#Entry 006

[my-unaddressed-letters]

I quite like it whenever we banter. I admit I look forward to the very first one each day and the following ones. I love it when you teach me things. I like it when you agree with me. I like it when you look at me or even just in my direction. I like it when you try to make me laugh just to tease me that I'm crazy for suddenly laughing without a reason. I liked that one time you bought me a drink. I liked the time you took me to look in a bookstore together. I may continue on with my list but in the end I know that I should not and don't want to entertain these thoughts. We work together. You like another girl. You're not leaving very soon unlike the guy I like. It will make me awkward; and you...

It is just unacceptable. My brain or heart or whatever it is must just be confused, right?

[levandright]

Hello levv! Okay so if I had to describe myself, I see myself as a very talkative person. Like not going around and talking to everyone but talkative and extroverted in general. I have been called funny and comforting by friends. My sign is leo. Ideal type would be someone understanding and patient. Someone who’d be open to communicate and care. Favorite trope(s) might have to be rivals to lovers or grumpy x sunshine. And favorite season is winter! Hobbies are: sketching and baking. Group I’d like to be matched w is enhypen nd can I get a song as well?😁🙏🏻 thank youuu!🩷

FINDING YOUR MATCH...

MATCH FOUND! your match is... NISHIMURA RIKI

NI-KIlikes listening to you talk, it could be just you ranting about how your day went and he'd just be silently nodding along to what you say. he thinks your voice is really nice.

NI-KIthinks your presence is so comforting. when he's tired he would just lay down next to you, and he will immediately feel 5x better.

NI-KIwants to help you in the kitchen when you're baking, but would inevitably turn it into a chaotic (yet adorable) mess. flour fights? check! dropping ingredients? double check. in the end, he’d mostly just hang around to sneak hugs and make you laugh. whenever ni-ki feels stressed or tired, just the smell of your baked goods would instantly make him feel better. he’d hug you from behind while you work and say, “you’re my happy place, you know that?”

NI-KIis a sneaky snacker. he will constantly steal and eat the dough, chocolate or frosting laying around the counter when you're not looking. ends with him getting scolded when he's caught cause now you have to measure the ingredients out again to cover for the one's he ate.

NI-KIis your official taste tester! his critiques are not very dependable though, "needs 0.5% more sugar and 10x more chocolate."

NI-KIshows off the food you bake for him to the other members, "my girlfriend made this for me!" he says it so proudly, and ends up getting teased by the other members for that. "wow, didn't know our maknae can be like this~"

your custom playlist ʚɞ

ʚɞ lev notes : i had a blast writing the baking hc's so much, hope you like this <3 ʚɞ want to find your own match? apply here! ʚɞ curious about other matches?

[kindreddraickin]

THINGS I HAVE SAID WHILE PLAYING HW2 || STILL ACCEPTING! || @mute-call

mute-call asked: ❝ I know you can't tell, but I'm fingergunning you. ❞

❝ Ugh. ❞

[A defeated groan is her instinctive response; not only was she seeing ( and hearing! ) things now, but her mind was apparently so cursed that the figments of her imagination were finger-gunning at her. If anything, that SHOULD be proof that this self-proclaimed ghost might be real, but April would be a skeptic until the day she died. Maybe there was some deep, dark part of her psyche that would unironically finger-gun at people. Awful.]

❝ Good for you, I guess. ❞ [She reprimanded herself, yet again, for speaking to what was clearly some repressed version of her psyche. Maybe the night shift was getting to her a little too much. She could only hope that her friends would actually TELL her if she was acting "off" -- that hope was the only thing between her and a potential visit to the psych ward.]

❝ If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be able to do my job without being interrupted by you. Do you think you could shut up for, like, five seconds? ❞

[skzophreniic]

🗂️ SKZOTEL: Guest Relations Masterlist Filed by: Concierge Aeryn Classification: Public Access – For Approved Guests & Voyeurs

Welcome to the official SKZotel Guest Relations Masterlist. Below you’ll find formal investigations, incident reports, and internal service memos pertaining to staff interactions with select guests. All documentation is archived for transparency, accountability, and... entertainment purposes.

Please remember: ✦ All guests involved have provided enthusiastic consent. ✦ All staff members remain under close supervision ✦ Any further concerns may be submitted directly to Concierge Aeryn.

📁 Case Files

➤ Case #001 – Room 706 / Front Desk Incident ✦ Involved Staff: Seungmin Kim ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Internal Service Memo ✦ Filed by: VIP Guest at Room 706

➤ Case #002 – GM Office/ Unauthorized Use of Executive Amenities ✦ Involved Staff: Christopher Chan Bahng ✦ Requested: Custom Drabble + Internal Service Memo ✦ Filed by: Guest at Suite 801

➤ Case #003 – Room 1706/ Misconduct During Welcome Assistance ✦ Involved Staff: Felix Lee ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Internal Service Memo ✦ Filed by: Guest at Room 1706

➤ Case #004 –Room 814/ Evening Turndown Service ✦ Involved Staff: Hyunjin Hwang ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Internal Service Memo ✦ Filed by: Guest at Room 814

➤ Case #005 –Room ???/ Spa Incident ✦ Involved Staff: Jeongin Yang ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Internal Service Memo ✦ Filed by: Spa Attendee

➤ Case #006 –Room 630/ Press for Service ✦ Involved Staff: Felix Lee ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Private Follow up report. ✦ Filed by: Guest At Room 630

➤ Case #007 –Room 325/ Missing Panties ✦ Involved Staff: Hyunjin Hwang ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Internal Service Memo ✦ Filed by: Guest At Room 325

➤ Case #008 –Room 704/ Officer Voyeur ✦ Involved Staff: Jisung Han ✦ Requested: Custom Drabble + Private Follow up report. ✦ Filed by: VIP Guest at room 704

➤ Case #009– Room 101/ Car Inspection ✦ Involved Staff: Changbin Seo ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Private Follow up report. ✦ Filed by: Guest at room 101.

➤ Case #010– Room 330/ Missing Number ✦ Involved Staff: Christopher Bahng ✦ Requested: Formal Investigation + Internal Service Memo ✦ Filed by: Guest at room 330

➤ Case #011–TBD ✦ Involved Staff: ✦ Requested: ✦ Filed by:

New entries added as investigations proceed. Thank you for choosing SKZotel.

[loveharlow]

A JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader Series Rewrite

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚ Y/n Carter's life is turned upside down when she and her long-time friends, the self-proclaimed pogues, get set on the path to find treasure.

[Series rewrite; S1-S4]

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ smut, mentions of non-con, swearing, mentions of cheating, mild slow burn, angst, mentions of assault/s*xual assault, mentions of drugs/addiction, mentions/graphic depictions of murder, allusions to/depictions of pregnancy/miscarriage, animal cruelty/death, mentions of death, general obx warnings, more detailed warnings for each individual chapter

SERIES TAG NAV‧₊˚ #fic analysis🔍 || #svn || #mailbox:svn

...BEFORE THE GOLD

The Entries (Pages 1-15)

contains spoilers, recommended to read after season one

...SEASON 1

001

002

003

004

005

006

007

008

...THE INBETWEEN

In Loving Memory

P4L

Kiss It Better

...SEASON 2

001

002 (pt 1)

002 (pt 2)

003

004

005 (pt 1)

005 (pt 2)

006

007 (pt 1)

007 (pt 2)

...POGUELANDIA

Fever Dream

Moon River

Falling Down

...SEASON 3

001

002

...EIGHTEEN MONTHS

6 Months Later

9 Months Later

18 Months Later

...SEASON 4

Coming Soon!

