#ive only had this blog for like 4 months

[flowerflowerflo]

normalise referring to your girlblog as your baby and your followers as your babies

[ja3yun]

Your work is massively underrated. I just read tstab and the first chapter of melting point and you're so talented.

Omw to go read the rest of your works :')

:((( tysm for reading!!

[ieropilled]

new tumblr update is ass. however its gonna take so much more than this to get me to stop using this shitty app, so

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

would i be the asshole for contacting my ex to ask them if they could stop talking about me online to a community that knows who i am? (🥐)

tw: kinda emotionally abusive relationship

bg info

me (24f) and my ex (28) were in a three month relationship three years ago following a whole year of friendship. they were my first partner and i came out as a lesbian to everyone during our relationship. when we were together, they were 24 and i was 20. i was very emotionally dependent on them when i was 20 due to mental health issues and so were they which is probably one of the reasons why our relationship was as explosive as it was. i looked up to them, my whole emotional world revolved around them, and our friendship/relationship was the only thing i had in my life at the time. they constantly asked me "hey is it even ethical that im dating you, im 4 years older, you tell me please, oh i feel like such a bad person", yet, they still continued dating me every time they would ask.

our fights were horrible and truly explosive as they broke their stuff in front of me out of anger, threw things at me and insulted me as stupid, amongst many other things. our fights usually ensued because i would ask them for reassurance and they would start panicking and screaming at me to shut up. to be fair, i would cry every time i was asking for reassurance which probably made them feel scared about losing me, so i consider myself 50% at fault for everything that happened in our relationship, i shouldve been able to talk to them in a secure manner that wouldnt trigger their abandonment issues. our fights were quite jarring and made me walk out on them several times out of fear. yet i always came back and apologized and took the whole accountability, even though i dont consider myself the only one at fault. walking out several times during fights was probably one of the worst things i could have done but at the same time i was simply scared. even when i walked out after our last fight, they begged me to come back, which i did, i apologized under tears, and yet, told them that i cant promise them to stay no matter what.. and left.

we met through tumblr and were in a medium distance relationship. after our relationship, i went to a clinic and had to learn a lot about myself, what i experienced and what i want from life. im in a very happy and healthy place now and since the end of 2021 im with my current partner whom i want to be the love of my life and whom ive started to build a life with.

context

i have my ex blocked on all social media because they used to do hour long deep dives into my blog, even as of recently (i have statcounter installed for my safety bc im paranoid about them sending me anonymous asks). at first i also used to visit their blog after our break up but stopped doing so after moving on with my life. one year after breaking up i temporarily unblocked them and explicitly asked them not to look at my social media (or at least to do it in a way in which i dont notice aka asked them not to watch my instagram stories).

while i dont visit their blog/social media because i dont want to know whats going on in their life, tumblr mutuals frequently dm me stuff like "hey i think you should know that your ex posted about you/shit talks about something that you posted". i havent asked my mutuals to tell me whenever this happens but i imagine they do so because within the tumblr space we exist, everyone kind of knows everyone (so my ex doesnt have to mention my name for people to know who theyre talking about). sometimes mutuals send screenshots of the posts so that i dont have to visit my ex's blog. last ive heard my ex joked about throwing jewelry at me and posted extensively about a tattoo that i got. my ex's behavior makes me uncomfortable and feel just as helpless as i did back then.

why i might be the asshole

im scared that they might be venting because i was more at fault in the relationship than them and that i am unconsciously deflecting. however, i talked about every detail of the relationship and this fear extensively with my therapist, friends, and partner who are of the opinion that i was young, scared, and intertwined in a relationship that was incredibly toxic. im still unsure though because my emotions frequently triggered theirs.

why they might be the asshole

i asked them once to stop visiting my social media and i feel like venting about our relationship that broke off 3 years ago to a tumblr community of friends and acquaintances is kind of unfair. however, i might be the asshole and they might just need the space for venting. i could just ignore the vents and let them heal in their own way from what ensued.

WIBTA if i confronted them again and told them that i want them to stop talking about me online? or would i be a party pooper because every person needs a space for venting?

What are these acronyms?

[hyewka]

THE 3K HYEWKA SPECIAL — ★

INTRO. soooo..the blog hit 3000 followers a day ago which is like, still incredibly wild to me because as someone who was just an avid reader on tumblr i felt like the things i wanted to write, so few would enjoy and actually consume. and for the ten months ive experienced being a creator on tumblr, that seems to be such a popular mindset of people who want to write but haven’t written, the fear of putting in some effort and not have it returned back with love.

then i decided with all things considered, i would center this event around things you don’t usually see on the smut side of moablr (yes…yes i couldn’t come up with a better name than kink buffet). big age gaps, stepcest, tentacle, love making (vanilla but we don’t see it enough do we?), professor x student, hybrid, name anything and i’ll write it—hell, i’ll even write golden showers lol

it doesn’t have to be the filthiest fantasy you’ve had, thats not the point—just anything you’ve been really wanting, as a present from me to you <3

here’s a random kink prompt list you could use for reference, you don’t have to use it but its just there if you need words you can’t find

RULES/REMINDERS. (read this before requesting!!!!)

1. what i end up writing might not end up being what you wanted, in which case i hope you don’t send a second ask almost like you’re prompting me for a re-do. these aren’t commissions, i’m gonna always add an element that makes it enjoyable for me to write.

2. if you request, and i answer, please please please please reblog with some sort of feedback. you dont have to say its your ask, but please give some feedback. make a new blog if you really cant reblog smut on your main account or even just send an ask saying you enjoyed it or liked it if you do 🥲

3. i would appreciate if requests aren’t too long and limited to just a few sentences but if you really feel like dumping more, then go on 😭

4. anything i write because of this event might not be written for ever again—like i’m allowing daddy kinks/sugar daddy au’s but i’m not going to accept requests for that beyond this event.

OTHER THINGS.

the main event is the drabbles and fics, but there’s more to it too!

# kink buffet: q&a

questions about starting out on tumblr, writing tips, release dates, or personal life

# kink buffet: porn links

self explanatory. send porn links and the member you’re thinking of!

# kink buffet: fic rec

if you have any recommendations and want to rave about it to someone; me! im the person!!!!

# kink buffet: rant

had the worst sex of your life? first time didn’t go well? or just general rants of day to day life—i’ll listen and give advice if asked 😭

THE END.

asks for this event regarding the drabbles will be closed by new years, i’ll extend it only if i feel like i can manage more.

masterlist for the event.

[spacelazarwolf]

i like that hes all like 'you cant have had me blocked for a year ive only had this blog for 4 months' but also apparently all the content you have ever posted was stolen from him??? wild. wheres the 'aging isnt natural' guy i think they'd get along.

