#please don't like my starters - it's annoying & most that do don't even reply

[hobiespick]

Heya! I was wondering if you got any headcanons for Sam Winchester x werewolf! Reader, except, reader can actually turn whenever she (or gn if you want) wants, and the only real thing a full moon does is force her to be in her werewolf form (aka force her to keep the wolf teeth and claws out for no reason)

The thing that should not be

Pairings : Sam Winchester x reader

a/n : FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, HI, HELLO, IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG I SUCK SO BAD, IM SO SORRY. My requests aren't open (yet) but its not even your fault I should have 100% specified that, but this is my first ever ask and ur also one of my favourite moots and I didn't want to dissapoint so here are some fuckinf cute Sam x Werewolf!Reader. I felt the carnal need to write a metric fuckton of context before getting into the actual headcanons (which are very long I have no idea if they can be considered as hcs) so the reader gets beaten up by earth-shattering plot purposes :3. Sammy juicy headcanons start when you see the '🧿' emoji if you don't wanna read the context (melodramatic sigh). And yes the title of the fic is based on the metallica song :). as always, enjoy my shitty thoughts <3

Warnings: angst with comfort (no don't clap it's fine, omg ur makin me blush); guess who joined the cool kids club and uses "____." instead of "Y/n"; literally a flash of gore, shitty dad(s), fake death, mentions of suicide, Sam looks at you and goes DO YOU WANT M-; Dean being himself; reader is also a hunter and has been raised like that (fml); Dean makes a twillight refrence; reader is frankenstein coded in the most nuanced way, Mary Shelley please don't haunt me; Dean is very happy to have a bestfriend/sister :)

word count: 8,102

- Okay, so for starters, the fact that you aren't actually a monster (you don't get the urge to kill or wreak havoc) is actually a supernatural miracle.

Your parents haven't talked to you since you called them the night you were hunting a werewolf and told them, horror-struck between sniffles and voice cracks, that it bit you, and you’re going to turn, and you’re horrified, and you’re going to drive home to put a pistol in your father's hand and hopefully stop you from turning in the thing you shouldn't be.

Your father replied, after successfully not saying a word besides "Hey, kid-" before getting cut off by you and your hiccups. He sank his teeth into the inside of his cheek, enough to draw blood.

"You are not to come home; your mother won't bear to see you like this."

Your father objected before telling you you can finish the job by yourself; you always have.

He abruptly ended the phonecall like you weren't his daughter, more like an annoying salesman. You don't know what he'll say to your mother after that call; that was the hospital, and you tragically died? "Died a hero.." Your father would say when he described another hunter's tragic passing at the dinner table—paranormal tragic passing. So paranormal that your mother had knocked on wood and prayed it wouldn't get you or your family.

So you don't call, It's really me, dad. I'm fine, I figured it out by myself. How could you? after him suggesting it's better to kill yourself than take a shot at finding a solution together? You would rather have him believe you're dead. Or at least cry with you; it's okay, honey. come home; it'll be okay, spend the last days at home, please-

The last word you get from him is a text message you are too quick to open on your flip-phone to see the next day. When you rub at your eyebags after tracking down a witch, the witch. It was the second day when everything about you felt off; you were squemish, anxious, and haven't left your motel room all day. if you get this—the message read, "if you get this?!" if you get this, if you get this, if you get this—your brain repeats it over and over, taking the words apart and tattooing itself that phrase, because it held much more meaning to it than your father probably didn't intend; he would hear it if he read it before sending, you thought, that little 'if' haunting and tormenting like a damn demon. if you haven't already killed yourself; if you haven't already turned into something that took my daughter, my pride and joy, away from me; if you haven't already died–

- speaking to you like he's directly referring to the disease in your veins. Your brain moves on and reads the next ridiculous waste of your attention. I wanted you to know I told your mother that it was the hospital I was talking to yesterday, calling that you’re dead, house fire, so no remains to pick up—Damn, you know him or what? Even your fake death is stripped away from it's respect—"no remains to pick up"—like a toppled statue, a monument of what was once a hero (in dad's old-fashioned monster-hunting world), shattered and insignificant, no longer breathing or living, if you ever even had. Or a tree struck by lighting, again, "no remains to pick up" no meaningful remains or genuinely nothing, just a memory of another young hunter who died 'tragically'. You could imagine your tombstone with an even dumber epitaph to match it and an empty or nonexistent grave lying six feet underneath for closure. Your eyes move on, there will be a funeral with no grave, of course, I just wanted you to know that your mother and everyone else is devastated, we miss you, sugar. I love you, kid. Your father had overestimated your suicidal tendencies, and the way he didn't try to save his daughter in order to not go against the rules and possibilities of hunting only showed you how much he loves you.

So you track down the witch. You barely make it to her doorstep when she opens it with a too reassuring smile, saying your name and that she expected you, even going as far as offering you tea after opening the door and letting you in, to which you declined. You're not an idiot. But you do sit down, forced, when she, Willow Thorne, won't have you, a guest, standing up, a whole damn hunter being forced to sit down and accept being treated kindly like you deserve. When you walked in, the entire image of a satanic worshipper who sold her soul to demons and hexed everybody—that you betted all your life savings fitted the description of Willow shattered and laughed in your face.

Her home was filled with plants hanging and resting in every corner she could place; various crystals were sitting in cute porcelain plates like candy, candles of different colors on a bookshelf filled with books like The Language of Flowers, Astronomy for Beginners, and Sigils. Even more crystals, bigger and taller ones on a purple tablecloth. The house is adorned in shades of dark purple, violet, green, and warm colors. This home was a whimsigothic musem that would send your thirteen-year-old self into a shrieking, excited mess. Your parents never let you own crystals or a tarot deck; they were too afraid you'd turn darkside one way or another. well, mommy, daddy, if you could see me right now with lycanthrope blood pumping through my veins.

Willow Thorne is a wiccan type of witch; she does not receive her power from demons; she receives her magic from nature and probably practices her witchcraft the way she sees fit. This doesn't help build back the distrust you were trained to have in her. You flinch when you feel a tail curling around your bouncing leg; you glance down, and your eyes are met with a black cat's green ones—this must be her familiar—the little words on his purple collar reading 'Creek'. She gives you another flash of her warm smile and starts talking about her cat. This can't be real. Your every instinct screams that you should take her down or that she will take you down. Your options shrink the longer you stay. You keep a hand anxiously fiddling with your belt, thinking about the gun in your waistband. She's deceiving you with honeyed words and unassuming appearance; who the fuck knows, maybe the cat is manipulating you too. Throwing up would be the calmest reaction you could have right now, because the thoughts in your head started going at each other's throats and doubting in this situation could get you killed. Thoughts like, fuck her, her cozy house with purple witchy twitchy girl interior, and her affectionate black cat she mentioned she rescued when nobody would because of superstitions—you curse in your head, you're not actually upset at her although you do not let your guard down, you're upset at yourself for being so easily coaxed into trusting her, it's all too easy, and it is intimidating you.

You're pretty sure you're gonna rip your vocal cords out of frustration and an overall feeling of overwhelmingness; everything seems to piss you off today, even more than usual. How are you good?! All bright and beaming with nothing but positivity. You're not supposed to be good! I have believed all my life you aren't!..are you like me too? A thing that should not be? Before breaking down and crying about your situation, and if you did, she would make you that tea and rub your back with her hand that radiated ease and made you slump your shoulders with relief.

Before you get other fun thoughts like Am I on the wrong side of the war? You start discussing bussiness since you forgot that's what your here for. Even if your eyes water like a little kid after being scolded for something they didn't do, your voice is nowhere near close to sounding like one. You demand a cure, bargaining for a deal to stop the lycanthropy metamorphosis you feel taking over little by little and make you human again. If she can't, you have a gun with silver bullets in your trunk and your will written out, but by now it probably has no significance.

Much to your disappointment, she—Willow—insisted you called her, tells you she cannot take away your curse, but she can soothe it a little, keep it in a cage locked deep into your subconscious. In exchange, she could ask for fucking anything in the world, but she wants loyalty.

"Define, loyalty." You ask through gritted teeth, yeah, that will stop the tears, definitely, great intimidation skills, _____ .

"I'm talking about respect, mutual aid, when it all comes down for me, when I get threatened by a hunter, I want you to be there. I need you to have my back." She admitted, studying your eyes trying to reslove the conflict in them, anything that could give her hope. You couldn't explain this to anyone, ever, Yeah I almost turned into a werewolf once but my witch friend did a ritual on me, so i'm all good now.

Willow is now sitting on an ottoman facing her couch, where you're sitting. Her hands fidget with her bracelets until she clasps them together, and she is leaning towards you. Her gentle tone is imbued with gentle authority that commands her mutual respect without making her overbearing. Keeping steady eye contact, she is discussing serious matters with a serious tone like she should. You can't lie, it catches you off-guard, it herds you in the corner and softly shakes your shoulders, forcing you to listen.

You'd be every synonym in the dictionary for the word 'idiot' if you hadn't accepted this deal. You shake hands, and the warm smile she wears causes a domino effect, making you do the same, even if you had been crying.

It's a funky ritual. She makes you lay on the couch while she lights all sorts of candles; she closes the curtains even though it's already dark so light cannot come in. The only light present is the salt lamp in the far corner and the numeruous lighted candles. She even has to kick Creek out of the room, much to the cat's protests outside the door. They slowly come to a stop as he finds something that's more interesting than whatever ritual his owner is cooking up with a guest—that he feels drawn to for whatever reason. You feel nervous, and she feels nervous too, because you are. Willow reassures you and tells you that after it ends you will pass out for a while, but that's fine because she says you can spend the night if she isn't pushing it.

The celling becomes your newest fascination, and you study every small bump and gray spot in order to distract your mind from... well, thinking. Not for the ritual, but for reassurance, she lies and says you have to hold her hand. Her warm hand against yours seems to punch out of your lungs every doubt whether this will work or not and the sadness your father produced with an unfatherly amount of bluntness and cold parenting that was the verbal equivalent of stabbing your spine and twisting the knife, but you can't pull out the knife, well, you can try, but it will hurt even worse and it will infect spreading yellow or purple marks around it–. She—her hand—has the ability to make you breathe again without feeling like you have leg irons around your neck dragging it down and hands squashing your lungs to bits. She speaks incantations in what you know is latin and instructs you to close your eyes. You swear you hear a candle stop burning in the process—something you can't physically hear, but you had. You can make out a few words (your ears keep ringing and something is happening because you hear her voice; it's distorted and weird, but she told you, strictly, not to open your eyes, so you don't). Words like: lupus-wolf, tollere-take away? You're not sure on that one; that's what three straight days of crying might do to one, mutare- which means change. Okay, that was a nice distraction now what el–

You feel the imprint of a huge dog-like paw pressing into your Adam's apple and cutting off your breath. She obviously takes notice by the way you're writhing and choking and swatting away at nothing—something you're trying to fight even with closed eyes, but there is nothing there. Your palm doesn't make contact with anything. Quickly, Willow chants something you're too busy choking to catch. The pressure on your throat dissolves, and you can breathe again. She calms her own breath and squeezes your hand. When she doesn't feel you squeeze back, she remembers that you're supposed to pass out after the spell. Willow drapes a blanket on you and goes off to order something to eat. When she opens the living room door, Creek doesn't hesitate to run in and settle on your chest. The cat purrs as he patiently waits for you to wake up.

You wake up fifteen minutes later with the smell of food flooding your nostrils, stronger than it has ever been before. It's almost like it's sitting right under your nose. You open your eyes, and the smell has a color, and you can clearly see how it snakes its way in from the kitchen into the half-open door. Your nails feel heavier than usual. This is hopefully a fever dream. But the food isn't here, nor is Willow; you can hear her humming a song in the kitchen, Voodoo Chile by Jimi Hendrix.

The weight of the shadow on your chest brings you back to earth, and you run your hands through his black fur with closed eyes as your head falls back onto the couch. The feeling of fur on your fingertips feeding to your serotonin levels rising. Creek seems to know what it's like to be disowned by your own father and forced to have a fake death in order to 'die' in a way that won't make your mother think you were cursed, or worse, that the whole family is now. Creek notices you're awake and gets off you, but not before making biscuits.

"Thanks, Creek." You mumble before pushing yourself up in a sitting position with a groan.

You can feel the rich, velvety, dark green rug beneath your socks; you would have appreciated it properly if you could actually see the details woven into it. Your eyes keep focusing and unfocusing like they're getting adjusted, and the room doesn't seem so dark anymore. God, how long did you pass out? As you tried to gather your thoughts (if the spell was easy on you enough to actually leave some), memories of the ritual came flooding back—the chanting in latin, the flickering candle(s), the punching smell of herbs, the murder attempt from a wolf spirit/ghost?! who the hell knows anymore? Now you were wide awake, and everything felt different. If it weren't for the fucking ritual that was just performed on you, you would've blamed the faint ringing in your years, shitty eyesight, and banging headache on a terrible hangover or a cold so bad it would make your throat ache for the tea your mom would make you when your immune system failed you. She promised she would teach me how to make it. Your grief echoed to you.

