#I... need... to... control... myself..... (struggling)

[theotherrookie]

"Variety is good!" And Erica appreciated that she was being humored. Most people started questioning her logic and that was very much not the point.

"I have noticed that mistakes are sometimes necessary in order to learn." Willow replied, "I almost lost my brothers once and that served as a reminder that family can't simply be cast aside until your earliest convenience, or managed like another company asset."

It used to be easier to do so when it was still just the five of them. But even with the facility and the children to look after, they still tried to make time to be together even for just a meal.

The shadows were dispelled once the crane was gone, leaving Erica free to have a closer look at the scattered belongings in case there was something unsafe to handle. It turned out her hunch was right

"...Oh no." She raised her hands, motioning to keep a safe distance. "Don't touch these tools! There's Ratchet's smell on them."

It was only fair everybody would know. Erica then shoved some notes aside and snatched a car key off the table. Now they could steal Five's car in a funnier way than feeding it to the void.

Willow quietly retrieved a box to store the books they were taking. They were going to the same place as the car, but half of the entertainment for Rook was digging into the pile for anything of interest. Presentation did indeed matter.

Lucien gladly drew his baseball bat and joined Russell. He aimed for a row of vials still waiting to be filled, then took a moment to savor the feeling.

"I know he will buy another one, but this feels great."

He almost felt like he could breath a little better.

Rook made to climb off Bill's back once they reached the roof, moving carefully so her spikes would not ruin his outfit. She took a moment to check their surroundings, before looking back at him.

"It's not much. I just..." She let out a tired sigh, "I've always been worried of losing control and hurting those around me and it's been hard to even look at Five. He's all those things and he likes it. He made it too real."

Rook trailed off as the memories of her time under Five's influence threatened to resurface.

"...But at the same time, it made me feel better." she then added, "Because I know what went wrong with him and know what to watch out for and I... just needed to say it out loud. I might still not be nice to myself in the future, but I feel a bit better for now."

She didn't dare adding that she felt a bit bad for Five as well, not after everything he had done. For now, a promise that she would try not resenting herself for being what she was as much would suffice.

Veronica was glad to see Frosty wasn't trying to fight back as they tended to him. He didn't do as much as flinch when he was sprayed and raise a hand to shield his face. That alone was a struggle in his current state. The best he could hope for was to pass out and not have to endure for as long as he could whatever they were really planning for him.

"Well, a cup of my special tea is in order, but we should wait a few more hours for that. His abilities have been tampered with enough, we would risk causing permanent damage." Veronica replied, "The best we can do right now is tending to his physical injuries."

Toxins aside, Frosty was going to feel very sore from the beating he took before going berserk.

"For now, though, sleep is the best medicine for him. Would you mind tending to that, Antonio? Erika told me that's a specialty of yours."

"Yes! And maybe a telemarketer too!"

Willow decided not to question how Erica planned to recognize such a person in the wild. It was always wise not to get in the way of her vengeful plots.

"Well, I must treasure the experiences of my older siblings." Willow replied, before adding, "Or that of a twin."

It was nice to hear Simon speak fondly of Truman. The brothers trying to get along was especially heartwarming, considering the horrid adults they had to live with while growing up. Willow hoped the future would keep looking up for all of them.

Her train of thought was disturbed by Lucien's laugh when he was hugged again. She really couldn't recall him ever being that happy. But with someone like Russell as a partner, it wasn't surprising.

"You are forgiven." Lucien replied softly, "Let's go commit some property damage."

"We could do that! I missed out on a lot of movies, so it shouldn't be hard to pick one." Erica smiled as the crane started sinking into the abyss, "Well, I guess we'll just have to find the keys. I really hope it wasn't in his pockets though."

"It wouldn't be such a loss. Red muscle cars are statically a sign of the early onset of midlife crisis." Willow noted, following after Erica.

"Does it mean we should repaint it before we let Antonio drive it?"

"We should do so regardless." Willow replied, "Then I will fabricate the necessary documents."

While this hideout wasn't as organized as the previous one, there was still enough equipment lying around to confirm that Five and his thugs had been camping out there for a while. Other than his car, his brewing kit had been left behind, along with a modest collection of books. Some tomes were rather old, while others were most recent editions.

Either way, none of it really caught Erica's attention, who was more fond of shiny things. Lucien, on the other hand, knew where to start from with his task.

"I just know where we should start from." he said, while pointing at the kit. That accursed brewery of horrors had to go.

Rook made sure to hold on tight as well as they ascended. Without the adrenaline and the heat of the fight keeping her distracted, she was suddenly awfully aware of how high up they were.

The task at hand was simple enough, though. So she felt like that was a good time for a chat. "Hey, Bill. There's something I'd like to talk about..."

Frosty stopped his pitiful escape when he heard voices around him. He let out an annoyed grunt when he was grabbed, but otherwise didn't have enough fight left in him to make himself a problem. Not when he couldn't even stand upright without the room spinning around him.

Veronica's eyes turned red and she immediately took note of the ice mage's paleness, along with his rather absent look. Frosty was awake, but he was likely experiencing a major case of brain fog. They'd have to be gentle with him. Even the slightest stress could aggravate his conditions.

"Well, he mainly needs to rest, but I'd rather keep an eye on him for a few hours. There is no telling how his body will recoil from Five's drugs and the draining." the ghost lady said, before spraying Frosty with a potion that vaguely smelled like rosemary and thyme, "This is just to make him safe to handle, in case the snake's poison has some delayed effects we don't know about."