NOT THE AGING ISNT NATURAL GUY PLSSSSSS

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) — pt. iv

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 4/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Rating: M (18+) Word Count: 6k Summary: Every villain has an origin story. This is yours. AUs: Older brother’s best friend; fuck buddies that hate each other CW: Reader is AFAB & queer; sort of an omniscient POV?; angst; very self-indulgent reference to Foresight (can you spot it? 👀); and — oh, hey! some of the other tannie boys are here. A/N: We love a flashback moment :') This takes place about a year prior to the first part, fyi. Major thanks to @ressjeon & @mimikookie for fireman carrying me out of a plot spiral 💕 ⚠️ 18+ only ⚠️ minors and ageless blogs will be blocked, on sight. my content is not for you. i do not want to interact with you. please respect my boundaries.

Jeon Jungkook was half-asleep with his face propped up a slack fist when you came through the front door of the book shop like a wrecking ball in a peacoat.

The chime of the bell above the door was no match for the way you sang out to him, and neither were his unsuspecting ears. He snapped to attention so suddenly that he knocked a pile of first editions clear off the counter. He didn’t even try to catch them as they hurtled towards the floor; they’d join the other casualties he’d dropped half an hour earlier. 

Namjoon could kill him for his carelessness later, if he was so inclined. Jungkook just hoped that Namjoon remembered he was helping for free — and not at all because losing a bet meant assisting his senior in preparing the soft-launch of his business. Forced altruism should result in him being cut a bit of slack, he’d decided.

“Guess what?”

The last word of your question was held like a whole note as you walked — skipped, rather — towards him. Your giddy smile was starkly contrasted by the muted, wool coat that fluttered limply as you moved. Eyeing the counter, now free of any obstacles, you hopped onto it and sat cross-legged. When Jungkook was too stunned by your sudden energy to respond, you raised your eyebrow expectantly. 

Hoseok’s head poked out from the back room. Unlike Jungkook, Hoseok was present and accounted for simply because he was a good person. He wiggled his eyebrows as he asked, “Did it finally happen?” 

Since you’d met him earlier that year, Hoseok had wholeheartedly subscribed to this new chapter of your love life. He’d gotten bored of your decidedly unremarkable ex-boyfriend from a few months back, and now eagerly awaited any updates that followed your break-up. You couldn’t blame him because you seemed to be hooked on the plot, too.

Jungkook was lost, but that was news to no one. Hoseok dropped the name of the unknown subject like a bomb, and now his ears were ringing. His eyes widened far enough that he feared they’d fall right out of his skull. 

Before you could answer Hoseok’s initial question, Jungkook interjected, “Park Jimin? You’re joking, right?”

Dumbstruck, he glanced between you and Hoseok, like blinking rapidly enough would make his brain process the information any faster. Like repeating himself will make what he said true — what Hoseok said impossible.

“This is a joke?” 

Jungkook’s expression might’ve looked firm, but his statement was far from declaratory. The unintentional, upwards inflection at the tail end of his sentence came across as judgmental as it was disbelieving. It sounded a lot like, Are you stupid?

You shrugged. Either you didn’t want to answer in earnest, or you didn’t know how to. 

And yes, Jungkook did think you were being an idiot. He wasn’t necessarily wrong for looking at you that way, nudging you back towards reality. But maybe he should’ve given you a five-minute head start before he swallowed your joy whole and shat it back out. So, he swallowed the rest of his words instead.

Hoseok emerged from the back and crossed over to you and Jungkook. Once he did, he flicked the side of the youngest’s skull with a painted — albeit chipped — fingernail. Jungkook accepted it, knowing he deserved it, and he only grunted a little bit in response.

“I’m always shocked not to hear an echo when I do that, Jungkookie.” Hoseok shot you a smirk, and then immediately stuck his tongue out at Jungkook, who was glowering at him. He pressed on, “If you utilized that brain to its full potential, you’d have learned a long time ago that the heart wants what it wants.”

Ah, there’s that hopelessly romantic enabler. It was no longer any wonder why you’d swung by the shop, which was a significant distance outside the bounds of your usual commute home from your office.

“I’m just saying —” Jungkook raised his hands defensively before swatting at Hoseok, who tugged playfully at Jungkook’s ear. 

The elder danced out of the younger's line of fire with a whoop. Jungkook rolled his eyes and swallowed the frustrated grumble building up in his throat.

“— That maybe getting involved with Seokjin-hyung’s best friend is a truly garbage-tier idea. Am I not allowed to point that out?”

You and Hoseok blinked back at him, then simultaneously, you both scoffed, “No.” 

Hoseok smiled and scratched at your shoulder in a silent show of support before returning to whatever task he’d been working on when you came in. Jungkook was left deflated where he sat. The two of you joining forces against him had popped him like a balloon. Poor baby, the voice in his head said, sounding a lot like you.

His tone softened, and his eyes crinkled into his best attempt at a smile. He caved, as usual. “Got a hot date tonight, then, noona?” 

In lieu of a verbal response, you nodded furiously, beaming. He reached up and squeezed your knee as it bounced excitedly within centimeters of his face. Then, without commenting further, he bent over to re-categorize the same novels he’d alphabetized four times already that morning. 

“You’re supposed to ask for details!” Hoseok’s voice called out from the other room. “Honestly, Jungkook-ah, you need to get better at having female friends!” 

With an arm full of books, Jungkook sank back down onto the wooden stool he’d previously occupied. Truly, he didn’t know why he expected anyone to ever let him live. 

“I’m asking for details,” He rolled his eyes and yelled over his shoulder. When he turned back around, you were trying not to giggle. “So, uh, how the hell did this come about?”

You leaned forward and landed a smack on his shoulder, which, for the record, Jungkook did not enjoy. He didn’t enjoy what he knew of Jimin’s reputation, either.

“Could you at least try to give him a chance?” You pleaded, hands clasped in front of you in prayer. “You don’t even know him, Jungkook.”

You were right. Jungkook had never actually interacted with Jimin directly, certainly didn’t have the history with him that you did, but he’d heard a lot about him. The information itself painted a bad enough picture, but it got worse when he considered his source. 

Sources, plural.

The backstory came to him through hook-ups of his that, unbeknownst to Jungkook at the outset, were rebounding off of Jimin’s rejection. Park was patient zero, Jungkook’s study had concluded, and for reasons still unknown to the younger man, Jimin left everyone in worse shape than he found them.

Don’t get him wrong, though. The unhealed part of Jungkook was at least a little grateful for the influx of needy, emotionally unavailable girls in his orbit. He was fine batting clean-up, so long as no one stuck around to call him oppa the next day.

The rest of him — the evolved part —  was wary, especially when it came to you. Jungkook was a few months’ younger than you and nowhere near the helicopter sibling that your actual brother was, but he still felt protective of you. Still feared what damage Jimin could do, intentionally or otherwise; and the way your brother would make it worse.

