#feel free to send me asks or reblog chains

[spxtern]

i need to be more active on here man, particularly with reblogs

[witchyligea]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (⌒‐⌒)

Sitting in the dark

Talking to Aphrodite

Reading books and fully immersing myself in them. I can't do this often unfortunately.

Talking to my best friend

Eating pastry

Watching the rain at night

[highvern]

Rough

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+

Warnings: Cheol’s hands, fingering, spitting, minor pain kink, pussy slapping, teasing/begging, thick dick cheol, unprotected sex, creampie, minor breeding kink, mating press, soft(ish) dom Cheol, strength kink, he’s wearing a watch and his chain, praise

Length: ~2k

Note: an ode to Cheol's hands, and his c*** i needed a cigarette while looking at pictures of his hands for this fic. everyone rot with me @gyuswhore @wonustars @ourdawnishotterthanourday @seokgyuu

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

The lights of the TV illuminate you and your boyfriend’s intertwined forms resting on the sofa. Seungcheol’s hands busy themselves, fingers digging into the sore cords of muscle twisted along your legs. He thinks nothing of it, focused on the drama unfolding on screen while you focus on the cool metal of his watch licking just above your knee.

He smiles when you jump, the tickle of his fingers sending bubbling laughter into the space between you.

“What?” He asks, as if he doesn't have all your weak spots committed to memory.

“Nothing.” you mumble.

“Want me to stop?”

A shake of your head is the only reply Seungcheol needs before he pins your flailing limbs and goes about his business once again. 

His hands always feel incredible. They’re always warm, always gentle despite what lurks beneath the surface. And they’re always on you, in some way or another. 

The roughness of his palm or dig of his fingers are second nature after years of them glued to your body. Whether they’re holding you close or stroking across your cheek as he wakes you with sweet kisses. Heating the small of your back while he guides you in a crowd, or tangled with your own as he whispers his deepest secrets into the dark late at night. You love every part of him but his hands show you a million different ways he feels the same.

You try not to react as he massages up your thighs, the sinew of muscles seizing before they melt under his careful ministrations. 

Every sigh through your nose is a tell Seungcheol is well accustomed to; what you like and what you love. Because he knows you like when he focuses on the curve of your quad, or the meat of your calves until they’re putty.

But you love when he pushes his hand under your oversized shirt and stretches the muscles deeper inside until you vibrate with want.

“You’re not watching the movie.” He whispers into your ear, nose following the curve of your jaw to the place he knows drives you wild.

“I'm a little distracted right now.”

And just like that the thick fingers stuffed in your cunt freeze before retreating. You can’t close your thighs to stop it due to the hand pinning your leg down to his lap with bruising force. But he can’t prevent your free leg from kicking in protest as you beg him to stay.

Seungcheol pinches the inside of your thigh until it stings, “Stop.”

You know that tone. It’s the one that warns you if you keep going, you won’t get what you want; what you need. Seungcheol isn’t a stingy lover but he likes to play and this is his newest game. If you can play along long enough he’ll make it worth your while.

“Eyes on the TV.”

With a harsh swallow you turn back to the screen. Once your boyfriend is sure you won’t look away, his hand returns, three fingers stretching you at a snail's pace. When he’s worked them all in, no longer cautious of your initial discomfort, he stops; focused on curling up against that spot he’s always found with embarrassing ease; pressing until your legs shake and you actually do start dripping into his lap. If it wasn’t for the fabric of your shirt, he could see everything.

The hand on your thigh joins in, the pad of his finger drawing rough circles of your clit. It’s fast and it's dirty but you keep pretending to watch the TV while Suengcheol does as he wants. Your mind is so numb you don’t even realize he’s pushed away the blanket and ruched your shirt up your hips to leave you bare. Not until you hear him spit and feel it land on your exposed clit framed between his fingers.

“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the upholstery. “Please.”

But he’s not done yet. A swift slap to your pussy sends stars in your eyes and your body ten feet in the air if not for the man forcing you in place.

“Just relax, baby.”

You try. And Seungcheol respects your effort because every muscle he worked into submission over the past ten minutes jumps alive under your skin but you sit still in his lap and take what he gives you like he knows you can.

He kisses your cheek before whispering, “I love you.” 

Each word burns into your skin, licks through your blood. He loves you, and you love him and all he wants to do is take care of you. So you try and let him even if it means madness. 

Seungcheol watches you pretend to watch the movie once again, but your mind focuses on the sound of debauchery echoing between your thighs. If you looked down you know what you’d see. The way your pussy clings to his fingers with every stroke out, how they glisten with your arousal, every squeeze; everything. 

All the teasing is enough to make your eyes gloss. Especially when he adds a fourth finger and tells you how perfect you are, how you were made for him, and if you cum right now he’ll give you his cock but you have to earn it.

You want to feel his lips suck around your clit until you're nothing more than an empty shell but you’ll happily settle for the swipes of his fingers. It’s obscene how wet you are and how loud your ruined cunt is over the blasting speakers. 

“C’mon pretty girl,” he coos into your ear. “Come for me.”

The coil winds and winds until it snaps. All the edges ripple, the world blurs. Every breath hurts from the punch in your stomach forcing bolts of electricity through your nerves. 

And Seungcheol doesn’t stop. He keeps going until you’re crying. Only to kiss away each tear with praise and soft lips. You barely crack your eyes open, watching his fingers disappear between his lips, sucking away the mess before he gives you a taste on his mouth.

Eyes shut and boneless in his arms, you let him push and pull you just the way he wants. Your body’s only protest in the exhaustion Seungcheol’s fucked into you with his hands. But it’s not enough to keep you from taking him again.

It never is.

When the jostling stops, you find him kneeling before you. He hasn't bothered to remove his clothes, or yours. Just forces your shirt over your breasts and his pants down until he's bare. Thick thighs frame an equally thick cock you know like the back of your hand.

If your boyfriend thinks you’re beautiful then he is other worldly in the glow of the LED screen. 

Hands anchored on the back of your knees, you spread out for his eyes only. Seungcheol’s mouth waters at your wrecked pussy, soaked and swollen from his attention, begging to be split on his cock. The drooling tip of his length taps against your clit, sending you deeper into the spiral, each nudge making your muscles twitch until he uses his thumb to catch on your opening and force himself through the mind numbing clench.

Seungcheol goes slow, pressing forward only a millimeter at a time, barely giving you a taste before he pulls back and starts again. If the way you’re positioned didn’t prevent you from rushing him forward than the fist around his cock would as he teases you until you're begging and he’s puffing up with pride at how desperate you are. 

Just when you think he’s ready to give in, almost flat against one another, he pulls out.

“I sweat to fucking god if you don’t fu—ckkkkkkk,”

Sheathed to the base in your heat Seungcheol finds paradise, dick twitching with every breath. The rough skin of his palms circle your ankles, spreading them up and out of the way so he can lean forward and give you what you want; your pussy stretched to the brim on his cock while he fucks every last thought out of your head.

“Move.” You mewl, barely human, shaking under his weight.

Settling your legs over his shoulders, he folds you in half, freeing the hands you love so much to do as he pleases. One lands just above your head to keep him from completely crushing you and the other cradles your jaw, thumb brushing across your lower lip before he meets you with a kiss.