Frosty only briefly raised his head for a moment, mumbling a complain before he finally found his words. "...not going home. They don't want me."

[bragginball-z]

Hi guys, this is an excerpt from one of my current WIPs! The basic premise of this fic is that Cas was given a journal by the Winchesters in order to have something to help him keep busy while they sleep. Each one of his entries gives a deeper look into his views on some of my favorite destiel scenes. This entry in particular takes place after the events of “Goodbye Stranger” in which Castiel nearly kills Dean due to Naomi’s mind control. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoy reading it! >:D

A Love Letter to Humanity

———————————————————————

March 27th, 2013

I almost killed Dean. I felt his flesh tensing and giving as my knuckles met his supple skin. I felt the fibers of his body I so tenderly knitted back together split and ooze blood beneath my hands. In my mind I heard Naomi’s words, frantic and demanding as she ordered for me to just do it. I felt the cold metal of my blade rest securely in my palm as I readied myself to deliver the finishing blow. And then I heard him. Dean. I heard his voice. Not the crude imitation Naomi conjured thousands of times. She never could get his cadence right. The deep timbre in his voice overly done or completely vacant. No, the moment I heard him I knew it was actually him

Dean asked me what broke the connection, what snapped me out of my Naomi induced mind control. At the time I said I didn't know. I alluded to the possibility of the angel tablet being responsible for my mental clarity. But now, as I channel my thoughts and I write, reliving every second of that moment, I know exactly what broke the connection. Dean did. The upset in his voice as he stubbornly encouraged my violence turned into a somber tone at his realization that I wasn’t in control of what I was doing. The helplessness, the fear in his voice grounding me and yanking Naomi's hooks from where they had been deeply implanted into my mind. “This isn't you, Cas,” he had said so confidently. So saddened and sure that the Castiel he knows would never hurt him like this. That I would never cause him so much pain and suffering. Even after all the times I have wronged him, disappointed and lied to him, he still believed with the utmost certainty that I would never kill him of my own volition. That I would never betray myself him in such a way. Not if I was of a sound mind. As I hurt him I felt at war with myself. I was aware of what my vessel was doing but I had no say in the matter. Each time I tried to resist Naomi pulled the reins tighter, my control over my vessel slipping from my grasp at each rough yank. Through this entire struggle Dean spoke to me. He called me part of his family, said they all needed me. The way my name sounded coming from his bloodied and broken mouth haunts me. Like a vengeful spirit it surrounds me and makes me feel cold and on-edge. It reminds me of how many times he said it, how each time he sounded more fearful and defeated. I was not in control, no matter how much I wanted to be. Then he said he needed me. Not Sam, not Kevin, Not the world. Just him. Dean. And just as quickly as those words penetrated my ears I was back in control. As simply as that.

“I need you, Cas.”

I need you. In all my billions upon billions of years alive I have never felt things- emotions, as strongly as when those words pierced my true ears. I need you. Suddenly, terrifyingly, I was aware. It was as if a haze had been lifted from my mind. I could see again with painful clarity. I could see Dean before me, on his knees and pleading, one arm raised in a look of surrender or acceptance. He has never been a man of faith, not like Sam, but seeing him like that reminded me of a most pious man helplessly praying to a cruel god. I have never seen Dean like that. Yes, I've seen him beaten, bloody, defeated, and helpless, but I’ve never seen him so desperate.

His father molded him into a thing to be wielded, an instrument only meant to cause harm; (something I vehemently disagree with but I digress) so why didn't he try and kill me? Yes, I am stronger than him, there is no question about that, but time and time again I have watched Dean fight beings far more powerful than me and walk away victorious. I do believe we have a more profound bond but I feel it’s probably one sided. He has changed me, just in the few years I’ve known him. But I don’t believe I have changed him. Even as I did something as foreignly intimate as rebuilding him and mending his soul, I took care to not change a single thing about him. My higher ups instructed me to do some “minor tweaking” as I rebuilt him. Originally, I had planned to. Truly, I had. But then I touched his soul and I saw him in all his glory. The righteous man. Dean Winchester. My grace swelled and surged all around me, within me, through Dean, and the result was my handprint forever seared into the very essence of his soul. Perhaps I did change him. Physically, without meaning to. I never intended to brand him, to leave a mark of proof that it was me who saved him. But I did. My finely honed powers that never once acted erratically were instantly and overwhelmingly out of my control the moment I laid a hand on him. And from there I only spun more out of control. The worst thing that could happen to an angel started happening to me so gently and unobtrusively that I didn’t notice until it was far too late. I started to feel.

I felt when he said it. I felt so much.

I need you.

Never in my existence have I ever been made so keenly aware of someone's longing. Dean always has a constant feeling of yearning to his soul. Even as I write this I can sense it. A quiet and aching pining that brushes against my grace like a gentle hum of a motor or the purr of a cat. In that moment, however, it was utterly overwhelming. It felt like my grace was aflame. The moment those words fell from his bloodied mouth it was like a dam broke. An eruption of even more emotions and feelings, some I can recognize and others I can’t seem to place engulfed me whole. It was like I was submerged in water and roughly breaching the surface simultaneously. I felt my blade slip from my fingers as the weight of the situation, of Dean’s words, of Naomi’s tampering, finally dawned on me.

Naomi asked me, “Us, or them?” but I know what she was implying. It was the same question countless of my other brothers and sisters asked; “Are we worth giving up for him?”