You rub at your temples at thats when you notice why did your nails feel heavier than usual. You had fucking claws, well, not animal claws, but they are honorably elongated and sharper than they had ever been. As you looked up from your lap, your eyes fell on a mirror.

A tall mirror leaning on its back legs, with black edges and details on the rim, you would again appreciate if you had the ability to see a single thing in the distance.

Your eyes widened, mortified, seeing yourself. It looked like one of your parents's worst nightmares. Something out of a dream your mom would have—a nightmare so nasty and vivid she would be forced by her paranoia to get up and check that you're still in bed sleeping soundly.

Your eyes were no longer the familiar color you have seen in the mirror or in old photos of your family members you've grown to love. The shade wasn't even close to yours; crazy how one small change made such a big difference in your appearance. Your pupils were slitted vertically, shrinking only to dilate a little once again, getting adjusted. You slowly got up on foal legs and fell on your knees in front of the mirror. Even if you didn't think it was night because you weren't seeing darkness, the light of the moon shone down on the mirror and floor thanks to the now open curtains. That's when your vision stopped unfocusing and finally cleared.

You were now looking at yourself. It felt incredibly alien and familiar at the same time; you looked at yourself every day, whether it was the mirror in your bathroom at home, a crappy motel one that faced the bed (which you cover up with a scoff each time), or a reflection in the car of your vanity mirror checking yourself before going in a precinct, pretending to be a reporter (the things middle-aged pigs would confess to a doe-eyed girl from the press..).

You gently pulled the corner of your upper lip only to reveal your enlarged and sharpened front canines. Your hand fell and instead went to cover your mouth in order to muffle your sobs. You must have done a horrible job because the second you slapped the hand over your mouth, you heard Willlow gasp as if she felt it too.

She drops the food she was unpacking and runs in, taking a moment to calm her heaving chest in the doorway; her hands were holding it like an earthquake had shaked her up; even her round glasses had slipped and rested on the tip of her nose.

"_______, you woke up!" she exclaims cheerfully. "I was just—how do you fee-?"

She kept stuttering and cutting herself off. Willow didn't need to say anything else; she saw the tears welling up in your eyes and felt the same shock you did from the kitchen.

🧿🧿🧿- later on, you have to bump into the Winchesters one way or another

- and it's exactly on a full moon when this time the ball isn't in your court and you don't get to decide whether you turn or not.

- your claws are sharp, your eyes have changed their original color completely with your pupils vertically slit, and your teeth (conveniently) remain the same; only a few of your front canines are enlarged and sharpened.

- as for senses, it's downright spectacular.

- you can hear deer stepping on tree branches, foxes running, and owls hooting when you're driving by the forest

- you smell how many people are in a room

- you have night vision (yes, your eyes to the flashy thingamajiggy when someone blinds you with their flashlight).

- as a hunter, you already know that your claws and fangs can rip out a human heart.

- ironically, as this whole situation is, you hunt alone on the principle that you don't long for companionship as some lycanthropes do.

- you've turned into a literal killing machine with no instinct to kill, so hunting with others is off the table since at the first sign of a threat (they think you are one, but you really aren't), a hunter exterminates.

- you meet the Winchesters on a ghoul hunt

- you have taken the case before them, but when you couldn't get anywhere with identifying whatever evil being was tormenting the locals with their mere presence, you thought about ditching it since it doesn't look like your type of thing and took the consideration that maybe humans were fucking around this time.

- so when you heard the FBI are in town investigating the case (detective Page and Plant), you placed that town in your rear view mirror; they got it covered..right?

- but something didn't feel right- it wasn't the shame of leaving a case with your tail between your legs (pun intended) with the weak motive, 'Maybe humans are really fucking around this time.'

- something wasn't right, so even if you were tired, you abruptly stopped the car and went over your research spread out on the flat of your closed trunk

- the slits of your eyes dance over the words on your laptop, your papers, and an old lore book you fought tooth and nail for. When you realized it's a ghoul you're dealing with, you turned the car around and went over every speed limit like hellhounds were scratching at your tires. It was your job to not let anybody else get hurt or someone else's grave be violated

- as the light of the moon shined down on you and your wild eyes looked back at you from the rear view mirror, you knew you couldn't have anyone see you, you had to be invisible

- *time skip* (as much as it pains me 'cause i am a sucker for details :))- you swoop in time to save the Winchesters

- and if they weren't tied up, they would've started fighting you too, because why was there a whole ass werewolf fist fighting a ghoul?? John trained them like Spartan warriors, but nothing prepared them for something like this.

- so they sit there like:??????

- they watch you take out a fucking ghoul all by yourself

- the head of the ghoul's person they're impersonating rolls onto the floor. You have to remind yourself it's not a real person; it's an evil spirit who kills to feed

- by the time you wipe the blood off your face, smearing it a bit in the process, and cut the ties holding the hunters loose, Sam is unnable to look away from your slit eyes adorned by a strange color that strangely suits you

- literally hearts in his fawn brown eyes like you still don't have blood on your face and you aren't trying to catch your breath; also, you took a nasty punch to your cheek, and he's pretty sure it's gonna leave a bruise, but he totally doesn't care, why? why do you ask?

- by the way Sam is scrunitizing you, and oh yeah, Sam is scrunitizing you, you're sure you're gonna have to ditch since you've been in this situation before and you know how it always ends

- there was no 'explaining yourself' to hunters when they saw you under the full moon or when they saw you change because you had to.

Before you can even open your mouth they have their methaphorical pitchforks sharpened and torches lit up, prepared to slaughter you, and if you're honest, you can't even blame them for it because you would've done the same.

- Dean rubs his wrist with his right hand; the imprint of the rope is still fresh on his skin like a tattoo. Sam focuses on not choking when you catch him staring.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean thinks out loud. You take a big lungs-exploding sigh and give a shot at introducing yourself since they seem more civilized than most hunters are

- Sam geeks out about you

He doesn't question you because he is suspicious (he has the right to be but surprisingly isn't). He has to feed his noisy, information-hungry brain or he will spontaneously combust

- "Are your senses even more enhanced during the full moon, or are they the same?"

- "Can you smell when somebody is afraid? Like the hormones from their pores?"

- "Is it annoying to always have super hearing? Like has it ever caused you to be..I don't know.. Anxious? It did?" He mourns over you, trying to imagine himself in your situation but possibly can't.

- "I'm really sorry you had to go through a whole..change all by yourself, but it just shows how strong you are, some don't even make it 'til the end."

- After you were done explaining to Sam (to which he gladly sat himself down and listened) how sometimes you genuinely consider you're inevitably going to become what you hunt and how in the beginning you and your senses have butted heads, how you had no idea how to go through it without having panic attacks because the click of a doorknob was sensitive to your hearing like a veteran was scared of fireworks, how you accidentally ripped a motel door off its hinges, a result of you being slightly irritated, still getting acoustumed to your abilities. Dean would go.

"..Do dog whistles work on y–" Before getting an elbow in the ribs by a glaring Sam.

- more shit Dean would ask you for the sake of his own little curiosity

- "Is 'bitch' even more offensive now?"

- "Who do you think would win in a fight? You or Jacob Black?"

- "What do I smell like? Y'know, since you can pick up on scents and alldat."

- Dean calls you Cujo

- It's the one nickname you can get behind, asking him what he thought about the book, and he's like, "Oh, I watched the movie, but i know a little. Sammy used to rattle on and on about his books when he was younger."

- if you think about it, an alais doesn't sound so bad in theory or practice while hunting.

- it's secretive, the boys don't need to divulge your real name, and it's actually high-key kickass (I literally watched Cujo just so I know what I'm talking about, a.k.a. the second reason why it took a millenium and a half for me to post these; the first reason is that i suck)

- Dean is thrilled to get to call you that- he gets this fucking smirk, like a dad about to drop the worst joke ever made on everyone, you and Sam brace yourselves for what's coming with matching eyerolls-

"Let's fuck em' up, Cujo."

- "Cujo, dude, you're just itching to raise a little hell right now, aren't you?"

- "Uh- a bacon cheeseburger, soda, yo, Cujo whaddya want? My treat >:]."

- "Cujo, put on that song you were listening to; I had it in my head the entire hunt." (I didn't mention the genre or artist bc I like to imagine Dean listening to everyone's fav category; ex. I imagine Dean screaming bikini kill lyrics whenever i'm sad)

- if you thought the 'canine/wolf' teasing stopped here, you're so painfully wrong

- Dean made you a mixtape, because that's his love language apparently, with only songs that are about werewolves

- I feel like it took him a longer time to find a suitable title than the songs themselves

- he has all of the possible picks on a piece of paper that stays in the pocket of his fifty pound leather jacket.

- the titles are: Songs to transform into; The howlin' hits; Songs that will make you wag your tail—that one is crossed out because he knows you will make him eat the tape if he does settle on it; Love at first bite; and finally the one he settled for is Songs you can sink your teeth into. Dean smiled at his work, it didn't feel like a prank anymore it was more like a gift and he didn't feel any ugly emotion or insecurity try to pull him back into not getting attached to you.

The final touch was a note saying

"Hey, Cujo, thought you might want these howlin' hits whenever you need to tune the world out.

P.S. : Sam told me to add one of the songs, it's that punk stuff you like - Dean"

- The songs he prudently picked out are these : Of Wolf and Man by Metallica; Bark at the Moon by Ozzy Osbourne; I Was A Teenage Werewolf by The Cramps; Wolf Moon by Type O Negative; Witch Wolf by STYX; Run with the Wolf by Rainbow; Lycanthropy by G.B.H and others.

- you accidentally made a kid cry once- a ball was literally flying towards you and you caught it just in time, thanks to your reflexes

- instinctively, you turned around in time and caught the ball as your claws grew and sank into the inanimate object

- it's all "Nice relfexes, _____" praise from Dean and proud and shy smiles from Sam until the owner of the ball starts sobbing in front of you

- it's a kid, a boy with red hair, no older than six years of age

- but we all know Dean's charm is basically made for this

- so he handles both the kid and his mom (flirting with a milf all day, poor Dean)

- you keep apologizing to the kid and the mom, but Dean just waves you off; you don't understand his generosity until Sam tells you that you accidentally secured Dean's hookup for tonight.

- Since Dean is not coming, not until early morning, nor is he there to call you and Sam 'dorks', you and his younger brother take advantage of it.

- you guys have a movie night with the most random movies ever

- it is chaotic

- from rom-coms you switch to a world war II documentary, then you watch re-runs of House MD on tv.

- Dean stumbles in at like five something a.m. and takes a picture of you and Sam snuggling under a blanket while the tv light casts shadows of orange and cold colors on your defenseless expressions.

- but can somebody actually blame you? Or Sam, for that matter?

- honorably want to mention your body heat is also enhanced

- You and Sam were sitting with your sides pressed into each other

- you were radiating pure furnace body heat, how could he not be sleepy??

- but that's not the only reason Sam knocks out so heavily

- it's you he's sitting down with (relaxing for once in his life) watching a ridiculous episode of House with thirteen ads rolling every ten minutes accompanied by lazy talking as if you're not debating books only you and morally grey forty-year-olds read (where that Kansas drawl of his is much more audible and pretty), after a marathon of fatally random movies

- younger Sam who had trouble going to sleep/getting some shut-eye because Dean and John are out late on a hunt.

- Sam especially couldn't fall asleep because Dean wasn't there

- it was a different story when Dean was at the age where he couldn't hunt but he could use a pistol and take care of his little brother

- both of them in a relatively warm motel room, alone (since John fucked off to god-knows-where, to hunt a monster they are never to breathe in the direction of as a conversation subject.)

- little Sammy (age where he believed nothing could beat his older brother) could peacefully fall asleep knowing Dean stays up and watches over him like a hawke, reading comic books by the tv light

- where little Dean keeps chanting in his head what Sammy is supposed to do after eating his dinner.

- Watch tv or look at the comic with me (Sammy can't read yet), brush his teeth, then tuck him in bed.

- now pre-teen Sam can hardly sleep

- he is plagued/tormented by flashing images his overthinking big brain mades of a thousand situations where his family got hurt, if not even killed

- Sam's grip on the shotgun is shaking; it shakes even harder when John's bark booms over his shoulder, right into his ear.

- "Sammy, dammit, what are you going to do when a demon breaks through the door and me and your brother aren't there to protect you?!"

- but Sam isn't twelve anymore

- he's a responsible adult

- snuggled beside you and denying any eepy allegations you decide to accuse him of

- so, the heat you contribute, the soft speaking on the tv, the darkness of the room, you being there is enough to lull Sam to sleep

- studies show you feel sleepy around the people you trust ;)

- the position you two fell asleep in cannot be described in any other word than childish

- somehow you would catch two kids, sleeping over at one of the other's houses, knocked out, and snoring in the same bed after watching a horror movie

- on one of the two queens the motel room contributes (the one closest to the tv) you and Sam have made this fluffy nest full of pillows, a huge blanket, plus a random quilt Bobby pulled out of thin air and gave it to you when he heard you complaining about the petal-thin blankets motels have during cold ass weather.