His tongue glides against your own, fucking your mouth as his hips curl in time. Every thrust forward forces the air in your lungs up your throat to be swallowed by your boyfriend. He strokes you to life, pinned in place, helpless, glowing.

Seungcheol groans as he fucks you harder. “Fuck, you take it so well.”

You're shaking, vibrating from the synapses firing through every inch of your being. Chin dipped, you watch him wreck you, creaming around the base of his length like he’s fucked you for hours rather than minutes.

You’ll come like this, without any pressure on your clit; just the delicious drag of his thick cock in your walls, crushed under his weight and entirely at his mercy. Helpless Seungcheol latches his hand you yours, intertwines your fingers, and cants against like he’s possessed.

Eyes rolled as you go limp, you reach for his face and whimper into his mouth, climbing higher and higher until you hit the ceiling. Your hands are everywhere, anywhere in reach as you fail to ground yourself against the wave of pleasure rolling through your veins. And it all shatters with a whimper of his name.

He’s perfect and he’s yours and you don’t know what you did to earn him but you know you could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him.

You try to break through the noise. But it just serves to make things worse because the only thing the man on top you likes to see more than you desperate for him is you coming on his cock. The arm above your head collapses, sending all of his weight on you, forcing him deeper into your guts until you can taste him on the back of your tongue. The wet clap of his balls against your ass with each rut forward rockets you into the deep end. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” Seungcheol bites into your jaw. “That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you’re so good. So good.” 

It’s blinding, eyes cinched so tight fireworks float in the darkness; Seungcheol’s moans blending with the rush of blood fleeing your brain. He’s feral with the satisfaction of your orgasm, how you wail beneath him like your neighbors won’t hear and know you have a man who pleases you in every way imaginable. Like you want everyone to know his name.

“Cheol,” you whisper, all breath. So quiet he wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t dialed into your every move. “Want…” you pant. “Want you…”

Seungcheol presses as deep as he can before letting go; stuffing you with his cum, grinding into your pussy with every jerk of his cock until it spills around where he splits you and slips down your ass. 

His eyes never leave yours, watching you take every drop of his affection like you were made to. Like he was the one made to give it to you. Even with your thrashing, you never look away.

A final pathetic noise scratches the inside of your throat when he’s done. Seungcheol won’t pull out but he will pull away, yearning to see the mess between your bodies. Cum and arousal smears your bellies, your thighs, the base of his cock still inside you. Eventually he'll pull you up to wash off and you have no doubt the cushion will be beyond repair.

When he’s had his fill, he collapses into your chest, arms twine around your back as he kisses you with every ounce of devotion he can spare. Until you can feel his love down to the tips of your toes and through every last cell in your body.

And because showing you isn’t enough, he tells you again and again while he fills you once more in the comfort of your shared bed.

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[mildlybizarrecorvid]

Just so everyone knows, in this blog (phrasing is meant to be like in this house we or whatever, just giving an introduction) we

eagerly await true AI (that's when it's people, ChatGPT is worthless garbage)

appreciate clever critters (corvids [obviously, look at the blog title {i can do as many parentheticals as i want, and you can't stop me}], octopi, orangutans)

are weird and nerdy about various media

have a mix of fear and disdain for chimpanzees

and make polls sometimes

Also, if you feel comfortable doing so, feel free to leave comments, or notes, or whatever they are! I'll always read them, and there's a decent chance I'll respond

Feel free to send asks, if they're reasonable they've got a decent chance of answers. I do avoid the chain letters that say to copy and paste it to 5 mutuals and such.

Reblog policy: Do whatever, I'm like 90% percent sure i'm not a cop

Mostly they, testing it

Publicly known side blogs: @unofficial-oviraptors, @corvidsocs

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Guiding Hand 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, violence, abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.

Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background

Note: Happy Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The grocery store is a panoply of colours and sounds. You feel hollow as you lean on the cart and trawl the aisles. You won't fill it, you got it for support. Your legs are weaker by the minute.  

You balance out every credit in your shop. You can't go a dollar over the allotment. It isn't very much at the end. Better for you, you're worried about carrying it all. 

You swipe the card and crumple the list. You had to leave a few things off. You hook the bags over your shoulders, the effort further sending your burnt hand to pulse. As you come out onto the beaming light, you examine the tortured flesh peeking out. You unwind the fraying bandage and gasp, tears springing free as you peel it away from the sticky, stinky flesh. 

It stings in the open air. You keep it up against your chest and walk on. It's more of a lumber as your feet drag and your body moves stiffly. The sun beats down mercilessly and has you sweating despite the constant shiver rolling through you. 

You slow as you come in sight of your building. You look around cautiously, searching for the glasses and blond beard. Did he listen? Did he go away or is he lurking? Just like Lee, always waiting... 

You don't see him. The edges of your vision are so blurry, you can't be sure. You don't have the energy to worry about him. You just want to go back to bed. 

You cross the street and clumsily aim the keys at the slot. Through one door, then the next. You don't hear them catch behind you but you can only hear the echoing impact of each step. 

You stagger into the apartment and leave the chain to dangle, the latch flipped the wrong way. You trod into the kitchen but don't have the length to lift the bags onto the counter. You drop them on the floor and stare. You're so tired and you can't stop shaking. 

As you stand there, time and space pinpoints on you. You look around, the silence setting in. It's so quiet. You can't hear your mom. Or him.  

"Now aren't ya gon put that all away?" Lee drawls as his weight creaks in the floor. 

You nod without looking back and make a noise. You can't muster a single word. You bend to reach into a bag and take out the box of generic macaroni and cheese. You hobble to the counter and set it down, using your good hand to open the cupboard. You put it on the shelf and grasp the door. 

You're so dizzy. You lean on the counter and suddenly, the doors swinging shut. The edge hits your cheek and you yelp. You're crushed against the drawers as Lee pens you in from behind. 

"You're startin' to really tee me off. Takin' your time and all. Like you ain't good for nothin'," he snarls as you fold over the counter top. "Whatsa matter with you? You not gonna fight, huh?" 

He grabs a fistful of hair and wrenches your head back. You heave as your hand slaps painfully on the stained linoleum, the flesh radiating with flame. You whimper as his other hand creeps around your stomach. He pushes on your pelvis until his crotch is flush to your ass. 

"Let me show you what you're good for, huh?" He sneers and shoves his hand down the front of your pants. You whimper as he touches the coil patch of hair beneath, "mm, feel that? You want this. Ain't even got no panties." 

"Stop," you murmur as your head lolls from his grasp. 

"You'll be beggin' me not to in a minute," he snorts and forces his fingers between your thighs. 

"Sto-sto-stop!" You stammer out helplessly. 

"Now, you keep quiet. It won't be long," he leans into you until your hips ache, "teach ya to be disrespectful." 

He curls his fingers and scratches between your folds. You whine and gulp through your dry throat. Panic surges through your delirium as you reach back to claw with your injured hand. A shriek erupts at the the vibrant agony. 

"Ahhhhhh!" You wail, "mom! Mom! Help!" 

"She drank herself stupid already," he growls and nips at your ear, "just us, girl." 

"Mom!" You yelp as his fingers dip towards your entrance, his rough palm scraping against your soft flesh, "mom!" Your heart throbs and your head rings, "mom!" He pushes his fingertips through your tight slit and you erupt, "MOMMY!” 