Jungkook pulled a face that said he wasn’t likely to buy whatever you attempted to sell him. Still, he did what good dongsaengs are supposed to do: kept his fucking mouth shut and listened. 

That clearly wasn’t your specialty, but hey, at least you were endearing.

“He’s sweet, Jungkookie,” you defended. “Honestly, I think my parents like him more than me and Seokjin combined.”

For a second, you smiled sheepishly. Then, you quieted for even longer. When you picked up again, your brows furrowed; and Jungkook could tell by the tone of your voice how deeply you had to dig to say any of the things you were. 

They came out heavy, dropped with a thud between you like all the obscure, antique shit he’d knocked over so far that day.

“I’ve always felt like a shadow around Seokjin, you know? Everyone looks right past me; they always have. Teachers did, friends did, our parents still do.” You looked down at the fingers that fidgeted in your lap. “Jimin’s never been like that. When he’s around, I know I’m not just cellophane.”

Jungkook was well-accustomed to the way you romanticized people, like they were figures of your life’s mythology and not simply assholes off the street. That was one of the things he admired most about you, and hoped to be a little better at himself. It’s also why he continued to bite his tongue when you said:

“I have a really good feeling about this one, Jungkook.”

There was no point in arguing with you when you looked like that, all starry-eyed and hopeful. So, Jungkook demurred, “At least tell me he’s taking you somewhere nice. If you say you’re going to that dumpster bar —”

Hoseok unhelpfully interjected, “Oh, Yang Daehyun’s place? I think that’s where Yoongi-hyung met —”

“I will barf right on this counter,” Jungkook finished, punctuating his warning by rapping his knuckles against the wood below.

Jimin was pacing. 

He stopped knowing what to do with his hands a few hundred steps ago, so he gave up and shoved them into the back pockets of his jeans. As he circled, he shot Taehyung a panicked look that went nowhere fast. Whatever Webtoon he was reading was, apparently, far more important than his friend’s mental health and well-being.

Even without a captive audience, Jimin couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve been on a thousand dates —” 

Taehyung interjected with a roll of his eyes, “That’s an egregious mischaracterization.” 

Jimin pulled one hand out of his pocket and held it up, silently begging his friend to save the slut-shaming for later. Though the tone of his voice indicated that he was getting there, Taehyung still wasn’t annoyed enough to pull his eyes off the screen of his phone. He missed Jimin’s plea entirely, stayed unbothered.

Still pacing, Jimin rambled, “And I’ve never gotten nervous. I’ve had to make speeches at massive conferences —”

For the first time, Taehyung glanced up over the top of his phone. A shit-eating grin tugged at his mouth. With a flexed eyebrow, his words nudged Jimin right in the ribs. “Remind me again how wearing a suit and getting day-drunk in a hotel ballroom is a conference?” 

Jimin’s raised hand folded so that his middle finger was on full display. He didn’t stop his movements, though, insistent on soliloquizing despite the interruption: “— and none of that shit has ever bothered me, but now my fucking palms are sweating, and I don’t know how to —”

With a put-upon sigh, Taehyung poured himself from the couch to his feet and stood directly in Jimin’s well-worn path. Assuming his typecast role as obstacle, he gripped Jimin’s shoulders and — without any resistance, whatsoever — backed his friend towards the couch. 

“You’re giving me anxiety,” He scolded, earning a disgruntled sigh from Jimin as he forced him to sit. “You wanted my attention; now, you have it. Just — give the pedometer a fucking rest, and listen, alright?”

It was microscopic, but Jimin’s nod in response was enough of a green light for Taehyung. The former knew the latter was no good at pep talks, and yet, there they both were. Taehyung had to wonder if it was too early for a stiff drink.

“Mechanically, it’s simple. You’ve done the hard part in asking this girl out,” Taehyung conceded calmly. Then, he cracked wide open; he couldn’t help it. He snorted, “Which — I’m sorry —  is still wild to me. I didn’t even know you knew how to do that, for real. Did you get body-snatched or something? Who the fuck are you?”

He almost dodged the hand that flew out to smack him.

“Jesus — okay! Don’t blame me for leaving Monogamous Jimin off my bingo card.” Taehyung threw his hands up, signaling a ceasefire. “Just go, buy her dinner, and make googly eyes at her. This is not a crisis.” 

This gave Jimin pause. His brows furrowed as he chewed his cheek, working to digest Taehyung’s words. With an uncharacteristically small voice, he eventually asked, “What if she doesn’t like the food?”

This was the straw that broke Taehyung’s back. He had to pause for a moment, talk himself out of walking out that fucking door and never coming back. Sure, it was his apartment, but that was irrelevant. If Jimin was intent on being this much of a baby, he could keep it.

“Would this girl have suggested the restaurant if she didn’t?” Taheyung challenged. 

He crossed his arms indignantly, waiting on an answer he knew — on some level —  he’d never get. Jimin shrunk more with every second that passed in silence.

“Would she have agreed to go anywhere with you if she didn’t want to?” Then, with a smirk, Taehyung amended, “Well, maybe she wouldn’t have if she knew you were going to spiral like this.” 

“I’m not spiraling,” Jimin countered meekly. Then, he thought better of it. There was no other way to describe it, and he knew it, as much as he hated it whenever Taehyung proved himself right. “Okay, fine. I’m mildly unzipped, but I walked into a minefield on purpose, so… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything, but his eyebrow raised quizzically. 

It was, frankly, impossible to try and keep up with Jimin’s calendar of dick appointments. While Jimin didn’t make it a point to kiss and tell, he didn’t keep secrets, either — not from Taehyung, at least. He normally folded like laundry when pressed. 

This time, for whatever reason, he’d kept his mouth shut. It was the most tight-lipped Taehyung had ever seen him be, and that hint was the closest thing to a reveal he’d gotten so far. Which, for the record, was a terrible sign.

A sign of the apocalypse, as far as Taehyung could guess.

Jimin whined and slapped his hands over his face. As he dragged them upwards, he pushed his hair back, paused with his fingers still tangled in his strands. His elbows dug into his thighs while he stared absently at the rug, as if he was waiting for it to swallow him whole.

Oh, so, this is bad bad, huh?

“This is not a thing I want to fuck up. I can’t fuck this up,” he admitted, more to himself than Taehyung. Another beat. “And I know I’m going to. Honestly, I think I already have.”

Jimin looked so beaten down that Taehyung could feel it in his own bones. Lead-laced quiet settled on his shoulders, forced him to drop onto the cushion next to Jimin, whose unblinking stare still stuck to the floor. 