Yes, you are. Anything is.

Perhaps if I was braver, or maybe slightly more stupid, that’s what I would have said. I act as if saying it is what makes it true. My actions speak loudly enough, they confirm every suspicion and accusation my siblings have about me. It has been proven time and time again, no matter the circumstances, I will always choose him. I know it will be my downfall but I just can't seem to stop myself. No other being matters when I know he’s there. He will always be my priority.

As I sit here and write this I realize Meg is gone. I was too caught up in my selfish musings to take a moment to reflect on that fact. I was quite fond of the demon, for some reason. Maybe it was her charm; sharp tongued and quick witted like someone else that’s disastrously dear to me. Her vessel was attractive as well, from an aesthetics viewpoint. She had nice hair, a vindictive and cocky smile, and a presence that was uniquely her. I think my memories of her will always remain mostly fond. Although, when I think of her an odd feeling settles in my stomach sometimes. I think of the way she indulged me, let me kiss her on a whim, and always had suggestive remarks that made me feel oddly flattered. But when I think of her death… It doesn't sadden me nearly as much as it should. I enjoyed her company, in a nontraditional sort of way, but I don’t grieve her. It is odd knowing I will never see her again, but her death won’t haunt me. I’ll be able to go on with my life, the world will keep turning, more people will die. I just can’t seem to bring myself to miss her. Selfishly, when I think back to that night, when memories surface and I’m overtaken by reliving the past I only see one thing; Dean. I feel cruel and biased but it’s the truth. He is on my mind constantly often. I hope that by writing this out it will help me “work through my feelings” as Sam once put it. Though what there is to “work through” I’m not entirely sure. What I did was unforgivable. What I almost did to the man I Dean, is a sin of no equal. Yes, I was able to heal him with my grace. His contusions taken away and broken bones mended as if he was never hurt to begin with. But I know the truth. Dean knows the truth. Even though he has no physical blemishes or wounds to remind him of what happened, the true damage I’ve done rests far below the surface. Bone deep and embedded into his very being, the hurt I inflicted resides within him. Fractured, shaken, and betrayed. An open wound far beyond what I’m capable of healing. All I can hope for is that even if it lingers it doesn’t fester. That it doesn’t feed on the familial feelings of friendship Dean holds for me. That the wound doesn’t gape so wide open that it swallows whole all of the care I have for him. Now that I know Dean, consider him my friend, my family, it’s hard to imagine what I would do with my time if he wasn’t in my life. I rebelled for him, died for him, killed my own kin just to ensure his well being. In these past years my actions have been reliant on the effect they’d have on Dean. This isn’t to say all of these actions have worked out in the ways I've wanted. No, most of them have failed quite terribly. Regardless, a selfish part of me still hopes Dean can see the reasons behind my actions, see that my intentions are always well meaning.

“I need you, Cas.” Dean had said so earnestly, so full of meaninging, so achingly human. Through his humanity he gave me a gift I never knew I wanted; purpose. I feel like my existence has meaning when I’m around him, when I’m able to help his cause. Slowly, through observing Dean’s actions and hearing his opinions, I feel more for the world around me than I ever have before. Feelings that make me gaze more appreciatively at the humans that live on this little planet. With him, I feel what I imagine it is like to be human. Now that I know what feeling is like, I’m afraid I’ll never be the same. I’m afraid of what I’d feel if I knew Dean hated me.

I don’t know what else to say, I have too much on my mind and I can’t pick out any more cohesive sentences from my jumbled thoughts. When Sam and Dean first gave me this journal they told me that when I ran out of things to say, that was the signal it was time to stop writing. I guess the fact I’m an ancient being with an insurmountable amount of knowledge and experiences doesn't quite register with them. Either way, these journal entries have to end somewhere, lest I run out of space, and an inability to articulate my countless thoughts is probably my “cue” to “wrap things up”. The last thing I’ll say is what has been repeating in my mind, silencing my other thoughts with the sheer amount of feeling behind it ever since the words failed to escape my lips:

I need you too, Dean.

[heavenescent]

⋆˚꩜｡ june: monthly goals & how to achieve them

summer is officially here. there's no more time anticipating the deadline of bikini/glow-up season, and it came a lot faster than you thought. personally, i just finished my first year of uni and it went by quicker than i would've ever expected! i took a week to relax, but now it's time to pick myself back up. here's my top 3 monthly goals for june & some tips:

--------------------------------

--------------------------------

GOAL ONE: get back to the gym!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

i've been recovering from some pretty bad hip, back, and knee injuries from a car crash a little over a year ago, but i'm cleared now to go back to the gym! my body is the weakest it's ever been right now, so i've been getting back into being active by taking outdoor walks, not too difficult hikes, and gentle bodyweight exercises when i have the time. even at the gym, i take things easy by going on the elliptical (mainly to alleviate pressure on my knee) and stick to cardio. once i get my new car in a week, i'm excited to have the freedom to go to the gym again! i'lll be sure to blog about my fitness journey too!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for you?

being disciplined does not mean that you need to be depriving yourself of care. it's so easy to get sucked into toxic motivation and put your all at first, and then lose momentum because you wasted all your energy in the first couple weeks, or even days. i know the advice "be realistic with your goals" is pretty overused, so i like to say, "be firm, but be kind." if your body can't take it, there is no shame in taking a step back. don't be ashamed to let yourself rest, especially when getting started, or starting again. routines should be built to last, and you should not feel like death when you have to stick to them. understand that struggling with change is one thing, but struggling to live in that change is another.