Your knee hit the wood as you wriggle against him. You’re so weak. The walls close in as you feel yourself losing your grasp, not just on the counter but on the world. His fingers sink in deep, the callouses rough against your delicate walls. 

Suddenly, you’re jarred and the room tips over. You hit the tile in a heap and groan. Your fiery hand rests against the cool squares as your vision swirls and you hear huffing and puffing, grunts intermingled and the crack of violence. Thwack, thwack, thwack. 

Lee’s heavy figure hits the wall and his legs go out from under him as he slides onto his ass. You blink through the silty haze and shake your head. It’s all foggy and senseless. It wasn’t you who pushed him off. It can’t have been. 

“Mom,” you mutter as you try to sit up only to fall back as your hand burns with acid. Your blood is hot but your skin is ice. “Mom, what’s going on?” 

A dark shape bounces off of Lee’s jaw and red dribbles down his chin as he leans against the wall, slumping down onto his shoulder. You drone mindlessly as you bring your hand over your stomach and whine. It hurts so bad. The shadow moves to stand over you and you close your eyes. 

“Please...” you beg. It’s definitely not your mom; they’re too big, too strong. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” the grizzly timbre tickles in your ears as something firm slips beneath you; one arm around your shoulders, the other under your knees. 

You float in the air, eyes threatening to roll back as you fight through the clouds, your form jittering uncontrollably against the blaze that surrounds you. The man is hotter than fire. You tilt your head up and see the tufts of his short blond beard. 

It’s him. It’s Professor Smith but why is he there? Where is he taking you? All those questions merely stir in your slanted consciousness as your head falls against his shoulder. You’re too tired to think and you’re done fighting. It never you any good anyhow. 

You feel the motion of his steps and how he angles you through the door. Down the stairs and outside back into the unbearable light. You squeeze your eyes tight. He continues on, laying you into something soft. You look at him between your eyelids and garble. 

“Sweetheart, just stay here,” he bids in his lilt, pulling a lever to recline the car seat. The vinyl smells brand new and the upholstery looks just as pristine. It stamps your vision before you once more hide inside your head. “I’ll be back.” 

You don’t protest. Why is he doing all this? For you? He’s your professor... it doesn’t make much sense. Nothing does right now. Everything is just messy. 

He puts the engine on. The low whir is comforting. He adjusts the vents to blow air, though it feels hot to you. He stands and removes his jacket, spreading it over your quivering shoulders and chest. He huffs and cranes to see behind him. 

The door shuts and locks at his back as he leaves you. You stay as you are. It’s as comfortable as you’ve been in days. Time stretches on, crackling in your ears. You drift off into a void, brought back only by the hollow thunk of the electric locks. 

Professor Smith tosses something in the backseat and snaps the door closed, moving to the driver’s. He sits beside you and lets the car idle. He reaches over to touch your forehead as your lashes flutter at him. He hums as he appears as a ghostly smear. 

“Very well,” he says and the car rolls into motion. 

📓

You jolt up, a splash of water flying up across your face and chest as you rip your hand away from the electrifying pain. You’re caught by the shoulder and hushed. You blink tightly and lean back, looking over at the man on the other side of the porcelain. Professor Smith reaches over to take your hand out of the water, the ripples scalding on the tormented skin. 

“It’s already infected,” he says, “you’ll make it worse. I’m trying to dress it so be still.” 

Your confusion nips at your ears as you look down at yourself. You’re naked, in a tub of steaming water, the scent of lilies roiling up with the wisps. He sighs and you hiss as he presses a wet swab to the burnt patches of skin. Some of it even looks green. 

His sleeves are rolled to his elbows and there are cuts and scrapes on his own knuckles. Even so, his nails are cut and tidy and his skin is clean. He is diligent in his attention to your own mottled skin. 

You put your hand over your lap, trying to hide but all modesty is spent. You’re too dazed to care that much. There’s bigger questions. Where are you? Why? 

“I couldn’t let you to wallow in such a horrid place,” he speaks as he works, his touch gentle despite the thickness and firmness of his hand. “And after our last interaction, I could not just tuck my tail. It isn’t of my nature.” He tuts as he wets a new swab with alcohol, “and the filth--” 

“Professor...” you slur. “What... why?” 

“There are many details, yes, I had to jump through hoops but you needn’t worry for all that. What’s more important is we get you clean. The state of it,” he shakes his head, “a day or two more and you might’ve died.” He stills his hands and looks at you. You dare to meet his gaze, shame scalding as hot as the fever, “it wouldn’t do.” 

You frown, “I didn’t ask for help--” 

“Well, you are getting it,” he scoffs and sets back to disinfecting. “And a mother like that. Neglectful...” 

“She’s... lost.” 

“It doesn’t matter, does it? She’s still a mother. Bringing that man around. Certainly, he isn’t the first, either.” 

You lower your head. You wince and whimper as he carries on but you do not pull away. He works methodically. 

“We’ll get some antibiotics in you and tuck in,” he speaks to himself, “perhaps they can have some broth brought up to the room. Never fear, I’ve brought my own sheets and sanitized ever speck.” 

You cough and shake your head. You can’t keep up. 

“When you’re up to it, we’ll leave town. I do fear I will have to be back in office, at least my home office, within the week,” he takes out a roll of gauze and you wince. 

“I’m... what’s going on?” You ask. 

“Naturally, when you start something you need to follow through,” he says, “I’ve done and started this, haven’t I?” 

“Started what?” You utter. 

“Can’t take you back now,” he secures the bandage and lets your arm rest over the porcelain. “Don’t get that wet.” 

“Sir, professor,” you sit up, another spiraling sensation overcoming you. You look down and fold up to hide yourself, your exposure tingling over you, “what... please tell me what’s going on.” 

“Would you need help? Cleaning, I mean. Purely practical,” he offers, “I wouldn’t mind. Of course, I did wipe your face already, did my best with the hair...” he sits back on the low cushioned stool he’s on and puts his elbows on his knees, “there is soap and a fresh scrubber there.” 

“Can you please just--” you bluster and a faintness blows through you, sending you back against the porcelain. You slip down dangerously, your arm sticking up against the side of the tub. He catches your elbow, heaving you back up as he bends over you.  

“Yes, feverish still,” he says, “perhaps a hot bath is not the best for it.” He hauls you up and sits you on the ledge of the great basin, “hang onto me then, I will get you washed up.” 

You have no other choice but to obey. The humiliation cannot feed the strength you need to resist. You cling to him with your uninjured arm and lean your head on his shoulder. He pauses before he can grab the scrubbie and instead rubs your back. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he coos, “yes, right then.”  

His hand lingers before he reaches once more and swipes up the bottle and sponge, moving his arms around you. You collapse into him and groan. At least he isn’t hurting you. Not like Lee. 

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | First Kiss

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF's Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: angst!, mutual pining comes to a head, or more accurately to lips, aka kissing Word Count: 1.8k (ok it's a little more than a drabble) Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend's little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That's it. How did this happen?

A/N: Hi, I'm back. This is the first vignette that's not from an ask but just from my own head. I just really wanted to write their first kiss, so I did! I hope you enjoy. 🥰

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It's You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

A few weeks after Halloween, Hongjoong invites everyone to a friend’s deejaying gig on the other side of town. Your roommate opts out, saying she’d rather spend one of her rare nights off at her boyfriend’s, so you, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong check it out together.

