smut in the form of, masturbation (female), fingering, nipple sucking/play, unprotected penetration (they are in an established relationship, but please use protection irl), some cock warming, a lot of orgasms, fucking while sick, OC is so fucking needy and desperate and Jimin just wants to please her. → Author's note: Thank you to everybody who follows, either for my own fics or my recs - it's much appreciated and means so much to me 🥹 So, for my 100th follower milestone, I give you this; I hope you like it 💜

Main masterlist. Cross-posted to Ao3.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues as you slowly roused from sleep. 

Blinking away the remnants of dreams, you stretched languidly, only to realize that the warmth next to you, Jimin, was absent. 

Confusion furrowed your brow, a dull ache throbbing at your temples. It was as if your mind was wading through a fog, struggling to piece together the events leading up to this moment.

A damp sensation beneath you snapped your senses awake. 

Panic fluttered in your chest as you registered the wetness on the bed. 

Your skin prickled with discomfort, a blend of clammy sweat and shivers that chased each other up and down your spine. Hot and cold sensations mingled, creating a disorienting dance across your flesh. Your body trembled and you felt a surge of arousal run to your core, a telltale sign of a fever. 

A hand to your forehead confirmed your suspicions - heat radiated from your skin, the feverish touch undeniable. The realization sent a sinking feeling through you, an unwelcome interruption to your routine. 

You contemplated checking your temperature, not just to provide a concrete reason for your absence from work, but also to validate the intensity of what you were experiencing.

With a resigned sigh, you fumbled for the thermometer, its cool surface a stark contrast to your fevered skin. 

As you watched the numbers climb, anxiety held its breath alongside you. 39,5 degrees Celsius glared back, a glaring testament to your body’s turmoil. ‘Yikes’ barely covers the magnitude of this fever, the word echoing like an alarm in your mind.

Reluctantly, you reached for your phone, fingers dancing over the screen to dial your workplace. 

Explaining your condition to your boss felt like admitting defeat, you were rarely sick, a palpable sensation of vulnerability washing over you. The conversation passed in a blur, your voice sounding distant even in your own ears as you negotiated the details of your sick leave.

Once the call ended, you were left with the weight of the day ahead - or rather, the weight of what wouldn’t be. You really love your damn office job. Resignation settled in as you acknowledged that rest was your sole agenda. 

This was no mere inconvenience; it was a mandate from your own body, an uncompromising insistence on self-care.

Your thoughts drift through a dense fog, each one a weighty presence that seems to slow time itself. 

Amidst this mental haze, a singular desire emerges, commanding your attention like a beacon in the darkness; to get off.

When you get sick, you’re out of commission, but Jimin possesses remarkable resilience, bouncing back from ailments with an almost enviable speed. He might slow his pace a tad, yet he’s soon up and running again, his vigor only temporarily dimmed. 

However, your own journey through illness is an entirely different narrative. When illness casts its shadow upon you, it’s as if the world grinds to a halt - a relentless fog that blankets your thoughts and body. 

You only want three things really; rest all day, eat your comfort food and have as many orgasms as you can.

It’s a craving that rises like a tempest, demanding to be acknowledged. 

The desire for intimacy, for the warmth and connection that only your boyfriend can provide, becomes a beacon in the haze of your illness. It’s a need that fluctuates in intensity, an ebb and flow that mirrors the unpredictable nature of your symptoms. 

In a daze, you squeeze your thighs together while dirty fantasies run through your mind.

Determinedly, you set your sights on the first craving: a day of uninterrupted rest. 

As the world outside continues its bustling rhythm, you cocoon yourself in a cocoon of blankets, the soft embrace of your bed a sanctuary from the demands of the day. A season of your cherished TV show flickers on the screen before you, its familiar characters and storylines a comforting companion in this isolated respite. 

Yet, even the most captivating narrative can’t entirely distract from the persistent itch of restlessness. As episodes blur into one another, you find your mind wandering, the confinement of your surroundings reflecting the confines of your own body. 

The hours stretch, each minute an elastic band tugging at your patience.

The promise of comfort food beckons like a siren’s call, and soon, the aromatic allure of pizza fills the room. 

You indulge in its cheesy embrace, the combination of flavors a temporary reprieve from both your physical discomfort and the monotony of your confinement. The first bite is a symphony of sensations - crisp crust giving way to a burst of savory satisfaction, a moment of bliss that lingers on your taste buds. But even indulgence has its limits. 

As the pizza slices dwindle and the ice cream follows suit, the novelty wanes, leaving behind a subtle undertone of longing. You try navigating the vast expanse of social media, but it yields little in the way of fulfillment, each swipe a fleeting encounter with curated lives that only serve to amplify the quiet void within.

Your energy reserves are far too depleted to muster the focus required for anything more substantial.

In time, you discover yourself reclined upon the bed’s embrace, solitary in Jimin’s absence, your eyes are gently shut, a willing surrender to the world’s demands, while the low sensual R&B beats of your beloved ‘dirty hoe’ Spotify playlist weave a cocoon around your senses, cradling you in a symphony of horny melodies on an endless loop. 

You rub your thighs together and get lost in the bliss of the feeling. You’ve got nothing to do. Might as well do yourself.

Your fingers glaze the top of your panties, digging deeper until you reach the spot just over your clit. 

Rubbing circles on your clothed clit, you spread your legs and throw your head back into the bed, already feeling the beginning of an arousal. You can’t help the sweet noises that escape your mouth, as you roll your hips in search of more friction. 

You press harder on your clit, imagining it’s Jimin’s hands instead of yours, knowing that he would be able to make you climax in a matter of minutes. 

Pinching your clit, you let out a high pitched moan as you feel the knot in your stomach forming. 

Images of Jimin flash before your eyes, him kissing you deliciously, fucking you like it was the last time.

Beads of sweat gather along the precipice of your hairline, a glistening testament to the fevered symphony playing out within. 

Each breath you draw is a ragged melody, a reminder of the battle your body wages against the searing heat that courses through you. You set a fast pace, rubbing mindlessly, as you pant for air. 

Almost there, you can feel it coming. 

In frustration, you pinch your clit again and come undone with a scream of Jimin’s name. 

Your body thrashes around the bed, as you come down from your climax. 

Your thoughts wade through a dizzying haze, an intricate labyrinth where clarity is but a fleeting visitor. Meanwhile, your body becomes a canvas of discomfort, a sticky and clammy landscape painted by the relentless brushstrokes of sweat. 

You register an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, and discard your soaked panties to the floor.

Your body remains a furnace, its warmth radiating through every fiber as you continue to draw breath in ragged gasps. Seeking relief, you shift onto your stomach, a desperate attempt to find a position that might offer some respite. 

Your hand gropes beneath the pillow, finding the cool touch of your phone. Fingers trembling slightly, you navigate to Instagram in pursuit of distraction, a temporary escape from the confines of your condition.

Yet, the respite is fleeting, evaporating like mist in the face of a relentless sun. Your desires surge once more, a hunger that refuses to be quelled. The allure of the digital world fades in comparison to the voracious craving that commands your attention, rendering your attempts at diversion feeble and futile.

You surrender to the tempest within, rolling onto your back as your hands traverse the landscape of your fevered body, fingers tracing the contours of your clammy skin. 

They land on your already pebbled nipples, and you give them a hard tug, moaning and rolling your hips mindlessly. 

Jimin's cotton shirt adheres to your skin like a second layer, a tactile reminder of the stickiness that has become an unwelcome companion. 

With a sudden resolve, you sit up, a surge of urgency propelling you as you shed the shirt in a swift motion, the fabric slipping away like the bonds of discomfort being cast aside.

In a matter of seconds, your hands return to your breast, cupping them like Jimin usually does. 

Your fingers run over your nipples again, and you feel a tingle run down your spine. As you tug and pinch your nipples, you imagine it’s Jimin doing it. 

The way he would lick your perked buds, occasionally giving them a light bite has your walls clenching around nothing. 

You moan, thinking about the pleasure Jimin usually delivers to you with his plush and wet tongue. 

One of your hands leaves your breast to travel down to your throbbing naked pussy. 

Spreading your legs, you find your clit and give it a few rubs. 

Your fingers glide easily, as your clit is covered in your earlier orgasm. Your fingers travel down to your folds, opening yourself up more. 

Sticking one of your fingers into your warm cunt is easy with the insane amount of arousal pooled there. 

You groan in pleasure, as you stick another finger into your clenching hole. 

Rolling your hips, you begin to fuck yourself as your other hand is pinching and tugging a nipple. 

Once more, a hazy fog blankets your thoughts, veiling your mental landscape in a disorienting mist. 

In this moment, your deepest wish unfurls - a longing for Jimin’s presence, his soothing touch, the steady rhythm of his breath and the unfaltering warmth of his embrace to tether you amidst the turbulence of your body’s rebellion. 

The feeble attempt you make to alleviate your distress pales in comparison to the soothing magic that Jimin's touch possesses. It's a stark reminder of the chasm between your efforts and his unparalleled comfort. 

Nonetheless, in this interim of absence, your makeshift remedy will have to suffice, bridging the gap between your yearning for relief and the eventual embrace of his return.

You think about Jimin fucking you with his thick cock, stretching your pussy deliciously. 

Hitting your g-spot, and thrusting into you with fervor, while his balls hit your folds. The imagination, a force as potent as it is relentless, takes hold of you with unyielding fervor, reducing the barriers between reality and desire to mere dust. 

In its wake, you sense the foundations of your resolve begin to erode, like cliffs succumbing to the relentless assault of waves. 

Squelching sounds fill the room, as you finger yourself frantically, searching for another release. 

A palpable tension simmers, coiling like a slumbering tempest just beneath the fragile surface of your composure and when the image of Jimin fucking you gets too much, you moan loudly as another orgasm coats your walls. 

Your chest rises and falls in desperate rhythms, each breath a struggle as you labor to coax your body into a state of surrender.