if you feel awful about missing out on getting the summer body for this season, don't fret. even if there isn't realistically enough time to reach your goals, getting started now will feel infinitely better than continuing to push it off. aim to get those 10k steps a day to the best of your efforts. exercising isn't just something that keeps you fit physically, but it truly keeps you fit mentally as well. if you've got a case of summertime sadness, try listening to music or an audiobook on a calm walk. if you can't walk outside or on a machine, just keep yourself on your feet or moving your hands. learning a skill is a great way to stay active, both with your body and your mind.

i'll hopefully be making a complete beginner's guide to the gym soon, because it truly is the best once you get over that initial anxiety. i'll also make a guide to exercising at home in various settings, either living with parents, in an apartment, or with other roommates.

GOAL TWO: cut down on mindless screen time!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

i won't lie... i think i'm one of the worst people i know in regards to screen time and phone usage. and i am ASHAMED of that fact. i used to think phone addiction would never affect me, but i spend nearly every free moment i have on a screen, mindlessly scrolling or consuming brainless, meaningless content. when unpacking the things i brought home from my dorm, i noticed i had a serious problem when instead of putting on music like i would normally do, i struggled to find an enticing enough youtube video to put on in the background. i was subconsciously afraid of being left alone with my own thoughts; i needed something in the background to narrate a controlled train of thought for me on a predetermined topic. in short, not good. for this month, i want to be more mindful of the time i spend online. i started this blog primarily to deal with this issue, and to keep myself accountable by having a place to track my habits. i also just really enjoy journaling and writing, and having a blog is already so therapeutic. instead of doomscrolling, i'll find physical media to interact with, or find knowledge on attaining my aspirations.

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

everyone seems to be so attached to their phones, but the way you use your social media is different. you aren't just doomscrolling with no purpose, you're finding tips on improving yourself, or inspiration on new ways to upgrade your personal style. all of this is fine, but the key word in this monthly goal is mindless. if anything, the goal should read: be more mindful about your screen time. be aware that even consuming positive content, such as scrolling through #self improvement can still reach a point of overconsumption. so then, what does it mean to be mindful? well, i think it's a little different for everyone, as most things are.

on one hand of the extreme, no one should ever be spending more than 12 hours a day on social media. on the other hand, i understand why some people can't justify spending less than an hour being on their phone. lifestyles are just too different to be offered a one-size-fits-all solution. so, instead of giving my own unjustified advice, i'd like to recommend a book i read recently:

Digital Minimalism: Choosing a Focused Life in a Noisy Digital World by Cal Newport

to be blunt: this book was incredibly eye-opening, and provides so much more context and solutions to achieving a healthy, balanced relationship and life with your electronics than i can try to muster in one tumblr post. i really cannot recommend this book enough, especially for those of you angels that want to live more presently, without the shackles of algorithms fighting to keep your attention.

GOAL THREE: get closer to finding the real you!

.ᐣ - what does this mean for me?

this is the most abstract goal on this list, and quite fitting for the last of the three main goals of the month. in a world with so much emphasis on finding what makes you individually unique, yet also finding the group or label that fits with that individuality, i have struggled to find something that is truly, authentically myself. over the years, i've come to accept that all the past, present, and future versions of myself (or who i think myself to be) are all me. but even with this in mind, i can't help but feel something nagging deep inside my soul that knows i'm not being authentically true to myself. outside of all the trends and niches, who am i? another reason why i started this blog is to really explore the intricacies of my entire personality, both what i appreciate about myself and what i need to work on improving. i hope that being consistent in my blogging, reflecting, and interacting with others helps me see my genuine interests and characteristics in a relatively anonymous space. please perceive me!

.ᐣ what does this mean for you?

i don't feel all that qualified in giving real advice for this, since it is genuinely just the blind leading the blind here, but i will leave some questions/advice that have helped me be more introspective:

if you were to die tomorrow, what would you be most proud of? you can't be negative or self-deprecating, be genuine. what good have you left in the world? amongst your family and friends, who would remember the impact you have left, and what would they say about it? i promise that even if you think there's absolutely nothing, there is something. think hard, and be kind to yourself.

describe yourself in 3 words, now describe the 3 defining characteristics of what you aspire to be like. how much of an overlap is there? how do your current defining characteristics connect with your desired characteristics? make note of how similar or different they are, and regardless of which it is, find the similarities in them anyways.

look through some pictures of yourself throughout the years. what are the common themes between your past and current aesthetics? even if they seem like they couldn't be any more different, find at least one similarity. the similarity could very well just be that they're popular or trendy at the time. take note of these similarities, and reflect on what this means you're drawn to.

i know these questions all seem pretty different and quite random, but really reflect on all your answers. and i mean reflect. write it down on paper, think it through, jot down all the thoughts as you ponder over each answer. thinking it inside your brain and getting it all down on paper are completely different, and being able to visually see what troubles you grounds you enough to think everything through more. thoughts can very easily get muddled and jumbled up in your head. get them out and reflect on them for the month. no matter what conclusions you come to, use them for good.

--------------------------------

--------------------------------

i'll be sure to figure out a way to improve this really blocky formatting, but thank you for reading! i wish you all the best of luck!

love, kate

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

so ur able to go visit ur partner who lives in a different state but u can’t work ?