After the gig ends, your ears still ringing, feet aching from all the dancing you did, the four of you make your way home. Wooyoung and Hongjoong both seem hyped from the show, talking excitedly as you wait for the train. You watch them with a fond smile, leaning against the wall and taking turns lifting your feet to take some of the pressure off. 

San joins you. “You okay, Noona?” 

“Yeah. Just wore the wrong boots tonight,” you say. “Didn’t realize we’d be dancing so much.” 

“Oh, yeah. I guess I could’ve warned you,” San grins. “Sorry. We’re not the type to sit through a set.” 

“Clearly,” you reply, smiling back. Honestly, you’d been pleasantly surprised at how well San and his friends dance. They were so free with their movements and their energy had been infectious. You couldn’t have stood still if you’d tried. 

Of course, now you’re paying for it, wincing as your throbbing feet scream at you. You shuffle again, and then, ever-so-gracefully, you lose your balance, tipping over, letting out a loud expletive that draws everyone’s attention. 

Hongjoong and Wooyoung cackle as San grabs your arm, pulling you back upright. 

“No worries, Noona, I’ve got you.” 

He murmurs the words reassuringly, arm sliding from yours to loop around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side, but only for a second, before he scolds the other two for laughing so much. You giggle along as Wooyoung and San pretend to fight, but your heart’s not in it, because it’s still yearning painfully for San to hold you again. Every time he touches you - hugs you goodbye, cuddles with you on the couch, even the briefest moments of contact like just now - it leaves this black hole inside your chest, an endless gnawing need for more and more and more. 

At some point, you won’t be able to withstand it anymore. You’re not sure what will happen then.

The train car is crowded when your group enters. Unfortunately for your tired feet, there's nowhere to sit, and blessed little space to stand, so everyone splits up, trying to find room for themselves. Except for San, who guides you towards the opposite doors with a gentle touch on your back, and then stands beside you, reaching overhead to hold on while your hands curl around a pole. 

Some creepy guy already too close on your right leans over, trying to get an eyeful of your chest, and San smoothly slides around, blocking you from the asshole’s view. You smile gratefully, and he gives you an intimidating look but undercuts his mean mugging with an eyebrow wiggle, and you giggle, which then makes him grin, a chain reaction of happiness that leaves you buzzing. 

The gentle sway of the car as it hurdles down the tracks shakes you. You bump into San with a horribly steady rhythm, feeling sheepish for not having a strong enough core to keep yourself upright and balanced for more than a second at a time. He just laughs, finally throwing an arm around your back to help.

His hold is light, leaving a big sliver of air between you, a respectful distance that frankly makes you wish he’d be disrespectful. But he maintains it, supporting you in the most polite way, and somehow it still makes your heart jump fast as the wheels spinning beneath your feet.  You turn your head, focusing on the window on the door, watching your reflection as the dark tunnels roll by. 

At the next stop, more people pack themselves into the car. The small bubble of space around you pops as the wave of humanity rolls you into San, and you bring your hands up, bracing yourself against his chest, eyes widening at the solid warmth beneath your fingertips. 

“Shit, sorry, sorry.” You apologize profusely, trying to step away, but the train jerks again, jostling you, and San tightens his grip, pulling you back into his arms. 

“It’s ok,” he mutters, in a quiet voice. “I told you. I’ve got you.” 

When your gazes meet, it’s like the air has been sucked from the car. Something shimmers in his dark eyes as they roam your face, and you utter his name unthinkingly, a tiny “San” just slipping from your open mouth, but it feels like a rogue confession of something you’ve been denying for so long. You’re not sure if he heard it but he definitely saw it because he’s been staring at your lips for a few seconds now.

You lean in at the same time he tilts his chin forward, and your mouths meet in the middle. A light kiss, feather soft, like testing the waters. The next one lingers, his lips firmer against yours. His hand splays on your back. You twist your fingers into the front of his t-shirt. 

A third press weakens your knees, as his mouth slots against yours. Lips move together, part, allowing him to breathe in your little gasp. 

The train emerges from the tunnel, and suddenly the lights in the car blast on as it comes to a slow stop at the next station. Immediately, you spring back, and so does San. 

His expression is searing, and you glance away, looking to see if any of your friends are nearby, but the only one you can glimpse is Hongjoong. He’s got his back to you, a few feet and a dozen people away. 

When the train starts up again, a few riders lighter, San loosens his grip, hand gliding up to a spot between your shoulders, far from the small where it had just been resting. By the time you reach your stop, his arm is more hovering than touching.

You and San find Hongjoong a few feet ahead of you when you depart. Wooyoung’s still on the train, since his place is closer to the next stop. Hongjoong slows his quick stride enough for you to catch up. 

“You guys up for some ramen?” he asks, like he always does on late nights like this. You and San look at each other, and you don’t know if it’s the dim streetlights or what, but you can’t read his expression.

“Nah, I’m good,” San answers.

“I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” you start to say at the same time, cutting off to let San finish and then repeating yourself with a nervous laugh.

“‘Kay.” Hongjoong bears the rejection with his usual nonchalance. “I’ll see you later.” He crosses the street, heading for the convenience store on the next block. 

And it’s just the two of you now, walking in silence. Two more blocks and you’ll be home. One more block. Just up the stairs now. Key in door, door closed, shoes off. 

You stare at each other. He blinks first.  

“Should we - “

“Did you want to - “

“Hey guys.” 

Your roommate comes padding out of the kitchen, cup of tea in hand. 

“Hey!” you nearly shout. “I thought you were staying over at Jongho's?” 

If she’s surprised by the volume of your voice, Haneul doesn’t show it. She shrugs. “Yunho was being annoying, so I left.” 

Yunho is Jongho’s roommate. He’s rarely at their apartment on the weekends. Just your luck that this would be the one night a year he strikes out and goes to his own bed instead of someone else’s.

Or maybe it’s for the best. Because it’s not too late to stop now before you do something else. Something potentially foolish. Let it just be a kiss. A one-time loss of rationality. Of caution. 

Even if you can’t stop thinking about that night at the bar. Sitting there with San’s arms wrapped around you just felt so right. 

Even if it’s been ages since you felt this way about someone. 

Even if you’re pretty sure you’re falling for San. 

“Are you going to bed or are you gonna stay up for a bit?” Haneul asks, taking a seat on the couch. 

“Um…” you fight the impulse to glance at San. “I don’t know. I’m not really tired or anything….” Truth be told, you’re a little wired now. “Why?” 

“I was thinking of starting that new drama Jongho told us about. Wanna join me?” She pats the space next to her.

San mumbles something about taking a shower. You watch him leave the room, and it feels like whatever happened on the train is already fading away. Did it really happen, or was it just a dream? Are your fantasies bleeding over into your waking hours now? 

San joins you and Haneul near the end of the first episode, taking a spot on the floor in front of the couch so he can stretch out. He looks so soft, with his dark hair freshly fluffed from a towel, dressed in his favorite hoodie and sweats, and it’s a struggle to keep your focus on the television and not wonder what would’ve happened had Haneul not been home.

Part of you wishes San would catch you looking. But you’re not sure you could handle it if you met his gaze right now and didn’t find what you were hoping to find. 

It’s actually a little odd how quiet he is, staring so intently at the show that you are completely ignoring. Is he doing the same thing you are, replaying the moment in his mind? Trying to freeze it in your memory?