...EXTRAS (IN ORDER)

TR's car

S1 Mood Board & Playlist

TR Finds Her Dad's Body

TR & Rafe's First Time

Topper Catches TR & Rafe

Rafe SA's TR

TR tells Sarah about Rafe

The Pogues Realize TR is Missing (during s2/005 p1)

The Pogues Reactions to Finding TR (during s2/005 p1)

Rafe's reaction to Tr & JJ's Relationship (during s2/005 p1)

The Inbetween Moodboard & Playlist

[p-seduonym]

The Little Light That Got Lost (Part Six)

A/N: More spookiness! I promise I'll make a cohesive post that goes over everything in detail when I'm done with this series. I'll also add the other parts to this post so you can see where this all started.

Taglist: @cheust, @i-simp-for-women, @goodsoup19, @143637-hrrm, @delias-stuff, @12nitled, @cutenessbun, @rinkydinkythinky, @trashlanternfish360, @bunbunbread, @daddysfangirls-dc, @justannie18(will add more if asked)

Part One

Part Two

Part 2.5

Interlude

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Based off of @cheust's Ghost Caretaker AU. It's really good so give it a read!

Wayne Family Residence – Sleepwalking Observation Log Compiled by: Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth Subject: Master Casey Wayne Purpose: To document incidents of somnambulism for Dr. Hoffman’s review Start Date: [REDACTED]

Entry #004 Date: [REDACTED] Time: 03:08 AM

Description: Awoke to a faint creaking on the third-floor landing. Upon investigation, found Master Casey standing motionless at the top of the main staircase. Eyes open, unblinking. Left arm extended slightly forward, as if reaching for something unseen. No response when addressed. Gently guided them back to bed. Breathing remained steady throughout.

Notes: This marks the fourth occurrence in seven nights. Tonight’s positioning—so near the staircase edge—was particularly concerning. Will install a motion-triggered nightlight and padded stair runner for safety. Noted faint smudge marks trailing along the stair railing—fingerprints that do not match my own. Casey’s hands were clean at the time of redirection.

Entry #005 Date: [REDACTED] Time: 02:41 AM

Description: Security alarms signaled motion in the garden. Located Master Casey standing barefoot at the edge of the garden pond, eyes fixated on the water. Temperature near freezing. Toes curled against the stone. Clutched in their hand, a silver coin I do not recognize. Murmuring indistinctly under their breath. No response to light, voice, or physical contact. Gently redirected them indoors. Upon returning with warm milk, found them fast asleep on the sitting room love seat. Coin was taken to the study for further review.

Notes: Second recorded instance of outdoor wandering. Perimeter systems to be reinforced; window sensors on the east wing scheduled for diagnostics. No known personal significance of the pond to Master Casey. Arranging temporary pond cover. Coin appears to be genuine silver, origin unknown. Following morning, Casey expressed great distress upon discovering the coin missing. Claimed it was given by the "tooth fairy" and promised to "Yaya" to keep it with them at all times.

Entry #006 Date: [REDACTED] Time: 01:57 AM

Description: Heard low murmuring via nursery monitor. Entered the room to find Casey seated upright in bed, speaking in an unrecognizable language. Tone monotone. Rhythm steady—phrase repeated six times. Upon approach, they turned toward me and clearly stated in English: “She doesn’t like the basement.” Then lay back down and resumed sleeping.

Notes: The basement door remains locked at all times. To my knowledge, Casey has never been made aware of its existence.

Entry #007

Date: [REDACTED]

Time: 03:14 AM

Description:Discovered Master Casey’s bedroom door open during routine patrol. No signs of forced entry or tampering with child safety locks. Located them in the east wing study, seated before the fireplace. Barefoot, dressed in sleepwear, hands resting calmly in their lap. Eyes open, but unfocused. Did not respond to voice. Offered no resistance when carried back to bed. Remained asleep throughout. Notably, the fireplace—unused in years—carried the faint scent of burnt wood.

Notes:No known reason for Casey to enter the study. The room is uninviting and generally avoided. When questioned in the morning, they recalled a vague dream “about being cold,” but no recognition of the study itself. Will recheck all window locks and reinstall motion sensors in the east wing corridors.

Entry #008 Date: [REDACTED] Time: 01:57 AM

Description: Master Casey found at the attic stairwell threshold. Door was ajar—odd, as it remains latched from the outside. No signs of tampering. They held the same silver coin previously secured in the study. I am certain I placed it in a locked cabinet drawer, which remains undisturbed. Casey did not ascend the stairs. Appeared to be listening. When asked what they heard, whispered, “They’re quiet right now.” Did not elaborate. Escorted them back to bed. Coin was again confiscated and this time locked in the wall safe.

Notes: The attic has been unused for several years. No personal items stored within. Security logs show no activity near the attic before this incident. Will perform a manual inspection during daylight hours. Coin now exhibits faint edge scratches and an unfamiliar fingerprint smudge. Still unclear how Casey regained possession. Beginning to question whether locking it away serves any purpose.

Ongoing Concerns:

Increased frequency and complexity of episodes

Recurrent focus on specific household locations (staircase, basement, attic, rear entrance)

Introduction of unexplained objects and behavior (coin, unfamiliar language, environmental awareness during unconscious state)

Recommendations: Continue nightly documentation. Strongly advise informing Master Wayne of the full extent of these incidents prior to briefing Dr. Hoffman. I anticipate reluctance.— A. Pennyworth

A/N: This one felt a little weird because I thought it'd be a bit more informal but it still feels clinical. I think I'll stop this sort of writing after I finish this series.

[archives-of-a-hidden-writer]

Dog

Recruiter / Salesman X GN!Reader

》Typing... |

》 [Entry No.006 - Dog] |

》 Loading Archive Entry "Dog" |

》 Location of Entry: Archivial's |

》 Tip: Feel free to support the Archiver |

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

》 Summary: Where instead of meeting Gi-hun as expected, you got to him first in the motel, and now, you are the one playing his game. Though, you have your own cards up your sleeves. In which, instead of dying in his own game, you decided to change how the ending of his supposed life goes from this point and onwards. |

》 Warnings: SPOILERS TO SQUID GAME SEASON 2 EPISODE 1, Use of weaponry(guns), Russian roulette, large change of story, possible OOC, Implied Master/pet, degradation(questionable, reader tells recruiter same lines gihun did originally), Reader is observant of their surroundings, Implications of stalking. |

》 Archive Entry Loaded ◇

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

You panted as you approach the pink motel, immediately taking notice of the light signage above emanating a pink hue. He's here, you thought as your phone ran with Gi-hun name written on the screen.

"He's here..." Is all you said as you slowly entered the motel, all you can here from your phone was Gi-hun saying okay and the sound what seemed to be him speeding up his car before the call was ended.

For context, three years ago, you were also one of the people who was recruited to be in the games. But unlike the rests and Gi-hun, you didn't took the over and discarded the card somewhere in your bag, completely forgetting about it until you met Gi-hun who's in seemingly stress trying to find a so-called salesman recruiting people to these games. The two of you knew each other due to relations with Gi-hun's former wife and kid, but also for helping him out at times like his friend does.

It was when he asked you to help him find this salesman once again, showing you the very same old card that he got before that reminded you of your own, trashed somewhere in your same old bag, in which you found again.

The look in Gi-hun's face when he realized you just dodged the very same bullet he and other players' hadn't, a look of utter shock and surprise that was soon changed as he realized he now could have an ally because you, too, was almost recruited.

■■■

Slowly, you opened the door to the room Gi-hun works around, his room, and was greeted by the very same recruiter you gave you the card those years ago. The man turned around to meet not Gi-hun but you. Your eyes didn't fail to noticed the slight widen of his eyes before quickly covering it under his facade.

"You two have been busy... Look at all of this," he whistled, smiling as he pointed the gun around the map Gi-hun had on the wall, several stations crossed out and marked. "... Real busy, thanks to you..." You muttered back, standing tall as if he and his gun doesn't phase you one bit.