A gnawing sense of insufficiency takes root, an undeniable truth that settles like an ache in the core of your being. 

Compelled to fill this void, you reach for your laptop, your fingers dancing across the keyboard to unearth a video - a cherished artifact of you and Jimin. 

As the footage unfolds before you, you stick your fingers into your already drenched pussy again. 

As the symphony of sounds spills forth, a captivating crescendo that weaves through the air, your gaze becomes ensnared by the screen's luminous embrace, you fuck yourself again, while you rub your clit with your other hand.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re so tight! You’re taking me so well.” Jimin's voice pours forth, a mellifluous cascade that saturates the room, its dulcet tones mingling with the very air you breathe, a sweet intoxication that leaves you hovering on the edge of delirium, rolling your eyes while you search for yet another release. 

You add another finger into your throbbing pussy as the screen shows Jimin fucking you from behind. 

A moan leaves your lips, mixing with squelching sounds from your pussy and the obscene sounds from the laptop.

“This pussy was made for me, ah.” video Jimin says followed with a slap to your ass. 

Your pussy clenches around your fingers. Your clit is throbbing with your fast rubbing on it and you insert another finger into your cunt, finally feeling a small stretch. 

You feel your orgasm approaching rapidly, with the images of your home made porn playing before your hooded eyes unraveling you.

“Fuck! I’m coming!” and then you’re orgasming to the sound and visual of Jimin releasing inside your warm and spent pussy. 

Your body throbs with a weary cadence, each pulse echoing the exhaustion that courses through you, leaving you feeling spent, both physically and emotionally. 

The discomfort intensifies, a relentless reminder of your sticky, sweat-slicked state that clings to you like an unwelcome second skin, refusing to relent. 

You draw in ragged breaths, your lungs yearning for air as you hastily halt the video's playback, the sudden cessation of sound echoing the turbulence within your chest.

Tired, you envelop yourself in the gentle glow of the screen, as you dive into another episode of your treasured TV series. You lay in your bed, naked, with only the covers draping your legs. 

The door’s soft creak heralds Jimin’s return, his presence a soothing balm to the quietude that has wrapped itself around you. 

As his eyes fall upon your prone form nestled within the sheets, his gaze deepens with understanding - silent communication that transcends words. 

Without a syllable spoken, he knows about your illness.

A gentle smile dances at the corners of his lips, a mixture of concern and affection that paints his features. His voice, warm and tender, breaks the silence, the words like a soft caress against your weary senses. 

“How many, baby?” 

The question hangs in the air, laden with a delicate balance of worry and steadfast promise that he’s here to shoulder the burden of your discomfort alongside you.

With the mere entrance of Jimin's presence, a subtle electric current courses down the length of your spine, a tingling sensation that dances between the realms of anticipation and recognition, as you rub your thighs together and bite your lip, “Three.”

A gentle chuckle escapes from his plush lips, a melodic sound that unfurls like a whisper of warmth, as he strides toward the bed and eases down beside you, his presence a soothing balm to your discomfort.

“You know it’s a vital part of my self-care ritual whenever fever pays me a visit,” you protest, your lips pursing in a playful pout that hints at a mixture of defiance and endearing vulnerability.

“Yeah, I know about your fever horniness,” his laughter erupts with a resonant force, a vibrant symphony that reverberates through his entire being, yet his approach is marked by a smirk that dances across his lips, an alluring blend of amusement and intention.

“What do you need, baby?” 

His finger traces a tantalizing path over the sensitive expanse of your ass and thighs, each touch akin to a lightning bolt of sensation that ignites a perilous shiver, sending a cascade of exhilaration down the length of your spine. In its wake, a fresh wave of desire surges, pooling on your pussy.

A gulp tightens your throat, a visible testament to the sudden intensity of the moment, while your breath catches in your chest, a gasp that hangs in the charged air like an unspoken invitation, “Your dick and your tongue.”

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” a playful smirk graces his lips, a mischievous expression that hints at a secret understanding, as his touch traces a tantalizing path along the contours of your waist as he feels his dick throb with want.

“You started without me,” he utters the words in a mock pout, his tone a blend of teasing and longing, as his fingers dip down to your pussy with deliberate intent, trailing a path that ignites a symphony of sensations. 

You raise your hips in search of more of his touch.

“I’m sorry. But I couldn’t wait…” A frustrated whimper escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the intensity of your desires and the ache for more. 

You just want to get off again.

“I know, baby. You probably did so good by yourself, huh?” 

His gaze drinks in the contours of your naked form, an appreciative hunger that's palpable, causing goosebumps to rise like a symphony across the landscape of your skin.

“Not as good as when you touch me. I need your touch, Jimin.” 

In a voice etched with ragged urgency, you plead, the words a raw testament to the overwhelming desire that courses through you, while your lustful eyes blink rapidly, revealing the depth of your need.

He seizes a generous handful of your ass, an electrifying touch that sends shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your being. In response, you groan, your very essence melting under the mastery of his hands, reduced to pliable putty that he molds with deliberate expertise.

You open your legs invitingly, showing him your glistening pussy, “Won’t you come taste me?”

A teasing flick of his tongue moistens his lips, a gesture loaded with an unspoken promise, as he inches closer to you, his presence a tantalizing magnetism that sends anticipation crackling through the air. 

His form hovers over yours, a suspended moment pregnant with the weight of desire and the thrill of what's to come.

“Since you asked so nicely.” 

In a voice dipped in seductive tones, he murmurs the words, a sultry invitation that hangs in the charged space between you, as he positions himself on his knees. 

The fabric of his shirt yields to his skilled fingers, sliding off his form in a fluid motion that reveals the sculpted contours of his body, each movement a declaration of intent. His bare chest emerges into view, an arresting sight that captures your gaze and holds it captive, a canvas painted with the contours of his sculpted form. 

Your eyes trace the lines of his delicious abs, his ‘Nevermind’ tattoo, a visual feast that leaves you with an insatiable hunger, and your fingers, guided by a magnetic pull, begin to explore his torso with a reverent touch.

He leans in with a calculated grace, his intent clear in the intensity of his gaze, as both of his hands find the curves of your breasts, his palms cupping them with a touch that conveys possession and longing. 

A moan of pleasure escapes your lips, a raw sound that encapsulates the exquisite sensation that courses through you, as his hands remain a source of warmth on your fevered form, a stark contrast that heightens the sensory journey. 

An involuntary surge of sensation propels your body, causing your back to arch with a fervent response, an unspoken invitation for more of his touch, as he begins to roll your nipples. 

He leans his head down, giving a nipple a quick lick before he captures it in his warm mouth. He sucks lightly at first, while he pinches your other nipple.

The melodic cadence of your sounds forms an intoxicating symphony, an improvised composition that resonates in the charged air, while a surge of arousal courses through you, electrifying your senses and heightening the fervor of the moment.

One of Jimin's hands embarks on an exploratory journey down the landscape of your body, a purposeful exploration that leads to your pussy, where his touch transforms into an unyielding grasp, squeezing your clit with a deliberate force that ignites a symphony of pleasure-pain.

You release a crescendo of uninhibited sounds, each one a testament to the exquisite sensitivity that courses through you, a maelstrom of sensations amplified by the presence of your already three orgasms.

His fingers, a skillful symphony of touch, bestow a few tantalizing rubs to your clit, a prelude to the main act that follows. 

With deliberate intent, he slides a finger into the depths of your wet pussy, each movement a rapturous dance that sends shockwaves of pleasure through your every nerve ending.

“So wet,” a chuckle, laced with both amusement and desire, escapes his lips, the room now painted with an intimate soundscape as the squelching echoes through the air. 

His single finger, a masterful conductor of sensations, explores the depths of your being, each thrust a declaration of intent that creates a symphony of pleasure only the two of you share.

He returns to his skilled ministrations sucking on one of your nipples, a sensation that unfurls like a velvet caress, while his other hand continues its purposeful exploration, working to fuck you open with a deliberate determination that merges pleasure with a heady sense of anticipation.

A surge of urgency courses through you, compelling your hips to roll with a fervent rhythm, an instinctive dance that strives to align with his thrust, seeking a nexus where desire and connection intertwine in a symphony of shared pleasure.

He skillfully introduces a second finger into the equation, his touch an intricate dance that navigates the canvas of your pussy with purposeful intent. 

His quest becomes a search for the elusive spot that ignites a cascade of sensations, a treasure trove of pleasure concealed within the intricate pathways of your body.

Your breaths escape in ragged bursts, a symphony of urgency that fills the air, each inhalation a desperate attempt to quench the growing fire within. 

As your chest heaves, you huff for air, the oxygen a lifeline that barely keeps pace with the tumultuous pace of your desires, all while a knot of anticipation tightens in the pit of your stomach, a tangible reminder of the impending climax.

A third finger joins the symphony of sensation, a deliberate intrusion that causes your pussy to clench around him, an involuntary reaction that amplifies the intensity of the moment. 

The palpable tightness he encounters tells him that you're teetering on the precipice of release, a knowledge that fuels his own desire.

With the dexterity born of desire, his free hand embarks on an exploratory journey, seeking out your other breast with a determined touch. 

His fingers dance with a skilled grace, deftly rolling its nipple, each movement a calculated rhythm that weaves an intoxicating tapestry of sensations, a tactile duet that resonates through your being.

“It’s so good, Jimin!” a gasp, unfiltered and primal, escapes your lips, the sound a testament to the exquisite pleasure that courses through you, as you endeavor to arch your back, an instinctual response that seeks to press your body into the electrifying path of his touch.

A low, reverberating hum escapes his lips, a resonant vibration that sends ripples of pleasure through your breast, the intimate connection between his mouth and your body forging a sensory bridge that defies words. 

Meanwhile, his fingers continue their masterful dance, striking your elusive spot with a relentless rhythm that sets your senses ablaze with each deliberate touch.

You feel it coursing through your body like a surge of electric intensity, each nerve ending awakening in a symphony of sensation. 

Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the overwhelming pleasure that radiates from within. 