- When you both lied down on the bed with your legs greedily streched out, backs pressed against the headboard, and your head is resting on the wall while Sam, magically, was still able to hold his up after the very long day all of you endured. You predicted one of you wouldn't survive being in each other's presence and make it out not asleep, and god, you hoped it was you.

- Sam's breathing slows down after a while of comfortable silence, and you’re sure he's dying until you spare one quick glance and see him, downright snoozing with his lips parted without a care in the world, ghosts and eerie phenomenons weren't bothering or needing him now.

- during all of the movies and documentary and fuckin lazy intellectual commentary nobody else would have the patience to discuss with you or Sam, he somehow migrated on the bed/nest with his side flush against yours, like a magnet to another; it was inevitable not to stick together, literally.

- your shoulder was now pressed into his forearm, your head no longer resting uncomfortably, and his temple is resting on the top of your head.

- but (unfortunately) you weren't hugging or anything- like a mirror or a copycat, Sam has his arms crossed, just like you, so maybe that's why you didn't wake up full on cuddling, that does sound good though your brain mourns

- When you do wake up, the only slight change you notice is that you're sleeping on your side..so is Sam. You're facing Sam's neck and chin, and up close and personal, you can actually count the too-sexy amount of moles he modestly posesses. His arm serves the role of a pillow underneath his head, and the other is resting with his palm down facing the mattress.

- with Sam taking up the entire attention of your senses, it takes an emmbarassing while for you to hear the shower running, Dean; did he see you both like this? Was he going to mention it? Your gut fills with a small dose of embarrassement, preparing you for what's yet to come, and it protests at that.

- much displeasure from your senses to your brain and your heart that wanted to breathe Sam in more as he (hopefully) breathes you out, you turn on your other side, unconsciously careful not to disturb Clifford over here, and you try to determine what time it is from your surroundings alone.

- the light blue sneaking its way through the dark closed curtains and the slight chill in the air points all arrows to seven or eight in the morning, you could go back to sleep.

- Dean wasn't just feeling gracious; he didn't and wasn't even planning on sparing you or Sam

- that day, when he separately gets the both of you alone, he has the exact same conversation with different but not so different people.

-"You should've seen the two of you this morning when I came in, two kittens snoring together, it was fuckin' adorable." Dean teased–

—Monday, 13:34 p.m. — as he tossed his clothes into one of the laundromat's washing machines, making Sam paralyze in his seat as his fingers started fidgeting with the edges of his hoodie.

"You did?.." He inquires, not knowing what exactly Dean saw just this morning. Sam only woke up a little after you went back to sleep. He swore his cheek must have burned a hole through the pillow with how hard he was blushing. You were so close. There was a good distance between the edge of the bed and you. So your back was flush against his chest. If you're wondering where his arm went, it was around your waist. Sam—your own personal seatbelt. He probably thinks it's his fault too. Dean never ceased to describe Sam as a 'cuddlebug'.

"Uh-huh" Dean hums a confirmation, acting casual, scarily casual. Sam feels the teasing in Dean's tone; it's there, but Dean is not fully teasing yet, like he wants Sam to confess something first after boiling in his embarrassement for long enough.

—Monday, 20:02 p.m. — as he pulled the Impala into the driveway of a fast-food place you were so invested in you even forgot the name of; you froze and looked at him, searching for any emotion that might give him away, but Dean was a brick wall, a slight very Dean siginificant parted lips smirk paired with squinted eyes over the wheel, carefully driving into the driveway. Even the car seemed to betray you in your moment of weakness because you swear the volume is lower than it was a few seconds ago. Ozzy Osbourne's laugh can still be heard from the speakers, even if it's barely audible over your racing thoughts or your hearing trying its hardest to pick up on Dean's thoughts. The rythym of the drums seems to sync up with your heartbeat, or the other way around, you're not sure. Over every little sound, there still seems to be a little silence to fit in. You swallow a lump in your throat.

"..We had a movie night, we just fell asleep like that, that's all." You mumble, and Dean starts to feel a little bad for letting you be a victim to his spotlight-teasing and giving you no shade to reprieve to or show his undying approval.

Somehow, you still worry if Dean believes you have ruined the dynamic, and now he's cornering you to tell you to stop it or something (overthinking anxiety worms are eating away at your critical thinking skills). You just worry about what he thinks of this. You still worry about the Dean who doesn't correct random people on cases who mistake you and Sam for a couple; the Dean who just has to leave some arsenal or luggage in the front, just so you are forced to share the backseat with Sam; the Dean who always has to group you and Sam in a category when he teases you both (Geeks, nerds, smartasses, etc.). Cupid works hard, but Dean Winchester works harder.

"Hey-, Cuj- Doll." Dean sputters, switching glances between you and the wheel.

This didn't go as he planned it would, and now he is facing the consequences. The way you shrink in your seat and the way you avoid catching his eye makes Dean feel like a douchebag. If he didn't know any better he would thinks he is, but then you would actually be able to read him like a book and tell him otherwise. You hear the desperation in his voice; your candle of hope comes back to life and lights up. Your head turns to look at him with pleading eyes. Please don't be angry, please don't kick me to the curb, let me stay in the backseat a little more. Dean lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a laugh; he runs a hand down his face. You've watched him do that every time he got jumpscared by the monthly spirit with unfinished business. It was something you imagined Dean picked up from John, the picture in your head so clear (at least from the pictures you saw)— a tired dad in an old squeaky motel chair with a whiskey glass in his hand doing the same motion Dean was doing right now. Dean would mimic his father's gestures to try to look more like him; he didn't have his brunette curly hair, his dark brown eyes, Sam did.

Dean never had his voice either; he only perfected his bark to match his dad's. Sam hated the way his reflection resembled his father, Dean was either jealous of him for it or couldn't wrap his head around as to why his brother hated being their dad, probably the latter. Dad, at least in Dean's eyes, was a hero, a figure to be admired and emulated. But Sam? He didn't even have to try. Sam and John were so alike that they clashed constantly like two stubborn stags locking antlers in a duel.

"..Dean?" You call him out; you had no idea what was going on in his head; it would be pretty damn nice if you could know. Dean shots his head up at the mention of his name.

"Yeah?—sorry, I just, you and Sam are just so—" He sighs. "it's about time you two crazy kids broke that touch barrier." He guffaws, slowly pulling up to the ordering kiosk.

A new song starts playing on Dean's "hot summa' nights driving" mixtape, Emmit Remmus by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, he added it when Sam said that's one of his favorites.

- do I need to talk about how much of an immense help you have been on hunts?

- you don't need to help out on every hunt despite Sam's disappointment and Dean's kid-like joy to have their friend help them out who is a professional/werewolf/hunter/geek, who kind of gets his references?? But you are geniunely so good it's funny to have the boys call you up and be like "..so we need help". They're happy you'll show up but there is still that lick of shame that taunts the Winchesters whenever they are forced to call for aid.

- this one time, you wanted to hug them after not seeing them for two weeks, and when you went to attack Sam, you heard his bones crack.

- your strength still surprises you and knocks other people off their feet

- it was so loud (atleast for you), you were sure you broke something

- Sam did nothing but give you his (killer) dimply smile and reassure you didn't do anything (even if he slightly grunted); while Dean whined like a kid saying (lying) he doesn't want a hug (you coaxed him into it eventually)

- Sam feels like he's not allowed to call you by your nickname, like he fears it's Dean's thing and not his

- so when he finally puts on his big boy pants, he's like, "Uhh–Cujo- 🧍‍♂️so get this.."

- all red and shy, trying to act casual, as if he doesn't wonder about the reaction you might have if he calls you other nicknames, like honey, sweetheart, even baby, or if he had the excuse to hold your hand, how would you hold it? Fingers interlocked or palms flat?

- Sam would also love to just marvel at your slit eyes; if he could he would take a picture and put it in his wallet; don't get me wrong if he had one where you were normal, he would cherish it just as much.

- Sam thinks your nickname is actually really cool (probably because it's a Stephen King reference, nerd), and you take that as a compliment. Sam is hard to entertain or please by his brother's antics.

- But he prefers saying your name

- there's something so intimate about the syllables rolling off his tongue so easily

- "_____, Are you okay? What is it? The soundproof earmuffs? I'll go get them." When everything, and I mean when every sound is just too much.

- Sam got them for you; he couldn't handle seeing you wince one more time whenever a car with a bad engine would pass by the motel (during a stressful hunt); its tires squealing under the concrete, making a faint sound for the boys, but for you so much louder.

- you know how pathethic it is to be affected by such small things when you're blessed with such powers? How can you call yourself a hunter when decibels, frequencies, and fucking tire squeals make you their bitch? You wish you could train yourself in a way that would make you less sensitive to certain sounds. It just adds to the reasons why hunters have the excuse or classify you as "the frail one" not only because you're a girl. When you used to hunt with your dad and sometimes mom, the amount of dog-shit comments from other hunters who had sons, were nothing but mysogynistic, curlish, and ruthless. "Are you sure the riffle isn't too heavy?", "Does she even know how to kill this thing?", "She's going to drag us down, do you want us to die?"— the type of comments that would make your dad shoot daggers into them, defend you "She's a goddamn ______, what do you think?", and whisper into your ear "Show em' what you're made of." and you would (stubbornly) listen to his advice to the damn letter after you almost mouthed them off.

Your dad believed in "Actions are sometimes louder than words." and all that adult crap, you were not as zen.

Your mom actually encouraged the sarcasm you have replied with in the past. The funniest memory your mother can recall is a story she tells at every gathering and every chance she gets to everyone, she praised you like crazy. When another hunter's son had the nerve to fuck with a twelve-year-old you. "Aren't you afraid of breaking a nail out there?" The boy sneered, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You stared at him with pure disbelief. "The only way I'm breaking a nail tonight is by kicking your ass, you cocky brainless jerk." You spat back, your mother and father were there and so was the boy's father; the gravity of the situation was on your shoulders, and their stares felt even heavier in comparison; intimidating him was 100% on the table. You felt like everyone had the same exact thought occuring them, an unspoken demand passed everyone there, even you: Do something. And you did. Your mother's jaw went slack; she doubled over, gripping whatever surface was near her and she started to chortle, with her shoulders shaking like never before. Your father was holding in a chuckle while massaging the bridge of his nose.

- Sam has to disagree with you whenever you complain about how your senses make you look or about the way you underestimate yourself. "What?! You can't be serious. _____, It doesn't mean you're weak. In fact, it makes you even more interesting. Everyone has an Achilles heel; yours is stronger because you're an amazing hunter who figured a way out. It makes you even stronger, I have no idea how you deal with this crap! Dean and I would've gone insane if we were in your shoes for more than a day."

- he is also forcing back his infamous (spectacular) bitchface

- he doesn't 'hold back' actually

- he geniunely cannot glare at you, not when you're like this. He can make a few exceptions, like when you join in Dean's teasing/joking (the silly rambunctious energy Dean carries around had, unfortunately, contiminated you or awakened yours)

- or when you start teasing Sam yourself, he shoots you a glare that classifies as nothing but hot (in your book at least), the kind of Sam glare that makes you flush knowing he doesn't mean it at all.

- Dean making you those fake ass I.D's like "Joan Jett", "Stevie Nicks", "Kathleen Hanna" and when you asked him to make more subtle ones he was like, bet. "Kelly Hammer", "Diana Bowie", "Laura Ulrich".

a/n: I wanted to apologize again for taking so long and for the unnecessary amount of context that literally nobody asked for. Uhh yeah and feedback would be very much appreciated<3, sava out *mic drop*

[drama--universe]

Almost Drowned

Requested by anonymous: Annyeong, can you please do a Jang Han-Seok/Jang Jun-Woo x female reader imagine ??? Maybe Angst with Fluff(sweet/cute) ending ???

Pairing: Jang Han-Seok/Jun-Woo x fem!reader

Word Count: 730 words

Warnings: tried to make it fluffy at the end, hope it's okay :)

Entering your home, you just wanted to lay down in bed and maybe even cuddle with your boyfriend if he was home. You had the most annoying day at work. An intern had spilled hot coffee all over you and burned a part of your arm due to it, your co-worker of yours had claimed your work as their own and gained a promotion thanks to it, and finally your boss thought that it was okay to put his hands on you. You punched him and lost your job, so... Yeah, definitely not one of the best days you have had.