As he wandered around the room, smiling all throughout, you remained silent, as if eyeing him down like prey before he sat down on the chair pushed onto the wall. In this room, the atmosphere between the two of you, between who is prey and who is predator, is in a blender of a mix.

"You know... We should be thankful for you... Or my friend, Gi-hun, wanted to thank you," you started, swinging your head back as you sat down as well, chair opposing to his, the only gap between the two of you is the small round table.

The man raised an eyebrow to this, "Yeah? For what?" He asked, leaning back on the chair he sat, a faint smugness on his face.

You can almost curse out loud at the small and silent actions he could pull at you.

Answering his question, you just shrugged, "Can't tell, not my tale to tell..." you answered, to which, he returned with another smile.

"All I did was extend the invitation. I'm just a delivery man," he said, to which you responded quickly, "And to which, my friend wishes to know who hired you to do this... He wants a little chat," you replied, leaning over as you glared at the man.

"Tell me what he wish to know or tell to them, I'll gladly share it with them" he replied, earning a no from you, "No, we're not doing that...." you said as you shook your head. "Well, even if I or he told you, an underling like yourself wouldn't understand it," you added, leaning back with a grin on your face.

He lightly chuckled, but there was an underlying sense of irritation in his voice. "How did you think I got to where I am?" He asked me, tilting his head as he looked at you dead in the eyes.

"I don't really give a fuck on how you become their damn lapdop," but one hell of a fine lapdog, you thought to yourself after you commented on his question, "And you know damn well, what we, no, he wants is your master," you added, pointing at the man.

He then hummed at this, bringing the gun he held back up, "Do you think your special just because you rejected playing and befriended the latest winner?" He asked, tsking as he takes in the loaded gun and checked its cylinder.

You didn't answer his question, of course, as the two of you had different views yet a similar understanding answer.

The gun clicked, its cylinder going back in as he pointed it at you. "Why don't we play a game?" He asked you, pulling the trigger only to came out empty.

You now knew what he wishes to play.

■■■

He smiled, he didn't get through you as you pulled the trigger towards your head.

Russian Roulette, a known yet dangerous game that revolves around gambling your life in the cylinder of the held gun.

You went first as the gun pointed at you when the man spun the weapon. You pulled the trigger, of course. Then, you both took turns pulling the trigger.

It was when something shifted in you when the man leaned forward during his turn, taking the gun and placing its barrel in his mouth. He looked at you straight in the eyes before pulling the trigger. Emtpy as he smiled with the gun barrel still in his mouth.

Despite denying, that action made you feel something, and you know damn well it isn't appropriate.

And now, at the final round, where the last two rounds would decipher who would die or live, rather than the expecting burst of anger to point the gun at him instead, forcing it to be his turn and yours next, you pulled the trigger at yourself, ignoring the underlying attempt to get your anger get the better of you. Yet that didn't happen as you tossed the gun back to him, the weaponry sliding across the table before stopping right in front of him as he slowly took the gun. And once again, you didn't fail to notice the slight shift in his eyes, the way they moved as he realized that he lost in his own game.

"What's wrong? Mind beginning to race?" you asked him, throwing his own words back at him.

"You really think I'm that easy to get, you must've thought I was a coward when I didn't participate the games, did you?" You started, mocking him as you leaned away, gaze eyeing him down like prey.

"... But the thing is... I listened to my gut, and my damn gut told me to leave it be, do not participate... And so I fucking didn't," you sneered, pointing and tapping your fingers at the table seperating the two of you.

"And you know what my gut tells me right now?" You asked, tilting your head. It was as if the way he acted transferred to you, and how you once was transferred to him. "My damn gut tells me how much of a damn fucking dog you are to them... You put your little mask on, and do whatever damn those masters tells you to... As. Their. Damn. Dog."

You stopped for a moment, taking in the unknown and unfamiliar emotion weitted across his features. One that you may tell as defeat, shame, and fear, not of you, but of death.

"And another thing my gut tells me..." you started again. Although, this time around, things are slightly different.

"Is that you're fucking in love..." you said, taking in the way his eyes twitched in shock, stopping himself to look surprised to no avail. "Don't even try to hide it, I've seen you and your dirty games behind my back," you started again.

Ever since that meeting at the station, you couldn't help but feel like someone is often watching you, yet you never tried to show that you're aware. But in the corner of your peripheral vision, he was there. No matter where or when, he would be there, watching you, whether it was from the sidelines, in cafes or stores, or in bolder times, passing by you.

You grew to notice him even more up to this point where in the past months, his seemingly stalking presence had been absent. This which somehow weirded you out.

And now, you knew why.

"I've seen you, until these months, where I've now known that you've been recruiting others again..." you said, shaking your head.

You spoke your words while he stared at you, a visible awestruck in his face. He didn't realised you were onto him this whole time, and he thought you were fairly easy to stalk around. Oh how wrong he was about you.

Noticing his face, you smirked, "So... Admit it, you love me, ever fucking since that meeting at the station," you said. And there, he smirked, you won and he lost in his own game.

Then, he finally spoke.

"I love you,"

Then, he quickly pointed the gun at his chin, a loud shot echoed in the building. Yet there was no blood. Now, you held him by the wrist, the same one that held the gun, with the item now pointing away from his chin and now at the ceiling. He was quick, but you could be as well.

A look of shock was evidently written all over his face as there you were, basically saving his life from the meant punishment of his game.

"Now, let's not go there... I have other things to do for you, dog..." You laced out a seemingly fitting nickname for him as you yet to know his actual name. You slowly removed the gun off his hand as you slide your own in his, intertwining the fingers as he somehow subconsciously does as well. Meanwhile, your other hand hovers over his face, fingertips lingering over the skin of his cheek and jawline before you leaned forward. With this, you whispered.

"Let's start over, shall we?"

■■■

"Are you sure you don't want to go also?" Gi-hun asked as he and some group of guys went into vans to execute Gi-hun's plan.

You shook your head at his question, "This is your plan and goal, not mine... I'm not the one who participated anyway," you answered, silently giving indication that I already have gotten what I went for in the first place.

Gi-hun nodded to this, patting my shoulder before entering the car and drove off, followed by the two vans which had the groups of men.

You watched as the vehicles drove away before entering the motel again, to which, Gi-hun gave you the building for the time being of their plan. You were fine about this of course, now that you have the wanted man with you now.

■■■

Head resting in your chest, the man remained in spiral. He was suppose to be dead, yet here he was, alive just because of you and the mutual feeling you both feel for each other.

"Still in thought?" You muttered, one hand on his back and the other on his hair.

He just hummed and nodded in return, earning a scoff from you, "What? Afraid shit like this with me would go on only for you to be killed by them?" You asked him, earning a shrug from his shoulders.

Despite only a day, if not mere hours, after that game, the man easily melted under you, not the facade he wore like before, no, this was somehow a raw version of himself.

"Got a tracker in you or something? We can easily remove it," you added, gaze up at the ceiling as you do so. He hummed to your words, feeling him fiddle over the hem of your shirt.

After which, both of you just decided to stay in and sleep, forgetting everything surrounding the two of you and worrying about them tomorrow.

For now, you wish to just spend the time with this loose screws of a man for now.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

》 Archiver's Notes: For any reader who is wondering, yes, this entry is slightly inspired by another writer. Though I can't tell who it was as I didn't manage to check the username, this is inspired by theirs. Feel free to tell their username or the entry(fanfic) name.