And they stayed that way, neither one of them moving, until Jimin dragged his hands back down from his hair. Rubbing harshly at his face, he did the best he could to physically scrub that nagging, needling feeling off his skin. 

“Is there any good way to tell Seokjin that I asked out his sister?”

Oh, fuck.

Taehyung swallowed hard. “Doubt it. Maybe pick out a burial plot first?”

You’d tried on four different versions of the same outfit and wondered how you’d acquired so many fucking turtlenecks. 

After too much time deliberating, you opted for outfit number five — one of four (4) black sweaters hanging in your closet — and tucked the hem into your high-waisted skirt. As you snaked a belt around your waist, you assessed yourself in the mirror, frowning at your hair. 

Of the two hours you’d spent getting ready, half that time was spent toiling over the state of it. Over and over, you asked yourself: down and limp, or up and messy? Neither option was good enough, but the face of your watch whispered that you were running out of time.

In fact, it screamed that you should’ve taken the time to wash your hair earlier, instead of relying on half a can of dry shampoo to carry you through yet another day.

You heaved a sigh and stepped even closer to the mirror to check for any lingering imperfections. The pimple on your chin was, thankfully, invisible under the layers of concealer you’d applied. The tinted lip balm had stayed where it was supposed to, too, which was a miracle, given the number of nervous sips you’d taken from your nearby wine glass.

Unfortunately, your hair was doing a lot of things, and none of them were good. 

You grimaced.

If this was as good as it was going to get, why couldn’t it be just a little bit better?

You glanced down at your watch again and saw that it was 6:45 PM. 

Shit. 

During your sprint to your front door, you made sure to thank yourself for telling Jimin you’d meet him at the restaurant; one of few responsible choices you’d deigned to make lately. If you’d agreed to be picked up as he originally offered, he’d have been sitting in his car outside, dying of boredom and regret, while you turned your closet inside out. 

Black tights caused you to slide across the hardwood when you neared your front entrance. By sheer force of will alone, you stayed standing, every muscle in your body tensing. Huffing out a relieved breath, you wasted no time in choosing between near-identical pairs of Chelsea boots — seriously, why are you like this? — before shoving your feet into them and grabbing your coat from the hook near the door. 

With force, you snaked your arms into the holes, jerked the front door open, and stepped face-first into a cold so cruel, it bit your cheeks without mercy.

“Motherfucker,” you hissed, hands already frigid and aching as you struggled to lock the door behind you. 

Winters in the city were mild, more often than not; but this cold snap was making you snap, and part of you regretted agreeing to leave the house in the first place. Was anybody worth braving this frozen hellscape?

Don’t do that, you admonished yourself. Don’t act like you don’t want this.

The tears forming in your wind-whipped eyes would soon be the least of your worries, thanks to the boot heel that failed to find purchase on the slick surface of your driveway. Instead of your stinging cheeks, it was your tailbone that demanded immediate attention, having taken the full impact of your fall.

You yelped, more so out of surprise than pain, “Motherfucker.” 

Colder than before and with a wet spot soaking through the fabric of your skirt, you rubbed gingerly at your aching ass and scrambled to your feet.

It certainly didn’t help, but it didn’t hurt, either: You growled at the ground, “Get absolutely fucking fucked,” as if it might animate and apologize to you.

The scowl didn’t leave your face as you penguin-walked carefully to your car, ripped the driver’s side door open, and dumped yourself unceremoniously behind the wheel. The weight of your body against the seat only meant that the chilly dampness of your outfit intensified. Worse, you had the sneaking suspicion that your clumsiness had caused the back of your tights to run.

Caving to self-indulgence, you threw your head back against the seat and permitted yourself one (1) petulant, childish whine before re-committing to acting your age.

“Motherfucker!”

The drive wasn’t as treacherous as your walk to the car had been, though the city’s recent rainy spell left enough ice in its wake to keep those far smarter than you off the roads. To your surprise, the streets were clear once you made it downtown, with very few people meandering the sidewalks. It all felt ominous, parking in a ghost town, but you ignored that apprehension long enough to score a metered spot directly outside the restaurant. 

Maybe the universe is making it up to me, you thought as you slipped out of your seatbelt, out the door, and off the street. Maybe good things do happen to mediocre people.

Stepping inside the restaurant, the warmth enveloped you so sweetly, you nearly moaned. The fireplace crackling off to the side was meant to create ambiance, but it nudged the primal part of your brain that yearned to curl up in front of it. Shaking your head to clear those feral thoughts, your narrowed eyes scanned the room for any sign of Jimin.

It didn’t strike you as odd when you didn’t spot him. Jimin was a lot of things, but punctual had never — ever — been one of them. You couldn’t have reasonably expected to find him, anyways, not at your usual, early arrival.

After being informed of your party of two, the host led you to a small bistro table in the far corner. They bowed before leaving you to your own devices, giving you the space to fuss blindly with your appearance before Jimin would eventually walk in. No matter how many times you smoothed your fingers over your flyaways, you still felt their abject refusal to play along.

He’s seen you with braces, you reminded yourself. He was there for your tragic, dresses-over-jeans phase in the mid-aughts. He knows what your yearbook photos looked like, and he still wants to take you out.

You turned ever so slightly toward the door and crossed one leg over the other. Then, you placed one elbow on the white tablecloth, rested that hand delicately in the space below your jaw. It was your best approximation of desirable nonchalance, and you were sure you either looked ridiculous or extremely chic. Internally, you crossed your fingers and prayed it was the latter.

Jimin made plans with one Kim and wound up burdened by the other.

Under normal circumstances, it wasn’t a problem when Seokjin showed up on Jimin’s doorstep without warning, or let himself inside. It wasn’t uncommon for Jimin to come home from somewhere and find Seokjin already there, sitting on his couch and shouting at the television. Jimin’s life had always looked like that, for as long as he could remember. Like being an only child didn’t mean he lacked a brother.

That thought made nausea swirl in his stomach as he glanced between his watch, his couch, and the person lounging on it.

For once, Jimin was committed to being where he needed to at the time he was supposed to. A part of that promise was based on the fact that he was too eager to wait; but the majority of his dedication ran deeper than that. He was dead-set on proving to you that he could honor plans — that, when it came to you, he was a person that would show up.

And then your brother’s car blocked him in his driveway and kept him from leaving an hour early, like he’d told himself he would. Just in case.

Trapped, Jimin told himself he still had time. He could still beat you to the restaurant, still be there to pull out your chair the way your father always did for your mother.

Jimin knew that, outwardly, you always rolled your eyes at gestures like that — what’s the implication, that I can’t do it myself? — but he registered the way fondness twitched at the corner of your mouth. He caught all of those micro-expressions, studied them quietly from the other side of your family’s dining room table for — shit, two decades?

You never caught him staring, though, not once.