Your hands seize Jimin's hips with a fervent grip, an anchor in the tempest of ecstasy as you succumb to the cascade of release, a moan escaping your lips like a melody, a reverberating chord that sounds eerily like his name.

You pant, your breath a delirious cadence that echoes the crescendo of sensations that have washed over you. 

Your body basks in the radiant afterglow of a fourth orgasm, a testament to the heights of pleasure scaled throughout the day, each peak and valley etched into your memory like an intricate map of desire.

Jimin's gaze rests upon you, his eyes hooded with a potent blend of desire and satisfaction, a witness to the tableau of your body's unraveling beneath the skilled ministrations of his hands and mouth. 

In this intimate exchange, unspoken understanding flows between you, a language woven from shared pleasure and the unbreakable bond you share. 

The depth of his affection knows no bounds, a love that transcends the ordinary and propels him to the edges of devotion. For you, he's willing to traverse any distance, cross any threshold, and brave any challenge. 

His heart beats in harmony with yours, a melody of adoration that echoes through the moments you share, an unwavering testament to the lengths he'll go to ensure your happiness and well-being.

He rises onto his knees with an irresistible allure, shedding the confines of his pants and boxers in a fluid motion that unveils his already hardened dick. 

The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere thickening as his form becomes a portrait of primal need and unabashed vulnerability.

Your tongue darts out, an instinctual gesture that moistens your lips in a silent anticipation that hangs in the charged space between you, a silent agreement forged by desire. 

“Gawd. It’s so beautiful.” 

You say, the words a sultry whisper that hangs in the air like a secret promise, a declaration of intent that sets the stage for what's to come. 

Your hand reaches out, fingers wrapping around his cock with a teasing touch, each stroke a deliberate dance that fuels the fire of desire between you.

Jimin's chuckle, a featherlight sound that dances through the charged atmosphere, becomes an auditory caress that sends shivers down your spine. 

His form hovers over you, a poised predator basking in the thrill of the chase, the air practically crackling with the intensity of his presence.

"What do you crave now, baby?" he murmurs in a voice saturated with a potent blend of desire and longing, a low timbre that wraps around the words like a silken caress, igniting a spark of anticipation in the air.

“I want to be ravished,” your hips engage in a rhythmic dance, a deliberate movement that aligns with the symphony of sensations cascading through you, while the telltale sensation of sweat prickling down your forehead adds a tactile layer to the sensory landscape, a physical manifestation of the fevered desire coursing through your veins.

“I want to cream your dick,” you breathe, the exhalation a fragile bridge between reality and reverie, as the haze of desire blankets your thoughts in a seductive shroud. 

In response, a hiss escapes Jimin's lips, a sound that teeters on the edge of restraint, a symphony of shared yearning that hangs heavy in the charged air.

“I want you to come in my pussy.” You tease, the words a playful invitation that resonates with the promise of shared pleasure, your voice a delicate melody that dances through the charged atmosphere. 

Your hands find purchase on his thighs, fingers squeezing with an artful pressure that ignites a symphony of sensation, a tactile duet that harmonizes with the unspoken desires that course between you.

Jimin's hiss echoes once more, a sound that reverberates like a whispered plea amidst the charged tension, as if his very being is ensnared within a cloud of desire and longing. 

His dick, a pulsating ache that demands attention, throbs with an insistent rhythm, a relentless reminder of the friction and release that his body craves, a symphony of need that courses through his veins.

With a firm resolve that belies the intensity of his desire, he seizes his dick in a purposeful grip, aligning it with your pussy. 

The air seems to hold its breath, a suspended moment pregnant with anticipation, the magnetic pull between your bodies poised to culminate in an explosion of shared ecstasy.

Before he gives in to the tempest of desire that surges between you, a primal force that demands satisfaction, he seizes a pillow with a thoughtfulness that speaks volumes. 

With a gentle nudge, he situates it beneath your head, a gesture that adds a layer of comfort to the impending intimacy, a reminder that amidst the flames of passion, he's attuned to your every need.

Then, in a languid dance that seems to stretch time itself, he eases into you with a deliberate slowness, his cock head parting your folds in a teasing, torturous symphony of sensation. The exquisite friction becomes a dance of pleasure and anticipation, a measured cadence that ignites every nerve ending along the way, as he navigates the delicate balance between fervor and restraint.

His dick glides into you effortlessly, aided by the slickness that envelops him, a liquid promise of pleasure that makes every inch of his entry a journey of shared ecstasy. 

As he becomes one with you, your walls embrace him with a tantalizing grip, a response that reflects the profound connection between your bodies, a fusion of desire and intimacy that transcends mere physicality.

“Ah, you’re still so tight,” 

He releases a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, a sound that escapes in a mixture of relief and surrender, as he reaches the depths of your being, a tangible joining that renders him fully immersed in the euphoria of the moment.

You savor the overwhelming fullness that finally envelops you, a sensation that satiates the craving that has persisted throughout the day. 

It's the culmination of a desire that's been building, being filled to the brim with the thickness of Jimin's dick, a union that ignites a shiver coursing down your spine, electrifying every nerve ending. As the moment unfolds, he initiates a slow retreat, a movement that draws you both through a symphony of sensations, a dance that echoes the intimacy of your connection.

He surges forward once more, a determined movement that drives him to the very hilt, his relentless desire mirrored in each of his swift thrusts. 

With a masterful touch, he discovers your hidden spot in mere moments, a revelation that sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, the intensity of the sensation causing your vision to blur as the world momentarily fades, overtaken by the overwhelming cascade of ecstasy.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants, the rhythm of his breath a synchrony with the fervent pace at which he fucks you, his grip on your hips an anchor that thethers you to the reality of the moment. 

His dick plunges into you with an unyielding force, a declaration of possession that melds raw passion with an unspoken promise of unity. 

He artfully guides one of your legs up, positioning it against his torso in a deliberate display of intimacy, your foot finding purchase against his neck in a sensual image. 

With this angle, he plunges into you with a newfound depth, each thrust a revelation of pleasure that leaves you breathless, the arrangement of your bodies a testament to the choreography of desire that unfolds between you.

“Ah! Jimin!” you release a breathless moan, a symphony of pleasure and vulnerability that dances on the edge of bliss, a melody woven from the rawest depths of your desire.

“I’m so fucking close,” you pant with each measured breath, caught in the intoxicating rhythm of his thrusts, a symphony of desire that leaves you gasping for air between each electrifying connection.

One of his hands embarks on a deliberate exploration, seeking out your swollen clit with an intent that radiates through his touch. The glide of his thumb becomes a source of intoxicating sensation, igniting a cascade of pleasure that courses through your body.

“Ah!” a breathless cry escapes your lips, the sound a mixture of surprise and ecstasy as the sensations wash over you, while your body responds with an instinctual arch, a graceful curve that seeks to amplify the pleasure within the constraints of the position. 

“Fuck!” the word bursts forth, nearly a scream but instead a fervent exclamation, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you. 

Simultaneously, Jimin's fingers continue their skilled dance, maintaining a tantalizing rhythm on your clit, while his dick delivers deep and forceful thrusts that threaten to unravel your senses entirely. 

With a primal scream that carries his name on its wings, your release squirts forth in a torrent, an explosion of sensation that engulfs his dick and fingers. 

The world around you dissolves into a white-hot haze, your vision momentarily obliterated by the intensity of the moment, as you pant in a frantic rhythm, each breath a lifeline that stitches you back to the reality of the room. 

The culmination of pleasure leaves you suspended in a euphoric liminality, every nerve ending aflame with the afterglow of ecstasy.

“Fuck!” Jimin's hiss reverberates in the charged air, a testament to the exquisite sensation that courses through him as your walls clamp around him, an embrace so tight that it borders on suffocating intensity. 

As the waves of your orgasm surge through you, a tempest of sensation that engulfs your being, his thrusts mirror the tumultuous rhythm of your release. 

Each movement becomes a study in controlled chaos, his own desire reaching a crescendo as he hurtles towards his own climax. 

“Ah! I’m coming, babe!” he pants with a rhythm that mirrors the frenzy of his desire, each breath a tangible testament to the passion that courses through him. 

With a final, hard thrust, he stills within you, his essence flooding your depths in a torrent of warm cum that paints your walls with an intimate declaration of shared intimacy. 

He surges forward, a final thrust that extends the boundaries of pleasure, his movements a testament to his need to savor every last fragment of the climax he rides out. 

The rhythm becomes a reflection of his own ecstasy, each thrust a stroke of intimacy that weaves a tapestry of shared release between your bodies, a culmination that leaves you both suspended in the aftermath of pleasure.

Despite the sheen of sweat that adorns your skin and the fever that courses through your veins, an urgent need propels you to draw him close, your arms enveloping his form in an embrace that defies the constraints of physical discomfort. 

Your body radiates heat, a testament to the fever's grip, yet the desire to feel his heartbeat against your own is a force that eclipses all else. 

“It’s hardly fair,” you remark with a playful huff, a mixture of exasperation and laughter tingling your words, “that you’re not even breaking a sweat.” 

The words carry a lightness that dances amidst the weight of your fevered state, the exchange a testament to the shared intimacy that allows for such candid moments even in the midst of vulnerability.

“I guess I’ve got better stamina, sweetheart,” he chuckles, the sound a gentle ripple that lingers in the air, even as his dick goes soft within the warmth of your pussy. 

With a tenderness that belies the intensity that has passed between you, he seals the moment with a sweet kiss pressed to your lips, a lingering connection that speaks of the intimacy shared and the unbreakable bond that defines your connection.

A blend of his cum and your own arousal trickles from your heated core, a physical reminder of the fervent exchange that has unfolded between you. 

He withdraws from you completely, a deliberate movement that creates a sudden void, a palpable absence that contrasts with the intensity of moments prior. 

Slumping down beside you, his breaths come in ragged pants, each exhalation a testament to the exertion of shared pleasure. 