I’m going to be honest anon I feel like this is a tricky one to answer because whatever I say might just be made to look like I’m making excuses and I even go through lots of times of thinking am I even mentally ill enough to be on the dsp ? Am I being a bad person for this ? Are others more deserving of this than I am? Others work while being mentally ill so why can’t I?

But nonetheless I’ll do my best to explain myself.

So yeah I can visit my gf by myself and go to another state. It’s something that normally takes a lot of emotional effort on my part and at the minimum a week of mental preparation for. But I can do it.

My main mental illnesses, in my opinion, they making working so difficult is my OCD and my PTSD. My eating disorder, depression etc definitely make things difficult and greatly affect other areas of my life but those two have such a grip on how I interact with the world that currently I feel like they make it the hardest and prevent me from working enough on my other illnesses to get to the point of working.

Most of my OCD is very harm based (to put it broadly ) and it’s very distressing and hard to interact with the general public when my brain is constantly telling me I’m hurting people. I visit my gf but I’m inside most of the time when I do. I’m not like going out everyday or anything. I’m just sleeping most of the time.

I’ve definitely made progress with my ptsd , especially since dating my gf, but my ptsd was so bad at one point that when I was in hospital the psychiatrist diagnosed me with agoraphobia. Not being in places I deem my safe space is still hard sometimes.

I’ve worked hard to get to the point where I can look more “normal” when interacting with people for periods of time but to put it bluntly in just genuinely messed in the head like I’m not well. Im doing what I can but everyday is still a massive struggle for me. I have weekly appointments with a psychologist, recovery coach and support worker. I need a lot of assistance for certain things and just maintaining a since of routine because my depression can get so bad that I’ll go very long periods without washing myself. I need that extra help because I can be pretty useless about it.

I can travel to see my gf because that’s something that’s a few one off things I can prepare for. It’s not the same as working multiple days a week. Don’t get me wrong , I want that. I want it so badly to get to the point where I can work and I’m not suffering from depersonalisation and derealisation and running into everything because my brain is fried. I want to get to the point where I’m not having hour long hyperventilation panic attacks at 3 in the morning because my ocd is hitting me over the head and I have a healthy relationship with food and I’m not triggered and I’m not dreaming off death everyday. I want that. I really do and even if it doesn’t look like it I truly am trying my best to get myself to that point. I hate having to tell people I’m not working. I hate feeling so controlled by my brain and not being able to chase my passions and hobbies because I’m fried.

And I do think I have a chance of getting there one day. If I keep working hard I think I might. But it’s not going to be today.

I mean part of the reason I started collecting lgbt stuff and posting it on here is because I wanted to vibe myself something I could work towards and something that felt a little little work so I could build up skills and feel accomplished. I’m so ashamed that I’m not working at almost 26. I’m ashamed I’m too mentally ill to learn how to drive. I’m ashamed I don’t have anything to show for myself. I’m ashamed I’ve dropped out of everything since high school. This isn’t what I want my life to be but I won’t get anywhere denying my reality and my reality is my head is fucked lol. Obviously I have my own forms of trauma that got me here but I genuinely believe I would be in a similar position even if I didn’t have those because it’s just how my head is.

Anyway this turned into a tangent.

But I can promise I’m trying the best I can.

I hope you have a nice day.

[allaboutthedongs]

Tease | 18+

☆ Pairing: GOT7 Jinyoung x Female reader

☆ Genre: smut

☆ Word count: 1.6 k

☆ Warnings: teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, masturbation, power play, just porn with a plot, tbh.

☆ Prompt: "A dangerous dance of lust, power, and delicious punishment. And yes, he fell...hard. The wicked part? He fucking loved it."

The air was heavy with something unspoken. Something magnetic. And I knew he felt it too.

The dull scratch of my pen across the paper ceased as it slipped from my fingers and hit the tiled floor with a muted clink. I felt his gaze before I even looked—searing, low, deliberate. Lifting my eyes, I glanced toward him through my lashes, and sure enough, Jinyoung was watching me from a desk close to mine. His dark eyes burned into mine with a quiet, unwavering hunger, a smirk ghosting over his lips as if he already knew what I was about to do.

I rose slowly, deliberately, circling to the far side of the desk with measured steps that made the hem of my skirt sway just slightly. With my back to him, I bent forward at the waist to retrieve the pen, arching more than necessary. My blouse lifted, the curve of my lower back peeking out. I stayed like that for a breath longer than needed—just enough to feel the air shift around us.

When I turned to look over my shoulder, Jinyoung was biting his bottom lip, jaw tight, eyes narrowed. That restraint on his face—raw and struggling—ignited something deep inside me. I loved this game. I loved watching his control fray at the edges, knowing I was the one tugging at every thread.

I sat back down in my seat, tracing the tip of the pen slowly along my lower lip before letting it rest between my teeth. I could almost hear the crack in his composure.

"Give up the charade," Jinyoung murmured, his voice smooth and low, intimate in a way that made the rest of the room fall away. The other students, the hum of conversation, the ticking clock... all dissolved under the weight of his presence behind me.

Warm breath grazed the side of my neck a moment later, close, so close I could smell the subtle citrus and cedar of his cologne. He wasn’t touching me. Not yet. Just waiting. Testing. Jinyoung made his way to the door of the classroom as casually as if he were heading to the vending machine; his eyes locked with mine, commanding me to follow.

I waited just long enough not to be obvious, then stood and excused myself to the bathroom. My pulse pounded in my ears as I stepped out into the hallway, my fingers moving to unfasten the top buttons of my blouse, slowly, deliberately. I wanted him to see that I was in charge of this. All of it.