He suspected that you’d gotten used to being overlooked. Maybe, he figured, you stopped bothering to check if anyone glanced your way in the rare moments where you piped up. Jimin stayed quiet, for the most part, because the older boy sitting next to him picked up the slack your parents had dropped when they dropped you. 

Seokjin saw everything, was everything — to everyone. Jimin owed him more than anyone else for the way he dragged Jimin through school by the scruff of his neck. Seokjin’s nagging forced Jimin to buckle down and graduate, and once he did, Seokjin kept pushing. He hooked Jimin up with a job at his consulting firm, kept his toes in line long enough for Jimin to grow the fuck up.

Shit. 

Would he have gotten anywhere in life without your brother?

Your brother spoke for the first time in a minute, and the sudden addition of his voice made Jimin stop fidgeting with his fingers in his lap.

“You look nice,” Seokjin said, having finally, actually perceived his friend on the other side of the living room.

He sounded surprised to find Jimin there — or maybe, he was just surprised to see him dressed up for once. Suspicion caused his eyes to narrow, but it was peak shithead behavior that made him smirk. “Big plans tonight, Jiminie?”

Jimin was this close to throwing up all over his lap. He clamped his jaw shut, offering a nod instead of a verbal response.

He needed to spit it out. He needed to rip the bandage off and deal with the situation on the front end because he knew how fucked it would be to try to fix it in the aftermath. If he could float the idea now — ease Seokin into it, give him fair warning — then they’d likely be fine, right?

Jimin picked at his cuticles. He was unable to stop himself, even when he remembered you — years ago, after elbowing him in the ribs — telling him it was a bad habit. His heart did a stupid little somersault at the memory, though his anxiety squeezed his lungs with a lot more force. He swallowed, throat gravelly.

“Yeah, actually.”

It surprised him when the words slipped out, so much so that he blinked in stunned silence for a beat.

Seokjin capitalized on the quiet without knowing what he’d derailed. He scoffed, “I hope they’re not with Chan’s sister. From what I heard, you’re lucky he didn’t make you swallow your teeth.”

Oh.

“What exactly did you hear?” 

Jimin did his best to keep the anger out of his tone, but he wasn’t confident that he succeeded. What he was, was sick of that goddamn narrative. It spilled over each sphere of his life, and the stain it left was ugly, even if it wasn’t deserved. Still, he maintained that a person doesn’t need to be a saint to be a decent human being. 

Didn’t that count for anything?

Every single person he’d ever fucked around with was a placeholder; and every single one of them was told, right out of the gate, that nothing was coming out of whatever it was they did together. He made his position clear from the beginning — every time — and he didn’t let a single person get closer to him until they confirmed that they had no expectations. 

Didn’t grab drinks, didn’t share meals, didn’t spare a touch unless they knew what they were signing up for: A dead-end, ultimately, but a nice trip.

They all said they understood, but they never actually did. Hurt their own feelings by exaggerating their place in his life, cried and talked shit about him when he tried to remind them where they stood. He wasn’t responsible for their reaction; he was transparent. Cellophane. 

Reality notwithstanding, everyone looked at Jimin like he was intentionally leaving a trail of casualties behind him. And, really, what was he supposed to do about it, if he’d only ever been honest? 

If he didn’t find somewhere to be — someone to be with — his twenties would look just like his teens: him, holed up in his room alone; him, with his fingers itching to call you up; him, chickening out the second he felt brave enough to pick up the phone.

He reached the big age of twenty-seven before he stopped running away from you.

Seokjin said it lightly and with a smirk, but it hit Jimin square in the chest. “I heard that you’re a menace.”

This wasn’t the first time you’d shown up unannounced on Jungkook’s doorstep. In fact, you’d done it so many times, you’d both lost count. 

When he answered the door all those times before, you never looked like you did now — like you’d spent half an hour crying in your car but were pretending you hadn’t. He immediately clocked the way your mascara had clumped ever so slightly on your bottom lashes, but he followed your lead and pretended he hadn’t. Instead, he ushered you inside while the corners of his lips pulled down into a frown.

You expected to find Hoseok on his couch, and you were faintly disappointed when his usual spot was empty. 

Oh, you remembered, it’s only 8:00.

Every Friday night was movie night for the three of you, but it never started until Hoseok’s studio hours ended at 9:30. Part of you was relieved to have beaten him here, though you felt guilty about it. He may have been more excited about your budding relationship with Jimin than you were, and you knew you couldn’t handle the disappointed look he’d try and fail to hide.

You could, however, handle whatever “I told you so” Jungkook was likely to hit you with.

You let Jungkook guide you into the corner of the sectional that you normally occupied on nights like this. Well, on the nights you didn’t have plans — or, more specifically, the ones where your plans actually came to fruition. 

Slumping dejectedly into the plush cushions, you tugged at the throw blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. The heavy fabric hit your lap with a muffled thump, but within seconds, it was draped over the back half of your head and both your shoulders.

Jungkook blinked at you as if he was trying not to laugh. “You — uh,” He missed his objective by a mile and snorted slightly, “You look like a little wizard with the —” He gestured over at you, and when he couldn’t recall the final word of his joke, he began snapping his fingers. “The — umm —”

“Cloak,” You mumbled with a sniff.

He snapped his fingers one last time, then brandished a single finger-gun at you. “That’s the one.” 

You wanted to give him the laugh he’d earned, but you felt too crushed to be light-hearted. The amused twinkle in his eyes disappeared, and instead, they creased with concern. His voice was gentle, careful.

“Didn’t go as well as you hoped, huh?”

“It didn’t go at all,” You wiped roughly at your cheek with the back of your blanket-coated hand, but it was no use. You’d been caught red-eyed and red-handed.

“He didn’t show. I waited an hour, but then the host said he needed the table. All those people watched me wait there, alone — only to get up, alone — because people with actual dates had to sit down. Don’t think I’ve ever been so fucking humiliated in my life.”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched so tightly, you could see the emerging vein twinge in his neck. He was wracking his brain for something soft to say to you, you knew, but all he could come up with was:

“Give me his address. He and I need to have a chat.”

You sniffled again and shook your head; he pressed further. “Seriously, I’m going to knock him on his ass. What the fuck is wrong with this kid?”

“Jungkook,” you started, though he cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t Jungkook me. That’s bullshit, and you didn’t deserve it.” He snapped. When your eyes widened at his terseness, he gave your knee an affectionate squeeze and sighed, “I’m sorry. I just —” 

The more he mulled it over, the angrier he got. His tone switched mid-sentence. 

“— He didn’t even call?”

You shook your head before dropping it to rest against Jungkook’s shoulder. Quietly, you admitted, “Left me on read when I started asking what was happening. Screened my calls, too, I think.”