"Han-Seok?" You called out for your boyfriend, but you received no reply. Even when the lights were on, the apartment felt eerie and you couldn't help but grab the hockey stick beside the door. Your bag was long forgotten by the entrance, the hockey stick in your hand dragged over the floor as you made your way through the house. The sound of water suddenly appeared and you sighed softly, guessing that it was the reason that Han-Seok didn't hear your call. However, that didn't explain the water beneath your feet as it gushed out of the bathroom. So you stayed cautious, raising the hockey stick slightly to push open the bathroom door. You didn't see anything at first, but as you inched closer you noticed a figure in the bathtub. It was only when you realized that is was Han-Seok that you sprung in action. Your weapon fell to the ground with a loud clank as you rushed forward, dropping to your knees. You ignored the pain, pushing your arms into the water and pulling the man up. He gasped for air, trying to keep the water from his eyes as English curses started to roll from his tongue.

"What were you doing?" You exclaimed, but he didn't react as he tried to process everything himself. The name Vincenzo was mentioned in his mumbling and you could only sigh softly as you got up again, pulling a towel towards you to hand to Han-Seok.

"I thought you were killing yourself, dammit." You mumbled as you held out the towel, which Han-Seok grabbed as he got out of the bathtub and he quickly tied it around his waist.

"Like I'd do that." "You kill others, why not yourself either." You replied sarcastically and Han-Seok gave you a look that told you to shut up. You just rolled your eyes before hugging him softly and Han-Seok returned the favor, wrapping his arms around you.

"Why don't you just kill him? Vincenzo, I mean." You asked, looking up to him and he gave you a smirk in return. "Where's the fun in that?" He asked and you hit his chest softly.

"You'll live, how about that for a starter?" You asked and Han-Seok scoffed again, pulling away from the hug as he raked a hand through his hair.

"Where would be the fun in that?" He chuckled before making his way out of the room, leaving out footprints that could only make you groan. You followed him nonetheless, sitting behind him on the bed and grabbing the towel from his hand before looking at his back.

"Who did this?" You asked as you started cleaning the scratches on his bag, avoiding the bullet wound on his lower back since it had been healing nicely. Once you had washed all the blood off again, you pulled a tube of cream from the nightstand and started applying it to the wounds.

"It's nothing serious, darling~. You should've seen the other guy, there's not much left of him by now." Han-Seok spoke and although you could hear a soft joking tone in his voice, you knew well enough that he was dead serious.

"Don't fight too often will you, I can't follow with the washing. Also, stop ruining my floor." You said as you poked a bit harder at one of his wounds, causing him to his and snap his head around to face you. You only patted his cheek softly before continuing with the wounds. When you were completely finished, you put everything away again before handing him his shirt. He pulled it on before turning around to face you, keeping his eyes on yours.

"Am I useful enough?" You asked and Han-Seok smiled, kissing you softly before pulling your down on the bed with him.

"Otherwise I wouldn't keep you around, would I?"

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Library Spot || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: None. (it really fluffy tho)

Wordcount: 2410

Summary: Nothing better post-mission than to snuggle in some cosy hiding spot AN: Thanks Miranda, for reminding me that Four Seasons by Vivaldi exists. I should listen to it more while doodling myself. I can apparently either do soul crushing angst or very soft sugary sweet fluff and little in between. We're not going to argue the logistics of a Walkman playing classical music here I'm already annoyed its a Capitalized Word TM and Quicksilver has some kind of portable music system in Days Of Future Past which is set in what, 1976? I think? -checks- 1973 actually eh I was close. -------------------------------------

She wasn't in the danger room, in the kitchen, in the gym. Not in either of their rooms, and not on the roof either where Kurt now stood with his hands to his sides, thinking of where Miranda could be now that he had crossed off most of her usual spots. He didn't even need to check the waterfall; because that was a late resort hiding spot she only used when severely upset. Which was a mood that had thankfully not occurred in her for quite a while now. Looking over to the usual spot in the garden where she liked to hide out as well, he saw she also wasn't there.

"Well, I'm starting to run out of options.... Right," he muttered to himself, shifting his weight a little as he thought out loud to himself, "I'm Miranda, an introvert in need of time by myself to charge my social battery. If I'm not in my usual hiding spots, where am I?"

He thought for a while until his brain offered one more idea of where she could be, to which he raised an eyebrow. Well, if she wasn't there, he had truly no idea where she would be. Poofing over to the library in the mansion, he looked around until he saw a sliver of wine red between some bookshelves, all the way off into a corner. He teleported over once more as he finally found her. She had burrowed away in the corner furthest away from the door to the library, comfortably nestled in a big bean bag with her legs crossed as the foot on her elevated leg lightly moved along to the music she was listening to on a Walkman. A few art supplies were on a small stool next to her, and she was happily scribbling away on the paper that she had on the clipboard in her lap.

As soon as he appeared, she looked up at him, pushing the headphones off and pausing her music

"Oh, hey, I didn't realise you'd be back so soon or I would've met you outside."

"It's okay; I just wanted to check where you are. Now that I know, I can go if you-"

"Kurt, stay. Please."

He gave a soft smile to her, gesturing at her to sit back down as she made an attempt to leave the bean bag. Because for starters the big bag didn't seem in any hurry to let go of its current occupant, and Kurt had teleported himself in between various objects and people before.

She gave a light squeak as he tossed her up enough to really settle in between her and the semi chair, taking her place in the surprisingly comfortable and warm bean bag while wrapping his arms around her as she was now in his lap, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"What’cha doing?"

"Drawing," she muttered in response, as she leaned a bit further back into his embrace. An embrace she would spend forever in if she only realistically could, "mostly flowers and birds, right now, I don't know, I just felt like doodling. Hey, uhm... This is going to sound stupid-"

"I don't think anything you say is going to sound stupid to me."

"Y-Yeah, well, uhm," her cheeks slowly turned a little red. He might not think it was stupid, but she still felt like she was about to make a very odd request, "can you... wrap your tail around me?"

He blinked just once at it, but silently obliged, gently and loosely wrapping his tail around her lower waist as per her request. Well, she hadn't actually specified where, but that seemed to be the most logical choice, right?

"Like that?" he got a small nod as a reply, "Hm. May I ask why?"

"Dunno," she said as she shrugged, "it just makes me feel protected. Safe. For some reason. Sorry if that doesn't make sense."

Letting her change the position of her arms so she could continue her drawing, Kurt pressed a gentle little kiss to Miranda's shoulder before settling back into his previous pose; he was actually feeling quite comfortable like this.

"Don't apologize. I'm glad it makes you feel safe. What where you listening too, anyway?" and without waiting for an answer he took the headphones, putting one of the soft pads to his ear while yanking the Walkman close enough to press play and listening to the music for a little bit, "Huh. Vivaldi, really?"

"Mh. I like listening to classical when I draw. It's great to keep in the background. But Vivaldi has nothing on you, honestly."

"Huh?"

"Your purr."

Feeling his cheeks burn with heat, Kurt set the Walkman aside with a slight huff. He wasn't. He didn't. Did he? If he did he had never noticed it himself before. Leaning back onto her shoulder, he pouted.

"I don't purr. ... Do I?"

"You do. You're doing it right now," she countered with a soft laugh as she could very clearly hear the light, happy rumble coming from low in his chest, "only happens when you're really comfortable, so I'll take it as a compliment. And... I like it. It's soothing."

"Great; I'm not beating the cat allegations any time soon then."

"You're the best kind of cat in that case: a very snuggly one," Miranda said as another laugh escaped her, turning just enough to him to press a kiss to his cheek before turning her attention back to the drawing she was working on; one of a little hummingbird. She felt the blush on her face blossom further, the comfort from the hug warming her to her core, "... but, seriously.. I don't think I've ever been hugged this much in my life. And, uhm... k-keep doing it? I think I have a lot of not hugging and not cuddling to make up for."

He smiled, slowly tightening his grip on her ever so slightly. That was a request he was all too happy to fulfil; there was little he loved more than cuddling with someone he cared about. And if it helped her in any way he was only too happy to provide the physical affection she had apparently been missing out on for so long.

He liked the way she fit into his arms, anyway, the way she leaned into his embrace now when she definitely had felt more stiff and unsure before- which made sense, he supposed, if she wasn't that familiar with affection like this.

"People compare you to a cat a lot too."

"An obnoxious stray one that won't leave after she's been fed."

"You're not obnoxious," he protested immediately, poking her in her side to which she gave a soft squeak of protest, "You're cute."

"You.... really think so?" she asked quietly after a bit, removing the paper from her clipboard before adding another one and starting a new sketch. Kurt just nodded, softly kissing her shoulder again, "... I think you're cute too."

They sat there together, hidden away from prying eyes with the only sounds between them being the light scratching of her pencil on the paper and his soft purring as he rested his head against the back of her shoulder. His eyes opened the moment the pencil stopped making sound, but fluttered shut again when he realised she was just switching it for an ink pen and an eraser.

"What do you think?" she asked after a little while, causing him to open his eyes again as she held the clipboard up for him to easily see what she had been working on, "and... be honest. Because I don't think I got it quite right."

"It's me," he said with a little grin, "it looks great, Süßer. As long as people can tell what it's supposed to be, you're doing great. How long have you been drawing for?"

"About a decade, on and off. Kind of wish I was further along than I am, but... I'm not doing this for competition or as work; it's just the best way to get out of my head."

Setting the clipboard aside, she stirred in his arms. He released his grip so she could adjust and change how she wanted, to which she turned to her side and rested her head to his chest with a slight calm sigh. He looked up for a moment when he thought he heard a sound, but there wasn't anyone else in the library currently.

Made sense, most of the people in the mansion were occupied with other things. The only one he could feasibly imagine entering anytime soon was Hank, and if that did happen Kurt doubted Hank would care to notice they were there; Beast was often far too wrapped up in his work and study to really pay mind to his surroundings.

"You've... got anywhere to be?"

"Nowhere I'd rather be, if thats what you're asking. Rogue is reporting our mission findings to Scott, she doesn't need my help with that. She told me so herself, that it would be fine and that I should just get some rest."

And he wasn't the only one in need of some rest it seemed. Whether it was from the comfort of his embrace, that she hadn't slept enough last night, or a bit of both; she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Readjusting his arms around her to a comfortable easy grip, Kurt gently ran his hand over her arm to soothe her further.

"And it seems like I'm not the only one," he laughed as she yawned almost on cue. She hummed softly in agreement, shutting her eyes not so much to truly fall asleep as to just rest her mind and body a little.

The door to the library was opened, glowing yellow eyes immediately looking over as Kurt was ready to get them both out of there depending on who was entering- his alert instantly subsiding as Hank came in. Kurt's gaze just followed as Hank wandered in, muttering something to himself that Kurt couldn't quite make out; and if he did it all had to do with medical science above his level of understanding. Hank grabbed a couple of books, debating to himself for a moment which one he actually needed, before putting one back and opening the other. While reading it semi aloud to himself, he walked back out, all without acknowledging the presence of the other two mutants in there even once.

"Who was that?" Miranda softly asked.

"Hank. I don't think he noticed us. Well. I think he knows we're here, I'm half convinced he depends on his scent more than he claims to. But there's a difference between knowing we're here and seeing what we're up to. We're fine."

And with that, he settled into the embrace himself. Closing his eyes for some rest himself, his ears remained sharp to listen for anyone else. And as soon as he heard the doorknob to the room turn in a different way, with way less weight behind it than Hank used, he reached out to grab the clipboard, taking it and her last drawing along as he teleported both of them out of the library and into his room. He placed her on the bed before going back the same way he came, moving around the library as if that had been what he was doing the whole time; easy to pretend he was just poofing around the room to find a specific book until he deliberately showed up next to Shadow.

"Gutentag. Fancy seeing you in the library. Looking for anything in particular?"

She just looked at him, one eyebrow half raised at his question.

"You don't seem like the librarian in here, Kurt," she said, shaking the book she was looking for as she had already found it by herself, "I've got it covered, it's fine."

She watched as he grabbed himself a couple of fiction books and took a spot at one of the tables around the place, opening one. And for a moment, she almost bought it; but for a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on it seemed a little too staged.

"Why are you actually here?"

"Why's anyone in a library, Fraulein? I've been here since I got back from the mission."

"The mission with Rogue? Who's been in Scott's office for what, ten, maybe twenty minutes? And you've just now decided which books to grab to read while being here all by yourself?" but the thing was, she had little to disprove his claim, something she was all the more aware of when yellow eyes slowly turned her way.

"Well, what do you suggest I was up to in here before you got here?"

"... I don't know. This library is big enough to hide away in."

A slight tension lingered in the silence between them, as both stared at each other for what felt like minutes on end, but in reality was only a couple of seconds.

"If you must know, I finished the last few pages of a book before you got here. Better to wrap up what you started than start something new with ten pages to the finish line."

She had no reason not to believe him, other than the feeling in her gut that he somehow wasn't telling her the truth. Then again, Shadow had little grounds to stand on when it came to honestly admitting to who she was spending most of her time with, so even if Kurt's claims fell off and she could probably needle him with the fact that his own faith condemned lying...

Bit hypocritical from someone who wouldn't admit it either had she and Gambit been up to something around here. Blue eyes observed Kurt for a moment longer, and she knew she didn't have any evidence that Miranda had been here.

