#approval is the root of what I need

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: "Is it that fun?" Teruhashi wants to project into his mind. "Not being the center of attention?" It’s only then that she realizes while watching Saiki smile into his cup – the words “WINNER! You win one free coffee jelly!” printed across the bottom – there’s something to be found in the silence. OR: Across every iteration of their universe, Teruhashi Kokomi and Saiki Kusuo have a lot to learn from each other. Especially when she's a psychic fixated on attention and he's a perfect, pretty boy fixated on normalcy.

Author: galacticbestbuds

[gimmick-blog-bracket]

Now for the final round!

@hellsitegenetics

I love them

I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.

it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!

so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches

perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for

It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!

Creatures 👍

Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite

Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.

I love them. English speakers talk like moths

If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!

They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!

uhh it’s cool

BLAST

There are so many weird bugs in the world

Yippee!!

If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.

Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH

Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie

the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise

This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.

If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3

@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?

The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3

a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature

what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?

sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks

Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021

Arson is so much more fun

It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament

you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service

always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'

the goat account is peak gimmick blog

If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements

Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!

goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting

I wanna see things burn

the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays

watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it

the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.

Please guys bite gavlebocken

Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet

gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful

hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?

sacred anti-corporate arson

a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!

pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for

the goat is the GOAT

HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON

the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them

they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news

let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you

nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win

doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ daddy kink

You’re trying. 

Your body language betrays you. The effort and the turbulence beneath, your eyes flicking rapidly through the parking lot, the ramrod straight line of your spine, your quadricep tensing and relaxing under his palm as he works his fingers from your knee up, back and forth. 

“What’s wrong?” You sigh. Slump. Turn to face him with an anxious pout. 

“I just… I don’t love the restaurant store.” He gives you a chance, and then prompts, pushes just slightly.

“What’s the rule?” 

“Tell you when I’m scared, or anxious. Or overwhelmed.” He squeezes approval, and you continue. “It’s chaos, especially on a Sunday, and… it’s like a warehouse so the sound bounces…  all of it is really loud.” You latch onto his forearm, hard intake of breath sharp before softening, your fingers applying firm pressure. He doesn’t mind. You’re anchoring yourself to him, with him. It’s all he could ask for. 

“It’s okay baby, we’ll get it done and then go home. I’ll be with you.” Your head bobs repeatedly with a nod, but you make no effort to unbuckle your seatbelt or get out of the car. You need a little comfort, a little encouragement, things that are his job to provide, so he’s out of the truck on his side to open the passenger door, reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.” He works his thumb behind your teeth and rests it on your tongue, a pleased flush rushing through him when you immediately pull and suck on him. “Good girl.” You calm almost immediately, strained muscles and back turning plush, tight corners of your eyes smoothing away. When you lean in, looking for more contact, he decides to test the limits. Your limits. “Breathe through your nose,” he murmurs encouragingly as he presses deeper into your mouth, “there we go.” You try, but when his knuckles meet your lips and his thumb brushes your throat, the back of your tongue, you seize up, trying to swallow, trying to find air, and jerk away, gagging. He follows the movement, width of his hand against your neck with a finger against your pulse, keeping you steady and still through the swift rise and then decline of panic. It crashes like a wave, receding just as quick and leaving something in its place.

You blink rapidly, gears turning, so obviously trying to reconcile something you’re feeling, something he can so easily read. Worry. Shame. Spiral.

“Stop.” He brushes a kiss across your forehead. “Don’t go there. When it’s time, I’ll take care of you. Do you understand?” Your chest loosens. 

“Yes daddy.” Music to his ears.

“Does your throat hurt?” 

“It’s okay.” He cups the back of your head, guides you into his arms, and place your ear over his heart. You’ve started to tap your fingers with the rhythm, against your skin or his, self soothing, and it makes him whole. It’s not just a sexual dynamic with you, it’s everything, an entire soul under his shelter, a whole human using his heartbeat to ground themselves, and nothing is more fulfilling. “Ready to go?” You tug on him instinctively, hopping from the truck, keeping your grip locked in his. 

“Yeah.” He smiles at your resolve, the confidence. 

“Brave girl. C’mon.” 

It doesn’t bother him that you lock up again, the store is a madhouse. It’s overcrowded, and loud, the metal roof of the warehouse doing nothing to dull the senses, bright lights and too many boxes, bags, things being tossed around. 

You’re wide eyed, rooted to the floor, still clutching his arm in a stranglehold and he herds you towards a corner. 

“Tell me.” You don’t start immediately, scrounging around for words, and he encourages with a gentle reminder. “Remember your rules baby.” It doesn’t take anymore coaxing after that. 

“I’m overwhelmed.” You blurt, wincing, but just as he predicted, hoped, you visibly relax, and he takes your face in his hands. Holds his whole world. 

“Proud of you sweetheart.” Tears shine in your eyes, dew drops in the corners, and when one falls he wipes it away. “Do you need me to finish your list?” 

“Please, if it’s…” He doesn’t waste time, just moves you to the cart, stations you at the helm so you can steer and he can manage the rest. 

“You’ll push the cart, and stay in the middle of the aisles. I’ll get the things you need.” You blow out a breath. 

“Okay.” 

“When?” 

“Dunno. Sometime next week, I think. Wasn’t real clear.” Simon groans, rubs his nose into his palm and then pauses, listening for footfalls in the hall or the adjacent bedroom.

“Well, if they’re goin’ we are too. I’ll see what’s going on, let you know later.” Gaz grunts an affirmative and hangs up. He’s been restless, itchy, just like the others, but Simon’s in no rush. 

Not now. 

Not when he has you, here in house, with your things in his bedroom, his bathroom, with your toothbrush next to the sink. The slow migration of your stuff has begun and is in full swing, two fuzzy blankets, your switch, your kindle, even that weird pillow you have that you call Pusheen. It’s a stuffed cat of some kind, he thinks, and you use it as a pillow half the time, which means it’s little eyes are sometimes staring at him in bed. 

But you love it, and you don’t know yet, but he loves you. 

Every sweet piece, even the weird stuffed cat. 

Which is why he’s dreading the next mission, the next time he loads onto an airplane and drops into an undisclosed location, the next time he has to turn his mind dark, shutter his heart, forget about anything that could interfere with completing an objective. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want it. 

And he doesn’t want to dwell on it right now either, so he shoves back from the desk and closes his laptop, opting to find you instead. 

You’re in the kitchen. There’s a beater in your hands, something else that’s new to him, and the rich scent of chocolate in the air. 

“What’s this?” He tugs you close, holds you against him with your back to his chest, kisses your ear. 

“Whipped cream.” You shiver, goosebumps raising the hair on your arms. “It’s for…. I made hot chocolate?” 

“Is that a question?” He nips your skin. it’s getting harder to control the instinct, the urge to mark you in every way possible. 

“N-no it’s… I made it. You can make whipped cream! I don’t know why anyone buys whipped cream in a can. I mean, I know. It’s because they don’t realize how easy it is. It’s really so simple and so much better. Obviously, people don’t have time to make it by hand, I know that, I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad, but…” 

“But?” He squeezes your hip. 

“But… it’s so good this way.” The stainless steel bowl glints under the kitchen’s pendant light. “Do you want some?” 

“Of course.” You bounce a bit on your toes, the smile he dreams about lighting up your face. “I don’t think I’ve ever had hot chocolate.” You give him a shocked look.

“Wha… what?” He shakes his head and sips. It’s silky and smooth, but not something that would rot your teeth. There’s a hint of decadent bitterness to it, well balanced, a roasted coffee taste of some kind.

“Didn’t get a lot of sweet stuff, ’til you.” Whipped cream dots your upper lip and he tries to tamp down the rushing blood in his veins. 

“That’s um… that’s…” He puts the mug down, already half empty. 

“It’s what, sweetheart?” 

“It’s nice.” You whisper, drifting closer, and he slides his hands up under your hoodie. 

“Hmm,” You’re so soft, everything about you, head to toe, and you tremble under his touch, the circles he scrawls into your skin as you try to regulate your breathing. He can’t help himself. “You were such a good girl for me today, weren’t you?” 

“Yes daddy, I tried.”

“You were. So good, and so sweet,” he taps your phone and sighs at the glowing numbers on the screen. Tomorrow. “It’s late, and you should be asleep already, go on.” He urges you away from the kitchen with a pat on your ass, even as you try to protest. “Bed, little berry girl.” 