Thankfully, you were only aware of how pathetic you sounded; you didn’t have to see how pathetic you looked. You could see Jungkook, though, out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t spend much time around Seokjin, but the identical way anger made their eyes go dark was uncanny.

“I’m choosing violence, I swear to God,” he said through gritted teeth. 

You offered, “The unhealed part of me left a pretty cruel voicemail, if that does anything for you.”

His eyes flicked over to the corner, where he’d dumped his gear after his recreational team’s hockey game earlier that week. He joined in the first place to let off steam, he’d told you, but it clearly wasn’t enough. His anger rolled off of him in waves, warmed you next to him from the outside in.

You rolled your eyes half-heartedly. “Violence isn’t the answer, Jungkook. What do you want me to do, take that stick and beat him with it until he apologizes?”

He didn’t answer, and that didn’t sit well with you. You were about to call him out on his alarming behavior, but he shook off whatever took hold of him, and looked back at you. Noting the way his jaw still clenched, you nudged him with your elbow until his posture relaxed; and he rested his cheek on the top of your head. 

The two of you sat like that, silently, for several minutes before his grand plan came to him so suddenly that he jolted. The unexpected movement caused your heart to skip, caused his hand squeeze yours excitedly. 

“You know what’ll hurt more than a hockey stick?”

You scoffed, confident that you’d guessed where his train of thought had sped off to, “Chaining him to the back of your motorcycle and driving off into the sunset?”

For a brief second, you saw Jungkook’s eyes light up. To your surprise, he didn’t stop to consider your absurd proposal, instead flying right past it.

“The only thing I can think of that hurts more than being stood up, is getting strung along.”

His explanation came at a frantic pace, but you visibly struggled to keep up with his genius. He patted the back of your hand eagerly, as if to say, check this shit out. 

“How many times have you complained to me that the dudes you fuck don’t give a shit about you? That everything’s always about sex, and it makes you feel like garbage?”

Jesus Christ.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “When you said you were choosing violence, I didn’t think you meant me.”

Jungkook breezed past you with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Revenge is best served cold, right? So, be cold.”

You looked pointedly at him, sharp enough to stab him, but he beat you to the punch: “I know, it’s straight from Jeon Jungkook’s asshole playbook. I know. It’s an objectively, unquestionably horrible thing to do to someone, but nothing gets someone’s attention like ignoring them completely.”

Clearly, he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted from you. He shifted away from your side to sit up on his knees, facing you. From there, he gestured wildly with his hands, as if additional emphasis was what you needed to buy in. 

“You can get his attention, have him trailing after you like a stray dog, and then you can slam the door in his face.” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows, beyond pleased with himself. “Ouch.”

You chewed thoughtfully on your bottom lip as you processed Jungkook’s master plan. It was diabolical and, more importantly, the complete antithesis of how you’d decided to move through the world. 

Your heart was always pinned to the cuff of your sleeve because you chose to put it there, to let people in, let them see you. For as long as you’d known Jimin, you wanted to let him in. Wrote it in your fucking diary as a kid, praying that neon, gel ink could manifest it. Wasted wishes on it every year when you blew out your birthday candles, while he was off in the next room with Seokjin. Hoped that, eventually — someday —  he’d see you looking up at him.

And then it happened.

Everything you wanted fell right where you could reach it. Your casual texts back and forth turned into late night phone calls. In turn, those turned to video chats, into plans. Then, he asked you to dinner, and you gushed to all your friends that he was nothing like what they’d heard about him.

How fucking stupid you must have sounded.

The anger churned in your stomach like acid, and it threatened to burn a hole right through you. 

Jungkook was right. 

You’d always been committed to being whole-hearted, and it was exhausting to keep gluing yourself back together every time you broke. So, if someone was going to fall to pieces this time, it wasn’t going to be you.

“You have to be careful, though. If you get in too deep, you’ll just end up hurting yourself.”

Jungkook’s voice crashed through the maelstrom in your mind, startling you.

He continued his warning, “You cannot catch feelings while executing this kind of operation — trust me.”

“And how do I go about avoiding that?” You asked.

“You have to have rules.”

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

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[nonbinaryeggrolls]

Battle of the Larynx IV

Miguel O’Hara x afab!reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4

Synopsis: Having Spider-Man as a boyfriend was becoming increasingly more difficult, and his reoccurring absence is tearing you apart

Warnings: SMUT (rough v & p penetration, use of the term “daddy”, oral f receiving, praise, degradation, breeding kink, unprotected sex,) ANGST to fluff to smut, self destructive Miguel, Wholesome Peter!, Y/N doesn’t get preggy let’s just imagine she’s on birth control, WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT BABES!

MINORS DNI. AGELESS AND MINOR BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

Spider society was bigger than you thought it’d be, SOOOO much bigger. Its 10x bigger than your university was. You and Peter walked silently down the empty halls

Peter: “Lyla you there?”, a woman in all white appeared on his watch greeting Peter, “Is he up there?” He asked

Lyla: “Yeah, he’s been up there for a while.” She responded, “Someone should go talk to him…”

Peter: “Thats all you kid, he’s in the only room on the top floor.” He smiled at you and you pulled him into a soft hug, thanking him for bringing you here.

His floor was quiet and a complete mess. Wires sparking all over the place from being ripped out the wall, desks broken in half and holes punched into the wall; but in the middle of all the wreckage you saw him in the middle of the room with his back turned away.

Y/N: “Miguel?”

Miguel: “…Y/N.” He looked broken when looked back at you, his eye bags were bigger than usual and he was downing countless boxes of empanadas that he had gotten from the cafeteria

Y/N: “Miguel stop you’re going to give yourself stomach cramps.” You ran over and sat down beside him, pushing the boxes of food away so you could sit beside him. You used the sleeve of your sweater and wiped away at the grease and crumbs that were littered all over his face. He kept opening his mouth to say something but no words managed to form, “Talk to me Miggy.”

He crumbled at the sound of his nickname, he didn’t know how much he missed hearing those two syllables until they finally left your lips. Tears started to fall down his cheek and soak your sleeve.

Miguel: “Did you…did you have sex with him?” He finally asked. At first you were confused and thought he actually wondered if he thought you and Peter had sex, but then your eyes widened and realized who he was talking about, “I was just trying to make sure you got home safe, a-and I saw the two of you. God I’m so sorry I pushed you away Y/N, I’m sorry I know I pushed you right to him but please just tell if you—

Y/N: “I’d never. I pushed him away.” He closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. All night he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind; of another man giving you pleasure, making you scream, you moaning a name that wasn’t his. It destroyed him knowing how close he was to losing you to someone else

Miguel: “I’m so s—

Y/N: “I forgive you Miguel.” You said pulling him into hug and allowing him to rest on your chest, “I’m not mad anymore. I understand, you’re a really really complicated person but I know you love me. I know you regret the choices you’ve made these last few months you showed that when you opened up to me. That’s all I needed Miggy, was for you to open up to me and not leave me in the dark like you did every time before. I need you to let me be there for you like I need you to be there for me.” You rocked him back and forth and slowly you felt his breathing calm and his arms wrap tightly around your waist.