Your stomach drops as you consider another possibility. What if he thinks the kiss was a mistake? 

By the time the third episode is over, you’re exhausted, from your night out but also from the mental gymnastics you’ve been performing, silently twisting yourself into knots thinking about San and the train and what could happen versus what should. So you excuse yourself for the safety of your bedroom, where you can dream in peace.

Nero’s already curled up on his favorite spot on your bed, right next to where you lay your head. He cracks an eye open as you flop down beside him, and you reach out to give him an apologetic scritch, when you catch a scrap of paper poking out from beneath him. A note, with San's handwriting. He must’ve slipped it on your pillow after his shower. The first sentence sends relief flooding through you.

I don’t regret it. 

But it’s what’s written next that has you rereading the note over and over. It’s a simple sentence, just a pleading command, but to you, it’s a revelation. 

Please tell me you want more too.

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[fyeah7kpp]

Hello, friends!

I hope everyone has enjoyed the early access to 7KPP! Now that we've had a few months to play around and try out many MANY branches in the game (and Mod Tina has had some time to recover from finishing her graduate degree), it's time for 7KPP Week!

As a reminder, and for any newcomers to the fandom, 7KPP Week is basically a week of short prompts that we the mods come up with, intended as an opportunity to inspire and share fanworks that showcase our love for the game. Any types of fanworks are welcome, from fanart or fanfiction to meta, playlists, or just long rambles about your thoughts! We're all just here to spread our love and positivity!

Note: As the game has been out for several months now, spoiler content is perfectly welcome, and indeed encouraged in some of the prompts, and some prompts may include spoilers! Please be aware if you wish to participate or spectate!

So, without further ado, the details!

When: Between October 20 and October 26! Where: Post on tumblr (and elsewhere is fine too but we’ll be organizing here on tumblr)

The prompts are as follows! (Since some of these are rather vague, there are some more details and some questions that might help inspire you under the cut!)

Day One - Background (Remix) Day Two - Date Night Day Three - Letters Day Four - Angst Week (Turnabout) Day Five - Secrets Day Six - Suitcase Day Seven - Epilogue

Feel free to use the tag “7KPP Week 2024“ and/or mention this blog, and we’ll do our best to reblog everything!

As always, please feel free to send an ask/DM me if you have any questions! We look forward to seeing everyone’s submissions, and hope that you have a great autumn!

-Mod Tina

Day 1 - Background (Remix)

What is your character's background and why did you pick it? How do they feel about it? If you've talked about this before, you can instead consider the following: Have you considered using an existing MC for one of the secret backgrounds? Is there another background you think might be interesting for your MC? Elements of another background you could incorporate into them for an AU?

Day 2 - Date Night

If your MC had a friendship date (or a real one), what would it be? How would it play out? Who would they invite? What stat(s) would it raise? What would the achievement for success be named?

Day Three - Letters

Over the course of the game, we received letters written from loved ones of both our characters and our LIs. Who would send the LI a letter on behalf of your MC? What would it say?

Day Four - Angst Week (Turnabout)

Let's share in the angst of week 5! If your LI had a near-death experience during the courting phase, how would your MC react? Alternatively, did your MC ever consider breaking things off? If so, why?

Day Five - Secrets

If your MC had a discoverable secret at the Summit for other characters to find, what would it be? Would it be a chain? Something that is needed to get to know them? Is it blackmail material?

Day Six - Suitcase

Does your MC bring any non-essentials with them to the Summit? What do they take home with them afterwards?

Day Seven - Epilogue

We got glimpses of what the ending looked like for your character post-Summit. Are there any other scenes you have in your mind's eye? Anything that you would change? What does life look like for your characters after the end?

[thedevilrisen]

Trust Me Mate

Jack Hughes x Y/N

Description: Based on the song 'Trust me mate' by Dean Lewis.

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog. I love talking to people so say Hi if you want to. Feel Free to send in requests as well. I'm happy to write for most hockey players.

Warnings: Alcohol, Throwing up - I think that's it ( let me know if I missed more.)

-Sincerely thedevilrisen.

you’re pulling out your cigarette

you bring it up toward your lips

you breathe and push the smoke away just like you do with all your friends

I rapped my knuckles against the door three times, underneath the gold 126 plaque helping anyone unknown find this apartment. I wasn’t unknown though, I’ve been here hundreds of times, walked up the 13 flights of stairs for three months straight when the elevator broke to get here.  The dull thud of footsteps alerted me to the fact that you were coming to the door. The gentle click of the lock and opening of the door as far as the chain allowed me to get my first glimpse of her face in a month. 

“Can you let me in please.” I asked. She shut the door, I heard the slide of the chain bolt and then the door opened fully revealing her.

“Jack.  What are you doing here?” she whispered exasperated, moving to the side to let me into her dark apartment.

“I haven’t heard from you in a month Y/N.” I spoke examining her apartment as we walked further in, “I’ve been worried about you.”

“Well I’m fine Jack. Now if that’s all you’ve come to do, you can leave.” she concluded.  Crossing her arms across her chest. Why are you self-conscious around me, Y/N? I thought. 

“I left my good water bottle in your room the last time I was here. I’m just going to go get it.” I whispered, looking down as I made my way down the hallway to her room.

your room is messy and full of clothes

the curtains drawn, the Windows closed.

when did the person that i loved turn into someone i don't know

Stepping over clothes, and empty alcohol bottles strewn across the room I made my way to the wooden dresser where my water bottle is perched on the corner. All the photos that normally sit proudly on top of the dresser drawers were laid face down, draws half opened with clothes half falling out of some and an overflowing hamper basket that looks like it has a month's worth of laundry piled in it. Dust had piled on the window sills and the metal slats of the blinds. 

“Jack, stop snooping!” she shouted, voice wavering, tears brimming her eyes. “Get your water bottle and go!” 

“Y/N..” I mumbled

i say it's time we have to talk

“No Jack!” she shouted again, silent tears running down her cheek as she walked out of her room. “We don’t need to!”

you make a move towards the door and you deny there's anything to hide or answer for

you say, ‘I don't don't want you in my place just get the fuck out of my face’

“No Y/N! I’m not leaving you like this!” I yelled back, stepping back and running a hand down my face.

“Please Jack, just leave me be. I’m fine I promise.” she begged, hands clasped at her chest. 

“Fine.” I grit out through my teeth, reaching for the door. “Bye Y/N.”

“Bye!” she returned angrily.

but I won't give up so easy 'cause I know you'd do the same

DING. The elevator doors opened and I walked in, pressing the 13 and watching as the doors closed and the numbers on the screen above the panel changed,  counting as they went up, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13. The doors hummed as they opened letting me walk down the all too familiar hallway, patting my back pocket to make sure I brought the spare key I had to her apartment with me just in case she wouldn’t let me in, my other hand had the paper handles of a shopping bag filled with goodies dangling from my fingers. 