[colonelarr0w]

now playing - jujutsu kaisen

" being a child is not a sin. " " the most twisted curse of all is love. "

featuring -> satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna, hiromi higuruma, ino takuma, yuuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuuta okkostu, toge inumaki

key : * = angst ~ = smut ^ = fluff

< ... >

entry 001 : who is (y/n)? ft. kento nanami * entry 002 : a quiet night in ft. kento nanami ^ entry 003 : voices ft. suguru geto ^* entry 004 : baked goods ft. suguru geto ^ entry 005 : girls night out ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo, choso kamo ^~ entry 006 : recharge ft. kento nanami ^ entry 007 : fix you ft. suguru geto ^* entry 008 : soft dom ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 009 : everyone but you ft. megumi fushiguro ^ entry 010 : cold, dead heart ft. ryomen sukuna ^* entry 011 : cat-like ft. choso kamo ^ entry 012 : opposites ft. yuuji itadori ^ entry 013 : starry night ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo ^* entry 014 : betting on you ft. satoru gojo * entry 015 : pink-haired matchmaker ft. kento nanami ^ entry 016 : firsts ft. kento nanami ^~ entry 017 : private, not secret ft. kento nanami ^ entry 018 : looking after you ft. suguru geto ^* entry 019 : jealousy ... insecurity ft. yuuta okkotsu ^* entry 020 : part of you ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 021 : aggressive dom ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 022 : why you? ft. suguru geto ^ entry 023 : everything was perfect ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 024 : deserved ft. hiromi higuruma ~ entry 025 : my love, mine all mine ft. multi ^ entry 026 : never alone ft. suguru geto ^* entry 027 : designated seat ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 028 : not her ft. yuuji itadori * entry 029 : shoulders ft. suguru geto ^* entry 030 : to you ft. toji fushiguro ^ entry 031 : softened edge ft. ryomen sukuna ^ entry 032 : not her (2) ft. yuuji itadori * entry 033 : mirrored image ft. suguru geto * entry 034 : drunkenly yours ft. megumi fushiguro ^ entry 035 : not yet ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 036 : across the universe ft. multi ^ entry 037 : what might've been ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo, ieri shoko ^* entry 038 : a welcome distraction ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo ^

[zatsysart]

ARTDEX ENTRY: 006 | DEX 869

[szarina]

— LOOK WHO'S TALKIN’

ENTRY #006 OF SHAISUKI'S KINKTOBER 2023

FT. MATSUKAWA ISSEI + DUMBIFICATION

— fucking someone so hard they go stupid.

• pairing: matsukawa issei x chubby reader

• content warnings: table sex, name calling (cumdump), degradation, teasing.

you and your smart mouth and the effect it have on him. maybe it's time for issei to put you in your place and he got the perfect idea.

“cat got your tongue, eh?”

issei jeers at you. his face morphing into one of a mocking expression with a huge shit- eating grin in his lips. eyeing your plump body slumped in the table while his cock is buried to the hilt inside your soaking pussy.

the cold table in where you laid is lathered with your sweat. it felt disgusting but at least it provide you some relief to not get your back bruised from how hard issei was fucking you. you felt so small and helpless and you can't voice out your annoyance and frustration at him. the air in your lungs getting knocked out everytime you tried to say something. you're beyond incoherent at this point.

“want to say something? use that smart mouth of yours, baby.” he challenges. his hips busy snapping at an unruly place to your cunt. his arm wrapped around your leg with your ankle hooked in his shoulder.

he can't help but to chuckle at your current position. you were totally powerless against him. what banter and the sarcasm firing from your mouth earlier are nothing but babbles and whines coming from your mouth. too stupid to speak something about him. serves you right.

don't get him wrong. issei loves that smart mouth of yours. it made his days, adding color to his life and he appreciates that. the playful banters, the jabs you throw at each other without getting offended and ending in laughs but today it was different. he was losing or to put it honestly, it was bruising his ego.

and what does it take to win from you? shut you up with his cock.

“too dumb to think of something witty, are we? this is what you get, sweetheart.” you whine at contempt. drool escaping in the corners of your mouth. fuck issei and his huge cock — you were literally doing it.

your body surrendering from unforgiving strength he was doing. you can't help but to lay there and take what issei has to give to you. your mind too mushed to think of anything and your mouth isn't cooperating with you.

he gazes at your plush body. your tits bouncing from his thrusts, stomach jiggling and that pretty face of yours — he could stare at it all day. your moans music to his ears and he treat it as a rest day for your daily squabbles with him.

mesmerized at the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock. his cock glistening with your slick and it made his cock throb more. his breeder balls slapping to your ass.

“just like that...” he groans feeling your walls clench around him. “you think you're so smart but you're just my stupid — stupid — stupid — cumdump. you're only good for taking my cock, — pretty.” the words hurt and it was unlike for issei to talk with you like this but for some reason that made your cunt throb more, your walls spasming around his cock so hard that it's almost impossible for him to push his cock deeper but no, issei wouldn't let that.

“you like being called my cumdump?” he asks, raising his brows and you shake your head. “oh really? your pussy says different, sweetheart.” there's a sneering tone in his voice and you only whine.

“you're getting dumber on me just for having a dick inside you.” placing your legs beside his torso as he hovers above you. his palms finding place besides you to get more leverage and then his hips began to slam against you.

“i'm going to give you a reason to get stupid.” the pad of his thumb began drawing circles in your clit and that made you cry more. your legs locking behind his torso. making it impossible for him to escape and encourage him to slam into you deeper.

“that's right. i'm going to fuck you until you can only think is my cock inside you.” he groans. with every sharp thrust as his cock making indentions inside your warm walls.

“s—shit, shit. you're going to cum aren't you?” sweat beginning to glisten in his skin. “alright — alright. i'm going to give you my cum.” he says rocking his hips and with a last forceful thrust. he emptied himself inside you. his orgasm triggering yours — sending shockwaves to your system that it made your hole convulse around him. your hips arching — body trembling from the orgasm your body had induced to you.

matsukawa gazes at you. too fucked out from the bliss and that made him smirk. just today, he found out on how to effectively shut you up. just fuck you hard until you can't stop creaming around him. a huge grin plastering in his face. shaking his head at your hopeless case of being fucked dumb by his cock. look who's talkin' now?

he wants to taunt at you but you were still reeling from your high and he'll let it slide. just for today. you were still too dumb to understand what he is saying.

issei will wait for a another day to use his way of shutting you up or not? maybe. he knows after this you're still running your smart mouth and it won't be a problem of making you shut up.

[imsuperhungry]

4 𝙖𝙢 (entry 006)

"ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ, ᵈᵉᵃʳ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ"

WARNINGS: Mild Yandere Themes, Cussing, Depression, Possessive Chris, Possessive Ashley, I write too damn much

WORD COUNT: 4071 (yikes)

(12:51 ᴀᴍ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʙɪɴ)

Chris eventually found you, crumpled on the floor like a broken marionette abandoned mid-act. The jagged edges of the wooden planks had pressed into your skin long enough to dull their sting, their chill merging with the hollow cold inside you. Time had melted into a shapeless abyss, each second dragging like lead, each minute indistinguishable from the last.

The cabin around you felt insubstantial, like a dream you couldn't wake from, but the coarse, splintered floor beneath you was devastatingly real. It grounded you in your despair, its unyielding embrace the only constant in the void swallowing you whole. You couldn't move, didn't dare try. The thought of standing felt foreign, the weight of your own existence too much to bear.

You weren't sure if it was the world that had turned unreachable or if it was you who had retreated too far within. Either way, the thought of getting up felt like a betrayal—to yourself, to the crushing grief that pinned you there.

When his words failed to pull you from your catatonic state, Chris exhaled a low, defeated sigh and knelt down. His arms slipped beneath you with a gentleness that didn't match the storm brewing inside him. Without hesitation, he lifted you, your lifeless form folding into his chest as if you were made of glass.

It wasn't the strain of carrying you that weighed on him—your frailty only made you feel lighter. It was the reason behind it that gnawed at his sanity. You were shattered, drained to the marrow, over Josh. The thought coiled around his heart like barbed wire, tightening with every step he took.