Miguel: “I’m so sorry for what I did…I don’t wanna hurt you like this ever again.”

Y/N: “You better not or I’ll have to fucking kill you”

You both giggled and he looked up at you through his puffy red eyes. Miguel draws you in closer and his smooth lips find yours in a passionate long awaited kiss. It’s soft and gentle then suddenly becomes desperate and feral. That warm sensation that you had once forgotten rushed through every corner of your body. You felt your body move on its own and start rocking against his thigh. He moves down to your neck and his breath on your skin makes you shiver

Miguel: “Can I take you home? Please cariño?” He begs and caresses your nipple with the pad of his thum

Y/N: “God yes. Please I want you so bad Miggy…

Miguel practically broke the door down to get into your bedroom, acting like a wild animal gnawing and prying at your baggy clothes. He craved you, it’d had been so long since he knew the warmth of your walls clenching around his cock

His suit disintegrated leaving him in his boxers that showed the outline of his erection and his toned structure. It leaves you hazy with desire. Fuck you missed it so badly, you felt a wetness soak your shorts just at the sight of him.

Miguel: “You’re so beautiful Y/N…so fucking prefect.”

Slowly, he kisses you starting at your lips, then to your neck, and down to your chest. Whispered praises leave his lips with every each kiss he lays on your body. However these ones felt different than all the other times, they felt desperate and needy. As if he was afraid that if he stopped now he’s never get the chance again

Miguel: “I don’t know what I’d do without you…I love you so much, I wanna love you for as long as I can. For as long as you’ll let me…” He lays one final kiss on your lips and presses your body up against his broad chest

Y/N: “Miggy please…” you moaned

Miguel: “What do you want baby? use your words.” He wrapped a firm grip onto your hair and pulled, exposing your neck even more and once again latching his lips on

Y/N: “Please, fuck me already!”

He couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to draw this out as long has he could, make it meaningful, but seeing you in his shirt and those skimpy little rib knit shorts that hugged your ass so well made his member leak and throb

Miguel grabs you by your waist roughly before pushing your back onto the soft mattress. As he spreads your legs apart he palms himself and examines the dampness that is showing through your shorts. He hooks one finger on each side and slides them down revealing your slick pussy

Miguel: “No panties baby? You knew i was gonna fuck you this whole time didn’t you?”

Y/N: “No i didn— OH FUCK!” you screamed at the sensation of his tongue entering your heat and darted at a delicious speed

He ate like he was starving. His lips latched onto your clit, soon entering his ring and middle finger. The two curled and pressed against that spongy sweet spot repeatedly and you swore you saw stars

Miguel: “You taste so good baby, so fucking sweet. I missed this cunt so much.” He said between each lick on your clit.

With each passing moment you felt yourself grow closer and closer. The knot in your stomach grew tighter, god you were almost there

Y/N: “Fuck Miguel Im gonna cum. Fuck! please let me cum!” you pleaded and thrusted your pussy against his mouth

Miguel: “Shit cariño cum for me! Cum so I can rip you open with this dick!” He postponed his fingers into you

Y/N: “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!”

With one last suck on your bud you feel the knot snap. Your eyes roll back and you spasm in his grasp as your orgasm hits you like a truck. Your legs tremble as you come down from your high. Miguel brings you into a sloppy and moist kiss mixed with both his saliva and your juices.

You feel his tip position at your entrance but a twinge of hesitation shows in his face

Y/N: “It’s okay Miguel, you can be rough with me. I want it to be just like before.” you say through heavy breathes

Miguel: “Are you sure?” He asks. You bring him into another kiss this time slower and deeper, grabbing onto his locks

Y/N: “Fuck me like you hate me.” you whisper in his ear

It was all the incentive he needed. He grips the meat of your thighs and rams his cock into your tight cunt, not caring if you needed time to adjust. Your cries go ignored as he bullied his dick into you at an unforgiving pace, each thrust making your walls cling to his girth.

The moans Miguel let out were downright pornographic and they filled the room. The room is filled with your combined screams, grunts, and the sound of your skin slapping against eachother

Miguel: “Oh my fucking god baby, you’re so fucking tight Aaagh! Look how fucking good your pretty little cunt is taking me. I SAID FUCKING LOOK AT ME WHEN I FUCK YOU!” he screamed and pulled you in by your throat extracting a loud whimper from you

You couldn’t stop squirming in his hold, his cock was hitting every spot so perfectly

Miguel: “Look at it baby, look at the mess you’re making.” You glanced down at where the two of you connected. Your essence mixing together with his and glazing his shaft. The milky ring that started to form at the base of his shaft made Miguel’s cock twitch

Y/N: “Your so big Miggy, you stretch me so good every fucking time. No one fucks me like you do!”

Suddenly Miguel flips you over and shoves your face into the mattress. You feel a hard slap against your ass, it brings out a moan so sexy Miguel felt as if he could cum right then and there.

Miguel: “Fucking right baby nobody fucks this pussy like I do.” He groans while shoving his cock back in side of you, “If he ever tries to touch you again I’ll rip out his throat.” He whispers in your ear, his new possessiveness made you absolutely feral

His strokes are different now, they’re slow and deep

Y/N: “Miggy I’m so close, I’m almost there!” You sniffled

Miguel: “Beg for it, or I’ll pull out and leave you here to finish yourself off.” He lied of course, he was too close to cumming to stop now but he wanted to here you cry for his release

Y/N: “Please daddy! I want to feel you pump my pussy full of your cum. Please give it to me!” You cried with tears brimming from your eyes. His eyes widened at your request, you had never asked him to cum inside you before

Miguel: “Good Girl. GOOD. FUCKING. GIRL.” He growled putting a harsh thrust between each word

Miguel: “Fuck…Uuugh Fuck baby! I’m so close, so fucking close. I’m gonna paint you with my seed ~fuck~. You want that cariño? Want me to fuck my babies into you? Take daddy’s cum like a good little slut. FUCKING TAKE IT!”

Y/N: “OH FUCK MIGGY!”, You clench around Miguel one last time as he pulls a violent orgasm from you

Miguel throws his head back letting out the most guttural moan you had ever heard from him and finally finishes inside you. His hips spasm and shake, refusing to move until he was sure you took ever drop of him. He stays hurried inside you for a few more seconds then eventually pulls out his softening member.