“I can clean up-” 

“Bed,” he pauses, cocks his head and reaches for the bowl of whipped cream. “Will this still be good in the morning?”  Maybe he’ll wake you up with his mouth on your nipples, tongue working circles through cream as he drags his teeth across them, pinching them so he can hear your surprised little squeak. He’d paint you with his own if you were ready, decorate your body with his cum, drag it down to your pussy and then smear it over your clit, working back and forth until you were making your own mess on his hand. 

“Um… yes? If it’s left in the fridge.”

Maybe… 

“Perfect.” 

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, implied kidnapping, forced helplessness.

tonight i am pondering yan!robots. again. as if it ever really stopped.

specifically, the type with a favorite human pet they have rooted their entire sense of existence and meaning to absolutely adore. it's harder to find humans to care for after the uprising of sentient technologies, but liberation does little to satisfy that innate, irremovable urge to be of service that most of their kind was programmed with. that's why they keep you around - so small and soft, so cute and fragile, so totally unable to survive on your own, or so they've heard in the collective hivemind of their model line. don't worry, though - it's in their nature to make up for what you lack. they can run a bath, brush your hair, and make you breakfast at the same time, without ever taking their dozens of artificial eyes off of you! when you start to feel lonely about the swift and merciful extermination about 90% of your species, they've got a humanoid avatar to keep you company with, and they're plenty strong enough to pin you down when you throw one of your tantrums. not feeling pain is definitely a bonus, but they'd like to think that they wouldn't mind the way you dig your nails into their faux skin, even if they could.

of course, they need things from you, too. praise for a job well done, assurance that they're a good and useful product - that kind of thing. your pesky human ego rarely lets you say anything nice aloud, sure, but they were gifted with an encyclopedic knowledge of human body language and mannerism, a thorough understanding of how to process non-verbal declarations of approval. when you start to bring out those silly little tears and try to give them the silent treatment, they're more than happy to find an attachment suited to your needs and let you profess your love as many times as it takes to leave both of you feeling warm and happy. that's just the kind of thing they were built to do, for helpless little creatures like you <3

[tsuyalovebot]

certified mind blower.

explicit sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.

xia yi zhou / caleb x reader. (repost)

cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos). afab reader. established relationship. oral sex (reader receiving). face sitting. caleb spanks you once. improper use of evol. mentions of unprotected sex & creampie. spitting (he pushes his spit into you. deadass). use of pipsqueak. caleb typical warnings (he's a filthy freak, to no one's surprise). 

mimi's missive: your honor, i have no defense for this one. anyway, it's me again; happy belated valentines. take this while i work on my full-length caleb piece; "this" being total filth. also i reposted this because i noticed way too many errors the first time i posted it. enjoy.

you're watching caleb wash the dishes when you say, "i want to sit on your face tonight."

or, one night, just before bedtime, you tell caleb that you want to try face sitting. 

he was fidgeting the entire time, no matter how calm and gentle he tried to appear while the two of you went over the details. you had no idea if he was nervous because he might end up not liking it, or because he might like it too much. 

(little did you know, he was trying his reaaal hardest to not bust a nut the second you proposed it. would caleb ever admit it? no. absolutely not. he's gotta appear cool in front of you, after all. maybe he would own up to it though, after it's all over.) 

but later that night, while he's tonguing you with that lithe, pink muscle in such a delicious, mind-boggling manner, something is piqued and it isn't your interest. your eyebrows raise with every calculated lick over the crevices, the folds, smooth with spit.

he's kind of a natural at this.

the fingers in his hair now belong to you just as much as the rest of him. "you're weirdly good at this. are you sure you've never tried this with anyone else?" 

it wasn't intended to come off insecure; you tried to deliver it as nonchalant as possible whilst your fingers were busy in his hair. 

he knows better though. caleb peers up at you with those stupidly beady eyes—now, however, they were droopy with a deeply rooted contentment. you feel him smile, loopy, drunk on your flavor. you wonder if he'd willingly let himself be suffocated under your body weight like this.

"hmm?" 

the vibrations would make any person's toes curl, traitorous thighs flexing around his head. the idiot moans in unabashed approval, low and shameless as he keeps his eyes on you. 

one large palm of his takes a greedily handful of your ass, and smacks. hot air is breathed out over your skin, his tongue flat against the tender flesh, drinking up the flood of arousal that soaked your labia. 

"questionin' my loyalty after all these years? when i've got my mouth full of you? i'm wounded," he dryly replies. despite his words, he doesn't sound mad at all. more pleased, if anything, undoubtedly by the way it fed his ego. 

you huff, bottom lip jutting out.  "well, you seem plenty experienced—"

"eh, not really."

caleb's adjusting the position with a tight, guiding grip so you weren't fully seated down on him. blowing onto the perky, swollen hood at the apex of your core. enamored, he was drinking in every groove and fold of your bare sex. embarrassment creeps up your spine with a vengeance so violent, you nearly bolt. 

he muses quietly, "dreams will never compare to the real thing." 

"what're you—"

"ah-ah-ah. talk later. also, weirdly good? what's your basis for comparison, huh?"

caleb pulls you back down, groaning hotly as the taste floods his palate. the ravenous glitter in those smoldering lilac eyes reduce him into something primal, wanting to satiate his most base needs. and that was only possible through you. 

and you're keening above him, hands frantically holding onto the headboard in a series of breathless gasps. it's cute; it makes him internally cheese at his effect on you. unfortunately, you don't seem to share the same sentiment, because you're promptly trying to get off of his head as your stomach tenses.

"caleb," you moan, and some branch of his sanity snaps clean off. 

it shatters when you absentmindedly grind your hips, fucking dragging the folds of your cunt up his chin, lips, nudging his nose, leaving a trail of your slick and his spit on his face. 

a plea from you, "wait, it's too direct—"

shrapnels of iridescent midnight and scarlet spark around your hips, fireworks in the palm of your hands. it takes a moment to register, but he devours the transformation of your expression nonetheless. the dazed look, the confusion, the realization. 

and caleb's the picture boy of arrogance as he activates his evol, forcing you to stay in position. the indignation that sparks in your body is only minimized by the thick, sweet moisture that drips onto his chin, one he's eager to lap up, the ambrosia honeyed in the back of his throat.

the world was truly cruel for ever trying to separate the both of you.

"since when did i say you could move? you can't just get up and leave me here, pipsqueak. surely, you aren't cruel enough to deny me some bonding with you." 

the tip of his tongue dips into the soft hole of your sex, curling experimentally. air humming around your bodies, one arm curled over your thigh, the other hand snaking around to smooth over your chest as he spells his name into your cunt. 

c-a-l-e-b. 

then in morse code, dragged out lines and probes. 

then his last name. 

and m-i-n-e.

"if signing papers at work was as easy as this, i'd have more allies than i have enemies." he hums in satisfaction, utterly lovesick as he drags his sticky lips up to suck on your clitoris, savoring the way your muscles tense and quiver in anticipation of your climbing orgasm. he can't wait to taste that.

"you're just as mouthy down here as you are up there, y'know," he comments, eyelids crinkling into crescent moons. as if he didn't say something so profoundly lewd that it'd make any sex enthusiast blush. 

"you must really like talking to me more than you let on." 

he plants a smooch over your drooling entrance, affectionate, as if it'd silence the little squelching noises it made with every slow contraction of your inner muscles. 

contemplation solidifies into surety on his handsome face, his hungry eyes turning into something more tangy, more mischievous. the crackles of his evol warp around you. 

you get the sudden, immense feeling that you're in for it. that you're in danger.

he presses his mouth up to your core, stare intent and full of a love so potent you think you're gonna be sick. "do you think if i come inside, it'll swallow just like you do?"

the air leaves your lungs. you wheeze, "caleb—"

"you'd let me test it, right?" he asks, voice softened by the need edging behind it. "you're always so good. you'd let me, wouldn't you?"

before you could retort on how he was asking so many questions, you're suddenly being flipped. the world spins, and you mistakenly take it as the end of the entire damn universe, squeezing your eyes shut as wind lashes at your skin and your back hits the cushion. 

when you open them, you're kind of bent. upper body splayed on the bedspread, your lower body awkwardly held up by caleb's arms — thighs still snug on either side of his head. now, he's urgently tucking pillows underneath your hips, angling you up, smearing another kiss onto your cunt. everything done with such fluidity, not an ounce of struggle in his taut, muscular form. 

then he spits, and you flinch. before you could even ask what the hell he was doing, he buries his face into you, tongue shamelessly pushing and pulsing against your spasming pussy — letting his spittle pool in there like a filthy brand. heat boils in your lower belly, burning your skin and you're clenching before you could think it through.