The space between your bodies becomes a canvas that captures the echoes of your intimate dance, an image of vulnerability and release that lingers in the air like a whisper.

A sense of emptiness washes over you, an aftermath of the profound connection that has left a void in its wake. Your lips form a subtle pout, a silent plea that rests in the curve of your expression, a wordless request for the closeness and intimacy that you yearn to preserve. 

“Oh, I know that look,” he chuckles softly, the sound a warm caress that mingles with the air, as his hand sweeps through his blond hair. 

The knowing amusement in his eyes speaks of an unspoken understanding between you, a connection forged through countless shared moments, a familiarity that transcends words.

Beside him, you shift restlessly, a subtle squirm that speaks volumes about the growing hunger within you. 

Your thighs press together with a desperate urgency, a physical manifestation of the insatiable desire that has rekindled within your core. 

The air seems to crackle with anticipation, the atmosphere electrified by the magnetic pull between your bodies, a force that threatens to engulf you both once again in the flames of shared longing.

“Just give me an hour or two, then we can go again,” he chuckles softly, the sound a tender reassurance that carries within it a promise of more to come. 

His lips nuzzle against the delicate curve of your neck, a gesture that's both affectionate and possessive, the fervor of his kisses an echo of the passion that simmers between you. The intensity of his touch leaves a mark, a phantom sensation that lingers even after his lips have moved away, a tangible reminder of the connection that binds you together.

→ Author’s note: I get incredibly horny when I have a fever, so this idea popped into my head 😇 My husband calls it “fever horny” 🤣 I’m so sorry, am I the only who’s like this? 🫢

[paradoxbeta]

what do you think the ancients looked like under their masks?

ANON THANK YOU FOR ASKING I COULD CRY TEARS OF JOY

The short answer: Human-like, but dubiously. Very colorful, ornate, and diverse. Heavy on body modification: piercings, implants, tubes of all sorts, and dramatic face/eye changes are everywhere. It's hard to describe one thing they all are, because they're each so different.

The long answer: (my ocs are here!)

Okay, so, important bare minimums: They can have pretty much any skin tone, and come in all of the patterns and markings you can think of (whether they were born with them or had them added.) The default Ancient eye is exactly like a humans, but people can and often do get changes to their pupils and sclera/eye color. They have "hair" that sort of looks like worm grass. I figure some kinda splatoon inkling type logic applies when taking into mind haircuts and buzzes and all that. They generally have elven, goat-like, or other non-human type ears. Most if not all of them have openings in their bodies for tubes a la cyberpunk, because Ancient fashion gonna Ancient fashion.

Now for the fun/personalized part. Their faces!

Ancients come in a range from the most humanoid to the least. Note that "animaloid" is an EXTREMELY nebulous term and not exclusive to the one shown in the picture. I'm not yet sure how something like this would come about. I like to think this is a result of generations upon generations of extreme genome modification, or "animaloid" Ancients are a subspecies/branch off of whatever the humanoid Ancients are, OR they're the same species, but just have an insane amount of genetic variation. This is an issue for me to figure out another time. Regardless, there is no strict line between what constitutes an animaloid and what constitutes a humanoid. Both are bipedal and have a variable amount of pectorals/arms,* with the primary differences being in the face. There are some Ancients that you can look at and immediately classify as one of the two, but most of them fall somewhere in between, like "humanoid" Ancients with exaggerated facial proportions or "animaloid" Ancients that are just close enough to human looking that it becomes difficult to put a label on it. Trying to classify individual Ancients is often a fruitless endeavor, but having the general spectrum in mind is important.

*Can have 1-2 pairs of each: note that an Ancient with one pair of arms may have 2 pairs of pectorals but an Ancient with 2 pairs of arms cannot have only 1 pectoral set. Ancients with 2 pairs of arms are rare.

As mentioned a million times prior, Ancients are super gung ho about body modification, and things we deem extreme in human society are probably only uncommon or even unremarkable in Ancient society. Obviously, not every Ancient is making themselves into the next Rolf Buchholz. Some are more conservative about changing their body, some are more extreme. But the general idea is that not having ANY sort of change made, be it as minute as an ear piercing or as dramatic as horn implants, is bizarre.

I know there's other possible takes on the Ancients that are much more separated from human aesthetics, and I love those! But I wasn't really concerned about the spec bio-y aspect this time around. I have enough alien aliens in my roster already, so my Ancients are entirely a product of me having fun without much concern for making them super believable. Hopefully they look cool enough for that to be a valid excuse.

And finally, some pictures of my Ancients, because it's hard to get the full scope without examples. Some of these are from wips I hope to post someday, so you might see them again later. Also I'm trying to format them all nice and next to each other so they don't take up so much space, but tumblr is losing its mind right now so if it doesn't format right then whoops.

[ilys00ga]

FOREVER, YOU & ME.

pairing: yoongi x oc

genre: yandre!yoongi, doctor!yoongi, patient!reader, doctor/hospital au, one-shot.

warning: mentions of drugs (?), obsessive and manipulative behavior, non-consensual, use of pet names.

A/N: tried something new :) really couldn't stop myself from writing again. sorry.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

pitch dark night sky, bright colorful lights drowning the crowded streets of Seoul and fireworks painting the canvas of the sky. it's New Years Eve, everyone is outside. people playing here, others dancing there. even those who prefer staying inside restaurants to enjoy the presence of their loved ones in the first moments of the year.

however the celebration is, everyone is doing something on the streets of Seoul tonight.

one hour post midnight, and the hospital is still alive and cold, as usual.

"I left some other reports and important papers on your desk, I'll be helping Dr. choi for the rest of the night." nurse Jeon tells yoongi as they stand at the reception.

"are there any news on the missing patient?" nurse Jeon asks.

"nope. it's been three days and still no trace." the receptionist answers.

"that's weird. she was getting discharged right before disappearing." nurse Jeon's brows furrow. "poor girl suffered here for months and never got a break."

"maybe she just decided to leave quietly with no warning." yoongi hums casually. it's no rare case to have patients leaving the hospital with no words, as soon as their treatment ends. some are just impatient as that.

"she was friendly though, hyung. I expected a small goodby, to be honest." yoongi snorts with an eye roll at the younger's pout. he is naturally social, this one, he likes to befriend the patients to make them feel as comfortable as their healing process requires, and maybe a tiny bit more.

yoongi, on the other hand, is less social and more professional. he likes to focus only on his job and to smoothly terminate his missions.

"she was your patient, though, are you not even slightly worried, hyung?" he added.

"she's probably having a blast now, Jeon, it's new year's eve in the outside world. now, you get going." with a last pat on the nurse's back, yoongi bids his goodbye and leaves to the upper floors.

he passes by sleepy rooms, walking through long, white corridors with his hands tucked in the pockets of his white, neat knee-length lab coat. there's barely any people at this hour in the hospital, so any loud noise can be ten times louder in the thick, silent air of the night. he hums a random melody he grew fond of in the past couple of days as quietly as he can.

finally, he reaches a door. twisting the knob and entering his much warmer office, in which he barely lets anyone save from his nurses and very few collegue-friends.

unwanted presence means unwanted curiosity, which leads to unwanted questions and feelings.

ever so quietly, he removes the stethoscope hanging from the back of his neck and down to his chest, then puts it atop the desk. he always avoides touching the silver parts because of how annoyingly cold they usually get, despite the awake radiators that are distributed everywhere in the building.

bending towards one of the drawers, he opens it, pulls a key and a filled needle out, then heads to open another door inside the office. a door strictly forbidden for anyone except from himself.

every time the very few people that are allowed inside the office ask about that door, he says it's the private room in which he uses for resting and personal time when his shift hours get crazy.

a wave of relief washes over him upon stepping in.

the space is almost empty, limited in furniture. there's darkness, a small lamp on a small night stand right next to a bed, a heater, and there's a body.

someone is lying on that bed.

you are lying on that bed. small form, unmoving limbs, resting pale face, closed eyes, dark circles, dry lips... it would've been easy to assume that your soul had already left and rose high up to the skies if it weren't for the faint raise and fall of your torso.

a low melody, the same one he was humming a few minutes ago, can be heard as well. almost non-audible, not to grab any external attention or... disturb your deep, deep slumber.

yoongi smiles as he slowly sits on the edge of the bed, so careful as if you'd wake up at the smallest of mouvements.

the faint yellow lights of the lamp shone gently on your face, making him lift his hand to caress you skin and stare. thoughtless and content. just staring.

a few moments pass by and he snaps out of his hase, remembering what needs to be done first and before anything else.

he grabs the needle with one hand and holds your wrist in the other. he's so gentle with his touch. so gentle as if to apologize for what he's been doing to you.

"it's time for your shots, pertal." he whispers to your unconscious body. "I'm helping you sleep soundlessly, with no worries or corrupt thoughts."

the needle stabs your skin and pushes the drug into you vein.

"it's been three days, my love. I love having you here, you know?" he pulls the needle out and puts it in his pocket.

"people are looking for you. they want to take you away from me. like you wanted to leave and go away.. far away.. and leave.. I won't let that happen." his face eyes grow sharper as his words become saltier, but his voice stands soft and calm.

he lays down to face your stomach and hugs you. he hugs you tight and close, afraid you'd jump out of the bed and run away at any given moment. as if you could even lift a finger in your condition.

yoongi closes his eyes shut and inhales deeply, allowing your scent to settle into his lungs, locking it there and in his brain as well so he could remember it when he's away from you, doing whatever shitty thing his job makes him do during his shift.

"I can't let you go. I know you're a good little thing. nothing will change between us as long as you behave and stay with me. like this. forever."

"it's you and me forever, darling."

[littlelostmabari]

Day 2: Armor

Ok maybe I am doing #Veilguard30, whoops. Cullen / Non-Inquisitor Mage OC, established relationship.