Chris didn't resent you, not for a second. But the depth of your grief stirred something bitter and jagged in him, a quiet fury he couldn't direct anywhere. Why Josh? Why always him? The weight he bore wasn't just your body—it was the knowledge that no matter how tightly he held you, he could never be the one to piece you back together.

Would you grieve like this if it were Chris? Would the tears spill so violently, carving rivers down your face as your chest caved beneath the weight of loss? Would your heart twist, not with knives but with jagged glass, the pain sharper and deeper than you'd ever felt before? He wondered, almost bitterly, if your sorrow would be even darker, even more consuming.

You and Josh shared something unbreakable, a bond that loomed over everyone else, even him—a truth Chris could barely stomach. It infuriated him, how obvious it was, how every fiber of your being had been stitched to Josh's. But somewhere, buried beneath his jealousy and anguish, a faint, reckless hope whispered: Maybe you cared for him more than you realized. Maybe, just maybe, he was the one you would have chosen.

The thought of your tears was a torment Chris couldn't bear—a ghostly weight that clung to him in his darkest moments. Yet, if those tears were his, shed in the shadow of his absence, it might be the one time he could endure it. There was something almost grotesque in the thought, selfish and cruel, but he couldn't shake it.

Josh was gone now, leaving a void Chris longed to fill, even if it was only out of necessity. Surely, he reasoned, he was all you had left (ignoring the countless others who cared for you). Would you turn to him the way you had Josh? Would you entrust him with the pieces of yourself too shattered to hold? The prospect made his heart seize, caught between a flicker of hope and a smothering wave of shame. Could he bear to replace a ghost? Could he even come close?

As Chris descended the stairs, your limp body cradled in his arms, his grip gradually tightened, as if the weight of his thoughts bore down through his hands. At first, you dismissed it, thinking he was simply trying to steady himself, ensuring you wouldn't slip. But the pressure soon became unbearable, an unspoken intensity radiating from his fingertips.

It wasn't caution—it was something darker, something rooted in his spiraling mind. The bruises that would surely bloom on your skin weren't just from his hands but from the invisible storm raging inside him. You felt it with every strained step, every shallow breath he took, and yet you didn't dare ask. Some questions carried answers too heavy to hold.

"Chris?" Your voice wavered, quiet and uncertain, yet it pierced through the fog of his thoughts. He blinked, disoriented, following your gaze as you tilted your head toward his hands. That's when he saw it—his fingers pressed into your skin, white-knuckled and unrelenting. It was as if his desperation had manifested in his grip, clawing its way out of his mind and onto you.

His breath caught, shame flickering across his face like a flame sputtering against the wind. He quickly loosened his grasp, the faintest tremor in his hands betraying him. "S-sorry," he stammered, his voice hoarse and uneven. He couldn't look at you, his guilt so heavy it made the air around him suffocating. But in that moment, even as his hands softened their hold, the lingering pressure was impossible to ignore—on your skin and in the air between you.

As Chris's feet hit the final step, the air shifted around you—a heavy, suffocating tension that hung between you like a storm cloud. It wasn't just the weight of your own emotions now; there was something else, something thick and unspoken in the space between your breaths. Without warning, you sprang from his grasp, your body moving with a jolt of energy that felt foreign after being so limp. It was as though every bit of strength you'd lost had returned in that instant, powered by the unsettling force emanating from him. You hit the floor with a quiet thud, landing solidly as though the world itself had shifted beneath you.

Ashley sat motionless on the couch, her body rigid as her eyes remained fixed on you. But it wasn't just you she was watching. Her gaze was drawn to Chris, or more specifically, to his hands—the ones that had just cradled you, holding you with an intensity that hadn't gone unnoticed. Her eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite place, a strange mixture of unease and something more primal. It was as if she was studying every subtle movement, every shift in his posture, as though trying to decode the unspoken tension that had settled between the three of you. The room felt charged now, thick with an energy that none of you dared to name.

Her brow furrowed slightly, the edges of her lips pressing into a thin line as her gaze flickered back and forth between you and Chris. The unease that crept up her spine was unrelenting, curling around her like a cold, invisible chain. There was no rational explanation for it, no clear reason for why her stomach churned with discomfort. But she couldn't ignore the sense that something was... off. Maybe it was the way Chris's fingers had clenched around you, the way the tension in his grip hadn't eased even after you'd been released. Or maybe it was the look in his eyes—vacant, almost hollow, as if a part of him had slipped away and never quite returned.

Whatever the reason, it gnawed at her, pulling at something deep within. Ashley couldn't shake the certainty that this wasn't just a moment of concern. It felt darker than that, a shift in the air she couldn't explain, but knew in her bones. 

"Uhm," Ashley started, her voice wavering slightly. "Did you see Sam up there?"

She directed the question at you, her tone laced with a hint of desperation, as if she were desperate to break free from the tight, suffocating air in the room. It was as though she needed a distraction—something, anything, to push aside the swirling unease that had settled in her chest.

Her eyes met yours, wide and searching, with an almost pleading softness, like a puppy gazing up at its owner, waiting for something—anything—to ground her. The innocence in her gaze was stark against the raw, jagged emotions crackling between you and Chris. She needed reassurance, or at least the appearance of normalcy. Something to hold onto in this storm of confusion.

But there was something else, buried deeper. Behind the glossy sheen of her gaze, something flickered—something tightly wound and carefully hidden in the recesses of her mind.

"No, I searched all the rooms, and I didn't catch a glimpse of her," you reply, your voice quiet but steady, a faint tremor betraying the tightness in your chest. The words feel heavier than they should, like a weight sinking deeper with each syllable. "Just the tub she was in and the water left behind."

You pause, taking in the dim, oppressive silence that fills the room. Then, with an almost desperate note, you add, "Have you guys searched the downstairs area?" Your words are sharp, tinged with a thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, there's a sign, a clue—something that would lead to her, bring her back, and silence the gnawing dread gnashing at the edges of your mind.

"We haven't yet," Ashley says, her voice tight, the words slipping through her teeth like they're struggling to leave her mouth. She chews on her lip, eyes darting to the floor as if avoiding the weight of the truth that's creeping closer with every second.

The silence that follows is thick, suffocating. Your heart thrums erratically in your chest, but for a fleeting moment, you let yourself breathe, a shaky inhale. The thought flashes—maybe this is all a misunderstanding. Maybe Sam's hiding somewhere, pulling some twisted prank on you all. Maybe, in some absurd twist of fate, she's just fine. You almost cling to that hope, letting it warm you for just a second, even though deep down, you know it's slipping through your fingers like sand.

You try to remain hopeful, clinging to that fragile sliver of optimism, as if Sam had just slipped away to some hidden corner of the house. Maybe she'd found the basement, tucked herself away, waiting for everyone to fall into a frenzy. Maybe—just maybe—this was all some ridiculous prank that Chris had orchestrated to test your nerves, to see just how far he could push you before you cracked.

But even as the thought crosses your mind, you can feel the weight of something far darker pressing against the edges of your thoughts. The house, the silence—it's all wrong. And that tiny, flickering hope starts to fade, leaving a cold, gnawing emptiness behind it.

"Okay, why don't we go looking for her, hm?" you say, your voice tight, the words barely more than a breath. The smile you force onto your face feels foreign, like a mask you can't quite hold in place. It's wide, stiff—unnatural, and you know it, but you wear it anyway. You begin to walk, your footsteps sharp and hollow as they echo through the cavernous hallways of the cabin.

The air feels thick, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if the house itself is pressing down on you. The silence is oppressive, suffocating in a way that leaves your chest tight, your skin prickling with the weight of unspoken things. But you push it aside, clinging to the faint hope that this is just another false alarm, that Sam is safe and this will all be over soon.