The corridor was quiet, bathed in the golden spill of late afternoon sun, looked almost sacred, like sunlight blessing sin. I walked slowly, listening... waiting for a sign. I passed the door of an empty classroom when a hand gripped my wrist, firm but not painful, pulling me inside and spinning me around. Jinyoung slammed my chest into the wall, his body aligned with mine, the heat of him pressing into my back as his lips brushed the shell of my ear.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, fingers curling around my wrists and pinning them lightly to the cool wall. "Always teasing. Always knowing exactly what you're doing."

His tone was sharp silk, accusatory and amused, heat curling around every word.

I tilted my head, exposing more of my throat to him. "And yet... you love it," I whispered back. My heart pounded incessantly against my chest; the adrenaline of the situation surging throughout my desperate body. A soft groan rumbled in his throat as he released one of my hands and let the other linger, grounding me while his free hand slid down my thigh, up under my skirt, until it brushed the edge of my underwear. His movements were careful, measured, checking in with every inch. "Feels good?" he asked against my jaw. "Yeah..." I whispered. Tilting my head towards his, I lapped my wet tongue along his full lips as his fingers lingered between my legs. He jerked my underwear to the side, exposing my swollen, hot, sensitive cunt to the cool air of the room, driving my need into something raw and unrelenting. I hissed as he brushed his finger gently over my clit and all over my slit, spreading the wetness over my folds; my knees losing all stability within seconds. Then, his fingers ceased their motion, and he pressed his hips firmly into my butt; his cock thick and twitching against me.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked, voice ragged against my neck. I nodded, speechless. I thought that I had a hold over him; never did I think that my body would so willingly succumb to Jinyoung. “I asked you a question.” His voice was soft yet assertive as he pulled my face abruptly towards his. He slowly slid his index finger inside of me, pressing heavily against my G-spot, making my cunt clench.

I turned my head to him, lips trembling, “Yes… yes, please.” My hips rocking instinctively along Jinyoung’s long finger, wanting to feel more. He spun me around again, mouth crashing onto mine, fingers tangled in my hair as he kissed me hard, deep... like he couldn’t get close enough. We stumbled backward toward the desk, and I half-laughed, half-moaned as he lifted me effortlessly and set me on the edge. He tugged at my tie, loosening it, then pulled it off entirely as his mouth moved down to my collarbone, sucking just enough to leave a mark. My blouse was next pushed aside to reveal the lace bra he’d been dying to touch, judging by the way his eyes had lingered all afternoon. Jinyoung undid his belt quickly, his hands practiced, movements fluid. I should’ve felt vulnerable like that, spread open, exposed... but all I felt was power, and hunger. He groaned as he slid against me, teasing. I could feel every inch of him, hot and hard. And when he finally pushed in, slowly, deeply, we both gasped.

He didn’t rush at first. He held my gaze. He wanted to watch me feel every inch of him. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He groaned as he struggled to pick up a steady rhythm.

My hands reached under his shirt and fervently explored his toned torso. I tried to wrap my legs around his waist to pull him in deeper, but he quickly pushed them away, holding my legs on either side of him as he took complete control. His eyes frantically shifted over my body as he dug his fingers into my thighs and pulled me to the edge of the desk for an even better angle. His thrusts became faster, harder, desperate. Despite my whines and pleas, he kept driving himself into me relentlessly. “You feel incredible,” he whispered, eyes closed in pleasure. The pleasure built fast, my body arching toward him, nails digging into his back as the waves rolled higher and higher. “Fuck, I’m so close.” My voice was barely audible through the strangled moans that were escaping my throat. I desperately needed to straighten my legs, but his hold was too strong, forcing me to absorb every ounce of pleasure that he was giving me. An intense heat began to build up inside of me as my muscles tensed and began to quiver; my nails digging in desperately to Jinyoung’s forearms and almost breaking the skin as they did so. “Yeah, I can feel it.” he stated smugly as I squirmed. I was hot; blood coursing frantically through me as an all-consuming pleasure began to take hold. My orgasm was imminent, and it was going to take me down hard. I braced myself; my knuckles turning white as I gripped onto the edge of the desk tightly. The orgasm slammed into the edge of my consciousness, but before I could fall into it... Smirking down at me, he pulled out. Just like that. Gone. Leaving me spread-legged and trembling, suspended in a cruel limbo of heat and ache as he pumped his shaft back and forth a few times. But before he could even finish stroking himself, I sat up, eyes burning into his with a slow, wicked smile. He thought he was breaking me. Poor boy. He hadn’t even seen me unhinged yet... I reached for his cock with one hand, curling my fingers around it as I pressed my lips to his ear.

"You think you’re the one in control?" I whispered, my breath warm, my voice velvety. "You wish you’d earned the privilege to finish inside me." With a slow twist of my wrist and a perfectly timed stroke, I made him come hard. His gasp was raw, his body convulsing as he spilled hot cum all over my bare stomach and thighs. He staggered forward, bracing himself on the desk beside me, breathless and wrecked.

I dipped my finger in his release and traced a slow, lazy circle over my stomach, watching his eyes darken again with renewed hunger as I brought my finger seductively to my mouth, tasting him.

Then I hopped off the desk, legs still shaking but chin high, my power radiating in every step. I grabbed his tie to wipe off some of his cum, buttoned up my blouse with no rush, let my fingers trail down my tie, and tightened it with a smirk.