Rating: T (lyrium addiction, references to death)

Word Count: 1500

I wrote this thinking about Saoirse from my fic One of the Good Ones, but her name doesn't appear. The POV is not described other than she/her pronouns. Inky in this universe is (spoilers) a bit of a shit. Also don't @ me about Cullen w/ a mage, it makes sense in OotGO 🙃

"The Commander sleeps in his armor."

He'd heard the joke before. Every day. For weeks.

He heard it as he stomped across the battlements to the Herald's Rest for a bite of stale loaf too early for even the kitchen staff to be awake. Someone whispered as they left his office late into the night, when the only other waking minds were the soldiers too ill-behaved or unlucky to be posted during daytime when visiting nobles could bear witness to their antics. Varric mentioned it offhand on a random Thursday in Wintermarch when the Commander had stormed through the main hall of Skyhold to another inane meeting with the advisors and this woman who liked to call herself Inquisitor.

The dwarf thought he was original.

No, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Commander of the Armies of the Second Inquisition, former acting Knight-Commander of the Circle at Kirkwall, formerly of Honnleath in Ferelden, did not sleep in his armor.

The truth was, he barely slept at all.

She closed the door, gently clicking wood and iron to shut herself away from the moonlight. Inside, three pairs of candles lit every available surface. One pair flickered on the table closest to the ladder to illuminate the path for runners between this office and the atrium of the elven apostate. Another pair were dimmer on the desk that she sometimes occupied when she helped him with supply ledgers.

The final pair, and the ones most frequently replaced, lit up the large wooden desk that formed the center of the Inquisitions armies. That desk was storied with symbolism and the weight of the duty of — oh who was she kidding. The desk was heavy as shit, and she knew because she and Sera had tried to stuff a small wooden wedge underneath it and their combined strength could barely shift the dust that accumulated along the edge. Fortunately the Iron Bull could be bribed.

Anyway, what was she looking at? Oh right, the candles.

Or more truthfully, the man whose face was lit up by the flicker of light. He was sitting, at least, a hand mulling about his three-day-old scruff. The shadow of yet another piece of paperwork struck an odd angle against his cheekbones and across the side of his nose, such that the emotions across his mouth and jaw were unreadable.

He hadn't looked up when she entered, but that wasn't unusual. Even this late at night, patrols and runners moved through his office with stunning regularity; unless something registered a threat or asked intentionally for his attention, he rarely got distracted by the doors anymore. She normally would take her time moving about the office, decluttering, dusting, replacing books back onto bookshelves in the way he had taught her because no, alphabetical order does not suffice, otherwise Genitivi's works would be too far away from the rest of the Chant.

Tonight, however, his hand wasn't just mulling across his three-day-old scruff, and he wasn't just holding yet another piece of paperwork up to the light. His fingers dug into both paper and flesh, tearing where they could and intenting where they couldn't. Eyes wide, she stepped carefully into his vision before moving closer. She was desperate not to startle him.

"Cul," she said softly, her murmur just barely louder than a whisper. "Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

His eyes betrayed him.

His hand fell from his mouth, leaving small red splotches and soft lines where the leather and the seams of his gloves dug into the skin of his cheeks. He dropped the list onto the table, and sat back with a smile that would have looked natural to those who did not know him. He stretched and rolled his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension in his back and spine, but the creak of leather in need of conditioning suggested that he had spent too long hunched in thought. The wood of the chair legs scraped against stone.

"Hey, Pup, you're early," he murmured in return, one hand leaving his lap and stretching out, welcoming her to take its place. She obliged, sweeping one leg in between his and perching on his left thigh. She could enjoy at least this one of the only parts of him not covered in steel.

"I'm late, Cul. The three bell patrol just came through, and you," — she clicked a nail against his breastplate — "are supposed to be in bed."

He grimaced at the thought of his tardiness, but his eyes betrayed him again. They looked into her face without seeing, and then back down at the paper.

"Those we lost at Adamant," he answered the question she didn't ask. "Inquisition and Wardens."

She reached lingering fingers across the desk to the paper and pulled it just close enough to see that the list was too long. She reached a little farther and flipped it upside down in an attempt to hide it from his gaze, but the list only continued on the other side. He shared her grimace.

"Too many mistakes," he whispered, as if saying it made it reluctantly true. "The Inquisitor didn't bother with the battlements, and sentenced all the Wardens she met to death. Even those willing to lay down their arms. The report from Straud was damning". He made to slam his fist down on the table, but hesitated in the nighttime hours. "If I had been… if I had been at my best, Pup. If I had been focused…"

She pressed her lips gently to his forehead and let them linger. A small incantation left under her breath when she finally pulled away, and she could see the ripple of restoration magic echo down from his forehead to his neck, through his torso, and down to the hands that had started to shake.

"Lyrium might have saved a couple of them, Cullen." Her eyes looked deep into his, where the wrinkles looked ever so slightly shallower. "But you are saved without it. And the Inquisition needs you, Cullen. The best version of you."

"And I am better without Lyrium."

A couple years ago the statement would have been snarled with a snide grin or a sing-song lilt. He would have mocked her, while in the throes of withdrawal. Today it was emboldening, a mantra. He didn't quite yet believe it, but he no longer thought her entirely wrong.

She held him, palm against his cheekbone and fingers nustled in his hair, her forehead to his, until he found his way back to her glade of calm. Then, wordlessly, she rose with her hand on his, and moved them both away from the desk and towards the ladder, and with four candles snuffed, he followed her up into the loft.

The routine was a nightly ritual when they were both at Skyhold in the cramped attic they shared. When either slept alone, they each found themselves a little lost in the moments before bed, missing the parts of their night where touch was shared.

He never let her remove his boots and cuisses. They were almost always filthy, and he thought more of her than to have her wash his feet (even as she protested that they were his feet so she loved them anyway). His hands worked the buckles at his shoulders, where she was just barely too short to reach comfortably, while her nimble fingers worked their sisters on the sides of his torso. He would watch as she removed his bracers, breathing in the scent of her hair. Sometimes he let her remove his gloves, but more often than not she would ask him to pull them off with his teeth while he watched her climb into their bed. There was something primal about him ripping the final pieces from his body, sometimes wrapping items like his fur pauldrons around her, that made her dizzy with need.

But tonight was quiet in both mind and spirit. She brushed her lips against the parts of skin that she uncovered, replacing them with the gentlest of fingertip touches as he placed the pieces on the armor stand with ritual born of unannounced spot checks and stern commanding officers. The rest of his armor, clothes meant for the laundry and leathers in desperate need of new conditioning, were piled neatly next to the stairs for attending to tomorrow.

The moonlight she had shut out so long ago peeked in through the hole in the roof that neither of them wanted to fix. The oblique angle spread a path of silky white across two bodies that tangled themselves together under lightweight blankets, weaving legs over and under and arms across chests and under necks until neither knew where they ended and the other began. With her restoration magic quieting the simmering under his skin, sleep came quickly.

The morning did too.

And, as he did every morning, the Commander of the Inquisition's forces woke before the sun. It had no chance to gleam across steel and fur, even through the hole in the attic roof, until it was already on his body and he was striding across the battlements for a bite of stale loaf.

[waterthatsmoe]

Mizu's navigation guide

Hello visitor! You have stumbled upon my art page!

☆ water = 水 = mizu ☆, so you can call me Mizu!

I mainly focus on Twisted Wonderland fanart, specifically the first years and their dynamics! May occasionally dive into other fandoms for crossover arts

Tagging system:

[ Art Tags ] 🎨

-> #mizudrew

General tags I'll use for all my art works

-> #mizuiscomical

I draw short fan comics sometimes, so this will be used to easily find those specifically

-> #mizuOC<3

OC related art tag! Rare but its there (eventually)

-> #drewyouryaps (not regular)

I might draw some ideas from the asks box if I have an art block, but it's not a promise since I have my own list of ideas to run through

[ Non-Art Tags ] 🗣️

feel free to block if you just wanna see my works but I swear I have deep yaps 🥺🥺👉👈

-> #yappertoyapperconvo

My asks tag <3 Feel free to yap to me about twst! Send me cute stuff! Ideas! Prompts! I'd love to talk about twst more! Other fandoms you see me drawing for is fine too!

-> #yapper!mizu

I like to yap, so lemme yap!! Likely to be mostly about twst since it lives rent free in my mind 24/7

-> #eatingyourartrn

tag for reblogging mooties arts!!

P.S

I'm currently a full time student, so please don't be discouraged if I don't reply back immediately! Additionally, I'm still getting to know how tumblr works on the creator side since I've always been a lurker prior to this.

I'm pretty reserved so let me have a few interactions with you so I can gauge the appropriate amount of energy to return back!

I'm in the process of cross-posting my works here so it's a bit empty (understatement) right now! Hang on tight!

If you have taken the time to read all that, I thank you for the bottom of my epel-filled heart! Enjoy your time here!

Live laugh epel.

[ihatedean]

please help my baby get his ear surgery done<3

thank you for clicking read more :)

so after months of testing the vet informed us a few days ago that our cat does, in fact, have skin cancer. to get more specific it's actually squamous-cell carcinoma.