Chris and Ashley follow behind you, their footsteps a soft echo to your own, like two lost puppies trailing their leader. Neither of them speaks, their silence adding to the oppressive weight in the air. You can feel their eyes on you, but neither makes a move to break the thick, unspoken tension that coils around the three of you.

Each room you enter feels colder than the last, as if the walls themselves are closing in. The rooms are eerily empty, the remnants of normality somehow hollow and strange. Furniture that once offered comfort now stands in rigid silence, untouched and distant, as though even the house itself knows something is wrong.

You search each corner, each closet, your heart pounding in your ears as you force yourself to ignore the growing pit in your stomach. Every room seems to be the same—empty, lifeless, and suffocating. You try to breathe, but the air feels too thin, too tight, as if it's pressing against your lungs. The house is vast, sprawling, but in this moment, it feels like a prison, a labyrinth of corridors leading nowhere but deeper into the dark.

And still, no sign of Sam.

You opened the umpteenth door that night, your fingers trembling as you gripped the handle. Each turn, each hallway you explored felt like a futile attempt to escape the suffocating dread coiling in your chest. With every door, you clung to the hope that you would find some trace of Sam—some sign that she was safe, that all of this could be explained away as some cruel joke.

But no. Instead, the door creaked open to reveal yet another hallway, stretching into shadowy oblivion. The darkness beyond the threshold felt like it was swallowing the light, drawing you in with a silent promise of more emptiness. The walls closed in around you, their cold, unyielding presence reminding you just how alone you really were.

With a resigned sigh, you stepped through first, your footsteps heavy with exhaustion. Ashley and Chris followed close behind, their footsteps tentative but steady, grounding you in this surreal nightmare. The three of you, once a tight-knit group, now moved like ghosts through the labyrinth of the cabin. The air felt heavier with each step, thick with an unspoken dread.

But then, just as they crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them with a deafening bang. The sound echoed through the hallway, a jarring snap that made your heart lurch. The suddenness of it stole the breath from your lungs. You spun around, eyes wide, only to find the door locked tight, its cold, unrelenting surface mocking you.

"Oh my god!" Ashley screamed, her voice high and frantic, shattering the thick silence that had descended. Her breaths came in sharp, panicked gasps, and the fear in her eyes was palpable as she crumpled into herself, hands trembling as tears spilled freely down her face. She was full-on sobbing now, the weight of the unknown and the eerie sense of being trapped consuming her. Her cries echoed off the walls, but there was no comforting sound of the outside world to answer. Just the suffocating, pressing silence that seemed to be alive.

Chris, however, moved swiftly, his instincts kicking in. He stepped in front of you, his broad frame blocking you from the door with a quiet but unyielding force. His arm shot out in front of you as if to shield you from the danger that could be lurking on the other side, his body taut, muscles coiled with tension. His eyes flicked between you and the locked door, his face drawn tight with a grim determination that masked the fear lurking just beneath the surface.

"There's a fucking ghost down here, I knew it!" Ashley screamed, her voice cracking with a mix of hysteria and disbelief. Her hands were clasped tight against her chest, as though holding herself together against the terrifying unknown. She was shaking, her entire body trembling as her eyes darted around, desperate to find any sign of the supernatural presence she was so sure had trapped them in this nightmare.

For a split second, you considered her words. You weren't the type to believe in ghosts, but then... how the hell had that door slammed shut on its own? How had it locked from the inside, trapping the three of you in this strange, suffocating space with no way out? Your mind raced through a million possibilities, and yet, no explanation seemed to make sense.

"Ashley—" Chris tried again, his voice strained but firm, the edge of frustration creeping in. He reached out, his hand hovering near her shoulder, unsure whether to comfort or restrain her. Her screaming wasn't just shattering the air—it was splintering the fragile grip he had on his own nerves. Each frantic cry from her felt like an echo deep inside his chest, rattling him more than he wanted to admit.

"No!" Ashley shrieked, her voice cracking under the weight of her panic. "If there isn’t a ghost, then how did that door close?! We’re gonna die!" The words tumbled out of her in a wail, tears streaming down her face, unrelenting and raw. Her breath hitched between sobs, the sheer force of her terror spilling into every corner of the room, choking the air.

You couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pity for her. She looked utterly broken, unraveling before your eyes. But pity wouldn’t help find Sam. And as much as you understood her fear, the crying wasn’t getting you anywhere. If she kept spiraling, you’d be stuck in this nightmare all night.

"Ashley," you began, stepping closer to her, your voice as gentle as you could muster in the suffocating tension of the moment. Her sobs hiccupped as she looked up at you, her tear-streaked face contorted in fear.

"It’s okay," you said softly, your arms reaching out to steady her trembling frame. "We’ve seen some weird shit tonight, okay? I get it. Our brains are probably beyond fried at this point." Your hands rested lightly on her shoulders, the gesture meant to comfort, to ground her in something other than her spiraling thoughts.

She sniffled, her watery eyes locking onto yours as if searching for some reassurance that this wasn’t all as hopeless as it seemed. You could feel her trembling under your touch, the weight of her terror threatening to swallow her whole.

"Just take a few deep breaths with me, okay?" you urged, your voice steady but gentle as you guided her, mimicking slow, deliberate inhalations. Your hands remained firm on her shoulders, grounding her as her chest heaved in uneven gasps.

To be honest, you weren’t sure where this side of you had come from. Not even thirty minutes ago, you’d been the one crumpled on the floor, sobbing like the world had ended, barely able to keep yourself together. And now, somehow, you were the one holding someone else up, coaxing them away from the edge.

Ashley’s breathing began to slow, hitching less with every exhale. Her wide, panicked eyes softened just a bit, the raw fear dimming as she mirrored your pace. You weren’t sure if it was really helping her or if she was just following you out of desperation, but either way, you felt a flicker of relief. It was enough to keep going.

"That’s it," you murmured, a faint, almost wistful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "In and out, nice and easy. We’ve got this, Ashley. We’re okay."

She leaned into your touch, her trembling frame melting into yours as if your embrace was the only thing tethering her to reality. When you began rubbing soothing circles on her back, the gesture felt feeble to you—just another attempt to get everyone back on track, to focus on finding Sam and escape this endless nightmarish maze. But to Ashley, it was something else entirely.

To her, this moment was heaven, a brief reprieve from the terror that clawed at her every breath. In your arms, the world faded; the ghostly shadows and slamming doors were nothing but whispers in the background. If someone were to storm in right now and bash her skull in, she thought, absurdly, she wouldn’t mind. She could die like this—wrapped in your warmth, feeling safe for the first time all night. Her lifeless body would wear a wide grin, her frozen face a picture of twisted bliss for anyone to find.

You finally let go of Ashley, her reluctant whimper masked by the shuffle of your movements. Much to her dismay—and, judging by the subtle relaxation in his posture, Chris’s satisfaction—you stepped back, putting space between you. The moment your arms fell away from her, a shadow of disappointment flickered across Ashley’s tear-streaked face, though she quickly looked down, biting her lip to hide it.

Your gaze shifted to Chris, who stood stiffly nearby, silent but simmering. His clenched fists and rigid jaw betrayed the storm brewing beneath his quiet exterior. The dim light caught the sharpness in his eyes, a mixture of frustration and something more, something raw. You couldn’t quite name it, but it left a strange weight in the air, heavy and oppressive.

After a few moments of strained silence, where everyone seemed to gather what little composure they had left, the three of you pressed forward. The hallway stretched on, twisting and branching off into familiar paths. Each step echoed against the old wooden floor, the sound hollow and haunting, as if the house itself was swallowing your efforts.

You pushed through rooms with furniture cloaked in shadows, corners that seemed to stretch too deep, and corridors that played tricks on your eyes. Your voice grew hoarse from calling out Sam's name, the once-clear syllables now rasping, raw and broken. With each unanswered call, the hope you clung to thinned, fraying at the edges until it was nothing more than a fragile thread.