“You look so cute when you think you're in control", I murmured, brushing past him, lips grazing his jaw. "But next time, think twice before trying to play MY game."

I opened the classroom door, stepped into the golden hush of the empty hallway, and walked away without looking back, leaving him there, dazed, undone, and entirely mine. I didn’t need to look back at him. He'd be thinking about me for days. Maybe forever.

Hi, besties! This is my first piece after being away from this platform for quite a while. If you liked what you just read, it would mean a lot if you gave it a like, reposted it, or left me a comment. If you have any suggestions, feedback, or requests for me, my inbox is always open. Also, if you'd like me to tag you in my upcoming posts, just let me know! Love you all so much — thank you for taking the time to read, and I truly hope you enjoyed it! 💛

[dreams-inbetween-dying-realities]

Hi again, Elliot. :).

It's ok to call me by my first name, I don't mind.

I understand needing a sort of manual for things. You structured your post similarly to how I would structure something, so I wrote you a manual of sorts. I need things to be that way too, as a system we are autistic (I am just learning this today, it was a recent thing.) and as I am a fusion, it helps to organize my own spiraled mind. It also serves as a good barrier, or a good reference guide in case someone can't figure something out. A good flowchart guide, in a way. I'm very glad to know this structure was what you were after, and I'm very glad to know that my detailed descriptions and everything made you feel understood, and that it helped.

The writing method is something I came up with in the system, and I probably get it as a carry over from someone that is or was a part of me before the fusion. I feel as if people steal my words away as well, although I've let myself believe that getting them out is better than bottling them up inside. It was difficult for me to get to this point where I'm able to do it, so don't feel like you need to rush into it. It's something you take time with, to be comfortable with your own words, and understand the process of them leaving your active memory.

I am glad to hear you like the art method as well. I often spiraled as well before doing this, this particular way. One part of me was an artist before, and she struggled with perfection. That carried over into me as I am now, and I have had to get over it myself. I started with throwing paint on a canvas. As in picking up the bucket and just blanketing the canvas. I understand you can't do this digitally, but a good idea would be to cover the canvas in scribbles, so you loose the idea of a "perfect canvas." That really helped me to understand the more intricate workings behind craving perfection, loosing the standard, or clean canvas helped me to focus not on the fact it's a clean space, but to focus on the chaos of it all. It wasn't ordered, or held to anyone's standard, and as a good starting point, I believe it's worth putting time into. My spirals would usually trigger a violent response/reaction to whatever stimuli caused it, resulting messes and feeling like I had no control over anything. That stems from a deeper issue I am working on, but I won't go into length here.

Music is a very.. emotion dependent method I find. Certain songs will trigger different responses in the right mindset. We as a system bottle emotions as well, and our current host relies on this method to process every day life. I learned it from him, and I'm glad to have gotten to share it with you. I understand why it wouldn't always work, as there's a lot of different emotions, and different ways that you would feel them, and songs vary just as much, as does attention, care, and other related factors.

I do not mind being here if you would like to discuss more, or simply talk about this all. I'm offering support, or at least someone that understands, to listen.

I hope you're able to feel better, and process everything.

How do you deal with/process grief?

My name is Elliot. I'm a trauma holder specifically for a past relationship of ours that was very abusive. But I don't resend them. In fact, I long for their attention, their contact. I even went as far as to send them a message on TikTok, which they saw, but didn't reply to. Which is absolutely okay, just... I really don't know how to process it.

Recently we turned to spirituality. It's something that was in the makings for a long time and we get a lot of comfort from it. Today, the cards said to process this relationship we need to process the guilt and grief, feel it.

But... how?

We're a verbal processor, but our partner is currently not in a mental place to listen to it. In fact, they spiralled two times because of it, and it only made us (specifically me too) even more afraid to speak up about the bad but also the good things from that relationship.

So... how? How do I process guilt if I'm sentenced to silence? How do I feel the grief if I'm not allowed any of what I'd instinctively do? How do I live with this without any available therapy...?

-Elliot

[angelnumber27]

violently forcing myself to have better days

[daily-whistlebreeze]

I'd like to quickly say something as my blog keeps on growing and inspires new daily blogs. Never in any way shape or form compare yourself to what I have been doing here for the last four years. It isn't good for you, I am too much of an outlier to be a good comparison point.

I began drawing Whis every day in a time where I needed something to hold onto and by some luck I had a perfect moment every single day after dinner to draw my whis for the day. It has become a key piece of my daily routine, nearly the only thing I will know for sure I'll do. This isn't something easy to achieve and honestly stiffens me a bit for other activities, but I have grown so attached to Whis that I gladly take this responsibility. Daily Whis is my job and I enjoy it (usually)

I've been going at it for four years now, but it hasn't always been smooth for me either. Outside circumstances (like exams) or my dwindling mental health have at many points forced me to skip days or really plan ahead to have Whisses prepped in advance (I tell you, when I went to Greece for a good 11 days last year, I was working overtime to have all the Whisses I needed for the trip).

Sometimes I do just want to skip a day because I'm too tired or distracted by another thing and it's fine. I only make it a problem for myself because I have this daily gimmick and an anniversary to celebrate every year, but most daily blogs don't have such strict constraints and that's good.