"... Enjoy your books, I have to get back to the lab," she concluded, leaving the library. As soon as she shut the door behind her, Kurt let out a relieved sigh. He waited a little while longer before setting most of the books back where he found them, and teleporting back to his room with a singular one. He settled onto the bed, close enough to a sleeping Miranda that they were slightly in contact, before opening the book back up and returning to the point he had stopped at before.

[bittcnneck]

Because my carrd does not look good on computer and I can't edit it, I decided to move it over to a regular Tumblr post.

About Me

Hello! My name is Pucca. I'm a 27 year old semi-literate roleplayer. I go by all the pronouns, but I would appriciate if you used she-her. Doesn't matter, though. I have 6 years of roleplay experience. English is not my first language, so bare with me please!

FNF MUSES:

Pico

Gf (Cherry)

Bf (Keith)

Sarvante

Ruv

Garcello

Mommy dearest

Daddy dearest

Tankman

Senpai

ENCANTO MUSES:

Isabela

Camilo

Mirabel

Julieta

Antonio

OBEY ME! MUSES:

Lucifer

Diavolo

Asmodeus

Yuki (MC)

SCP MUSES:

Scp 049

Scp 035

Scp 999

Scp 079

Scp 2599

HAZBIN HOTEL MUSES:

Charlie Morningstar

Carmilla Carmine

Emily

Lucifer Morningstar

Rosie

Lilith (testing)

YANDERE SIMULATOR MUSES:

Kokona Haruka

Amai Odayaka

Musume Ronshaku

SPIDERMAN MUSES:

Miles Morales

Hobie Brown

OTHER MUSES:

DETROIT BECOME HUMAN MUSES:

Connor

Markus

Chloe

Francis mosses, the milkman (that's not my neighbor) he has an ask blog, @ask-themilkman ! Please follow!

Louis (uglydolls)

Salad fingers

Rae Kim (but you seem fine)

Fade (valorant)

Lacey (Lacey's flash games) (HH AU)

Ali Abdul (Squid Game)

Jumin Han (Mystic Messanger)

Alexander Hamilton (note; this muse will not be roleplayed in this blog. He has his own blog, @alexanderhamilton-official . If you're interested, please consider following it!)

Ayane shiun (porkchop 'n flatscreen)

OCS:

Kiera (SCP OC)

Akihiko (ALPHA MAFIA OC, no fandom)

Len (OMEGA OC, no fandom)

Amelia (CATGIRL OC, no fandom)

Markus Miller (papers please inspector oc)

Iriana (p⭐ oc) has a blog, @rcbbitpure , please follow 💗

RULES:

- if you have a password, I'll only send it in after we become mutuals to make sure you are interested in rping with me, so I don't just send the password while I only follow you 😅 but be sure that I do read the rules.

- I don't drop threads unless it's obvious that it's finished! Don't worry. If I'm not feeling a thread, I will let you know. I hate waiting for so long to just learn that it's not gonna be answered, it's a little annoying and I wish to be told sooner, so I do that. If I don't reply within a week I most likely forgot, so feel free to remind me! I am pretty active, so I will not be upset. In worst case, I'm not feeling it at the moment but that does not mean I dropped it! If I decide to drop it, I'll tell you!

- please do not reblog my open starters if we're not mutuals. You can like, I don't mind.

- I sadly have no bios up for all of my OCS yet, but I plan on making them very soon! If you are interested though please let me know. Also, I love OCS! So please feel free to send me asks by yours!

- personals, You can follow, I do not block, but I am not interested in rping with you, sorry. You can send anons and like my posts though!

- if I'm interacting with a person involved in drama, feel free to reach out to me with proofs! Because I probably didn't know. Please, do not block me because I'm interacting with someone problematic. I mean of course I can't tell you to not block me or not but I mean, if that is your ONLY reason. Please message. Make sure if I know or don't know the shit they did. If they are problematic I most likely will not interact with them.

- I don't do passwords, but you can let me know you read them by telling me if you are ok with pet names or not! I'm big on pet names, I often call people dear, honey, sweetie, babe. If you message me saying I'm good with them or not, this will let me know you read my rules AND let's me make sure I don't cross boundaries if you prefer not to be called pet names!

- no minors. This blog will cover triggering themes. Nsfw will be present. And although everything gets tagged accordingly, I don't want to open that scene to minors. So please even if you follow me, don't interact with me.

- rest are easy, do not follow if you are racist, homophobic, pedophile, a piece of shit basically.

Looking forward to interacting with all of you!

[ninamodaffari]

Do you have any tips, do's and dont's for entry-level resumes?

Hello there my friend, thank you for the question!

First off, I have a link to a great resource, Alex Jackson, who has answered this question far better than I can (I still have some advice though). You can see her thread here, but I'm going to cite some main examples.

Most likely software is going to be reading your resume, so keep it safe and simple, not too over-designed.

Use the keywords in the job listing to write the bullet-points in your resume. For example, if the listing says they are looking for a 'driven self-starter', then you can put something along those lines on the resume, that you adapted to different styles, started projects of your own, etc.

You can always have different copies of your resume for different jobs.

Make sure your portfolio and email are clickable links. Make it as easy as possible for the recruiter to see your work and contact you.

Don't do the skill rating thing anymore (you used to see it with people doing 3/5 stars, giving themselves stat points, just don't do that, recruiters might find it annoying).

"Keep graphics out of your resume, with possible exception of a logo. A little bit of creativity there is fine, just make sure your name is in text form. The software can’t read images, you want as much in text as possible. Also don’t put your portrait, please." A reason Alex says that is to eliminate any unconscious bias that the recruiter might have, as sad as it may seem. Better safe than sorry. :(

Even if you haven't touched the software they listed, apply anyways. If you do get a reply back, you can always learn via quick tutorial, watch a few videos, etc. For EA, Maya was listed as a heavily recommended software. I had no fucking clue how to use it, but figured it out watching a video enough to do my work.

You don't really want to do two-stack resumes anymore, make it one stack and try and keep it to one page. As always, this is just my advice that was given to me from incredible resources like Alex's, and advice from my many friends in the industry and experiences that I myself have had. Things are always changing in this sphere though, so a piece of advice I have now might be something someone disagrees with later. I hope this helps, in any regard!

--Nina/Rhys

[undefeatedlegend]

┌──═━ Rule Book ━═──┐

Just a few notes on my RP rules.

01. Flexible. 

✧ First off, I’m willing to rp with anyone from any fandom and even OCs. Concerning plots, we can always work something out and see what happens next. I’m pretty flexible with ideas so I can rp anything. 

✧ I RP canon/au/crossovers…even crack just for the hell of it. Whatever as long as it's fun.

02. Shipping. 

✧ I am willing to be multishipping with anyone, I guess it depends on how the chemistry is between our characters. Who knows if it’ll work out.

3. NSFW.

✧ NSFW, I’m willing to do this as well but please it has to be 18 and over, Mun is over 18. No exceptions.  

✧ NSFW threads will be either under Read More or not, it all depends on my rp partner. And they will be tagged accordingly, #;; nsfw #;; nsfw-ish.

THERE WILL BE TRIGGER WARNING ON EVERY TAGS I MAKE WITH JAEKYUNG WHEN ITS NEEDED. As we know, the manhwa is graphic. I would like to express that despite how I am portraying this character, I will portray him as in the manhwa, he is rude and brutal.

4. Godmoding. 

✧ No Godmoding, which is obvious. So please do not do that.

05. Threads. 

✧ If I do forget a thread, please let me know since I tend to be busy with work and real life. But don't mention it every 10 minutes. It just gets annoying and makes me think of not responding. Not to be a pain but I want to be considerate.

06. Hate. 

✧ I will not and refuse to tolerate hate that is sent to me. So don’t bother because I’ll block you on sight. Do not send any kind of hate to anyone. I know a lot of people may not like this character so please be respectful and do not send me hate messages. I will just ignore and click delete, so please don't bother.

07. Asks. 

✧ My inbox is open 24/7. Anons are welcome, same for any random asks from any of my followers. I enjoy talking OOC as well so please feel free to ask me anything! And don't be afraid to approach me!

08. Followers. 

✧ New follow starters are not written (it's because I suck at coming up with starters ;3;) but feel free to tag me if you have one! But if I do feel inspired to send you one, I will tag you, and it's up to you if you want to reply or not. If you don't, no hard feelings!

09. Disclaimer. 

✧ Disclaimer: I do not own any of the series that my muses are in, they belong to their respectful owners. I will add more information as I continue to work on this blog.

10. Muse =/= Mun. 

✧I do not condone what my muse does, or say. I have a muse who could do terrible things and in many people's eyes, is a complete jerk. I do agree with most of the things he has done, but I believe in my heart as the manhwa progresses, I think Jaekyung will come around and be a better person. The manwha is not completed yet so who knows what will happen in the future.

However, I don’t condone his behavior or his words when he hurts others. Just because I write it doesn’t mean I condone such a thing.

11. Icons. ✧ Icon template by @jessource Icons are made, cleaned, and edited by me so please…don’t steal. Fanart, gifs are not mine, and if I have the source for them, I will make sure to post it. But if I can’t find them, I will let you all know and I would appreciate it if you help me in finding them. If the creator doesn’t want me to use them, then I will immediately apologize and take them down.

12. Jaekyung face claim: Park Seo Joon (ex. THE DIVINE FURY in 2019)

Mun.

✧Hello, My name is Bernice, but you can call me B. I have been rping for almost 15+ years under different platforms, 7 of which are on Tumblr. Mun is 35+ and has a busy life. I tend to disappear randomly due to it. So please forgive me as I do that.

I also have two other blogs, @swimmingforthegold & @changeandmovingon

✧ Well that’s all, thank you for reading and thank you for following me. Hope to rp with you all soon. :3

[futureh0g]

RULES/ABOUT BELOW. DO NOT REBLOG

1- Although I may be selective with following, anybody is free to send in a starter for a rp, so don't be shy!!

2- I will not interacting with any NSFW blogs, and any NSFW will not interacting with me. The main reason is because I am under the age of 18, so, if you don't want me interacting with you, feel free to block me.

3- Anybody over 18 is able to follow!! But if your rules state that you don't want any minors interacting with you, I won't follow back.

4- Sexual content, such as smut, will not be present. Inappropriate jokes are fine, just don't over-do it.

5- I have not been roleplaying for that long, and I don't have that much experience, so I will most likely make a few mistakes here and there. Please be patient with me.

6- I am extremely shy, so about most of the time, I will not follow first, or send any asks most of the time. Please don't take this the wrong way. I just have a hard time interacting with a lot of people

7- Do NOT GodMod. A.K.A, taking control of a muse that isn't your own. It's very annoying to me when people do this.

8- If you follow me, and I don't immediately follow back on my main, please don't take this the wrong way!! It just takes a lot of courage for me to follow someone new back for some reason :')

9- Personals are able to follow and like posts, but, please. Unless you have any rp side blogs, do not reblog or reply to any posts. This is not a Fandom blog

10- Every blog I have are multi-ship. I will have separate verses for every ship on a blog. Although, please talk to me if you want to ship one of my muses with your own

11- this blog is OC and Crossover friendly!! I love roleplaying with OCs and crossovers, SM FUN

12- Don't pressure me to do or continue roleplays. Please just. Don't

Ty for reading through !! More rules will be applied the more the blog goes on. Information for this version of Sonic, Shadow, and Fleetway will be listed below!! It is not mandatory to read, but it is suggested if you want to get a better understanding of them!!

ABOUT

Sonic is always seen as an adventurer, and he still is! Just a bit older now, but still energetic as ever! And by old, I mean 2000 years old. You might be wondering, HOW is Sonic even this old? Well, the amount of times he has used the chaos Emeralds in his life plays a big part for this! As the chaos energy infused in him, it gave him an enhanced body, along with a longer lifespan, and greater strength!

Speaking of strength, you might be wondering how strong Sonic actually is in the au! Well, to make it simple, he's as strong as he was in his super form when he was a teen, perhaps even stronger! He has great durability, and most likely able to one punch a motherfucker into space. He is able to kill a god without going super. Because of his out of control power, he is required to wear inhibitor rings around his arms.

Speaking of his power, Sonic is capable of killing a villain! And..has done it before. (Eggman). He has learned that just speaking to a villain and giving them a few encouraging words won't ever actually make them change if they're bad enough. So, he decided to just get rid of them! He's the definition of "Fuck around and find out". Don't be scared, as long as you aren't an irredeemable villain, you'll be unharmed.

As Sonic outlived all of his own friends, he has a LOT of more responsibilities, one of these being the new guardian of the Master Emerald, having a small cottage built on Angel Island to live in. He still adventures all the time, he just thinks of protecting the emerald as a small job for himself.

The only ones to keep Sonic company are Shadow, and redeemed villains, like Fleetway, Metal and Scourge.