Ashley stayed close to your side, her fingers brushing yours now and then as though silently pleading for reassurance. Chris walked slightly ahead, his flashlight cutting sharp beams through the suffocating dark. The farther you went, the more the silence seemed to mock your desperation, a reminder of how little control you truly had.

A series of creaking doors led you into a pitch-black room, its oppressive silence broken only by the faint shuffle of your steps. The air felt heavier here, stagnant and stifling, as if the room itself resented your intrusion. The only illumination came from the flashlights clutched in your and Chris’s trembling hands, their beams cutting jagged slices through the darkness.

Sweeping your light across the space, your heart skipped when the beam landed on a lone chair facing the wall. It sat still, almost intentionally placed, and in it, a figure slumped unnaturally, their body limp as if abandoned by life itself. Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening instinctively on the flashlight as Ashley let out a shaky gasp behind you.

As you moved closer, your footsteps hesitant and deliberate, the details came into view. A leather jacket hung loosely on the figure, its edges catching the light. Your stomach twisted into a knot of recognition. It was the same jacket Sam had been wearing earlier.

“No... no, no, no,” the words fell from your lips in a fragile whisper, your mind racing to deny the possibility. But the figure remained motionless, a dreadful silence hanging in the room like a suffocating shroud.

With trembling hands and a heart pounding against your ribcage, you took a hesitant step forward, your flashlight flickering slightly as though the universe itself was toying with you. Without thinking, you reached out and spun the chair around, bracing yourself for whatever nightmare was waiting to greet you.

What stared back was far worse than anything you could have anticipated.

The figure wasn’t Sam. It wasn’t even alive. It was a dummy, its lifeless eyes painted to mimic your own. Its complexion matched yours with unsettling accuracy, as if someone had studied every inch of you with obsessive precision. The clothes draped over it were unmistakable—they had all belonged to you at some point.

Your chest constricted as you recognized each piece: the worn sweater you’d lost months ago, the scarf you hadn’t seen since last winter, the sneakers you’d thrown out after they became too battered to wear.

"What the hell is this?" Chris muttered behind you, his voice low and taut with unease.

Ashley’s expression hardened as her brows furrowed, her confusion mirroring your own. She didn’t let out the cry you half-expected; instead, her silence spoke volumes. She was trying to piece together the same puzzle you were, her wide eyes darting between the dummy and the clothes it wore.

"Is this supposed to be... you?" she asked finally, her voice low and unsteady.

Your breath hitched as the sound of heavy footsteps reached your ears, faint yet deliberate, cutting through the tense silence. Your eyes darted upward, the beam of your flashlight catching movement in the shadows.

There, standing at the edge of the room, was a masked figure. The dark contours of the mask made it impossible to discern any features, but the glint of the machete in their hand left no room for misinterpretation.

(A/N): Just to let you guys know, requests are open, feel free to send any in!

[jellykyunnie]

I saw your jinwoo Drabble about the two heartbeats and I raise you this: cuddling up to jinwoo one night and pressing your ear against his chest, trying to melt into him while listening to his heartbeats. You can’t see it, but his ears and neck are pink, a subtle blush he can’t contain. He’s delighted by your closeness and worried that you’d find his two hearts appalling. But you’re just nuzzling away, your fingers kissing adoration on any bare skin you could find, your lips whispering words of devotion and Jinwoo- every fraction of him: the weak, the strong, and the frightening Other- is suddenly so painfully in love with you.

Sung Jinwoo! Two Hearts x Gn! Reader: Twice To Love You More

a/n: I normally go by "first come, first serve" but I badly need Jinwoo comfort scenes that are in my head so aaaa. yes. ty anonnie for requesting this, my burnt out brain desperately needs this. I just need Jinwoo in general whEezE

TW !!! : Body Horror(?), Multiple Organs

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚���

・┆✦ Entry : 006 ✦ ┆・

﹢　˖    　✦      ¸ .　﹢　 ° 　¸.    ° ˖ ･ ·̩　　 ｡　☆.     　﹢　˖    　✦      ¸ .

He was anxious. Really anxious.

Once he felt you snuggle up to him, you hear his two hearts suddenly pound madly.

Jinwoo was so nervous that he could hear it drumming in his ears.

The lump on his throat kept moving. His hand was even stiff as it rested on your shoulder.

He doesn't say anything. Jinwoo doesn't know how to.

But when he saw your face, god your face, that beautiful face of yours...

That face of yours that is so delighted, so satisfied, so at home.

You're not frightened of him, not even the slightest.

It's a little confusing on his part really, after all... A human with two hearts, isn't it quite terrifying?

Jinwoo is considered as a monster with that.

But to you? No. He isn't.

Your Jinwoo is beautiful, even in his imperfections.

Even with the scars, the horrific slashes, those so called "Spoils Of Wars" of his many deaths and injuries.

Jinwoo is Perfect.

Slowly, slowly you can hear his hearts calm down. Creating a symphony that makes you melt.

Who knew that hearing two heartbeats at the same time could be so... Therapeutic?

His two hearts represented who he is as a person: One heart given to him at his birth, the heart that shows he is Sung Jinwoo, the Jinwoo that loves his family, the Jinwoo that is good and human. The other heart, a heart of black, representing his monstrosity, the heart that proves that he is the shadow monarch. The harbinger of destruction, the monarch slayer, the heart that is proof of his divinity.

Yet, in the same time, these hearts belonged to you.

Jinwoo has given up his existence to you. His purpose is to love you.

Two hearts just means there’s more of him for you to love.

More of him to dedicate to you.

His strength, his weakness, all of it is for you.

These two hearts beats for you.

All of him, may it be Sung Jinwoo, the Shadow Monarch— He is yours.

All that he is, you adore him.

How did he necome so lucky to have someone as innocent and loving as you?

His hearts churn, stirred at how you just love him despite the fact that he is not totally human anymore

”I love you.” Jinwoo mutters as he rubs his nose on your hair, inhaling your lovely scent.

Those three words may be simple, but those three words held a thousand words. Thousands of words dedicated to you.

The you who loves him no matter who he is, the you he wishes to cherish forevermore.

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[boyfhee]

ⵌㅤWHEEL OF ℱATEㅤ ੭୧ㅤ ( 엔하이픈 )

✉️ soulmates exist— but it's a matter of chance. so goes a tale as old as time, speaking of lovers destined by fate and separated by worlds. take a chance, spin the wheel, let the stars align to bring you to your fated one.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝓻ules !

001 follow me, optional but appreciated ^0^

002 for genre, since this is a surprise event, click on this link and spin the wheel. it's all fluff, i promise ( with one surprise angst ) the right button is for spinning !

003 comment “ joining : genre + member / unit / ot7 ” reblog and tag at least three active accounts

004 only text fics are allowed, for a change!!! adding tweets, insta stores / posts is allowed as well. you can write for one member or the whole group, write for units— your choice, but it should be a text fic.

005 all works should be sfw with warnings stated clearly. moderately suggestive texts / undertones / jokes, is allowed but explicit nsfw isn't. please be mindful of what you're writing when it comes to riki, and jungwon too, actually.

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⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ >< kisses to all those who are joining ^_^ i love text fics, i'm sure most of us do since they're a quick and fun read. also anyone can join, it really doesn't matter how big your account is— the more the merrier ! all the works will be linked in this post once posted :>

tips & resources ᐢᗜᐢ memimessage for texts and twinote for tweets. both apps are available for android and ios. the image limit on app is ten, however it's thirty on the web.