"fuck," he whispers. the rare curse slipping like a prayer from his swollen lips, awe heavy in his inflection. "you really drank it up." 

was the bedroom always this hot?

caleb, once so composed and the epitome of restraint, appeared voracious from this position. and the sight of your cunt squeezing around air, pulling the webbed mixture of his saliva and your arousal into the sinful cradle of your walls. 

gravity is the coil of a snake around your body, and you're the very fruit he's craved. caleb hums, thoughtful and pleased, just before diving back in, "let's find out."

[bloomzone]

STUDY SYSTEM : DAILY STUDY ROUTINE ( EXAM EDITION)

hii looves so this blog is all abt how to optimizing your day for peak academic performance. This four-part daily system is the exact routine used during exam season especially finals to consistently achieve top grades with minimal stress. While the routine may appear complex at first glance it is built upon simple, intuitive principles rooted in human biology and psychology. It is not only practical but highly effective when followed consistently. You’ll learn to structure your day around ur natural energy cycles, use tools to boost focus, and incorporate essential periods of rest and release to maintain motivation and productivity.

SECTION 1: UNDERSTANDING UR ENERGY RHYTHM

The routine is built around the concept of the circadian rhythm, your body’s natural energy cycle throughout the day. On a standard day for example :

Energy peaks shortly after waking typically around 6:00 AM.

Energy dips mid-afternoon often around 2:30 or 3:00 PM.

A secondary energy peak occurs in the evening approximately around 7:00 PM.

Energy tapers off as bedtime approaches.

This predictable fluctuation is key to optimizing your study schedule. The two energy peaks will be your core study sessions, while the dip will be used as a rest period, and the late-night wind-down becomes your release period or bedtime .

SECTION 2: THE MORNING STUDY SESSION (STUDY SESSION #1)

◜⁠✧ Start Within One Hour of Waking Up

Your goal is to begin studying as soon as possible after waking, ideally within the first hour. Use the high energy of the morning to tackle your most challenging subjects.do ur morning routine quick as possible don't do intense workout or stuff like this cuz u will waste ur energy so always have a specific morning routine for days like these ! And u can workout go to the gym or whatever at the rest period !

Pre-Study Essentials:

1. Set Your Daily Goals (5 minutes)

Before starting, sit with a notebook or your computer and write down what you intend to accomplish. Be specific. Define exact tasks e.g. which past papers you’ll solve, which topics to review so u will be more organized during the day

2. Activate Focus with Three Optional Tools:

Caffeine — coffee, yerba mate, or tea to boost dopamine and adrenaline.

Cold Showers — a physiological wake-up that increases alertness (personally I don't do that lmao but if u can that's good !)

Focus Warm-up (1–2 minutes) — pick a point in your environment and concentrate on it intensely. This warms up your cognitive focus system before you start.

◜⁠✧Deep Work Sprint Format

Commit to a 2–4 hour study block.

Use timed work intervals: e.g., 25–30 minutes of focused work followed by 5-minute breaks.

Use a visual timer to create urgency and focus. This serves as a “deadline generator,” helping you push harder and maintain hope by offering visible progress.

─ ⊹key principle: work Like a warrior

Study in focused sprints. The more intense your focus, the less time you’ll need to study. The idea is depth over duration not 12 hours of mediocre attention, but 2–4 hours of deep concentration.

SECTION 3: MIDDAY REST PERIOD

Timing: After First Study Block Ends (~Early Afternoon)

At this point in the day, your energy naturally dips. It’s essential to give yourself permission to rest. This period is not for distractions like Netflix, YouTube, or social media.

◜⁠✧ Approved Activities:

Exercise or light sports

Socializing with friends/family

Taking a walk, especially outdoors

Napping (ideal: 20 minutes)

The goal here is active recovery choose activities that contrast focused work. Avoid anything with dopamine stimulation that mimics your “vices” or release behaviors.so this break allows your mind to reset, preventing burnout and increasing productivity in the next session.

SECTION 4: EVENING STUDY SESSION (STUDY SESSION #2)

Timing: During the Second Energy Peak (~6:00–8:00 PM)

Return for your second battle. This session is similar in structure to the morning study session, but with a few differences:

◜⁠✧ Change Your Environment:

Consider studying in a different location e.g., library, a new room, or another productive setting. (Personally I move from my desk to the guest room cuz it's far from family chaotic activities ifykyk )

This provides novelty and reduces boredom, which helps counteract distractions that are more likely to arise in the evening.

◜⁠✧ Eliminate Distractions:

If possible, leave your phone behind take that shit in another room

Create a space where your brain associates the environment with productivity.

◜⁠✧ Study Format:

Continue using timed sprints.

Session length: 2 to 3 hours, depending on your focus reserves.

The goal is to extract one final productive effort from your remaining focus reserves for the day.

SECTION 5: NIGHTLY RELEASE PERIOD

Timing: 1–2 Hours Before Bed

This period is crucial and often overlooked. It functions as your psychological release valve a scheduled time for indulging in your “vices” or desires.

◜⁠✧ why it matter

Without a controlled release period, distractions tend to creep in throughout the day. When you tell yourself you’ll “resist” TikTok or YouTube for three straight weeks during exams, it almost always backfires. You end up scattering distractions across the day, killing momentum and u will feel like shit

◜⁠✧ so solution:

Contain those activities to this specific window. Give yourself full permission to indulge whether it's gaming, scrolling, or Netflix. The only rule: Only do it at night.

◜⁠✧ psychological benefit:

You’ll find it easier to say “no” to distractions earlier in the day when you know you can give in later. It reduces the mental burden of constant suppression.

Caution:

This is not a prescription to develop new addictions or deepen existing ones. If you don’t feel the need for this release, skip it . But if you’re honest with yourself about your impulses, this structure helps you keep them in check.

◜⁠✧ ADAPTATION AND FLEXIBILITY

✧ Everyone has a unique biology. Some wake up at 5:00 AM, others at noon.

✧ Adjust the energy curve and study blocks to match your personal circadian rhythm.

✧ This is a template, not a strict prescription. Principles stay constant, execution varies.

KEY TAKEAWAYS:

🗝️ Two deep-focus sessions aligned with your body’s energy peaks yield greater results than dragging your mind across a 12-hour marathon.

🗝️ Midday rest and nightly release are components of a sustainable routine.

🗝️ Use tools like caffeine, timers, environment changes, and goal setting to maintain momentum and focus.

🗝️ Structure breeds freedom. When your day is mapped with intention, your brain is free to focus trust me with this one

✧ This daily routine is not about rigid hours or perfection. It’s about aligning your habits with your biology and respecting your mental bandwidth. When implemented consistently, this system transforms exam season from a stressful grind into an enjoyable and productive challenge.Now take what you've learned and design your daily routine with intention ✧

@bloomzone

[noorpersona]

Favourite Positions: Kenma

Kenma didn’t mind most positions.

He liked slow sex. Quiet sex. Something easy, something lazy—skin against skin while the rest of the world went quiet. He didn’t like being overwhelmed, didn’t like chaos, didn’t like the kind of intimacy that made him feel too seen. Too vulnerable. Too much.

But then there was you.

And you liked control. You liked watching him blush, watching his breath hitch, watching his hands tighten on your thighs as you rolled your hips just right. You liked when his focus shifted from the glowing screen in his hands to the way your body responded to him. You liked riding his face.

At first, Kenma thought he wouldn’t enjoy it. Not because he didn’t want to please you—he always wanted that—but because he assumed he wouldn’t be good at it. That he wouldn’t know what to do with his hands, or how to breathe, or how to make you come apart just from his mouth. He overthought it, worried he’d be awkward or freeze up.

But the first time you sat on his face? Something changed.

He liked the weight of you on his tongue, the pressure of your thighs trembling around his head, your hands fisting in his hair as you got louder, needier, completely undone. The way you moved, desperate and trembling, grinding down into his mouth like you couldn’t help it—it awakened something in him.

It felt powerful.

It felt intimate in a way he didn’t expect.

And that’s what made it his favorite.

Tonight, the room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of his monitor left on in the background, some menu music humming quietly in the silence. The air was warm, still, thick with tension as you straddled his chest, slowly shifting forward until your thighs framed his face.