Sonic is the one to make dad jokes a lot, and he is a great father figure to a lot of people. In fact, he adopted Silver in the future! How? Well, very simple. He found Silver in a cardboard box when he was a kid, said "hell no", picked Silver up, and the rest is history. Sonic is also a very wise person, having huge amounts of information crammed into his head! I mean, he was around for 2000 years. So, it makes sense.

He also carries Miles' Electric around with him at all times, somehow not damaging it.

Not much is known about Fleetway. All is said is that he managed to get himself redeemed a couple decades ago, starting a new life for himself.

He has his own separate body from Sonic now. Again, not much is actually known on how this happened, but all that can be said is that one time when Sonic was attempted to have his immense chaos powers ripped away from him, Fleetway managed to save Sonic from getting his powers removed, at the cost of almost losing his own life.

Without a proper host to contain himself in, Fleetway is more weak than he normally was, seen to be using a cane most of the time to help himself walk. Though, this doesn't mean he can't kill someone.

He's still a sassy bastard, just leaning more on the calm side. He also owns a coffee shop just to keep himself occupied, and let me say, this guy makes a mean coffee.

Shadow is..more or less the same. Moody, closed off, the usual. Really all that's changed is his appearance. And the extent of his powers.

After an unknown fight from a long while back, Shadow lost sight in his right eye, a large scar across his eye. He wears a visor to help his sight. It isn't perfect, but it gets the job done.

Shadow's powers have exceeded over the years, no surprise there. He knows how to control it easily, so nobody has gotten seriously hurt from his powers. Yet.

He also has quite the variety of weapons by his side. He carries a belt around his waist, that are able to hold about 4 guns at once. He also has very long gloves, which lets him hide blades under his gloves, just for any extra weapons.

[xxlordalexanderxx]

Get to know the author!

name: Jessica or Slurku

pronouns: She/Her

preference of communication: Either here via IM or Discord. I don't like to give out my discord freely, if you really want it, ask.

most active muse: Alexander and Cromwell. Don't got time for anyone else atm.

experience / how many years: Been RPing since March 7th 2006 for nearly 17 years now ( I have that kind of memory) I got my start on Gaiaonline did a lot of anime RPs like Inuyasha and Full Metal Alchemist and Naruto and Pokemon and I'm not fucking proud of how I used to write shit either. I would take a 3-4yr break before coming back to RP on tumblr where I was in the Wreck it Ralph fandom from 2012-2018. I would occasionally RP on skype when that was relevant as well. I had a few RPs in dA notes for some reason but that didn't last long.

platforms you use: tumblr, not interested in RPing in discord or anywhere else.

best experience: When I first debuted my evil ( or more evil and animalistic) King Candy Cybug and freaked a bunch of people out, that was funny as hell.

rp pet peeves: Being rushed for anything ever. This is my hobby and you are not paying me, do not ever rush me for anything even if you are nice about it. Because regardless of how nice your are I can still see that you are being impatient with me. I am a person with a life and health issues who also takes care of a parent with no kidneys.

Too many fight RPs scare me, I get skeeved out because I had a horrible fucking time after a while in the WiR fandom. Just constant fight and big-dick muse measuring is annoying. Anyone can make their muse god.

This isn't to say I won't do them, there has to be reason for it. Alexander looking to hunt someone but said quarry decides to fight back is more than welcomed.

Not being able to land hits on muses when fighting and taking all the hits sucks and I will write myself out of said fight because at the point things get boring. Fighting is give and take. Alexander is tanky and I will write him as such but he can be hurt too.

Lore breaking is pretty upsetting to me.

People who don't readmore super long replies. There's really no excuse not to do it, you can do it on mobile even so...

Making starters for people who never answer them. I will not do so again but you are free to throw one my way.

Relentlessly and constantly, and I mean over staying your welcome with annoying my muse get's tiring at some point. I do have fun with Alex getting irritated but if it's just all the fucking time I get a little irked myself. I know it's fun to poke at the big bad scary monster man but my brain starts to hurt piloting this big bitch of a man at some point, please chill sometimes.

fluff, angst, or smut: All are good in moderation.

plots or memes: I don't mind either or.

long or short replies: For plots, medium to long as long as things are formatted to not clog the dash. I don't mind short replies but only if muses are just shooting the shit. I'm not a fan of one-liners for plots.

best time to write: When I'm well rested, fed, showered, properly medicated, hydrated, caffeinated, and gotten my irl stuff taken care of and whenever I feel like it.

are you like your muse(s): Sometimes. In a more milder sense I'm not trying to eat people I'm a lot nicer than he is but I don't take any shit either.

tagged by: Stolen from @cflight

tagging: God

[shiny-jr]

Been playing the recent Pokemon game (i got violet because Ceruledge grabbed me by the throat), how is ur experience with the new game? Whaddya think of it??

- big hat anon, actively trying to avoid Nemona

Oh god, here we go. Very long reply of my personal thoughts. Remember, these are just my personal opinions and I tend to be a heavy critic. Also, spoilers ahead if you haven't finished the game.

Where do I even begin? First off, this gen's starters were kinda trash. Not as bad as last gen, this gen was actually cute in the beginning but the designs for their last stage evolutions are kinda horrid. I picked the duck, purely so I could name him Quatrina and teach him Hurricane. I originally wanted to go with Sprigatito, but then he stood up on two legs and I was out.

Secondly, my team changed a lot but three remained on there the entire time. Quatrina, a Charcadet I named Charla, and a Fidough I named Conchas. Charla and Conchas? Carried.

Thirdly, I did the order of the story routes kinda weird.

First I did the Team Star route just because I wanted to see the "villains." And let me say, I'm glad they're actually kinda good. Like, maybe they're not as great as Team Skull, but they aren't horrible like Team Yell. The leaders of Team Star are actually interesting, and I wish we saw more of them. In my opinion, I thought they were actually more difficult than the gym leaders. Anyways, they're fun. Penny is a decent character too. I predicted she was the main boss literally before I even raided the first base. Also Clive? He's such a caring headmaster? Love that?? And how he went out of his way to try and understand the troubled students.

Second I did the Victory Road route. I wanted to do that last but it got to the point where became overpowered while playing the Star route and I had no gym badges yet, so new high level pokemon I had would not listen. Which got annoying because my main three: Quatrina, Charla, and Conchas were all higher leveled but they still listened. Anyways, I wanted to like Nemona, and I tried, I really did, but she got on my nerves so bad. She is one of the worst rivals by far. All she cared about was battles. Battles this battles that. That's literally all she ever talks about, its her whole personality, and it got so annoying. Especially because after the Star route, since I was so overleveled and the gyms don't change their levels no matter where you are, I breezed through all eight gyms within a few hours. The Elite Four was too easy, and so was the Champion, and so was Nemona. Actually, the only one that gave me trouble was Mr. Hassel, the fourth Elite Four. He was stronger than the Champion and Nemona. But I still breezed through that too. Anyways, not a fan of Nemona.

And last, I did the titan route. Arven? He is the GOAT. I love him so much, and he had such an interesting story. At first I didn't like him, I kinda thought he was a jerk, but then you learn his backstory and I fell hard. A guy with fluffy hair, Mommy/Daddy issues, cooks for you, and will fight off titans to heal his childhood pet? Sign me the fuck up. He is borderline himbo and I am so here for it. He is my favorite rival in this game by far, and probably one of my favorites of the whole Pokemon series. 10/10. Anyways, the titans were easy too. I usually one shot them most of the time, lol.

Finally, the end story, which I completed literally less than an hour ago. My theory is the crater was made by the same blast thousands of years ago mentioned in X and Y. If you know, you know. Kalos DLC, maybe??? Please?? Okay, so I have Violet meaning I got Professor Turo. When he only showed up during the last route with Arven, I knew it was super suspicious. Like he was absent almost the entire game, and now he wants us to travel to the crater? Red flag. Literally once I entered the cater and heard that beautiful but sorta eerie music, I thought to myself, "watch him be the bad guy." And guess what? I was right, he ended up being the bad guy. Although the whole AI thing and him actually being dead was not what I expected, but it was super interesting when his AI decided to destroy the time machine by going to the future that Turo obsessed over. Still, Turo really was a shit dad for spending his days on a time machine he knew could cause more harm than good and kinda just pushing his son off to the side. Arven deserved so much better. Also, Penny and Arven had a lot of good banter during this but I feel like they tried to make Nemona the peace between the two but she was just more annoying, at least to me. The way I got mad when I would say no to something and she would insist, pretty much giving you no actual choice.

That's all I can think of right now.

[threeclovers]

to let me know you've read these, please like the post! thank you :D

i do not interact with doubles! i am very picky with who i follow and interact with. i'm a selective blog, and i prefer to stick within the fandom--i'll interact with muses from other fandoms if they have a lackadaisy verse, though! and i am oc friendly :]

shipping's allowed! nothing gross--no absurdly large age gaps or anything like freckle/rocky--they're cousins. get that shit outta here. i'm partial to freckle and ivy's relationship, but i can write based on chemistry with other characters or even ocs. feel free to reach out about it!

nsfw policy. i'm 18+, but not interested in writing sexual nsfw content. please do not ask me to, i will say no and, if you try to push the matter, i will likely block you. i'm alright with suggestive jokes and violent nsfw, but nothing sexual!

formatting & reply length. don't feel pressured to go ham on your responses--i'll do my best to match your replies, but sometimes i might get a bit out of hand and write... um, a lot. i don't judge based on post formatting! do whatever is most comfortable for you. i format with small text, so let me know if you need that changed for accessibility.

content warnings. lackadaisy as a source material contains some disturbing content. guns, gun violence, blood, swearing, mental health issues, physical injury, and talk of religion & struggles with religious beliefs will be present on this blog! let me know if you need anything tagged--i'm more than willing to do so!

ask memes & starters. every ask meme i reblog will always be accepted. spam my inbox. i love it when people do that. that being said, due to this, i am more likely to disregard asks that i'm not interested in writing responses or starters for. send as many asks as you want--i try to answer as many as i can!

be nice. i mean it's kind of self-explanatory. be nice! no homophobia, racism, ableism, etc. i am very free with my blocking and unfollowing. if you're mean, rude, discriminatory, annoying, an asshole--you will be blocked! practice kindness on the internet motherfuckers. we're here for a good time not to be bitches to each other. with that being said, you totally have the right to unfollow or block me as you see fit. don't vibe with my writing? don't vibe with me personally? that's fine man. you don't gotta explain anything. have a good one i'm glad you're curating your online experience :]

drama policy. i will not get involved with drama, period. do not send me asks about other roleplayers or message me about any interpersonal drama going on in the community. i am here to write and have fun. if i really need to know something, i will review the facts and make my own judgements based on what i see. i'm here to write mafia cats. not to publicly execute a tumblr user.

have fun!!!! have fun writing motherfucker!!! feel free to message me or ask for my discord, anything!! i love chatting with writing partners ooc, plotting and stuff like that!!

thanks for reading!!

[applctini]

RULES &&. GUIDES

GENERAL

i am a pretty flexible partner, but i can also be equally as slow when it comes to replying. i work anywhere from 32-42+ hours a week, this is a hobby not my life. as much as i respect your time in replying, please respect mine. never assume i've forgotten about a thread, because i promise you i haven't - i'm just a slow sloth.

i do not mind slight godmodding, as the characters of the hazbin/helluva verse are immortal, deities, creatures, etc. of supernatural origins. powers, strength, magic, voodoo, religion, all of it is bound to come into play one way or another. lucifer himself is an insanely strong being - he just doesn't use his power very often. the only thing that bugs me is others assuming what goes on in lucifer's head. the old cuck doesn't even know what's going in his brain except monkey banging cymbals.

no anon hate, i think that?? goes without saying lmao. it'll be deleted immediately. you can bully lucifer as much as you want, but i'm not tolerating that nonsense thank you.

YES !! those starter calls are for you baby! i want to interact with you. YES !! those memes i reblog everyday are for you !! i want you to pester me, lucifer, i adore having a full inbox because memes and asks are the BEST way to get my attention. you thinking you're not sure if it's for you? send in your own asks !! unprompted shit is my FAVORITE thing to see pop up on my phone as a notification. do it, bug me!! i'm not that scary, i am probably the biggest baby you'd ever meet tbh.

my icons are edited for me and me only, please do not take them, but i am more willing to share where i got the bases from so you can have your own !!

FOLLOWING

tbh i don't always look at my followers, i've been on this website since i was a kid. however that doesn't mean i'm not gonna follow you back. i mentioned i was slow, right? yeah, that - at most it takes me 2-5 days to follow back unless for some odd reason i really didn't see your follow. tumblr loves not notifying me anyways, so just keep that in mind !!

this is a roleplay blog. i will not interact with personals and i hope you respect that to not interact/reblog my posts. i won't block you so long as you respect this one thing i ask of. you're welcome to follow, read my things, but do not reblog anything from me that comes from me.

i don't do the whole follow-for-follow. that always annoyed me, it still does. i don't get it... just, no lmao. if i follow you, i wanna follow you. i wanna interact with you, not to just be a number.