(text is in spanish but im sure google lens can translate pretty well.)

it's affecting the tip/side of his left ear and hasn't spread to his nose or the other ear, so the vet recommended surgery to get the ear removed as soon as we possibly can. this would be on september 2nd, this monday.

exams like x-rays and biopsies have already been pretty expensive so i'm making this post to hopefully offset the cost of his pinnectomy (ARS$180,000->USD$189) even just a little bit. the whole thing has been really stressing and adding to that a messed up family situation where i can't ask them for help, please trust me when i say i wouldn't do this if i didn't need to.

details for the fic commissions:

my ao3 account for reference

right now im working on stuff for supernatural and formula 1 so that's where my brain's at, mostly, but ive done a lot of writing for jojo's bizarre adventure (im Very fluent with jotaro and all part 3-4 characters) and for the argies in the room, i've even written stuff for los simuladores and el marginal. i have no issues writing in spanish (rioplatense).

im also comfortable writing for genshin impact. been playing for years and im familiar with the lore up until fontaine. i've been itching to write something for a while :)

im Very Very familiar with x reader fics and will do OC x Character or OC x OC gladly as long as you provide character art or detailed descriptions to help me capture them best.

im comfortable writing pretty much every ship for the fandoms i named and can do gen, teen, mature and explicit works. im open to all kinks and have a history of doing incest and age-gap pairings. im comfortable with most dark themes— will write dub-con, non-con, cnc, and want to hear your weirdly specific skinks. in general, it's easier to say what i will not do than what i will. no judgement, as long as you respect

what i will not do:

horror

gore

necrophilia

violent non-con or explicit non-con (mentioning it in the story is fine, but i will not write the actual scene)

scat

vore

race play (hateful imagery/racial slurs)

kidfic

for formula 1 im simply inept at doing maxiel and c2. in general, i struggle with max and carlos. won't write anything for lando, sorry. anything else from 2010 to 2024 is fine, and im open to AUs of any kind as well as gender bending :)

pricing

Tier 3 — USD$5 for 500 words. 5 slots open

Tier 2 — USD$10 for 1k to 3k words. 2 slots open

Tier 1 — USD$25 for 4k to 10k words. 2 slots open

if i exceed wordcount in any case, it's on me. i'm a yapper.

contact me here or ask for my gmail in tumblr dms ^^

i can only accept ppal for USD$. if you're in argentina and you're interested, dm me for mercadopago info :)

(if you just want to donate that's totally cool. i just felt weird asking for money without anything to offer. it's a me thing)

ppal link

if you read this whole thing, thank you. here is the boy himself. he's almost 11 years old, incredibly grumpy, manipulative, called ugly by almost all my friends, has already gone through eye surgery so that's why his eyes look Like That, and on the rare occasion he sits on my lap i literally cry.

please put sunscreen on your cats, especially if they have white hair like aki. we didn't know for the longest time that exposure to the sun could cause skin cancer on cats and by the time we knew and started doing it, it was too late.

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #09 seeing red.

synopsis: over the past ten years you’ve fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it’s clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc’s

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex’s, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

word count: 2.7k

masterlist ▸ 008 not the bath mat.  ▸ 010 coming soon

“You okay?”

Seokmin’s voice rang through y/n’s ears as she drove her car away from of Vernon’s white apartment building. 

“Yeah, I think so. I’m just nervous for some reason like I can’t put into words why, but my gut is telling me something is weird.” 

“Gut instincts are rarely ever wrong, but I’ll be by your side until you tell me you don’t need me to be. Okay?” 

Pulling up into the parking lot of the glass framed building just on the edge of the city overlooking the water, y/n felt her nervous sweating start to begin, almost begging for air conditioning to surround her like a chilled hug. 

“Want to hold my hand?” 

“Yes please, they’re clammy I’m sorry.” 

Gripping onto Vernon’s firm hand the three boys almost looking like her bodyguards bypassed the frenzy of people outside waiting to get their own peak at Minghaos installation themselves and walked through the door. 

The room was filled with small tables, made by hand as a final touch to Minghaos work, adorned with dainty black table clothes and bottles of champagne placed in ice buckets. 

The room was softly lit with yellow and white lighting making everyone have a glow that bounced off of them almost as if they weren’t real. 

“Would you guys like a drink? We have champagne and two signature cocktails, one is a gin based drink called ‘delicate’ and the other is a whiskey ginger based drink called ‘storm cloud.” 

The beautiful waitress signaled at y/n’s small group and pointed out the drinks on the table. 

“I think two storm clouds and one delicate one for sure. Y/n? What would you like?” 

You spun to look into Junhui’s big eyes, skating your head saying anything is alright with you so he made the conclusion to just order you the same as Seokmin to be safe. 

“Thank you.” 

Y/N placed a tip in the small bartenders jar and bid her a smile knowing she’ll be back for more later in the night 

“Should we look around now and try to find Minghao? Or wait a bit?” 

“Seok lets just wait here, it doesn’t seem like anyone is looking around yet, I'm trying to spy for Minnie and Mingyu.” 

“And Mimi.” 

“Yeah. Her too.” 

“Guys, Vernon and I are going to go find Vernon’s friend Seungkwan. We'll be back in a second.” 

“No problem.” 

Y/n and Seokmin waved the cute couple off into the crowd. 

“So y/n.” 

“Seoky.” 

“How are we feeling now? What was going on in the car?” 

“I don’t know. I told you I’m alright.” 

“Yeah but you don’t have to lie to me about that.”

“I promise you I would never lie to you, we basically took an unintentional blood oath as kids it stays” 

“Okay. I love you, you know that right? But I rarely see you nervous like this so I can’t help but feel concerned.”

“Shut up. Yes I do and I love you too. I promise im alright.”

Averting her gaze back to the front door she watched as Minnie and Mingyu walked hand and hand, strutting past a very devious looking Mimi standing to the right, chit chatting with someone who was unrecognizable to y/n. 

“They look good together.” 

“Yeah, they do.” 

“Do you think this fake dating is going to lead to them.. you know.” 

“Well. If I can be honest with you y/n which I'm sure I can, I think it already has.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you alright with that?” 

“I am actually. Any other time it would’ve killed me I think, but now.. I don’t know? I’m content. They make sense.” 

“You shine too bright to have someone who shades you.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“I don’t know actually, I think im drunk already.” 

Y/n placed a small kiss on Seokmin’s temple laughing at his flushed cheeks before a familiar yet irritating voice cut through their ears. 

“Y/n, Seokmin. Hi! You both look absolutely gorgeous. Mind if I sit?” 

“Hi, Mimi. Sure.” 

“How are you guys? This is so beautiful and we haven’t even seen his art yet, how crazy. He’s so talented.” 

“Yeah it’s nice. You look great, I love your bag.” 

“Thank you. You look nice. I see you didn’t go with the outfit you picked out the other day.” 

“Hao told us to come in black so it just didn’t feel right.”

“Mimi, can I ask you how you know Minghao again?” 

“Oh wow, well it’s a long story. We met a few years ago, I haven’t seen him in a while actually.” 

“Ah, I see. Did you go to school together or?” 

“Wow Seokmin, someone’s nosey.” 

“Oh, sorry no, not nosy just curious is all. I didn’t know you knew him.” 

“It’s okay. Our parents actually work together.” 

“Nice.” 

“Do you know if he arrived yet? I’m sure he’d love to see you in this gorgeous outfit. Leaving everything to the imagination, he likes conservative girls.” 

“No we haven’t seen him, we're just waiting for Junhui actually.” 

“Aw, cutie. His boyfriend seems so nice, I stalked them online today. Dumb and dumber vibes, you know? I’m more curious though did you see Minnie and Mingyu? How trashy getting with your friends hook up? Maybe she truly has it out for you. You’re too pretty to never be the one to end up with the guy. But actually you should just date Seokmin, everyone knows how much you guys love each other, it could work out well.”

“Oh I-

“Well, I have to get going and find my way to the girls room. I’ll see you later. Toodles.” 

“Toodles” 

Seokmin’s voice gained a depth that you haven't heard since someone pushed him in the fountain at your high school during senior prank week. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

“Fucking weird is what that was.” 

Seokmin’s tone turned quickly into a quiet mocking of Mimi’s.

“Dumb and Dumber vibes.”

The two of them laughed as they shrugged off the interesting encounter with a former foe.

A bartender came over to the pair and handed them both a flute of champagne, as the rest of the patrons erupted into a roar when Minghao made his way into the building, Wonwoo walking beside him, smiling at his friend who was receiving praise from his acquaintances, hugging and high fiving him for his success, some chanting for him to make a speech.

Minghao walked straight past Mimi who was stealthily placed behind a tall gentleman the star of the night was not paying any attention to her whatsoever, almost like she was invisible. He strode over to the small table where y/n and Seokmin were awkwardly standing clutching the glass flutes, wrapping his arms around the both of them at the same time. 

“You guys look.. amazing, thank you for coming.” 

Minghao took a deep breath and looked up and down at the girl he had his arm around. 

“Seriously. Thank you.” 

“Our pleasure.” 

“I’ll be back after I say some thank yous, maybe we can all walk through together okay?” 

“Cool.” 

The intimate crowd surrounded Minghao and Wonwoo handed him the matching glass of sparkling wine and he held it up as a small cheers. 

Y/n peaked through the crowd and spotted Minnie and Mingyu to her right, still looking as loving as ever, Vernon and Jun to her left with an unrecognizable boy, who threw a small wave in her direction that she could only pass off as Seungkwan the only one she couldn’t place was Mimi.

“Hey guys. I just wanted to say thank you for coming tonight to the opening of my show. It’s been about a two year process to finally get through to this night. Many of you have been around much longer than that, so thank you for supporting me even when I was up late at night calling you upset about how it wasn’t going to work out. Vernon, Wonwoo, Seungkwan, and Mingyu, you guys truly were the only reason I didn’t jump ship many times from achieving this goal. It’s nice to see old faces like yours mixed into a group of new friends. So thank you, everyone, really. We’re going to take a peek through the gallery now, feel free to bring your drinks and grab some more along the way. And yeah, just enjoy yourselves. Thank you.” 

The clapping dwindled down as the group followed Minghao through the journey he went through over the past two years starting from just a week ago up until the beginning. 

Y/N stopped Seokmin to look at a very small white canvas decorated with various pastel water color paints mixed with an oil that looked almost the color of fresh blood. 

“Do you know when I did that?” 

“This?” 

Minghaos voice spoke up behind them quietly, not wanting the room to echo as the group was admiring the work during their part one journey. Seokmin smiled down at his female friend and decided to take the opportunity to wander off on his own like any good wingman would do. 

“Yeah.” 

“Uh, no. Is this a trick question?” 

“No it’s not, but it was that night I found you on your floor, looking at those pictures of you and your friends.” 

“I- You got inspired by that? How?” 

“Not sure I have time to explain it right now, but look at the title.” 