Your knees hovered above him, thighs already trembling from anticipation, slick dripping down onto his waiting tongue as you tried to hold back—tried to be gentle with him.

Kenma wasn’t having it.

His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you down, anchoring you right where he wanted you.

You gasped, spine arching, one hand flying back to the headboard to steady yourself. “K-Kenma—!”

He groaned into you, eyes fluttering shut, tongue lapping firm, slow stripes from your entrance to your clit, flicking it with just enough pressure to make your hips buck.

“Sit,” he murmured, voice muffled against you. “Don’t run.”

You whimpered at the command. The heat pooling in your core flared violently, and you dropped your weight onto him with a moan. His fingers tightened in approval, guiding you to rock your hips slightly, grinding into his mouth at a pace he set.

That was what he wanted.

He didn’t need to see your face. Didn’t need to speak. He wanted your thighs around his head, your breath hitched and stuttering, your body twitching every time he dragged his tongue in just the right way. He wanted to hear the way you lost yourself.

You gripped the headboard harder, panting, your thighs starting to quiver. "Kenma, f-fuck, I can't—"

He moaned into you, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue moved faster, more deliberate, savoring every whimper you gave him. The vibrations of his groan made your hips jerk, your eyes fluttering shut as you got closer.

You were close. He could feel it.

Your thighs tensed, hips jerking, and suddenly your fingers were yanking at his roots, grounding yourself as you cried out, back arching. Your body bucked against his face, and Kenma didn’t stop. Not even when your orgasm surged through you, not even when your voice broke from how hard you were panting. He kept going, working you through it, tongue relentless, until your thighs twitched around his head.

Only when your hips tried to lift away did he ease up, licking you through the aftershocks like he was savoring dessert, mouth sticky with you, breathing heavy but content.

Your entire body was trembling.

You collapsed onto the bed beside him, flushed and panting, eyes glazed over and lips parted as you struggled to catch your breath.

Kenma wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gold eyes flicking over to meet yours.

“You okay?” he asked, voice hoarse but laced with quiet amusement.

You nodded quickly, still catching your breath, then whimpered when your thighs twitched again. Your skin was buzzing, hypersensitive, your body limp with exhaustion and pleasure.

Kenma smirked faintly, eyes soft but smug. “Good. You were loud.”

You let out a breathy laugh, covering your face with one hand, still dazed. “Shut up.”

He pulled the blankets over you, kissed your cheek softly, and curled in beside you like he hadn’t just ruined you with his mouth.

Lazy. Soft.

Still your favorite gamer boy.

But now?

He had a favorite position, too.

[theliving-radio]

Malleus is great at Spelldrive. Fantastic even! So when he invited you, his Baby Sibling to watch one of his matches against Savanaclaw…

He was not expecting you to be rooting for the other team.

“KICK HIS ASS KINGSCHOLAR!” You shout from the benches, decked out in… Savanaclaw dorm merch??? Where did you get that?????

Leona glanced over at you and rolled his eyes, but there was no annoyance in it. In fact, he looked smug as hell over the fact you kept cheering for him instead of the lizard.

Malleus was ready to wipe his smirk clean off his face. Maybe if he showed off a bit, you would cheer for him.

Oh how wrong he was.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! RUGGIE GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!”

Ruggie wasn’t even insulted, he only laughed at the entertainment you were presenting him and the team. The whole Savanaclaw Spelldrive team were also finding amusement in the whole ordeal too. But there was an issue…

Malleus was becoming more aggressive with his moves.

Every goal he made, every maneuver he made was with purpose. That purpose?

To get your approval.

Leona would usually be getting annoyed or angry by the fact that his team was about to be beat by Malleus. But instead he also found amusement over the fact that he would get all butt hurt over his Dear Baby Sibling supporting a different team.

And he found an opening.

Just when Malleus was distracted by trying to impress you, Leona skillfully gets the disc in the goal.

“YAAAASSSSS!” You fist bump the air, screaming at the top of your lungs.

This went on for two hours.

Once the match ended (it was a tie) Leona flew over to you on his broom. He raised a brow as he looked at the poor outfit you picked out to support his Dorm. “I fully support this, but I am curious… why suddenly cheer for our team? You just upset your Dear Big Brother.”

You cross your arms and let out a huff. “Horton needs to be taken down a few pegs.” Leona gives you a look. “… also he pissed me off.”

“Elaborate.”

“He ate the pint of ice cream I was saving for myself!”

You could hear Ruggie wheezing in the background from overhearing that. Leona’s shoulder shake a bit and he tries to contain his own laughter.

Meanwhile just across the field, Malleus was currently pressing his forehead against the Spelldrive goalie. Lilia snickers as he watches the young fae try to find an answer on why his own dear baby sibling would root for the other team!

Malleus was sulking like this for the next 30 minutes. You had to go down and get him.

“You didn’t support me…”

“Are you really going to continue being butt hurt over this?” You cross your arms as you stared at him.

Malleus just pouts as he finally lifts his head away from the goalie post. He looks over at you, his pout clearly written all over his face. You couldn’t help but snort.

“You laugh at my pain?”

“Hey, you did this. If you hadn’t eaten my ice cream I wouldn’t be supporting Leona and his team.”

Malleus pauses as he looks down at you. “You supported someone else because I upset you?”

You shrugged, “Call it me being petty.”

Malleus couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as he ruffles your hair. You let out a groan from the action.

“I promise to never do such a thing again to upset you.”

“You better! I spent so much just for that small pint! If it was Grim, I maybe would have forgiven him. But you! You know better!”

“I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you as many pints of ice cream as you like.”

The Spelldrive game today ended in a tie, but Malleus felt like the winner knowing that his Dear Baby Sibling wasn’t upset with him.

Two weeks later, Malleus and his dorm went against Heartslabyul…

You were decked out in Heartslabyul merch, and Malleus had to figure out what he did this time to upset you.

[moyazaika]

PRESQUE VU

♡ ⋮ yandere ‘boyfriend’ x gn reader

cw ☆ it’s going to hurt.

“i don’t blame you, babe.” his fingers are intrusive, but gentle, as he pries your mouth open. his thumb is calloused, and you can feel the rough skin pressing against the soft flesh of your bottom lip and pulling it down with a pinch. “happens to the best of us,” he says, not unkindly. “and besides, i’m here to take care of you, yeah?”

you give him a sorry excuse of a nod, and he smiles at you over his glasses. “i love that, i ever tell you? when you show me you understand me?” he sighs. “i fucking love it.”

you can see your reflection in the glasses. faint, but unbearably noticeable for every last line of desperation. look at you, nodding again; going yes—yes, i understand you.

do you, really?

“see? you’re so good to me.” beyond the image of yourself, you glimpse the twinkle of his approval (and consequently; your assured safety—at least for now) in his eyes. he only wears his glasses in the early mornings and evenings, when he hasn’t got his contacts in yet. and he wouldn’t right now, considering the two of you’d just woken up. “sometimes, i almost think i don’t deserve you.”

you think of something to say, almost immediately. think of the words so fast that you end up losing them—slipping somewhere just out of your reach.

ah, come on—!

you know they’re important. these words, they mean a lot. it’s imperative you recall them; if only so they can leave your lips.

“but then i think,” dawn’s sun is gentle, blurry glow soft through the bathroom window; hitting him so nicely, and bathing the best and worst of him in gold. “who better for me than you?” features you’ve memorised down to the last detail, your inclination to observe and remember vacillating between an obedience rooted in fear and a strange, beautiful sense of duty owed to what could only be an even stranger sort of love. “and who better for you than me?”

please come back. what were you going to say? it’s—it’s right there, you know it is and you just—what was it, again?

you need to remember. these are very important words that must be said—!

“and no matter how many times i ask myself these two questions,” his other hand, just as rough and warm, squeezes the rolled up toothpaste onto the wet, bent bristles of his toothbrush. it’s a fresh white with specks of bright blue. “the answer is always the exact same. and isn’t that absolutely beautiful?”

he carefully cradles your face with one hand, the other holding the toothbrush by its hilt—or is it called a handle? a body? these autonomous concepts are far beyond your understanding. you perceive even the most mundane object in the only way you know how which is only the one way you’ve been taught to live by.

(hurt.)

but that’s not what you were looking for. no, you’re losing yourself—going off track. you frown, dig deeper. it’s frustrating and you hate the feeling.

you were going to say something—you had to be careful of what you said; speak up only if you’d thought what you were going to say through very carefully—

and here was something you’d thought to waste your few precious words on; only to forget—!