OC's should NEVER feel discouraged with me !! my main multi is mostly oc's, i live off of oc's. i love them. i only ask that there's a base page where i can receive some sort of information on them - it doesn't have to be elaborate, but i wanna know them !!

TRIGGERS &&. NSFW

this blog will be heavy with mental health topics. it'll contain depression, panic disorders, anxiety, ptsd, thoughts of self harm, acts of self harm, martyr complex, and much more. if you are sensitive to these topics or anything you think might lead to these topics, please turn around and do not follow me. i tag everything, but this will be a big chunk of my blog regarding headcanons, certain threads, etc.

i adore writing smut, any forms of it, but i don't write it with strangers. it often comes with just shipping with me, which we'll talk about below. however, if we share a ship (or more !!) i don't mind writing it with you, any form, or at any time. i love the intimacy (or even lack there of oops-) when it comes to sharing a body with someone.

MULTISHIP YAY OR NAY?

YAY!! I am multiship*, i will gladly toss this clown around to anyone like the switch he is lmao.

i love ships, but i also ship with chemistry. i don't like forcing myself to fall for a ship that doesn't hit me and i wouldn't want to do that to a partner either !! it's easy to be a people pleaser on this site, but don't be afraid to tell me if something isn't working for you, i don't take any offense to it. we're all adults here, we can talk like them with our big words.

*i will mention more about my shipping in this post.

WRITING

i write typically from para to novella, occasional crackhead behavior here and there with one-liners. my asks usually wind up on the longer side falling into drabble territory because i love setting a scene, describing such little details that it's probably annoying lmao. you don't have to match me word-for-word, but i would appreciate if length was kept to similar status.

WHAT ABOUT YOU?

me? i'm star, i'm 24 turning 25 currently. i work in retail, like i said i can be very busy during my workdays and may not always be available here. if you have my discord, don't feel discouraged to message me there, or even here if you don't. i will always try to make time between watching my department to reply to you. i'm often closing on my shifts, so usually by the end of the night i'm more eager to reply and like a chirping bird most nights. i'm under EDT currently (UTC -4H) so you can gauge my days.

[thexplayground]

based off this story [18+only] - could be something he put in her drink or hypnosis or whatever [also... I love the idea of this drug/hypnosis causing her to cum every time he slaps her face - which is from another story. I just need some more face slapping lol] - sorry for the slight godmoding - if it doesn’t suit you, we can adjust for sure

Muses: any

The last thing she remembered was going out to dinner with him, chatting, eating, having a couple drinks... then it got a little fuzzy. They’d flirted, even a little teasing, at least, she thought she remembered that much. Now, though, here they were, in some room she didn’t recognize that nearly looked like some kind of sex toy shop with all the items around. She was wearing something different, something slutty - a very short skirt, thigh highs, and nothing else. He’d just torn the little top off her, tits still bouncing. Between her teeth was a rubber toy - a bone, and as much as she considered spitting it out, she couldn’t. Pieces flickered into her mind, vaguely recalling how he’d embarrassed her earlier in the night, patting her head, talking down to her, being demeaning... and how she couldn’t do anything but giggle. It was like she was locked inside herself, in a sense. Try as she might to do something else, she couldn’t fight it. He’d told her to shut up, stuffing this toy into her mouth, telling her not to drop it. Whatever command he gave her, she couldn’t disobey it. It was like something happened to her forcing her to obey. Eyes fluttered up as he told her she was nothing more than a stupid, brainless cunt - and somehow that made her pussy drip with need, it made her whimper. Moan if you want me to treat you like the stupid slut you are, she heard him but couldn’t see him now. Fight as she did, she couldn’t stop herself from moaning... having no idea what he was going to do next.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 12

the Darkling x Reader

The hour was late as the stars basked in the darkness and cold winter air. The fire roared in its hearth while your still steaming cup of sleep-aiding tea sat untouched on the small table. Your talk with Alina earlier was the cause of your unrest. You didn't know whether to feel sorry for her or be frustrated with her. She is a lovely girl, most pure and kind and quite literally the definition of sunshine, but something about her irked you and you hated it.

Maybe it was her somewhat unhealthy obsession with her friend, the tracker- Malyen Oretsev, or the sheer denial and lack of understanding of her position. Sure, Mal was the only thing that tied her to her old life, a sense of home, but he didn't belong anywhere near the Little Palace and posed a threat to Alina's true potential. She should understand that, no doubt it's been explained to her many times. She was no longer a random girl from the First Army or a Child of Keramzin, she was the Sun-Summoner and had to act the part.

But there was also a nagging feeling in you since your last words with Aleksander, the ones about the stag. From what you could gather, Alina definitely wasn't power-hungry, not yet anyway, and placing an antler anywhere on her would be against her wishes. You knew deep down that whatever he had planned would go far beyond just giving her an amplifier for her sake.

You sighed and moved around on the armchair again, trying to convince yourself those were the reasons you couldn't sleep, that Alina's position in this mess was why your mind wouldn't shut off, but who were you kidding, it was her and him. For starters, she called Aleksander by his name. The second the word left her mouth, your blood ran cold.

__

'Is he not here?' Alina looked to you from over her mug, eyes scanning the room.

'Who?'

'Aleksander, is he away at Kribirsk again?' Your smile faltered and your grip on your own mug loosened. But Alina waited for an answer.

'Oh umm, I don't know.' You did but the shock caused your mind to blank completely.

__

You had known Aleksander for years before he even told you his true name, you had to earn it. She spoke of her General with a fondness, at one point even speaking of him as if he were more than just her commanding officer.

__

'Do you miss the First Army Alina? I know you left friends behind, not just Mr.Oretsev.'

'I suppose I don't feel at home just yet, it's a lot to take in, this whole division of orders thing doesn't help either... But he assures me I am not alone, that I have an equal in the Palace.'

An equal?

__

The heat of the fire was doing nothing to calm down your rising rage. Apparently Aleksander was doing more talking with Alina than you'd thought, even sacrificing his own true name, one only spoken by you and his mother, for her to utter as if it was just another name. So what if you were in his chambers, making use of his office and sleeping in his bed, he clearly had his eyes on two prizes or maybe just one.

You felt sick now, be it from the heat or the anger, you got up and opened a window. The cold and dark night was a stark contrast to the licks of the flame. It made you feel at peace, but only momentarily. You heard voices outside, slowly growing louder. You rested your head against the wall, begging for one last moment of stillness, but alas the door was yanked open and his boots echoed throughout the room. You cursed yourself for deciding to spend another night in his quarters. You thought he'd be gone longer than just 4 days.

'I do hope you made yourself comfortable' His voice was as smooth as the kvas you had downed after Alina left. You wanted to turn around, but the anger was still there and all hell would break loose if you let your emotions run wild again.

'I did thank you. At least you have a desk'

'I'll get you one first thing in the morning'

'No need, I already requested one' Your voice was void of any emotion. Don't start a fight.

'Are you alright?'

'Just tired, being diplomatic is hard work' It sure was right now.

'Might I suggest actually getting into bed then?' His hand slowly came around your wrist and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom but ironically at the simple touch, your anger grew, when it usually has the opposite effect. You saw out of the corner of your eye that he had a genuine smile on his face, one that tended to make you melt but not now. You shrugged him off and walked in the direction of the door, leaving him utterly confused.

'Y/N what's going on.

'I'm tired, I'm going to bed' You tried so hard to act normal, not in any way pissed.

'Y/N look at me'

'Goodnight Aleksander' You couldn't help it, the mockery of his name just came out. There goes the diplomacy.

You heard him quickly walk towards you and tried to get to the door first to escape the tense atmosphere you created but he got there first, blocking your way.

'What?' You threw your hands up in exasperation not yet looking at him.

'Did something happen whilst I was away?'

'No'

'Then what is it'

'Nothing'

'Don't lie to me Y/N'

'Oh but it's okay for you to lie to me' Your eyes finally bore into his.

'Excuse me?' His expression read baffled; annoyed; pissed.

'Move away from the door Aleksander'

'No! You're going to be mature and have an actual conversation with me for once' He asked for it.

'Alright fine, Let's start with Alina''

'Y/N'

'I had a lovely little tea party with her today. Sweet thing. She loves to talk once you get her going. She told me a lot of fascinating stuff, including your name! How interesting don't you think.' Your voice was so cold it even made you shiver.

'I can explain'

'I'm not finished.' You felt that pull in you, that pull that comes before you put your fire or shadows to use but crammed it down with all your might. 'Her best friend hasn't been replying to any of her letters and I can recount there are many of them. Guess what I found in one of your drawers? They are all very poetic don't you think? I'm all for helping her adjust, but that's not help, that's manipulation Aleksander.'

'She won't let him go, It's dragging her down.' He said through gritted teeth.

'Dragging her down or away?' The double meaning in your words didn't go unnoticed by him.

'Y/N all I want to do is go to bed right now, I've had a long day, please.' His hand reached out for yours but you scoffed and moved away.

'You wanted to have this conversation, General, don't shy away when your actions are questioned.'

'Fine' He unblocked the door and crossed the room, throwing his cloak and kefta on the floor with a heavy thud. 'Is there anything else you wish to accuse me of Y/N dearest?'

'Look at you, so bitter but I haven't heard you deny any of it'

'You may go now if you like.' He picked up a decanter of whiskey and poured himself a generous glass

'Since when are you this childish Aleksander. Have I missed something in my 100-year absence?' You mocked.

'You left me with all of this' He gestured to the palace. '-That's what happened.'

'Don't turn this around on me, and I told you that wasn't a choice.'

'The Y/N I knew would have come back and not hid like a coward'

You stilled and waited for any sign of apology, but it never came. He meant it even though he knew how much such a simple statement would hurt you. You turned slowly and walked to the door.

'While I'm gone, at least have the common decency to change the sheets before you bring Alina in here' you shut it loudly behind you and heard the breaking of the glass, no doubt thrown at the door as you were leaving.

What a day.

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

Ok so idk if people can see this but I posted this like a week ago and apparently nobody seen it so here it is!!!!

Part 13

Here's my masterlist!!

[curiousconch]

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 2)

Part 2: Before I dive right into you

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: In the aftermath of their pretend wedding in Las Vegas, Gabe begins to unravel his growing feelings for Alex. But as he attempts to bring his past to light, someone from Alex's previous life casts a shadow on the future.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 2.4k+ (sorry 🙈)

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / alcohol consumption, some swears

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogue belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

A little after 1 AM, Las Vegas

Gabe can't help but smirk at the look of mischief in Alex's eyes as they stood by a quiet spot in the middle of Las Vegas. With her in that glittery dress, he somehow can't bring himself to part from her yet.

He knew it wasn't only him who felt that tingling in his fingertips when he brushed her cheeks, her breath smelling strongly of martini. He was very aware that Alex felt the same when she stared back at him, standing at that cramped cheap chapel while an Elvis impersonator stood nearby. The moment she stepped away when he said that it's just all pretend made Gabe's heart ache with regret.

So here they were, standing awkwardly after he shot down her advances again.

But he was sure he didn't want the night to end here.

After calling for a car, he shoved his phone inside the pocket of his slacks and turned to Alex.

"I was serious when I said I wanted a celebratory drink," he glanced apologetically to his side where she stood. "Our hotel bar offers my favorite scotch."

Alex raised her head, smiling. "Knew you had it in you, Gabe."

A car ride and a couple of glasses of Lagavulin later, there they were, lounging on stools at their opulent hotel bar, warm lights and jazz music providing a backdrop on the casual atmosphere.

"And I could not believe the rat thing worked! Who would've known they kept a rat in there as a pet? Like really?" Alex raised her glass to her lips, as Gabe sat on the barstool beside her, cradling his own drink.

"Beginner's luck, I would believe," he chuckled in reply, leaning forward, tie loosened and his coat hanging at the back of his chair.

"I am so offended," Alex gasped as she shoved her hands flat on her chest in mock disbelief. "I'm not only the boring nerd when I was in high school, Gabe. I was that nerd who sang and dance at the drama club!"

Gabe shook his head, his lips pursing. "That makes so much damn sense, Alex." He took another swig of his third shot, fighting for dear life from laughing his heart out. Not wanting to give her that satisfaction, he threw a sarcastic dig at her remark. "That's so believable, seeing you could snatch an Oscar from Meryl Streep herself and the no one wouldn't even bat an eye."

"Ah, law was plan A, sir." she saluted, placing her empty glass on the bar counter. "Acting was a fallback in case it didn't pan out." she giggled.

Gabe grinned as he rolled up his sleeves, beckoning the bartender for another round. "You should have made it your plan A, seeing how you turned out," he teased, bringing up the fun bit they did to retrieve a copy of Lydia Rothswell's marriage certificate. The very same act that almost made Gabe kiss Alex in the middle of The Strip.

"Aww, Gabe, finally found a better lawyer than you? Feeling threatened yet?" Alex leaned in, snickering as their glasses were refilled. "Don't worry, I' ll settle for being a Junior Partner for now," she said as she reclined, before throwing in a playful wink.