126, the gleaming numbers shone back at me, my left hand raising to the door and hitting my knuckles against the wood three times. Just like always. Waiting for a minute or so before knocking again. Anxiously waiting on a response as the minutes passed by, I continued staring at the gilded numbers. “Fuck this.” I mumbled, reaching around and pulling the silver key out of my back pocket and fumbling to slot it into the lock. CLICK. “Success!” I whispered, pushing the door open tentatively, taking a step inside the still darkened apartment. “Y/N?” I questioned into the eerie silence. “I know you didn’t want me here, but I can’t leave you like this. Y/N?” Moving toward her room and opening the door, light was coming from the bathroom along with sounds of gut-wrenching sobs and heaving. Dropping the bag I had clutched in my hand and rushing to the door, pushing it open and reclining at the sight before me. Y/N curled up on the cold tile floor of the shower, sobbing and dry heaving a bottle of whiskey knocked over and discarded to her right.

But trust me mate you've got this you always were the strongest but I'm not gonna promise that this won't hurt

you  were lying in the bathroom we almost thought we lost you

cause tryna numb the pain only makes it worse

I'm not giving up on you.

“J-Jack, I-i.. leave please.” she sobbed weakly. Heart breaking I moved to where she sat and slid down the wall to her height.

“I can’t do that Y/N.” I mumbled, bringing her shaking form into my arms. Hand rubbing soothingly up and down her back as she sniffled.

“Why Jack!” she cried sitting up, eyes red and puffy, pupils blown. 

“Because I love you Y/N.” I spoke calmly. 

“No, you don’t, you can’t love someone like me.” she wailed.

“Yes I can. I truly love and want to help you, but I need to know what’s wrong.”

“Can we just sit here for a bit?”

“We can do whatever you want.”

And if it gets worst

before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall cause i won't let you

And if it gets worst

Before it gets better

Don't be afraid to fall

[eden-has-rotted]

Finally doing an intro post!!

Hi!

-Who Am I?-

The user formally known as edenexxe

I'm Eden!

I have ADHD and most likely autism (and probably a specific subtype of ocd but that's for me to unpack later)

My gender is up to reader interpretation

he/him but i dont mind they/them

super talented gorgeous boyfriend !!! his posts will be tagged with # 🐦‍⬛

-Where Am I?-

I'm in the EST timezone

-Music?-

My music taste would be classified as goth and punk, but I am also a huge fan of post-hardcore

The list of bands I listen to contains but is not limited to:

My Chemical Romance, The Cure, Pierce the Veil, Siouxsie & the Banshees, & Green Day

I am a musician, and I play the flute! I am also currently learning bass (guitar)!! And I'd like to say that my singing voice isn't half-bad. In the fall, I am in my school's marching band!

-Hobbies?-

I enjoy doing different kinds of art, but my go-to would have to be traditional art and painting of different kinds.

I also enjoy DIY of all kinds (I have a battle jacket and vest that are parts of my soul)

I love to cross stitch, and am currently working on a giant TCFSR pattern!

I run @identifying-mcr-shows !!

-What Can You Expect Me To Post?-

Mostly MCR stuff. Other than that, I'd say art stuff, random thoughts, and reblogs.

Please tag me in stuff! I love doing chains, so feel free to tag me in music/picrew/whatever chains!! And feel free to send me stuff! My ask box is always open!!

-DNIs?-

Bigotry of any kind (racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, you know the drill)

-

Nice to meet you!!

[mx-loar-tev]

So, about that fic idea of time traveller/serial killer JJ...

I'm toying with plot ideas.

1. Who would end up on her kill list?

Hastings, Askari and Doyle are the one that would take priority in S6. There are also the ones that JJ would feel the most justified to kill.

Izzy, the bank robbers and the other guy (forgot his name) in Hit/Run would definitely anger her so much that she could decide to preemptively get rid of them before they attack the bank in Washington. Not only she almost lost Will (the guy got shot and almost blown up twice), her son was taken hostage and she had to violently fight in front of him in their home. Her maternal instincts might push her to kill Izzy at the very least. Especially if she had already murdered three people in cold blood before that.

I'd need to rewatch the show, especially seasons 6 to 8 to see who could be on her kill list, but there's another name that come to mind: Diane Turner, the woman that stalked and killed Maeve. JJ had seen how devastated Spence had been after Meave's death, so of course she would do everything to save her and give them the opportunity to date.

The replicator is also someone that could be on the list. After all he tried to kill them all and succeeded with Strauss. I don't think JJ liked Strauss that much, even after she got sober, but the section chief is still "one of them". She also saw what Strauss' death did on Rossi, and for that only the replicator deserves to be on the list. He might not be her easiest target though.

2. About the cases:

With the amount of cases she worked on for over a decade, I think it would be hard for her to remember and keep track of it all. I'm sure she'd try to use the Intel she remembers to help with the case and save more victims, but the load of work that would come from trying to PREVENT all these crimes from happening is way to much for a single person.

Maybe there's some cases that sticked to her though, maybe she could focus on these ones if she wants to prevent them. But she can't save everyone and I'm sure it'd impact her mood severely to realise that.

I think she has a notebook written in code where she put every nugget of informations she can remember, along with ideas of how to approach each situation.

3. The butterfly effect.

Each time she changes something, kills someone that would have lived in the original time line, it has unpredictable repercussions. After a while, it would be hard to predict for JJ what would happen then. And sure, saving people's life is good. But there's no way to predict if someone else isn't going to hurt the person JJ just saved. Or just create an chain of events that would ends in tears and pain. It think at some point JJ would be overwhelmed by it all.

4. Lying to the team.

We know JJ is a great liar. Probably the best liar in the team. Her teammates failed countless times to see through her lies. But no one is perfect, especially with the amount of lies JJ would need to keep track of. I'm not sure yet how she would react from the worried and/or suspicious stares from her teammates. She'd be in a lot of pressure, that's for sure, so maybe she might slip at some point. And when you're surrounded by profiler, that can be a fatal mistake.

5. Her pregnancy.

If she killed Askari and Hastings before her humvee was blown and she miscarried, she probably would have given birth to that child. Her pregnancy and taking care of a newborn would impact the story and her ability to keep going with her mission.

6. Romance.

Sorry, I needed to put that here.

I'm quite flexible on who I ship JJ with. I'm a die-hard jemily shipper, I'll admit, but I think Will is okay even if he's not perfect.

I don't like writing Will as a bad guy, but that doesn't mean I can't write them breaking up for some reasons (JJ's odd behaviour since she arrived in the past and went on a killing spree might damage her marriage.) So that's a possibility, I guess.

But I also love the idea of polyamory. Though I'm already going that route in the fic I'm currently writing so I might want to try something else.

I could just not focus on a ship. Not every fic needs to be shippy. After all, the main interest of this fic is JJ, her psychology, the way she interacts with everyone in her life. There'd also be a huge chunk focusing on motherhood since she'd be pregnant.

Thinking about it, JJ being aromantic is something I haven't explored yet. That could be fun to write.

I haven't decided what I gonna do in that department yet.

7. How it'll end.

Or more exactly, what tone do I want to give to that story?

I mean, it'll probably be dark. But do I want a happy ending for JJ?

Even if she feels justified, what she does is morally blackish grey. That plus the weight of the lies and the amount of work that double life would require would be enough to burn her out. Once she stepped into the darkness it would be a downward spiral.

On the other hand, I like the idea of girlboss JJ being a successful charitable hitman/vigilante. I want her to have a little Deadpool vibe (sans sexual jokes and 4th wall breaking). I want her to find a confortable place where she's okay with what she's doing, even if it requires unsavoury methods.