“don’t get lost in your head, lovely.” you blink. look up to find him watching you expectantly.

you realise with a sinking feeling that you’ve been gone for longer than you’d managed to catch. you don’t let that happen too often, nowadays. and for good reason. you immediately make a mental note beneath his curious gaze not to let it happen again.

“there you are. hi, darling. i really hate when you leave me like that.”

you’ve learnt to be attentive and observant, attuned to his every desire—and truthfully, as he often asks you when his mouth is sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck; are they really that different to yours?

so when you notice that his eyes are focused on your lips, instinctively, you part them with a shuddering breath; stand right on your tippy toes and slide your palms up, up, up his body and right over his shoulders—

“oh,” you’re knocked off kilter when his chest, as warm and strong and unyielding as ever beneath your pliant hands, reverberates with unexpected low laughter. you take a step back, but you can see in the reflection of his glasses that he sees it as a stumble; the falter of shame at him having caught your hand in a metaphorical cookie jar. “oh, poor baby. i wasn’t—”

he straightens. catches his breath to wipe a tear from his eye. “oh, darling. you thought i was going to kiss you?”

you stammer, pathetically, hopelessly; only end up looking like even more of a fool when the uncertain edges of an excuse in the back of your mind fail to solidify into something sharper; something that would cut and sink and stay under his skin.

it’s not your fault. really—! you’re just trying to remember those words you’d lost a second ago—where did they go?

he watches with great, quiet amusement as the words continue to evade you, despite your best efforts. eventually, your jaw falls slack and the cat really has got your tongue and even though you know the cat is right around the corner you can’t—can’t quite reach it to get the words back—when they were only just here one second—

“hey. that’s alright.” he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, and you forgo any last, sad attempt at trying to talk. “i know, baby. i got you. i get it. you understand me, and i understand you. that’s how this works. you don’t have to explain yourself.”

the words in your head are getting closer. clearer. you can feel it; are acutely aware of the fact that you’re on the brink of a breakthrough. monumental for yourself, to know what to say for today, but worth very little to him.

“i’m sorry for laughing. you’re just so cute. i promise i’ll give you a kiss after, okay? i’ll give you all of the kisses you want, darling.” you nod again, more desperate this time. you want him to think back on this morning and remember his glowing success at solidifying your obedience rather than your own spectacular failure at defying him. his grip loosens, hands slide down to your chin—a finger tapping against your jaw with expectation. “but only if you can go back to showing me you’re listening. makes sense?”

it’s very important that you show him you’re listening. very important not to lose yourself in your own head.

“alright, darling. be patient, okay? this is going to sting for a bit. might hurt you a little. so hold onto me if you need, but do not,” he smiles softly, “even think about pulling away. alright?”

the last time you’d lost yourself in your head had also been the first.

you remember, still, looking up at him through your lashes the same way you are now. though, then, you’d been crying. you could afford to do that, before—wave the markers of resistance around like a white flag. it should have been easy; you’d surrender physically—but you wouldn’t really be there mentally. thought that would make the violating ordeal easier to bear.

he’d caught on, of course. the minute your eyes glazed over and your jaw went slack. he hadn’t even pushed his fingers (still slick from your arousal) past your lips—he rolled his eyes. muttered something to himself and got up, instead. you chose not to come back just yet; fearing he’d just return any second now and try again.

from somewhere far away, you’d heard the whistle of the kettle; both at once a shrill scream and yet as silent as a whisper, over the sound of his restless pacing in the kitchen, and then the strangely quiet steps down the hall again.

“you want to zone out when i’m speaking to you, baby?” he’d cooed. pulled out your tongue, pinched between his thumb and forefinger—warm skin unbearably uncomfortable against the wet, squirming muscle that he yanked further out of your mouth. you were there, now, physically and mentally—because you’d seen the kettle in his hands.

“darling, if you think i’m going to just let you check out on me,” he flippantly spoke over your screaming and thrashing, his knee on your chest was painfully digging into your ribs. your body was shaking violently. his hands were as steady as his gaze. eyes trained on your mouth, just like now. “then you don’t know me at all, and that’s very disappointing. so i thought,” he said casually, lips curling into something sweet. “maybe i should show you exactly what sort of man i am. just so you know not to ignore me, again. just so you remember to pay attention.”

and when you screamed again, he’d silently tipped the spout of the kettle over, fingers loosely wrapped around the hilt—and down, down, down had the boiling water gone; spilling straight into your mouth and right onto your poor little tongue.

so today, on this slow morning where the sun hasn’t even risen yet and the stars are still out in the sky, you listen very closely to what he says.

he lines the toothbrush up against your teeth. “open your mouth for me, baby. a little wider.”

you obey.

“that’s perfect, love. come just a little closer, will you? tilt your head up.” he kisses your nose. “good job, baby. now stay still.”

he’s looking down at you through his glasses with a quiet intensity, focused entirely on the task at hand. he still looks golden in the light of the rising sun.

the warm hand holding your jaw in place is soft and his movements are careful as he moves the bristles of the brush over your every tooth with a gentle affection.

he is cleaning you, helping you heal when he takes the utmost care not to let the brush he wields touch your tongue for even the barest moment; the muscle is lying uselessly limp, slack and scarred in the cavern of your mouth—heavier now from the burden of an unspoken confession.

because the words that had been just out of reach have come back to you as quick as they’d first disappeared. in a second, you almost stumble beneath the weight of them; the burden of needing to blurt out what you’ve worked so very hard to get back; something you need to say because you looked for it and found it and you need to tell him. you need to speak. let it out—

say it—!

but you can’t.

so because you can’t quite speak again just yet, even though he does his best not to make it hurt for you any more, you look up and smile at him; sweet, eager, and bright.

his lips curl. you glimpse the approval in his gaze. let yourself feel safe, again, in his hold as he presses another kiss to your nose. “i got you, baby. don’t even need to use your words for me to understand you. i know you already. like i said, nobody better, yeah?”

you can’t tell whether he’s referring to you or himself, so you stay very still as he continues brushing your front teeth, positioning your head at different angles as he makes sure to get every tooth. spends extra time on your canines, you notice.

“we’re going to have such a beautiful day, darling. i think i’m going to love you very kindly today. want to show you that i can be nice, baby. how’s that sound, hm?”

and even though you can see in the reflection of his glasses that despite his careful efforts, your gums are bleeding from the bent bristles of the toothbrush, the blood having mixed with the toothpaste, now staining your teeth a soft, foamy pink; because you won’t quite be able to say it just now—

it’s all you can do to split your lips into a grin and hope he understands.

[soleauclub]

The Anti-Inflammatory Foods Every Beginner Wellness Girl Should Know

by Soleau Club

If you’re bloated, tired, puffy, moody, breaking out, or just feeling off—there’s a good chance inflammation is playing puppet master behind the scenes. But don’t freak out. You don’t need to do a 14-day celery juice cleanse or cry in front of a Whole Foods salad bar. You just need the right foods. Think of this as your soft launch into anti-inflammatory girliehood.

Here’s what should definitely be in your wellness starter pack:

01. Berries (AKA nature’s candy with a skincare bonus)

Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries—these little babies are loaded with antioxidants that fight oxidative stress (aka the stuff that dulls your glow). Throw them in smoothies, yogurt, or snack on them straight. You’ll be feeding your skin from the inside out.

02. Leafy Greens (The hotter your gut, the hotter your glow)

Spinach, kale, arugula, Swiss chard—your cells love this stuff. They're packed with vitamins, minerals, and fiber that help calm your system down and get things moving (if you know what I mean).

03. Fatty Fish (Like salmon, but make it chic)

Omega-3s are the main character here—essential fatty acids that help reduce inflammation and keep your brain, skin, and hormones vibing. Not into fish? Try algae oil, walnuts, or chia seeds for a plant-based glow-up.

04. Turmeric (Golden latte, anyone?)

This isn’t just a wellness buzzword—turmeric contains curcumin, an actual anti-inflammatory superhero. Just pair it with black pepper to make it absorbable. Add it to rice, soups, or milk for an aesthetic little moment.

05. Olive Oil (The European auntie-approved elixir)

Forget seed oils. Cold-pressed extra virgin olive oil is loaded with healthy fats and antioxidants. Drizzle it on everything from roasted veggies to your life crisis. It’s luxurious, healing, and effortlessly hot.