[butterscotchiie]

Drawing every Pokemon by Pokedex Number 006: Charizard

Charizard is all grown up and can fly all on his own without the help of Kirlia! Kirlia, however, still has some growing to do ;)

Apologies for the long break inbetween entries but im back in motion! This was also my first drawing in csp and I have finally left my toxic relationship with Procreate :D

[digi-lov]

Digimon 🤝 Pokémon

KoKabuterimon ST9-07 by GOSSAN from ST-9 Starter Deck Ultimate Ancient Dragon

Heracross PAL 006 by GOSSAN from Scarlet&VioletーPaldea Evolved

So. I don't like the idea that you can't be a fan of both Digimon and Pokémon. A while ago, I got an ask from a Pokémon fan asking how Digimon is any better than Pokémon, and I didn't really know how to answer that? I love both? I also like Yo-Kai Watch, by the way. You don't have to drag something down to elevate something else.

It does bother me that I sometimes get the feeling from certain kinds of Pokémon fans that they hate on Digimon, like it's their duty? I even had an argument with someone in real life who was convinced Digimon was a Pokémon rip-off, despite knowing nothing about Digimon in the first place.

But obviously, not all fans are like that, I'm a big Pokémon fan myself! I've played essentially all main line games and many side games. The Pokémon Special Manga was the first manga I read and is among my all-time favorites. I'm also active in my local Pokémon TCG community! I'm actually an official Pokémon TCG Judge, and I volunteer alongside my partner at our local card shops weekly "Pokémon School," where we teach children how to play the game. Although that sometimes also entails how to read cards, how to act respectful to your opponent, how to focus, what to look out for when building decks, how to tell if a card is fake, and much more...

That's another reason why I'm sad the Digimon Card Game only has an English language release in the West. Otherwise, I'd have introduced it to the kids already!

But yeah, I'm rambling a bit, my point being I don't want any hate, just love here. You don't have to like Pokémon. But it's definitely possible to like both.

So I wanna take a moment to show a couple of artists you know from the Digimon Card game who also like Pokémon!

Sanosuke Sakuma

Sanosuke Sakuma has been doing illustrations for the Digimon Card Game since the first set! Their strong point are cute characters, with most of their cards being of Baby Level Digimon (Lv.2) or Child Level Digimon (Lv.3). You can check out posts I did of their cards under #Sanosuke Sakuma

They also have been working as an illustrator for the Pokémon TCG since 2013 and have been working as character designer and illustrator for the main line Pokémon games since Pokémon Sun and Moon (2016).

GOSSAN

GOSSAN had been doing illustrations for the Digimon Card Game since BT-04 (2020) and have done over a hundred cards by this point. They're among the most likely artists to do game references and are very good at depicting action! Check out more of them under #GOSSAN

They also have been working as an illustrator for the Pokémon TCG since 2021 and already have a couple of Alternative Arts under their belt. Notably, they even got to illustrate the Alternative Art of Mewtwo Vstar, featuring it fighting Charizard, both of which are among the most popular Pokémon.

tessy

Tessy has been an illustrator for the Digimon Card Game since late 2020 and has been featured in almost every set since. Check out my posts featuring their cards under #tessy

While there is no Pokémon card featuring rheir art just yet, they entered and reached the semi-finals of the Pokémon TCG Illustration Contest 2022 with both their entries for Charizard and Bulbasaur.

Spareribs

Spareribs won second prize overall (and first for Devimon) of the Digimon Illustration Competition 2022 with their entry 「Fallen」. Ever since they've been working as an illustrator for the Digimon Card Game. You can see posts with their cards under #spareribs

They also entered the Pokémon TCG Illustration Contest 2022 and made it to the semi-finals with their entry for Greninja.

I hope we can all continue to share our passion for colorful critters. Thank you very much.

[ddrqoyote]

173 Influential SCPs

I went to SCPper, found the most upvoted articles by users who've made at least one SCP, and sorted by time. These aren't necessarily the 173 best articles on the site, but I think they're likely to be the most influential. Longtime fans have probably read most or all of these but maybe this could be a starting point for newcomers.

I think sorting by time is important because the Foundation's been around almost 17 years. Writers come and go, trends come and go, new writers are influenced by what came before, and later articles are often longer and more complex than earlier ones. Just sorting by most upvoted bounces you around time; on the main wiki you read mostly series 1 articles then get dunked into SCP-5000. I hope this is a more natural progression, and that by the end people have more context for what's going on.

Using upvotes from writers only is important because the more writers like an article, the more likely later SCPs are to be influenced by it, so those articles are more likely to be important for understanding the wiki as a whole.

I might do an alternate version of this list that replaces the extremely long articles with shorter SCPs.

If you have trouble understanding one of the articles (some of the later ones get LONG), look it up on r/SCPDeclassified. If you would prefer audio narration/explanations, The Exploring Series and TheVolgun are both excellent. And of course, make sure to look in the sidebar on the wiki for guides, lists and explanations.

SERIES IV AND LATER ARE IN REBLOGS DUE TO TUMBLR'S POST LIMIT

Series I Era

SCP-173 - The Sculpture - The Original

SCP-093 - Red Sea Object

SCP-294 - The Coffee Machine

SCP-682 - Hard-to-Destroy Reptile

SCP-055 - [unknown]

SCP-914 - The Clockworks

SCP-085 - Hand-drawn "Cassy"

SCP-184 - The Architect

SCP-231 - Special Personnel Requirements

SCP-990 - Dream Man

SCP-999 - The Tickle Monster

SCP-835 - Expunged Data Released

SCP-701 - The Hanged King's Tragedy

SCP-586 - Inscribable Object

SCP-610 - The Flesh that Hates

Log of Anomalous Items Vol I

SCP-087 - The Stairwell

SCP-049 - Plague Doctor

Revised Entry

Document Recovered from the Marianas Trench

SCP-426 - I am a Toaster

SCP-096 - The "Shy Guy"

SCP-106 - The Old Man

SCP-140 - An Incomplete Chronicle

Kill 682

SCP-001-Bright - The Factory

SCP-666-J - The Roaring Flames of Hell

SCP-895 - Camera Disruption

SCP-5308-J - The Collection

SCP-8900-EX - Sky Blue Sky

black white black white black white black white black white gray

Eldritch Application

Nobody Knows

SCP-871 - Self-Replacing Cake

SCP-001-Mann - The Spiral Path

Series II Era

SCP-1000 - Bigfoot

SCP-902 - The Final Countdown

SCP-993 - Bobble the Clown

Transcript of Dr. Clef's seminar, "Reality Benders and You: How to Survive When Existence Doesn't."

SCP-001-Swann - The Database

Bees

SCP-006-J - WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING

10:30 A.M.

Ethics Committee Orientation

SCP-1959 - The Lost Cosmonaut

SCP-____-J - Procrastinati

SCP-1048 - Builder Bear

SCP-001-EX-J - Records of the CKG Gathering

SCP-1893 - The Minotaur's Tale

SCP-1983 - Doorway to Nowhere

SCP-1733 - Season Opener

SCP-1230 - A Hero is Born

SCP-1322 - Glory Hole

SCP-1370 - Pesterbot

SCP-1193 - Buried Giant

SCP-1545 - Larry the Loving Llama

SCP-1981 - "RONALD REAGAN CUT UP WHILE TALKING"

SCP-even number-J - An [Adjective] [Animal]

SCP-1867 - A Gentleman

SCP-1609 - The Remains of a Chair

SCP-1440 - The Old Man from Nowhere

SCP-1425 - Star Signals

SCP-1173 - The Islamic Republic of Eastern Samothrace

SCP-1171 - Humans Go Home

SCP-1678 - UnLondon

UIU Orientation

SCP-1437 - A Hole to Another Place

SCP-1958 - Magic Bus

Quiet Days

Why Change?

SCP-186 - To End All Wars

Treats

SCP-348 - A Gift from Dad

SCP-1295 - Meg's Diner

SCP-1342 - To the Makers of Music

SCP-1504 - Joe Schmo

The Executions of Doctor Bright

SCP-1471 - MalO ver1.0.0

The Young Man

wowwee go kill ursefl