Regardless of her state of mind, should the story end badly for her? Would her teammates find out about her? Would they arrest her? Would she escape? Would she be killed?

Or would she thrive in her new side work and remain undetected by her fellow profilers?

Would she stay at the BAU, considering she had become an unsub herself?

Do I want a happy ending? A sad one? A bittersweet one?

Thanks for reading through my musings.

If you have ideas or want to discuss that story, feel free to leave a comment/reblog and comment/send me an ask.

[themostwantedphighter]

“Welcome, darlin’! What brings ya here?”

(OOC: Heya, @prismaticstarshch here! I'm the person running this RP blog, and I'm gonna lay out a few things:

General notes:

My preferred nickname is Prism

Scythe's pronouns in this blog are strictly she/her

I also strictly go by she/her pronouns

I'm heteroromantic & aegosexual, my Scythe is panromantic & aceflux (I'm open to doing ships!)

here's something for artists

a backstory headcanon + general headcanons list

a link for you to do your daily clicks for Palestine

writing this down here so I can remember it: Scythe's canon birthday is June 6th!

Blog content notes/warnings - There will be:

Swearing

Alcohol/drug references

Mentions of cultism (the COTTE is a cult)

Violence & death (due to Scythe being a serial killer)

Dark humor (particularly concerning hurting/killing people and death in general)

Medical stuff (I project me having Grave’s disease onto Scythe)

Blog rules:

Please respect my DNIs - you can find the list of them on my main blog!

All content posted on this blog will only go as far as being mildly suggestive in nature. I'm fine with slightly raunchy stuff, crude humor, etc., but asks involving full-blown/hardcore NSFW will instantly be ignored. That aside, lore-related asks, things based off of headcanons, magic anons, meme prompts, in-character asks, and more are welcome!

Please don't send asks or start reblog/comment chains related to actually trying to kill Scythe, those will be ignored too (this only applies to anything affecting her in-character)

Also please put warnings on stuff with flashing lights/imagery if you include it in asks/reblogs, I'm photosensitive and flashing stuff makes me feel physically uncomfortable

Feel free to send in-character asks, whether they're from a RP blog or not! I'm open to doing interactions between Scythe and other Phighting characters (OCs included, but please provide a little bit of info!) on top of having a bit of fun with crack interactions between Scythe and characters who aren't from Phighting too, haha

Because I don't draw and don't have anyone to commission for drawings for this, everything will be described through script-style writing. Please don't demand pictures to be added to any posts!

Note: there will be some things that are based off of headcanons!

Feel free to flood the ask box!

I'm also willing to interact via reblogs and comments as well!

All in all, have fun!

Achievements List:

Snake Charmer: Get wrangled by Freezer Anon

Trial By Fire (and Ice): Survive Freezer Anon's antics (and other chaos) for a week

It's still you!: Experience full-body shapeshifting

The Forbidden Sauce: Drink a questionably-sourced potion (and suffer the horrendous consequences)

An End to a Living Hell [self-given achievement]: Survive being cursed until the curse is somehow lifted

Kittie Crazies!: Make it through the high of catnip whilst being in cat form

All That Is Fear: Learn about fear entities

oh, I also run a Phighting parody Tumblr Discord server! You can message me to get a private invite link!)

[outisgivingpac]

Pick-a-Card: A major lesson your soul undergoes 🔮☄️🧿

Hello there, it's been a while 😊 life has been busy for me in the past weeks and I didn't feel the call to make a new post until now 😅 I think the theme of this PAC could be interesting for many, especially if you often questioned why things happened the way it did. As it goes, we shall look into what lesson you're set up to learn at the moment, and how it manifests in your everyday life. 🍀

If you find this reading helpful or entertaining in any way, you can support me through Ko-fi or simply by liking/reblogging this post. Check my pinned post for personal readings, and feel free to send me requests. ☀️✨

My masterlist

🌱Pick the pile/image you feel most drawn to🌱

Pile 1. Pile 2.

Pile 3. Pile 4.

Pile 1: 6 of Wands reversed, 10 of Swords, The Devil

For people who picked this pile, you seem to have gone through a turbulent period in which you're pushed to question your ability and self-worth a lot. The major lesson your soul is learning through this time is to have self-respect as an integral part of your own, and not something that must be given to you by other people or circumstances. You're set up to learn to take pride in your work and in your personal experiences, embracing both your light and shadow. Only with authentic self-awareness and acceptance can you find yourself in peace and true happiness in life. As it seems, this life lesson seems to manifest in many painful events. You could have experienced a major rejection or betrayal that left you utterly in a prolonged state of depression and/or idleness. Some people could criticize and put you down harshly when you least expected, and now you might find yourself talking on your mistakes and flaws in the same manner or even the same words as them. You will have to learn to let that past go. To not define yourself entirely based on other people's words. For a while now, the self-limiting belief that you learned from others with little truth in it has become invisible chains, dictating your decision making and action in the present. I mean, it's easier said than done, but perhaps you can start with identifying what truth is coming from your own heart, and what belief stemming from people in your past. Ask yourself how differently you would act if you know you're safe, and that this x person or y circumstance has no influence upon you. I wish you much love and support.

Pile 2: King of Cups, The Chariot reversed, 4 of Wands reversed

For people of this pile, your soul is set out to become someone with high emotional intelligence and tolerance, a leader and/or protector with a warm heart, on with your loved one feel safe to rely on. If you are already see yourself as a sensitive person and a giver, who is quick to pick on other people's mood, this lesson is also about how to give to others from a healthy headspace. If you are not that kind of person, then here is a specific message: no matter how squeamish you find eMoTiONs and fEeLinGs, you can't deny yourself and the important people in your life of it without causing some sort of damage. In this case, you're putting out there to learn how to progress your own emotion without shame, to communicate it kindly, and to acknowledge other's feelings without judgment. For both side of this spectrum, until you reach the middle point which is emotional balance and maturity, the lesson will manifest in your life as ildness and/or no contact situation. To be more specific, you might feel like nothing is moving in the direction you want, may it be at home or at work. They're a lot of time when miscommunications happen that causes people hurt and loss, but in the end no one are willing to extend an olive branch to set things right. A lot of bridge has been burn because someone takes offended and/or resentment keeps piling up. It might feel unfair and frustrating at times when you feel like you're forced to be the bigger person. But it is what it is, you will find yourself in those situation quite often until you learn to communicate your wants and needs and return the favors by letting others have their words.

Pile 3: 7 of Cups, The Moon, Ace of Pentacles

The recurring lesson that comes up for people of this pile seems to be about how you should take more autonomy in making major decisions in your life. It appears that you grown up surrounding yourself with a lot of different influences as well as expectations; many people with big personality have offered you their vision of what a good life should be. For some of you, it even comes with the privilege/curse of having your life laid out in front of you, as someone else put their firm hands on the steering wheel. For a longest while it seems to be all good: you never strayed off to the "wrong" path, and you find yourself in a place many people would desire. But of course, as you grow as a person, experiencing first-hand what you want and don't want to do, you could start to question your choices. Not to mention, many people can not follow you and steer your wheel after a certain point, when you enter a new phase in your life. You might feel lost and disoriented, as life keeps coming with a lot of intersections, demanding you to take a more active role in deciding how you want to live your life. Thus, the lesson manifests itself as period of much confusion and disillusionment, where no one can tell you what you should/need to do to get from point A to point B. You're pushed to sought out the information and opportunity yourself, because only you know you and your circumstances best. The pressure of having to make the right choices could be suffocating, so is the state of not knowing what the future holds. But ask yourself, does such a thing as a perfect choice even exist? Everything comes with a potential for growth, and everything could demand a compromise in some aspect. There's a shadow behind even those people who seem to lead a perfect life. So if anything, it's all about making the best choice for you with what you know best at the time, and work around it because even the brightest prospect needs your investment. Don't take so much shame by looking back at the wrongturns you took. It was what you knew best at that time too. And because of it, you have grown and arriver at where you are today. I wish you best of luck with your journey onwards.