These blogs are supposed to be fun. It is fun to draw a specific character/thing every day, it is especially rewarding if you can hold onto it for a little while and see how you've grown since you started. Day 1 of daily Whis looks so less good compared to my recent art, but it's incredible to be able to look back at all the progress I've made in the four years I've been at it. But in all, this is just supposed to be fun, art is supposed to be fun and these blogs are never an obligation to hold onto. I've managed it, but through a collision of circumstances so unlikely and specific that it's really a miracle I'm still working.

Doing it daily is a good challenge, it forces you to try and keep a stricter schedule on the drawings you want to post. It teaches you time management (usually. Be aware that sometimes you'll still start pieces that are a bit too big half an hour before posting time. Or at least I do), drawing every day improves your skills by practicing a little every day and is just fun. Sometimes you really need to just draw the character standing there and it's amazing you can just do that and share it with people who will enjoy it.

But doing it daily is still challenge and not something your life depends on. Not everyone has the time to manage a daily blog, it does take an hour out of every day where you could be doing something else, or you don't have access to your art equipment (I've downloaded an art program on my phone to make quick 5 minute doodles for those days I'm away from my computer when it's posting time, but nobody should be forced to do this) or life just gets in the way damnit.

So I want everyone to know I feel so incredibly honored to be the source of inspiration for other daily blogs to begin, but please do not force yourself to draw if you're not feeling inspired or well or you don't have the time or literally any other reason and please, if those reasons do come in the way don't feel guilty about it. Draw while the joy is there and if you want to challenge yourself by doing a daily, absolutely do so, but take care of yourself and just focus on what's enjoyable and that isn't the same for everyone.

[samgiddings]

[girzapata6]

GIRU try not to make MORE stupid RP/Ask Blogs Challenge: IMPOSSIBLE!!!

[trevination]

just practiced great expectations in b major for voice lessons: went very good!

[mer-se]

So much of anxiety is living in both the past and future and not being present so, I’m trying to make a conscious effort to stay in the present from now on because I literally don’t actually exist anywhere else. so whats that matter - we just have right now. Constant worrying doesn’t actually alter anything. If bad, shitty stressful things are going to happen they will, there’s no control in that. Just have to live. Just have to continue, adapt and do the best you can in the moment you’re actually fucking in and keep going. Gotta go through bad stuff to get to the cool shit. There’s always good stuff coming. Either way you gotta just keep going.

so presently I’m standing in my kitchen and it’s crazy foggy outside. I have the worlds most precious cat at my feet and i’m eating warmed homemade coffee cake.

[nellasbookplanet]

I just finished my playthrough of me2, and as I put off the overlord and arrival dlcs until the end of it my thoughts on them are very fresh and Must be aired.

The frustrating thing is, they didn’t have to suck. The gameplay, like the shadowbroker dlc, is fun and stands out from the rest of the game! The story and themes of 'how far will you go in sacrificing individual lives in the name of winning a war/stopping extinction' fits well with the overall narrative and emphasis on hard choices! I mostly enjoy them! Only, overlord is completely undone by gross ableism, and arrival doesn’t actually let you engage with the choice it sets up; it fully forces your hand, and then makes the whole thing feel pointless by just having the reapers show up for a surprise attack in the next game anyway. It’s a trolley problem that doesn’t actually let you control the lever and then derails the entire train to hit both tracks no matter what you do.

So, how do you fix arrival? Personally, I would probably keep in the loss of the batarian colony as inevitable, but change the focus. As it is, barely a moment is spared to let it sink in that you're about to end 300 000 lives, and the only 'choice' you get is whether you attempt to (futilely) warn them in a blink and you'll miss it scene. I would've at a minimum added dialogue options where Shepard/the player could’ve expressed anger at how this work could’ve gone on for as long as it did without a warning being sent long before. For a bigger change, that could’ve led into a major conflict: a paragon Shepard trying to warn the colony, while her opponents argue that doing so would jeopordize the project/the hidden base and tries to stop her as part of the final fight of the dlc. If you choose to warn and do it in time, perhaps some small amount of people make it out, with the majority of the colony still being destroyed to keep the tone of sacrifice. If you want to keep it real dark, everyone dies no matter how hard you try to save them, but you should at least have been given the option to seriously try even if it’s hopeless.

But there isn’t really a workaround for how part of the problem with arrival is a problem with the batarians: had the colony been human, turian, or asari, most players would likely have been more upset because those are our allies. The batarians, however, are a one-note species never portrayed as anything other than slavers, criminals, and terrorists. While other species are allowed horrific acts while still being portrayed as complex people capable of both good and bad (need I remind you of the first contact war, the krogan rebellion, the genophage, the quarian's attempted genocide of the geth, the geth's war against biological life, and so on), the player is given little to no reason to sympathize with batarians. Had they been made to feel like actual people while still our enemies from the start of the game, arrival would've felt more like the gut punch of sacrifice it was and less like it was off-handedly writing off a people everyone hates, anyway. There could’ve been a discussion of 'are you more willing to sacrifice those you don’t know/don’t like and what does it say about you; is this a sacrifice or is it selfish revenge with the greater good as cover (a discussion especially brought up if you take the renegade choice)' but instead it feels almost vindictive.

[craptainkirk]

Somebody interacting with and reblogging your self ship art is the greatest joy known to man

[phagodyke]

wanted to go to the gym social tn but as I was getting my stuff together to go out, a friend said smth that rly pissed me off and now I'm too fucking angry to go out. fucks sake man

[end-orfino]

ahhhhhh i remember why i dont read comics & books and watch movies as much as I should. Because they make me lose it