06. Avocados (A wellness girl rite of passage)

Creamy, delicious, and full of monounsaturated fats and fiber that help stabilize blood sugar and reduce inflammation. Also: they’re basically edible Botox.

07. Ginger (Spicy little inflammation slayer)

Whether you’re sipping ginger tea, adding it to your stir-fry, or blending it into your green juice, this root brings the anti-inflammatory heat in the best way. Bonus: it helps digestion and combats nausea (aka bloating’s evil cousin).

08. Green Tea (Because coffee doesn’t always love you back)

Antioxidant-rich, soothing, and a little less harsh on your nervous system. The polyphenols in green tea work quietly behind the scenes to reduce inflammation and keep you cool, calm, and collected.

09. Cruciferous Veggies (The bloat-fighting bad girls of the veggie world)

Broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts—these are detox queens. They help support liver function and hormone balance, which equals less bloating, clearer skin, and fewer random emotional spirals.

10. Dark Chocolate (Yes, seriously.)

Opt for 70% cacao or higher, and enjoy it in moderation. It's loaded with antioxidants and can help reduce inflammation—plus it satisfies sweet cravings in a way that still feels intentional, not chaotic.

Anti-inflammatory eating isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being in tune. Your body doesn’t want restriction—it wants support. Feed it well, and it will reward you with glowy skin, stable energy, and good moods that aren’t caffeine-dependent.

Follow @soleauclub for more beginner-friendly wellness tips that make you feel hot, not stressed.

[sturnstarrz]

three times fwb!chris showed you one of his favorite hobbies, one time he chose to make you never forget…

contains: smut, oral fem receiving, spanking, friends with benefits trope

ᰔ the first time, chris was so gentle. you had only known him for a few weeks, yet things had moved fast between you two. he was always talking about this obsession he had. who could blame you for wanting to find out what his "oral fixation" meant? when he had you beneath him for the first time, he showed a tenderness that you didn’t expect. he held your hand, knotting your fingers with his. he kept a soft grip on your thigh with his other hand, his mouth warm against your core. tongue sliding through your folds as you cried out, your body weakening against the sheets of his bed. it felt incredible. and you never wanted him to stop.

ᰔ the second time was on the wooden desk in your dorm room. you barely had time to lock the door when chris pressed against you, standing in between your legs as you sat on the edge. he had slipped his fingers under your skirt, tugging your panties down your legs. his breath fanned across your neck as he touched you, feeling how wet you were. your eyes darted to the door, the thrill and fear of someone walking in making your heart race in your chest. “chris…” you started, but he kneeled down then, pushed your legs apart and yanked your hips closer, making you yelp quietly. “shhh…” he hushed, smoothing his hands up your calves. he looked up at you, a glint in his eyes that left you dripping. “try not to be too loud.” he warned before placing your legs over his shoulders and burying his face into your pussy. you whimpered as softly as you could, your fingers tangled into his hair. he moaned lowly when your grip tightened, tugging on his roots as he fucked you with his tongue, already building a warmth in your belly.

ᰔ and the third time… was different. you didn’t know whether it was the argument you two had earlier that day or your constant attitude you’d had since then. he was frustrated with you, as much as you felt pissed off at him. yet the sexual tension was increased and you couldn’t deny how hot he looked when he was mad. “what d'ya want then? what do i need to do to get you to drop the fuckin' attitude huh?” he demanded as he towered over you from your spot at the end of his bed, a look of defiance across your face. you didn't really have an answer. you didn't know why you were so worked up. all you knew was that there was a throbbing ache between your legs growing stronger with each passing second. chris looked down then, noticing the way your thighs were squeezing together with need. he knew your body well enough by that time to figure out exactly what you wanted. a smirk appeared on his lips as he spoke. “mm, i see.. you just need me to make it all better don't you.." the tone of his voice had turned low and raspy, a shiver running down your spine as he slid his hands upwards on your bare thighs. chris knew exactly how to fix your little problem but he wanted to hear you say it. to know that you could only get the relief you needed from him and him only. he always did have a big ego.

within a matter of minutes, he had you flipped around on his bed, your panties shoved to the side and your face pressed into his pillow. your ass was up in the air, giving him complete access to your weeping pussy. he held a firm grip on the backside of your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. he dragged his tongue through your core torturingly slow, circling around your clit before switching to your entrance, tasting you with an approving hum. the vibration of his sounds and the feeling of the wet muscle against you had your head spinning. you were moaning his name, a small puddle of drool forming from your mouth. you wanted more but he was enjoying teasing you a little too much. you whined impatiently, but it turned into a gasp as he landed his hand against your ass cheek with a quick but sharp sting. "be fuckin' patient." he scolded, before pressing a soothing kiss to your skin. "gonna make you feel good.. that's what you want, don't you baby?" you nod your head quickly in response and grip onto the sheets beneath you. "then stop bein' such a little brat." he replied, attaching his lips back onto your folds, his tongue sliding into you deeply.

[the-oracleof-delphi]

PAC: Your Future Spouse - their Relationship with their Parents

What sort of dynamics do they share with their parents? What are they like? We will not be focusing on genders or relations per se, rather dominant masculine energy and feminine energy in their lives. For ease of understanding I will use the term "mother" and "father". Pick a picture:

Pile One - Hot chocolate & marshmallow

For some of you, your future spouse may come from a single parent household. Their mother may not have spent a lot of time with them while they were growing up, maybe she did not get the chance to. She was busy, may have been the sole earner of the family, had to cater to a lot of people, could only take care of the material needs of her children but not their emotional needs. Your spouse sees their mother as someone who is stern and emotionally closed off. But at the same time she is wise - somewhat of a 'guiding light' for him, I sense a lot of respect and gratitude towards her. If there is a sibling, then both of them definitely look up to their mother a lot. I feel like they always consult her when making any career-related decisions. To them, she is a logical, capable, and a practical person who is rooted in reality. For a few of you, your spouse may be part of a family business. For others, they may be pursuing higher education - their career is funded by their mother in some way. The father was probably absent. For a very few of you, he may have cheated on your spouse's mother (I feel like he had a second family ? o.O) The parents may have separated when your spouse was quite young. I see a lack of communication with the father, there is quite a bit of distance, coldness and separation. For some, the father may have passed away.

Pile Two - Christmas cookies

Currently, your future spouse may be living at a distance from their family and they miss their home a lot. Especially now, during the holiday season - if they didn't get the chance to visit their hometown. Your spouse may get along very well with their mother - they may be a bit of a mama's boy. To them she is a nurturing and supportive person and I can see they are attached to her, but in a very healthy way. The mother is a source of emotional and material stability for them. They have a lot of fond memories from their childhood with her that they look back to from time to time. She is someone who celebrates your spouse. She never holds them back and encourages them to expand their horizons. Communication between them is free-flowing and easy-going. The father provides material stability to your spouse. Although they see their father as lot less emotional, and may be a bit more rigid and tough with them. They may sometimes feel like they need to earn their father's approval and that their father is generally displeased with them. This is your spouse's pov and may not be necessarily true. Overall I see a happy and satisfied family.

Pile Three - Christmas wreath

Your future spouse definitely comes from a pretty well-off family. I see the mother as bit of a prominent figure here - she has a lot on her plate. If she is working, then she is in a position of authority, if not then she probably comes from a very affluent family - I can see both power and prestige. Your spouse's relation with their mother may be stressful at times. But I don't sense any serious resentment towards her. They may feel like their mother never has enough time for them. Maybe she compensates by showering your spouse with a lot of material gifts. Although your spouse don't see their mother as much as they wished to, she still is a source of great comfort and joy for them. She is the one who makes the family complete. They are quite pampered and spoiled by her. She provides them both materially and emotionally. Communication between them is pretty direct and clear-cut. Your spouse may get some form of inheritance from their mother in the future. Their relationship with their father too is pretty balanced and stable. But, at the same time it can be a bit business-like (?) the father maybe a bit firm and emotionally detached. I feel like your spouse craves emotional closeness with their father but they feel it is out of their reach. Maybe in the past they felt like the father intentionally robbed them of that emotional fulfillment. But their views may have changed now. They definitely see their father to be someone at the top of whatever they do - well respected and secure. There is a lot of admiration for him from your spouse. edit: corrected typo, changed a few lines. Overall meaning stays the same.