‘About you’ was written on the plaque to the right side of the artwork. 

“Wow. Thank you.” 

“No thank you, I couldn’t have finished any of this without you actually.” 

The art curator swooped Minghao away from your side moving the group into the second room, where the energy was colder, the lighting was turned down slightly, causing the fading colors the feel cold and dark and full of sadness especially coming from the front of the house that was bright and full of life. 

y/n was on her own now, sitting near the back of the group losing her sight of all her comfort blankets that were her friends. 

She spotted the red lip of Mimi directly across the room, also slipping to the back, trying to blend into the crowd as she looked around. 

After spending a good ten minutes looking around the group was led through a vinyl curtain into a room full of dark red lights, the canvases on the wall now sunk to the floor of the room and scattered themselves alongside ripped and tattered papers on the concrete floors.

Something in y/n’s stomach had told her she should leave now, the growing anxiety of the light and coldness of the room, with near to no talking as the faint look of paint splatter sunk into her eyes on the walls almost like old blood. 

She tried to turn around and make her exit through the same vinyl door when a hand came up to her wrist. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“Oh, Mimi hi, shit you scared me. I actually don’t feel well. I was going to dip out for a second.” 

“Aw, come on y/n you can’t leave Minghao now. Not before the big finale.” 

“Right..” 

“Be right back, I’ll find Seokmin for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

All of the sudden as Mimi walked away a projector screen hit the wall, various old videos shot on a cam recorder. 

Y/n had recognized the faint pink colored walls, her own childhood room.

“Let’s go fucking crazy.”

The words came from lips that were set behind the camera only y/n knowing it was the sound of Mimi’s voice as she was being filmed sitting on the bed of her old room, a bottle of cheap vodka in her hands. 

“Okay, y/n I want you to see how pretty you are. We can send this to Joshua as a birthday gift. Should I turn the lights off more?” 

She watched herself as she nodded awkwardly giggling on top of the zebra sheets, her hands pushing the red bottle of liquor to her lips, dribbling the liquid down her chin, the sight of tears welling up in her round eyes.

“Y/nnie don’t be sad, nobody will ever find out we accidentally hurt anyone, okay? My dad said she’ll be okay, just a broken leg. Just let loose.” 

The lights flickered off the screen straight into her soul pushing down the memories of Mimi stealing her dads car while intoxicated to go and buy more alcohol before this very moment played out. 

Suddenly she saw red. All of this had been a set up to embarrass her. Another nail in her coffin. 

Her eyes filled with tears as she watched Mimi turn the people in the room to sit and stare at her face.  Watching the scene play on as Mimi told a very naive twenty year old girl to strip herself of her own clothes to impress the boy she liked and forget about the worst day of her life. 

The people in the room sized her up and down, some turning back to the screen, others reading a small handout that was stuffed into a map of the museum while giggling at the journal entries she wrote about her once crush and the man she had fallen for now before she even made the connection of who he was to her all of those years ago.

Y/n’s legs felt like jello, yet something in her built up the strength to bolt through the vinyl curtain, her heels echoing through the white walls like bullets hitting a glass window. 

She heard a voice cutting through the sound of her heels behind her calling out, but she decided she couldn’t stop to turn around and face anyone. It was a secret that couldn’t be shared, something that Mimi used as a final dagger to cut everyone out of her life the same way she cut the girl out of her own. 

As she reached the fresh air of the front doors, the same cute bartender was sitting out on the curb smoking a cigarette looking concerned for y/n’s well being. 

“Are you alright?” 

“No.” 

“Want a cigarette?” 

“A ride maybe? If it’s not too much to ask. I dropped my phone somewhere, I have cash I can pay you. I just need to get out of here now.” 

“I don’t need your money, it’s okay. Let me help you get a cab okay?” 

“Thank you, really. What’s your name?” 

“Rena. Yours?” 

“Y/n” 

Rena walked quickly with y/n to the outside cab pickup on the corner of the art museum, quickly hailing you a cab and shutting you tightly inside, leaving you with the last four cigarettes stuffed inside her metal case. As you drove off with a wink from her, meaning she had a feeling she’d see you again. 

“55 Miles Avenue, please” 

The driver sped through the night lights avoiding cars like it was a game. Pulling up outside the familiar front of Joshua’s building. 

Basically throwing money at him and whispering a quick thank you, y/n ran her way up to his elevator, finally reaching his floor, and knocking heavily on the door. 

In the few seconds he took to come unlock his apartment to her, she realized how desperate and deschevled she must look. 

“Y/n? It’s still early, are you okay?” 

“No.” 

“Come in, come in.” 

Her tears suddenly grew stronger, sinking down to his wooden floor, feeling his hands grab her shoulders and sink down with her. 

“What happened?” 

Words couldn’t form in her mouth correctly, she managed to spill a couple of sentences that made a way to fill him in. 

“Fuck. Y/n come on, let’s get you a shower and some fresh clothes.” 

Joshua’s arms picked the girl off the floor and led her into his black marble bathroom, which suddenly felt like an oasis to her. 

The water ran hot, scorching her body of the sins and embarrassment she had just gone through, spending more time scrubbing away at her skin and hair, feeling like it would help if she rubbed her skin nearly raw. 

Stepping out of the shower she grabbed the gray hoodie and soft sweatpants Joshua had laid out for her, taking her time to step into her clothes and walk out into her reality. 

“I ordered you some food. Come on.” 

As she finished eating in her daze, the boy to her left carefully rolled the thin paper over the green flower and lit the end, handing her a relief from her stress. 

“Thank you.” 

“Want to talk about it?” 

“Not right now.” 

“Okay. But im sorry I made you befriend her again, I should’ve known better y/n. I really thought she had changed.”

“Stop. Please, I really don’t want to talk about her right now.”

“Okay, just one last thing. Why do you think she did it?”

“I honestly have no idea.”

“But do you think Minghao had something to do with it I mean she basically ruined his whole night just for her own revenge. Seems weird that he-“

“Josh.”

“Okay. okay.”

Joshua and y/n sat in the haze of their shared joint, not talking until she finally had enough of a high to fall asleep next to him on the couch and chose to deal with her problems the next day. 

bonus:

note/s: part one of y/n’s wild ride fr. i feel like yall all know we can trust seok/bernon/wonu/junhui for sure 😌✊🏻 but for everyone else the jury (me) is still out lmao. IK MY ASS USED THE WRONG YOUR ok thank u lets just chalk it up to seokmin being drunk and silly lmao <3 i kept telling myself this is too rushed but i also didn’t want to overwhelm and put more of the drama here so lol. def prob typos etc etc bc i was editing at night which i def shouldn’t do anymore lmao. ok ttyl ily.

tag list:  @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl@kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, porridgesblog,,  jasssy051, @soonyoungblr, @saucegirlreads, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @young-adult-summer, @punkhazardlaw, @bibs-world@the-swageyama-tobiyolo@wonuulvr@woozixo @k-drama-adict

[sevenrs]

been seeing interest crop up for a plural interpretation of grey wind/chasing wind, or making plural iterator ocs. this is great! as a system myself, i would like to offer some guiding questions and tips to non-systems to help out in their endeavors. please remember that i am one system and plurality varies VERY HEAVILY among people. other systems are free to comment and add their own tips. just dont turn this post into syscourse

i will use gw/cw as the most prevalent examples but this applies to any oc as well!

- alters are their own people in a lot of cases, not just "personalities". ask yourself, how does gw differ from cw? when presented with the same situation, how do each of them react? do they agree with each other or not? either way, what are their reasons?

- systems are rarely comprised of just two alters. it is not impossible, but very rare. most people notice plural symptoms at around 3 alters and people will on average have between 8-15 alters (but more is very much not unheard of!). think about how many alters gw/cw would have on top of each other

- alters may have different pronouns, sexuality, and ways they want to present themselves from each other. how do gw/cw and other alters differ from each other in this way, if at all?

- if gw/cw's physical body changes to represent who is fronting, was this an ability they had before realizing their plurality? in our world, we cannot change how we look outside of clothes and makeup. if gw/cw do not possess the ability to change physically, do either of them or any other alter feel uncomfortable or even dysphoric looking at their physical body?

- alters' relationships may vary heavily on the same person. how do gw/cw feel about a specific person? how are they the same or different? is one alter in a whole different kind of relationship with someone than another?

- how comfortable is gw/cw with telling others about their plurality? do only they know? their close friends? local group? anyone they come across? plurality is often personal, and is not a singular decision for any one alter in a system to make to tell others. it can be difficult for non-systems to understand what plurality is like (and in our world, cause mockery) so they may think it is easier to stay quiet about it

- plurality happens because of several different conditions. there is did, but there are also ospd-1a and 1b. i would highly recommend doing your own research on these different types of plurality. they each have different effects on memories, emotional state, even how defined the alters themselves. again, look into it

- if gw/cw have memory problems, do they have a way to get around it? private broadcasts? pearls? scratching on the walls? how do they talk to alters not co-concious with them?

- some systems may use role labels to identify themselves as having particular jobs to help/protect the system. these are roles such as host, caretaker, guardian, traumaholder, etc. do your research on this one. do any of these roles apply? or do gw/cw forgo these labels? (personally, we only use the term "host")

- headspace is a place in the mind where alters "live" (it's not a real residence, but it feels that way) headspace may be small, only representing co-conciousness, or very large, giving every alter a more "tangible" place to stay if not fronting. or headspace might not exist at all! (this is most common in systems who just found out about their plurality). what does headspace look like to them? keep in mind, headspace can really look like anything. for me at least, it looks mostly consistent. a few things may change about it or it may expand, but it's not like imagination where anything happens if you think about it

as a disclaimer i am not going to go in depth about trauma or sources in this post. it can get very personal very quickly. a general way i can put it is think of a long term source of stress and/or abuse that may be present in your iterator's life. handle the subject with care.

the best way to learn about the experiences of plurality is to ask people who are systems. as long as you are given consent, come in with genuine curiosity, and be as reasonable as you can, most systems will be okay with questions! it is like any other identity

a side: other ways to make plural iterators?

iterators do not share human anatomy or physiology. they will never perfectly be able to represent plurality like we have it in our world

but the unique characteristics of iterators can lend way into creative ideas that are similar to plurality! (but never, i want to stress, NEVER the same)

notably, several puppets in one can. if you remember that the body of the iterator is the structure, and the puppets are like the face, then you have several faces, personalities, people, in one body. my immunerators play around with this idea and i am sure there are other ways to get creative!