Pile 4: Judgement, 4 of Pentacles, 7 of Wands

I feel like this is the pile of people who are the pioneer or the advocate, with a kind of "my dream is bigger than me" vibe. I won't be surprised if social justice and activism takes a big part of your personal belief. On another perspective, you might just be pursuing a career that can be considered as unconventional and/or involved a lot of risks. It might also demand great resilience and intellectual prowess. In any case, life will be pushing you towards some sort of realization, an "Aha" moment that would elevate the journey towards to goal to the next level. Meanwhile, the lesson will manifest itself as situations where you have to defend your stance, ideals and dreams. You will be pushed back and forth between protecting them and questioning them, as challenge arises with threat to pry them from your hands. In another word, you might learn to be more what other would deem as "selfish" or "greedy". But if anything the resistance will also widen your horizon and gain you knowledge from many parties. At times, the whole fight could feel way to exhausting, which make you want to give up and accept the fate of a martyr. You're by all means entitled to take space and have a break, you're very much encourage to push on. You're meant to be the one who make some changes and you might be closer to your goal than you thought.

[spaghetti-o-fficial]

Hey there, you look tired

Eh it's about time I did this. Hi I'm spaghettios and I go by mainly she/her, but they/them are fine too. I'm also a minor, so please don't be weird to me or send me weird asks. You can send me asks in general, tho. I love talking to you guys and I love hearing from various anons :D also I love tag chains, picrew chains, and other various ask games and whatnot, so feel free to tag me!

I also run @official-time and my main blog is @cp-snitch

DNI list/people I am not friendly with:

TERFs

Homophobes

Pedos

Zoos

Nsfw accounts/blogs

Triggers: Yelling, gore, being just weird and creepy in general

Anyways let's just pretend like it didn't take me as long as it did to finally make this

PS if I send out like a million posts at exactly midnight, it's cuz I hit my post limit 😅

Edit: this is probably just gonna be where I reblog a lot of stuff, I have a more lore centered blog @totally-dairy-queen

^ this blog is inactive now

https://www.tumblr.com/tobytoon/755680309055520768/people-annoy-me-everyone-wants-to-preach-about?source=share

Also please read this. I do not support anyone who does this to minors, if you are someone who does this to any degree, you are not welcome here. Ik I already put pedos on the DNI, but I just want to make it clear that I do not support anything like this

This user is abrosexual!

[whumperofworlds]

Whump Ask Game: Bound positions!

Send an ask with a number and a character/OC and I'll write a drabble! Feel free to tell me what restraints (rope, chains, handcuffs, etc) and if they should be gagged too!

1. Tied up while sitting on the floor

2. Tied to a chair.

3. Tied to a pole.

4. Stress position (feel free to describe the position!)

5. Tied to a bed

6. Tied to a wall

7. Tied up while standing

8. Wrapped up

9. Tied to/under a stairway

10. Tied back to back to someone else (tell me the other character/OC!)

11. Tied up while lying on the floor

12. Unwilling suspension

13. Tied to a tree

14. Tied spreadeagled (on the ground, bed, etc.)

15. Tied to a bomb

16. Tied to an operating table

17. Tied to the railroad tracks

18. Tied to a rock

19. Hogtied

20. Something else! (Tell me! 👀)

(Feel free to reblog!)

[novella-november]

hi!!! to your knowledge has anyone started a discord server for novella november? i know theres no official one but id LOVE a group to work with! ^_^

Not that I know of so far! But a server is surprisingly easy to make if you already know how Discord works, so feel free to create your own and invite some friends!

Or, if anyone wants to make discords based on locality, language, genre, etc, feel free!

This blog will always be open to answering questions, sharing resources, tips, etc, so don't be afraid to send an ask, just know it might take me a day or so to answer!

As we get closer to November and also October, I'd be more than happy to create posts each week where people can post in the Replies to have discussions on the topic; as of earlier today I think it was, Tumblr rolled out an update vastly increasing the character-limit of replies, so with that plus the Reply button now making actual threads, it will be much easier to have a kind of forum-like discussion on tumblr without huge reblog-chains !

If there's anything in particular you are looking for help with, feel free to ask! And don't forget, there's free options like the Ohwrite room I created that anyone who wants a "writing buddy" (or two. Or dozen) can use to write while tracking other people's progress as fun motivation!

[prestonmonterey]

intro

!! plz dont send me chain asks !!

(pronouns page is linked on there but also here if you dont wanna look for it:)

ok so uhh basically the gist of it

hi

im preston

uhh for names call me preston or pres or squid or orion or jaxon or actually just whatever you want i dont mind (more on my prounouns page) (if we're friends/moots feel free to gimme a nickname if ya want)

pronouns are it/he/they (the order of preference changes from time to time also neos are alright just anything other than she/her)

fandoms im most active in: varian and the seven kingdoms/tangled the series, camp here and there (will wood too!!), adamandi, the art of pleasing princes, starkid, spies are forever and percy jackson (mostly the musical bc im in a production of it :)

you can always interact with me! apparently im intimidating but i swear im really nice (i think) and id be really happy if you sent an ask at any time :3 i promise i wont get annoyed even if you think youre being annoying i just really like interacting with cool people :3

you can tag me in anything and everything! i promise ill look at it :3 and i try my best to do tag games and stuff (lmk if you dont want me to tag ya) but if i dont uhh, just assume i was like, really tired that day, or ive been tagged by another moot in that game before and im too lazy to dig it up :P sry

uhh im a minor too so like nsfw/18+ blogs dni

i try my best to use tone tags but if i forget and you need them please let me know!! (i also find tone tags helpful for myself) :3

theres more info on my card about like other stuff too

tag key:

#marble musings = original posts

#marble monologues = long posts/reblogs usually about chnt or just like existentialism idk

#marble draws = art/fanart/crafts/cosplay type thing

#marble games = i make games on google forms! hoping to learn to code or get an actual game engine to make full games past like choose your own adventures

#marble music = song covers :3 (yes i have all the filtered instrumentals i used for adamandi, lmk if you want them i can send em over discord or something)

#marble asks = answering stuff in my ask box

i think thats all of them :3 might add more eventually, and sometimes i forget to tag properly so sorry about that :(

i have some sideblogs if you wanna check em out (not super active on them but ill still try to respond if you shoot me an ask)

hatchetfield rp sideblogs: @thelilcloverpatch @fading-angelic-starlight @marble-man @honey-sparrow @ivy-wreathed-arches

and @hatchetfield-bone-thief

theyre all dead and uhh tw for spookies and violence and blood and sh and ritualistic sacrifice

i have a couple other blogs but those are secret :D