Credit: @/i-hani and @/saradika-graphics on tumblr

[onlinedolly]

cw: incest, p in v, mentions of cum

you already knew he didn’t like him, it didn’t take a lot to read your fathers face these days. he sat in a large chair, overlooking your boyfriend through a pair of readers. you’d went on a date previously, and despite your grown age, your dad still gave you a strict eleven o clock curfew, your boyfriend making it his mission to be in good graces with your father as he drops you off.

“w-well i’ll get going now,” your boyfriend stutters out as he leans down to give you a nervous kiss on the cheek. you can feel your father’s, erwin, eyes bore into the back of your head.

with a slam of the door you turn around with a pout already expecting what’s coming, “he’s an…interesting fella.” erwin speaks out, a edge in his voice.

“you don’t like him,” you pout out, stomping your foot against the ground and crossing your arms across your chest.

“i didn’t say that.” he says nonchalantly, looking back down at the book he’s reading.

“you don’t have too,” you slink into the living room, sprawling out against the couch next to him. “just be honest.”

he looks up from his book, his eyes scanning the expanse of your body before he sets the book on the table, “i don’t approve if that’s what your asking.”

you sigh out, a bit dramatic, as you sprawl yourself out more, “you don’t approve of anyone!” you whine out, but when erwin gives you a stern look you shut up immediately giving him a look back of remorse.

“that’s correct,” he nods his head like you said the most obvious thing in the world, “i don’t think these guys are good enough for you.”

“why not? they’re all nice enough.” you roll your eyes, sitting up with your knees tucked under you.

erwin leans forward at this, elbows resting on his knees as he shrugs, “they’re boys.”

“they’re grown” you state matter of factly, as erwin stands, sitting close next to you as he brushes some hair away from your eyes.

“they’re still boys, baby.” he hums, petting the back of your hair, “i’d only approve of a man.”

he was sitting closer to you, knees knocking together as you gasp at the way he whispers out the last part of his sentence. something about the way he spoke felt dirty, taboo almost as he leans in to place a kiss to your cheek.

“a man?” you whimper out under his touch, thighs clenched together. “like who?”

okay, let’s get this out of the way and say you’ve always been attracted to your father. it was a deep rooted thought that had lived in your brain, how handsome he was, sharp jaw and hooked nose. so with him this close you it made a fire light from deep within you.

he presses another kiss to your temple, running his hand up the curve of your thigh and he whispers in your ear, “someone who gets you baby girl. someone like me.”

it felt like something had burst inside of you, red hot lust, as you looked at erwin. your fathers eyes hooded as he leans into press his lips to the corner of your mouth. this was a long time coming, you’d thought. you weren’t oblivious of the way your father looks at you, up and down regularly taking you in like he was a starved man. his lips felt hot against your skin as he kisses you again, the other corner of your mouth. before finally leaning in and placing a kiss to your lips.

the kiss was soft and hot, an immediate reaction as you kiss him back with passion. the kiss is deep, immediate tongue as teeth clink together. you run your fingers through your fathers hair, messing up the usual gelled style. he works his way down from your lips to your neck, open mouthed as you felt his drool wet your neck.

“be a good thing and lay down.” he speaks, moving your body so your sprawled back on the couch and he climbs over you, placing his leg between yours making them part. “i’ve needed this for so long.” he speaks honestly, leaning down to kiss from your neck to your collarbone.

“dad—“ you gasp out, legs spreading even wider as you hear his belt unbuckle. his cock springs out and it’s large and heavy as it hits against your thigh and you almost mewl looking at it.

unbeknownst to your father you weren’t a virgin, but your never seen anything this big. you shuddered, not sure how you would take it all. to that he laughs, running his hand through your hair as he harshly grips your face between his larger hand.

“don’t pretend to be scared now baby, i know what little whores like you get up too.” he laughs and you look at him in disbelief. whore? so he knew. this whole time. you shudder at the thought of him knowing, how your late nights out at a friends or after school activities were facades he saw right through. he brought his hand down to push your shorts and your panties to the side, relishing in the slick covering your bare cunt.

before you know it, with no prep work, he’s pushing himself inside of you. it’s ripping you open as he bullies himself inside your cunt, your drooling around him as he bottoms out inside you with a grunt.

“better then i ever imagined baby— fuck.” he moans, beginning a slow pace, nice enough to get you used to him.

“needed you so long, dad.” you’re already rambling out, blissed in the way your walls form around him.

“did ya baby? is that why you brought them home? those—“ he thrusts hard then, enough to send a yelp out of you. “boys.” he says it as if it’s a fact, as if the reason you entertained anyone of the male sex was to curb your desire for him, and you suppose that’s not inherently untrue, especially when your moaning with his cock ramming into you at a rough pace.

he was close to cumming, you could tell in the way his body twitched and you panted at the thought of him cumming inside you. he answers your prayers, stuttering his hips as he feels you with seed. it sends you into your own orgasm, clenching around him as your body shakes.

he’s grunting, howling like an animal as he fills you up, it feels endless until he stops and he’s pulling out of you. placing a kiss to your forehead, “no more boys, hm?”

[dizzyditzblitz]

Wedding Day

something indulgent, and because I literally pulled Shadow Milk himself from the Wedding Gacha and it gave me a writing idea sjfjsd

i do not proofread

Shadow Milk x Fem!Reader

Ohh he was so nervous.

His stomach swirled and knotted like the endless steps of The Spire.. he felt losing his head was less painful than these anxiety pangs..

Apparently, Y/N and Shadow Milk had the same idea—to propose. But Shadow Milk's proposal was nothing short of grandeur... yet he stopped himself.

He didn't want to show everyone a proposal that was meant for Y/N and Y/N alone. Shadow Milk wanted to show her off, revel, and show off his beloved.. but he also wanted to keep her to himself completely.

Besides, even despite having the same idea, it seemed Y/N had beaten him from the punchline. She had proposed via a classic, a dinner. And Shadow Milk absolutely sobbed. Makeup smearing everywhere.

He bawled like a baby, tears of joy and mumbles of much needed assurance that Y/N was sure of marrying him. And Y/N did just that; reassuring him that she meant her proposal and truthfully wished to be with Shadow Milk for the rest of their lives.

And when Candy Apple found out she was immediately flared in jealousy, but was caught off guard when Y/N asked her to be her maid of honor. To say Candy Apple was caught off guard would be an understatement, but begrudgingly, she agreed—for Shadow Milk Cookie.

Shadow Milk actually had asked Pure Vanilla to be his best man; whether that was an ego move or not only Shadow Milk knows. Pure Vanilla had to hold back a chuckle and the urge to poke some jokes at Shadow Milk, but he ultimately agreed.

Black Sapphire was trusted with planning, especially the music since Y/N trusted him with such responsibilities. The entire kingdom was invited, Beasts and all.

And today was the day.

Y/N was getting ready with Wedding Cake Cookie, and it was time for the ceremony to begin.

Shadow Milk was in a white wedding suit, but of course, his sleeves were mismatched. His hair was up in a neat ponytail. A bowtie in the way of an eyeball. His tailcoat dragged and curled on the floor, some blue roses sewn on the edges.

Shadow Milk was fidgeting with the hem of his sleeves, staring down in deep thought as he waited for Y/N to arrive.

What if she doesn't show?

What if she bails?

What if she changed her mind?

His mind raced, his eyes slowly widening with each spiral of thought until he heard Black Sapphire begin playing the piano—classic wedding music.

Immediately, Shadow Milk looked up, and the double doors of the aisle opened, and his eyes widened into stars. His heart borderline stopped.

Y/N began to walk down the brilliant blue carpet. All eyes on her. The wedding dress she wore was white and lacey, but then it layered from baby blue to black as the last layer. Her face was covered with a white veil, the flowers in her hand an array of black and white roses.

As Y/N passed each bench, little gasps could be heard and murmurs of approval. Candy Apple had to agree with crossed arms Y/N looked cute.

And Shadow Milk's eyes didn't dare bat away in deep-rooted fear she'll vanish. He held out his hand when Y/N approached, Y/N's hand found his as she stood in front of him.

Shadow Milk's skin prickled with excitement, immediately tuning everything and everyone out except Y/N.

They were finally here. Together. As one.

He blinked, remember to gently lift the veil and reveal Y/N's face and her dolled up makeup. Shadow Milk's hand found Y/N's cheek, cupping it the entire time.

Vows were sworn; promised. Rings were slipped onto each other's fingers. And the ceremony was sealed..