[dinakisss]

How do you draw so well? I really love your artstyle(it’s so expressive and just tickles my brain in a way)! Can you share me your secrets?

Oh thank you! I'm glad you like my work!

I can share some tips even though I really don't think I posses the skill set nor am I in the position to give out advice

I think you should always prioritize stylization. Your aim should be to create something new and unique. Make your art distinguishable, put your soul in it.

And your art style will change, my work will definitely look different next year, but it grows with me. So it's really a never ending process.

But don't be afraid to experiment, take ideas from others, make ugly art, draw ugly people, incorporate elements from other works into your style be creative and of course have fun.

Also sometimes take breaks from drawing, it helps a lot.

AND DONT FORGET TO FLIP YOUR CANVAS❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

And use references ofc( I rarely use them not because I’m so talented amazing and cool but because I’m lazy as hell!!! I ain’t gonna spend 20 minutes searching for a fuckass pic😭(and I can always tell if I used reference to draw or not so pls))

First time posting non napoleon related art here omg(oc’s👅👅😝)

[pointyhatspointyears]

Bout-time-for-a-pinned Pinned

Hello there. You can call me Pointy or Yasumi. (She/her)

This is both a character blog for Yasumi the lala witch, and a general gaming blog for everything FFXIV, Dragon Age or Mihoyo.

I have an FC of OCs with my partner and most of my posts are different OCs of mine simping over different OCs of hers. You won't see much OC x Canon stuff here.

Not spoiler-free, but I try to tag spoilers. Feel free to let me know if I forget to.

Runs on a shuffled queue.

I follow from my non-gaming related main, and reblog to either @eorzeanadventures for vanilla stuff or here for modded stuff and non-ffxiv related games.

Occasionally NSFW but not very explicit. Minors DNI. Will tag with #nsfw or #nsfw gpose

This blog supports and encourages cringe. If you're allergic to cringe keep yourself safe and stay away.

OOC: I play on Chaos (Europe timezone) so sorry in advance for the weird hours (and broken English)

WCIF? my lala isn't visually modded all that heavily aside from a body replacement and a C+ template. But do feel free to DM me if you see anything you like or have any questions on using posing tools.

---·:¨☆: ⨴ ⨀ ⨵ :☆¨:·---

Common tags:

My gposes: for all my own gposes, vanilla or modded

House of Beans: Everything related to our FC characters, gpose, comic, art, writing or otherwise.

Bean GIFs: all my own gifs

Bean comics: all the comics I create with gpose

OC Prompts: for ask games, memes or prompts started by others

Pointy Ears: Everything I reblog to do with elves, elezen & lalafells

Pointy Hats: Everything I reblog to do with magic & witches

Stars: STARS, man. They're pretty.

🎃🦇Fyeah Witch Pride Month 🦇🎃

---·:¨☆: ⨴ ⨀ ⨵ :☆¨:·---

Character tags:

My OCs:

Yasumi: my main lalafell. Appears to be in her 30-40's but is allegedly 69 years old. Astrologian who lives in a cave under her own plot in the Lavender Beds and is rarely seen.

Gabriel (@eukrasiancrisis): The Ishgardian prig who bought her house, used as a front. Besties with her wife, to her chagrin. He talks a lot and says little. But his astrological chart is the only one Yasu has trouble reading other than her wife's, so she keeps him around out of curiosity. For science.

Theneras: Ex- Dreamer of Everlasting Dark from the First with a shameless amount of Dragon Age references

Goose (@goose-ffxiv): That loud Limsan butch who keeps visiting and making all sorts of noise. Besties with sister-in-law, so Yasu tolerates her. She's more fun than the elezen, at least.

Not my OCs:

Yuusei (@pocketyoukai): Yasumi's wife and saving grace. Our household's favorite smith & friendly neighbor who moved over from Kugane. Older sister of Yuuko. Has a family of spriggans.

Fyrstyrm (@fyrstyrm): Yasumi's gardener and probably the only person other than Yuusei she's completely comfortable around and trusts with her home and plants.

Yuuko: The little lady of the house & adopted daughter of Fyrstyrm & Gabriel

Amalthea (@theburningshield): Yuuko's miqo'te friend who occasionally visits that Yasu detected some pretty strong ass aether with. She seems to have the echo. Not someone she's comfortable having around for too long.

[bloodiegawz]

OPEN SPECIES: DREAMBEASTE MASTERPOST

Intro

[Note: images will not contain information that is otherwise not mentioned in the post]

Dreambeastes (beastes for short) are shapeshifting residents of the Dreamscape. They are spirits of sorts- that is, they can manifest as creatures in reality, and return to the Dreamscape upon death. Beastes are playful and curious, and social by nature. It is rare to see one isolated from a pack.

Guidelines

Beastes come in two basic varieties: standard and non-standard.

Standard beastes are the most common, presenting three main traits: visible halos (connected to Abstraction Keys), paws, and tufted tails. The first is the most important to keep track of, as sometimes beastes are known to shift their forms in a way that may make physical traits hard to identify.

Non-standard beastes do not show their halos. It is typical for these to grow from their standard form, rather than be born entirely new. For whatever reason, they are also in possession of a mysterious and powerful tool known as a Reality Key. These beastes may present more oddly than others, often not showcasing the soft, identifiable parts of their peers; this is known to be a gradual progression from their old bodies.

Applicable rules to both varieties:

- Abstraction Keys, in some form, are visible.

- Black does not present in a beaste. However, there is no shortage of dark colors.

- Beastes do not have functional organs. Anything resembling such is superfluous.

- They are not always "on-model". Their bodies are constantly shifting, even if only the most minor of details.

Dictionary

You may have noticed some words in this post that seem unfamiliar. This is because I have made them up. Here is a short, handy dictionary for you to reference.

Dreamscape: A plane of existence outside of reality. Can be glimpsed in dreams, hence its name.

Halos: Portals used for quick transportation. Occasionally referred to as gates.

Abstraction Keys: Star-shaped tools that allow the user to draw halos. Work for any location within the Dreamscape.

Reality Keys: Star-shaped tools that allow the user to travel between planes. They are said to be the hollowed-out center of Abstraction Keys.

Packs: The common collective term for a group of beastes. The Circus is the largest and most well-known pack in the Dreamscape.

Permissions

"Can I make one?"

Yes. As said in the title, this is an open species!

"Can I make them [_____]?"

I'm not a cop. My own personal beaste lore does not need to affect yours! The point of this species is to let your creativity flow!

"How do I credit you?"

Mentioning me by handle (bloodiegawz) is just fine. Tags are appreciated but not necessary.

"Can my OC and your OC be friends?"

Please ask me beforehand. Depending on the character, it will likely be reserved for mutuals.

Established Dreambeastes

Under construction.

Q&A

Also under construction. Further questions will be answered here.

[cookiedocinha]

📌 • PINNED POST!

-> Introduction:

Hello there! I'm "Cookie Docinha", but I also go by the names Atsuko, Akira or Asher. I am an amateur artist and animator who does what I do because I love it, I am 18 years old and I am Brazilian and, at the moment, I live in Brazil 💚💛

I am a non-binary person, and I go by He/they pronouns and masculine and neutral terms.

Feel free to ask anything, because this is a fun pastime :D

Oh yeah, and this is my sona, Atsuko! This silly creature that represents me!

-> Artwork:

I make different types of art and animations, most of them are related to fan stuff, since I'm part of several fandoms.

But I also have my own original little creatures and their adventures >:3

-> Commissions:

I do art and animation commissions, but since I'm busy with school and studying for college entrance exams at the moment, I'm only accepting art commissions at the moment. There's more info in my carrd!

Current status: OPEN

I have a YouTube channel where I post my animations, my Twitter and Instagram, but because of the policy changes on these platforms, I switched to Bluesky and here!

-> Other platforms:

Here's my linktree with all my official social medias (Any other account with my name that is outside of this linktree is probably someone impersonating me, be careful!)

-> Content and warnings:

My content can sometimes be a little sensitive for some people, even though most of the artworks are cute and silly things, sometimes I will do violence, blood, light gore and others. But don't worry, because I always put a "trigger warning" or "content warning" (TW and CW). Just be careful when checking out my arts. (NOTE: There is no sensitive art in my commission portfolio, so don't worry!!)

-> Before following:

Know that I don't have the habit of staying in just one fandom for a very long time. Sometimes I might find a new interest and end up focusing on it more. But that doesn't mean I hate the fandom I was in before, so don't follow me just because of the fandom or anything like that.

And I don't really care about ships, but I VERY RARELY make some ship art (usually my OCs, because I don't like ship discussions) again, if I do something like this, don't start an argument over it, I'm not a fan of ships and if I do something related to that, know that I did it just for fun and boredom.

-> Fandoms/My current interests (constantly updated):

• Undertale/ Deltarune

• Undertale Yellow

• Murder Drones

• The Amazing Digital Circus

• Vocaloid/ Synthesizer V

• Pizza Tower

• Friday Night Funkin'

• Baldi's Basics

• Art and animations in general

• ENA

• Omori

• Yume Nikki

• Needy Streamer Overload

• Original Characters

• Minecraft

• Roblox

• Class of '09

• Project Sekai (I'm kinda new into it)

-> Asks:

Any questions or suggestions are welcome, however, if it is something that makes me extremely uncomfortable, I will not respond to you and will delete it from the message box. And if you insist, I will block you.

Well, that's all for now! See u!