"Well someone's head just became bigger," he gave her a smug look.

"Just trying to keep up with all the cockiness in the room," she smiled coyly, watching Gabe's stupefied expression. It was clear then that she scored a slam dunk at the championship of comebacks, laughing at his astonishment.

Gabe finally gave up, joining Alex in her laughter. As their joy receded, he let himself take in the sight of Alex without any inhibitions. What he was beginning to see was the extent of her wit, her ability to keep her cool, and the sharp humor that matched only his.

Under the warm light of the lounge, she brilliantly shone. He couldn't focus at what she was now saying as he danced at the appeal of them becoming more than colleagues. Perhaps he resisted his own feelings long enough that he was past the point of denial. Or simply because he was starting to get drunk.

Though before he can even begin to consider that, he was still sober enough to know that he first needed to tell her the truth.

The truth that sometime long ago, their paths have already crossed. And that he did something very horrible.

Call him cynical, but he wasn't kidding when he admitted he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy. And that meant laying down all his cards on the table. Because for him, Alex was more than the occasional one-night stand. And he can't be certain of how long he could keep himself from his budding feelings, all stakes be damned.

What better time to be honest when there was enough alcohol in his system to prevent all rational thinking? It's now or never, he figured.

"Alex, I -"

"Alessandra? Alessandra Keating?" a deep voice came from behind him, interrupting Gabe. He cocked his head to get a clearer view, as a man with slicked back blonde hair approached from a private booth nearby.

Without hesitation, the tall stranger in the dark suit stepped forward, his striking features Gabe would have easily recognized anywhere. That face was almost in every blockbuster movie in the last five years.

"Julian? What are you doing here?" Alex asked, as abashed as he was. Gabe saw how she clammed up the very second she recognized the man.

"Oh my, it really is you!" the man stopped beside Alex's bar stool, welcoming himself to their company. The way he was looking up and down at her made Gabe's jaw clench so hard, his teeth gritted. But the man's next movement stunned him all the more. In front of him, the man embraced Alex, making Gabe suddenly want to combust. His tumbler could've shattered if he tightened his grip on it a little more.

"Uhm, Julian, hi," Gabe surveyed Alex as she writhed within the man's arms, waiting for any signal from her so he could do something, anything, to make this man go away. But she assured him with one look, shifting a little, making the man who wedged himself between them release her.

"It's been so long! When was the last time I saw you, like, 12, 13 years ago?" the man exclaimed, his annoying smile making Gabe want to slam his fist somewhere. And it wasn't on the bar counter.

Gabe heard Alex scoff, fighting hard to regain her composure. "Yeah, high school," Her icy demeanor took over, one that Gabe only saw in the courtroom. She brushed her dress as she tilted her head to Gabe's direction.

The man turned to Gabe, the surprise evident as he acknowledged Gabe's presence behind him. The two men sized each other up sending an undercurrent of tension between them. Before Gabe could even consider acting out of impulse, Alex cleared her throat to diffuse his temper.

"Julian, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is Julian, my -"

"Ex," Julian interjected, before turning his attention to the lawyer. Apparently, this guy had a habit, Gabe observed. "We were together senior year. Alessandra, my angel, we had the best time together, didn't we? We looked good together, at least after Alex thought to improve her image here. Sadly, we had to break up. Teenage romances, you know?"

The picture couldn't be any clearer; this was the person Alex was speaking about during their dinner back in New York. And hearing the way he talked, no wonder Julian got under her skin. He was a damned manipulative pretentious liar. Gabe could hear the dishonesty between the words, not an ounce of authenticity in sight while the blonde hotshot rambled on.

Alex wasn't showing any sympathy either, her brown eyes staring daggers at him, as he went on about his monologue, emphasizing on how she was his back then. She was clearly infuriated by his attempt to own her, as well as his lack of shame. As Gabe quietly considered her reaction, he deliberated on a strategy to put her out her misery. The moment an idea came to mind, he gave Alex a subtle look asking her to back his play.

Alex nodded, sitting a little straighter. Finding the instant shift in her, Gabe made his move.

"Sweetheart," he slowly raised his voice as he said the endearment, enjoying the contempt from the other guy when he was interrupted. "You never told me Julian Wintour was your ex."

Alex smiled smugly, appearing pleased with the nickname Gabe chose, a clear pun on the whole high school sweetheart trope. "Never crossed my mind, babe. It's such an unimportant detail in my past," she waved her hand dismissively.

"Ah, nonsense," he finished his drink and gestured for the bartender to clean up. "Mr. Wintour's history would have made a good conversation starter." Gabe straightened his vest and stood, collecting his coat. He sauntered towards Alex, circling around the now speechless Julian. He draped his jacket over her shoulders, clearly making a statement before he reached for her hand, wrapping it in his.

"Why? Isn't the shiny nameplate of Senior Partner not good enough?" Alex expertly rode along, locking eyes with her former flame before gazing back at Gabe enticingly. "Forgive him, Julian. My lovely boyfriend here has a bad hobby of underselling himself," she smiled warmly, the irony of her statement eluding her ex. Gabe was about to smirk with her ingenuity, stopping when he felt her arm slowly wrapping around his waist. He barely stifled a groan at the intimacy of her touch.

The other man went beet red at the gesture. For embarrassment or infuriation or both, Gabe didn't fucking care. All he cared about was for Alex to slap this douche's face, metaphorically speaking.

"Anyway, Julian, it's been a pleasure. It's been a long night, and we're about ready to retire at our penthouse suite," steadily, she got up from her seat. The command in her was undeniable, forcing anyone to feel nothing but regret the day they decided Alessandra Keating wasn't good enough for them. Then with a flourish, she turned around as she let Gabe take her away from her past lover's scrutinizing gaze.

Inside the elevator, Gabe caught Alex's exhale of relief, probably thankful that Julian was out of her sight. Gabe still held onto her hand, though Alex didn't seem to notice. As they began their ascent, he waited for her to break the silence, deciding that the questions running in his mind can wait.

"I would have traded my rankings for the look of disbelief in Julian's face," Alex said turning to him, to which Gabe arched his brow.

He smirked devilishly, knowing Alex could take the hint. "I believe I could offer a sight better than that."

She grinned at the innuendo, further lightening up the mood between them. "One day, Gabe, I'll take you up on that," she said, crossing her legs as she leaned on the polished wall behind her. "Though I'm sure you're dying to know... How did I end up dating the Julian Wintour?"

Gabe pondered before answering. "Hmm, actually not the first one that comes to mind, no." He tapped against his temple. "I doubted you would ever bat an eyelash to his direction."

Her eyebrows rose. "Ah, you think so highly of me." She chuckled, shaking her head at his reply. "But yes, he was my ex. And yes, he was the red on my ledger. He was my first love," she admitted. "That ideal, once in a lifetime, true love everyone's talking about? Julian was it, or at least I thought he was." she sighed, glancing at her reflection on the polished metal panel beside her. "But when things started to go downhill for me, he was the first one to walk out," she paused, taking a deep breath. "By cheating on me."

Gabe's body went rigid, clenching his fists so hard until his nails dug unto his palms. What the fucking hell? I know I should have punched that guy's perfect teeth! He decided against airing his vengeful thoughts, staying quiet as he glimpsed at her image on the walls.

"Joey reminded me how Julian made me doubt myself. If I'm really over what he's done to me, if he's still in my head," she continued, rubbing at her nape. Gabe felt her gaze fall on him, which he reciprocated. "But after walking out from him tonight, I am much more certain that I made it out, after all."

Gabe felt her squeeze his hand as she said those words, and his heart somersaulted inside his chest. "So thanks. I needed that little nudge," she said in finality.

He turned to beam at her as he relished the triumph in her words, hoping that it was enough to convey that he was proud of her. And to be part of that discovery about herself, about who she always was in his eyes - someone who was his equal.

When they arrived at her floor, she gently freed her hand from his grasp invoking a sharp exhale from him. She stepped out of the elevator, her gait as undeterred as ever. But then she turned, her soft expression dimmed by the lack of light. "And while we're on the subject of appreciation," she uttered, before dropping one last revelation.

"Thanks for that save you also gave me ten years ago," Alex glanced up at him with half-lidded eyes, her words laced with meaning.

It took him a few moments before he could even comprehend what she was trying to convey. He searched her eyes for some explanation but found none. "What do you mean, Alex?" he said, managing to find his voice.

"I know exactly who you are, Gabriel Ricci."

With that, the doors slowly closed in front of him, her sly smile fading from his sight until he can only see his own reflection. He examined her last sentence, repeating the words over and over in his head. There was only one plausible explanation: she only knew half of the truth. His body sagged against the wall as he shut his eyes, angry at himself.

No Alex, I think you really don't.

Author's Notes: Thank you for your continued reading! As some of you may have already noticed, this part was written purely in Gabe's POV because I wanted to expose his conflicted feelings for Alex. It's probably my own version of revenge, with PB stretching that slow burn as much as they could 🤭 Share your thoughts in the comments, I'd really appreciate it! 💖

Taglist: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @sarcastic01lily @spookycolorpeanut @ophrookie @suitfer

@choicesficwriterscreations

It's my first time tagging a couple of folks, so please inform me if I missed including you. Also, want to be added or removed from the tag list? No problem - just let me know 😊.

[elluq]

Rules

General

obviously no god-modding, controlling my muse etc. Continue to do this and I'll drop the thread

Muns first language isn’t English so I’m pretty forgiving when it comes to grammar since i’m not perfect either but it has to be understandable or I can’t RP with you 

Questions or concerns?  Message me or send me an ask.  

this blog is multi-ship and multiverse, so muses are not cheating on another muse unless discussed

bigotry and hate are not allowed here 

If you wish to drop a plotted thread, please let me know and I will understand

If I do or say something you have a problem with, please message me. most likely I didn’t even realize

This blog isn't really suitable for minors

Plotting and interacting

Do not assume your muse knows my muse or has history with them without consulting

Please don’t reblog threads you’re not a part of

I’m non-selective and multiverse, oc and multi-fandom friendly

i still have a right to refuse an rp if i think the plot isn’t working out or our muses aren’t compatible or you break rules repeatedly.

I don’t mind doing multiple threads with the same mun and muse.

I prefer plotting if you want a long rp. Starters are fine, but don't expect it to go far

I get distracted easily so if I forget to reply, feel free to give me a poke

please do not spam me with repeated asks though, it gets a little annoying

Also please don’t pester me repeatedly (reminding me once is okay). I have a life outside of tumblr and i might be busy at the moment even if i’m lurking around

fiction is fiction, remember that. If my muse does something its not a personal attack to you as a person so getting upset over that is a you problem

muse is not the same as mun. If a muse does a certain thing, it does not mean the mun supports it

Nsfw content

NSFW is fine, though i will not RP NSFW with minors

I have a right to refuse NSFW RPs for whatever reason. Try to force me and I'll block you

NSFW will be tagged with #lemon

I’ll RP some triggering subjects (abuse, self-harm, mental illness etc.) but please discuss it first.

There will be dark content and I'll try to tag it but be aware of this

I don’t RP:

- I don’t do vore, WG, pedophilia or incest. personally aren’t comfortable with RPing these, so please don’t try to force those things into a thread or I will have to block

(That being said, if there's something you aren't comfortable with, please say so)

- Miscarriage (my muse), discussion of it is fine

[rapid-as-sass-in-nation-team]

{{ Do you have rules? I couldn't click on the link }}

Oh I'm sorry, and yes I do, Copy pasted these from my General Info post, which I unfortunately forgot to pin before now XP So here you go! Hope your well!

Don't god mod for one. I wanna see how our writing styles mix into something interesting, not how you soley want things to go, if you want that, write it yourself, it's no fun for the other person.

Be nice! Your allowed to be mean to my characters, that's all fine but don't be mean to me for no good reason, if you aren't gonna be respectful then I don't wanna write with you.

I'm pretty open to most ships! Others I'm not sold on. Strella for instance I'm not usually a fan of, but if you manage to give a pleasant dynamic with a ship, even I'm not a huge fan of it in general I'm most likely gonna be open to having my muses reciprocate. So if I like the chemistry we end up having and you do too, then all's good ship wise.

This is gonna be a full Multiverse thing, so we can have multiple things going, even with the same characters, just make that clear for me.

Please be patient! it will likely take a while for me to get back on replying to somethings and I often have a lot going on, so please don't spam stuff, it will stress me out or annoy me which won't make me want to rush it out.

This is an 18+ blog, so I'm fine getting rough and dirty if you want, though you might have to be a bit heavy handed making that clear in some cases, I'm bad at reading context clues XP Though that leads to the next rule.

I am open to you DMing me anytime! Either to just chat or organize RP stuff so we're both on the same page. If your nervous about not getting something across just tell me upfront to make sure I know ^^ And lastly

Ask me or The Muses anything, any time! Could be a starter or could just be an ask for the fun of it. I welcome anything for the most part ^^

Hope this helps!