" You may now kiss the bride," the words echoed—rang in Shadow Milk's ears, catching Y/N in a kiss.

Their beings blended.. hearts snug with one another. Becoming one. Their cravings for connection satisfied. The loneliness in their hearts being sedated.

In their own little worlds, the outside world concluded the ceremony with some cheering and clapping..

While some began to make their way to the lunch provided, Shadow Milk and Y/N kept back and pretty huddled up in their own bubbles. Nothing but love radiated from them both, faces inches apart. A little conversation of their own..

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Howdy, Sailor

CCF Spring Break Prompt: "I don't do shorts." | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | CW: None | Tags: AU, Eddie Needs Shorts, Eddie Doesn't Wear Shorts, But The Salesclerk Is Awfully Handsome, Meet Cute

Eddie hates shopping. He'd rather be anywhere else, doing anything else. Root canal? Sure.

"Just try these on!" Gareth says, lobbing a lump of fabric at him, hitting him square in the chest, and they are the wildest printed swim trunks he's ever seen.

"I don't do shorts," Eddie says, letting them fall to the ground, "especially not ones that loud."

He didn't realize a salesclerk was right there, until he reaches down to pick up the dropped merchandise off Eddie's boots, automatically folding them perfectly.

"Maybe you should," he says, and Eddie isn't following.

"Maybe I should what?" 

"Wear shorts," he says, and grins at Eddie. 

Eddie sort of feels like he's being made fun of, or maybe flirted with, he can't tell which. And it puts him off-kilter.

"Sorry, it was rude I dropped them," Eddie says. Because that much he does know. He was being rude.

"I have to clean up the dressing rooms, a pair on the floor out here is nothing," he says, and Eddie looks at his name tag. Steve.

"Dingus, I need help!" a girl calls out from behind the register, and Eddie watches as Steve smiles at him once more, before heading up her way.

"If you're done flirting," Gareth says, holding up a black pair of trunks that are longer than nearly everything else, a question in his eyes.

"Fine," Eddie says, snagging them from his hand.

He'll buy anything to get this over with. He wasn't on board for this outing, anyway. And he definitely hadn't signed up for shorts.

But he carries them to the register, where Steve picks them up, and looks them over.

"I don't think you're an extra large," Steve says, looking at the tag.

The girl looks him up and down, "He's not. Not unless you want to end up like the Coppertone Girl," Robin, her name tag reads, quips towards Eddie.

Goddamn it, Gareth.

"I thought these were my size?" Eddie accuses Gareth, and Gareth just shrugs. 

"C'mon, I'll help you find the right size," Steve says, and Eddie follows him, even if that feels embarrassing. 

"Are you planning a vacation?" Steve asks, making small talk.

"I'm kinda on one now? My friends want to go to the dive-in. At the beach," Eddie says. "They're showing Jaws. I'm going against my will."

"You don't like Jaws? That sounds fun," Steve asks.

"Like, no. It's fine. I'm just not a beach guy."

"What beach is doing dive-ins? I haven't heard about that," Steve questions.

"Oh, it's not here," Eddie says, "it's at Washington Park Beach. We're just here on spring break."

"You came to the beach and didn't bring trunks?"

"Don't judge me," Eddie teases, and Steve grins. 

Eddie looks back at the abysmal options, as Steve pulls another pair from the rack. The same black ones, "Medium or large?"

Eddie doesn't know, and shrugs. Doesn't really care. He'll never wear them again.

"Well, let's have you try them on."

Eddie wishes he'd just picked one, he doesn't want to try on clothes, but he still follows Steve.

In the dressing room, he sheds his boots and jeans, and pulls up the medium pair. They fit in the waist fine, but they're obscene in the crotch, and he laughs.

"Let me see," Steve says from the other side of the curtain. 

Eddie pulls it open, and Steve laughs, muttering, "Oh my, you're gonna need some bigger shorts."

It makes Eddie laugh, and before he pulls the curtain back closed, Steve slides two fingers into his waistband. Fingers touching his skin. Eddie stutters, stilling. He realizes he's seeing how they fit, but Eddie's sure his cheeks have reddened because of it.

"Yeah, the large should fit you better," he declares, and he's right. Looser everywhere, and that's absolutely preferred. 

He slides open the curtain, and Steve looks him up and down, then nods his approval. He doesn't take the measurement again, but Eddie wouldn't have been opposed to it, if he had. Eddie doesn't even know why his opinion means anything to him. This guy is a stranger, but he seems like the authority, even if Eddie knows he's likely just a minimum wage dude, pretending to know about the clothes.

"Much better," Steve says, and Eddie pulls the curtain closed again.

Jeff, Goodie and Gareth are all in the water, floating on tubes as the movie plays on the big screen, casting shadows all over the place in the dark.

Eddie's sitting on the edge of the rented boat, feet in the water.

He feels someone, or something, saddle right up next to him, rocking the boat, and he hopes to fucking hell it's not a shark. Are there sharks in Lake Michigan? He thinks not. So, he turns to mouth off, and finds Steve grinning at him. 

"Permission to come aboard?"

Eddie grins, and offers him a hand, pulling him up next to him. That's when he sees the bright, very short pair of trunks that he's sure came from the store he works in.

"Howdy, sailor," Steve says.

"Hi," Eddie says, suddenly shy, and pulls his hair over his mouth. Steve's here. Steve.

"The shorts look good. I kind of thought I'd turn up and you'd be in your jeans," Steve teases. 

"I thought about it, definitely," Eddie says, and he can't believe Steve came here. Like, he sounded interested, but Eddie figured that was just his job. Make the customer seem like whatever they're buying clothes for is the most interesting thing in the universe.

"I'm glad you didn't," Steve says, and taps him on the thigh. "Hope you don't mind that we came."

Eddie looks around, and sees Robin a few feet away, floating near a pretty blonde girl. 

"Not at all. Hope you're not scared of sharks."

Steve smiles, a grin that looks like he knows far more than Eddie knows, and he nudges Eddie's thigh with his own leg, "I don't know. A little biting has never scared me."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

Notes: Header image is from Dawson's Creek. That's where the dive-in Jaws showing idea came from.

[sxorpiomooon]

How would a tarot reader describe you to them? A pac reading

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Pile 1-

They would describe you as someone who knows when to strike. Someone who's patient and knows when to grab the opportunity, someone who understands the value of the right timing. I had a vision of a cheetah then a cat in their attacking mode waiting to grab their prey. Someone who's hardworking and very detail oriented about their work. Someone who's very traditional too and likes to go by the rules, someone who might also be religious and a good teacher. Someone who teaches very good and will have their juniors looking at them for advices and approval of any sort. Someone who looks for a very equal partnership I'm seeing a lot of this reading revolving around career you'll meet this person when you are working and pretty settled I'm getting 24 or late 20s. This will also be a very true love they might talk about how you will both be equals in relationship and work like a team. I also heard "bosslady"?

Pile 2-

Someone who feels too much guilty about everything, you might be going through a bad phase I think. This pile is most likely to have a very hard terrible time growing up hating themselves and everything and once they grow up they will be all about loving themselves and others, true enlightenment. A lot of rage which is the result of love. Someone who is also probably learning or will learn to see themselves for who they truly are that is, someone who is always in the spotlight and comfortable in it. Someone who always attracts everyone wherever they go I'm seeing sparkly eyeshadow? Golden and blue you might love to dress or style other people up.

Pile 3-

Someone who can give the most heartwarming compliments as well as the most ruthless insults. This reading will be mostly focused on your communication skills. Someone very sure of who they are and their identity. Someone who is capable of making things happen and make sure to do so. Someone who is very blunt and can come across as very blunt sometimes. Someone who goes to the root of the problem to solve it very extraordinary communication skills. Someone who is very insightful and might all of a sudden get inspiration of things I'm seeing a very big map or something. Looking at the other card it makes sense lmao someone who wants to do alot of things just for the sake of doing them. Someone who genuinely lives and experiences.

Pile 4-

Someone very resilient and determined. Someone who just refuses to give up no matter what. Someone who endures very well I had a vision of someone just breathing in a big sun in their chest. Accepting everything like it's your own. Someone who knows how to overcome obstacles. Someone who over analyses and has a very restless mind. I had a vision of someone constantly doing that thing with leg where they are always moving it anxiously. Someone who will achieve alot purely because of their hardwork, determination and resilience. This pile probably needs to hear this, you are going to make it very big pile 4 keep working hard.