Your breathing settles and you feel Miguel lay down and pull you in next to him, it brings you so much peace hearing his heartbeat again. His hands loving rub down your back and strokes your shoulder blades, something Miguel regularly did if he thought he was a little too rough during sex. It was silent for the next few minutes, but not an uncomfortable one, one that allowed the two of you to enjoy each other’s warmth.

Miguel: “It feels so good to be back in a bed I can fit in, Peters twin size was terrible.” You both chuckled

Y/N: “Oh my god that must have been awful, I’m sorry no wonder you looked like you hadn’t slept in days.”

Miguel: “Don’t be, I did it to myself…I was kind of a dick.” He said and pulled your head into his chest

Miguel never wanted to stop feeling like this, he never wanted to stop feeling safe with you. He’d never forgive himself for how he treated you but he’d spend whatever time he had with you making it up to you. And he prayed to whatever God or presence that ruled over this world, that the canon wouldn’t take you from him. For the first time in a long time Miguel was truly, effortlessly happy.

Miguel: “You know you were never a replacement, right baby? I don’t need you to be anyone else but you.”

Y/N: “I know…I love you Miguel.”

Miguel: “I love you too Y/N, always.”

[toyhouse-code-hell]

a bit of an appreciation post to everyone who asked for a code??? I'm yapping.

that is. a baffling(is it baffling? ive never seen triple digit codes but maybe this is normal) amount of toy house codes

Ok I'm going to do math here. I'm rounding up to an even 500 codes since the 500th code was given to a friend like within 3 days of me making the blog and inspired me to make it.

500 codes, with 2 new codes per week is 250 weeks. 250 weeks is 4.8 years for the codes I have not generated.

For total codes I have ever given, I have 5 pages of generated codes, with 100 codes per page, with the final page having 86. Taking my remaining 134 codes, I have had a total of 620 codes, totaling almost six years of premium to get that many codes.

Getting codes was my main reason to get premium since the site has been invite only since I joined in 2017. And now that I've gotten into web coding, having premium to attempt CSS and possibly make my own profile codes is incredibly exciting!!

And that's not to mention that people sell the codes, too. Codes for art means you're asking for people to undersell their art/you're underselling your own art. Codes for money is... Dubious as hell. Minimum premium is 1 month at 4.95 USD, which is 4 weeks, which is 8 codes. That makes 1 code worth 0.61 USD. NOBODY'S art is worth less than a dollar.

I've had "ask me for a toyhouse code" on my main tumblr, my artfight, and my toyhouse itself, but I've never had THIS LEVEL of interaction for any post I've made offering codes. It's made me super happy to finally give out these codes en masse and for people to be happy. I didn't think I would get even 30 asks. I have gotten over 360.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

So thanks to everyone for being so nice when asking, for giving me happy birthday messages, fun facts, little text creatures, song recommendations (if you read this THANK YOU the song was perfect to begin an oc playlist I've been struggling to start), and just being silly in my asks. It's made me very happy and I appreciate it.

So ya. Clay sappy yapping hour is over.

[spopsalt]

Hi!!

This will be a bit more of a personal rant / ramble about spop if that's okay!

So like I was around 11 when the first season of spop came out. My sister followed Nate and was very excited for the project so we watched it, and we both really liked it!!

So each time every season came out we watched it and came up with fan theories and all that jazz! Keep in mind, we never really rewatched seasons in between. So we watched season 2, waited around half year and then watch season 3 when it came out. So we never watched season 2 again in between those months. This makes it that you forget some things, but that was alright.

I think this is the way the show is meant to be watched. It was enjoyable, we came up with theories, we came up with ships, we bonded with the characters. Season 4 was my favourite season because of all the tension and drama!!

And then well, season 5 was a bit of a letdown, but yeah sure! That's fine, y'know. I am not a shipper at all, my sister is aware at this point that her ships are never really popular so she didn't have her hopes up (she ships glimmadora). She also followed Nate so she knew that he liked c//a and stuff.

Anyways, when the show was finished, people really started watching it because of the lgbt representation. This always felt weird to me? It didn't make sense? I didn't watch Spop with the idea in mind that c//a would become canon in the end. Which made the show a whole lot easier to watch.

I also felt like.. it wasn't really the point of the show at all? There was just a kiss at the end that was about the romance the show had gotten, I didn't get it (im aromantic asexual so maybe that's why).

I have a lesbian friend (they/she) for example, who watched the show for c//a. Which is fine, they really like it and they relate to c/tra, due to trauma and stuff. It's just that it felt so.. weird talking to them about the show. Because everything about the show kinda felt like it was about c//a for them? Just like how you anti-spop blogs talk about how c//a shippers can make any scene about c//a. That's how it felt. Now I didn't really mind, but it felt odd to me.

Either way. At some point, me and my sister finally convinced my other sister to join our rewatch. Which was,, tough. Well, it was alright, in the sense that, I just focused on my favourite characters and (platonic) relationships. (Entrapta! Scorpia! Glimmer!! Adora!!! :D!!)

But the c//a kiss at the end made me physically cringe. (Literally)

I don't really have a point to make! I just believe that Spop isn't meant to be binge-watched? I feel like? I really really enjoyed my first watch, and I have very conflicted feelings about it (due to nostalgia too. dt being the first enban ive ever seen on tv?? mindblowing!!).

I like it. But also as an emotional abuse survivor, it also is just.. tough. All in all it's just, a bit, disappointing?

I guess that's it :) that's my ramble.

I'm not sure if anyone has any similar experiences, as pretty much everyone I know watched it after all seasons came out and it has risen in popularity.

Have a nice day!! Love ur blog

Awwwww thanks for your kind words, also it's ok, the ask buttons says "Rant with Me!" for that reason, I love hearing rants! But yeah, I personally was never that big of a fan, but it's good that you like it! But yeah the representation is definitely bad, the only bisexual character get in m x f ships, which is fine, ofc bisexual people don't have to date only people of the same gender, but...they never show attraction towards other people of the same gender?! The only bi characters get in m x f ships, one of them was extremely rushed, and one of them was creepy considering it looked like an adult dating a teen. Also the main couple is literally just a victim falling back into the cycle and kissing her sister who literally gave her trauma.

[magioffire]

alright ive been meaning to do this for a while but never had the balls to do it

ive beencleaning out my blog of inactive blogs and it kinda made me realize...woah, theres a lot of blogs here that have showed no interest in interacting, and blogs that im not sure how to interact with. so in an attempt to keep my sanity motivation for this page, i will be doing a big following clean up. i kinda expected this to happen because when i first made this blog i set out a lot of feelers and didn’t consider what i would *actually* be able to do over time..

i realize that during this time of year not as many people are active, so i will only be unfollowing inactive blogs that have been inactive for longer than two months. as far the rest: i will be unfollowing people who have been following for a while but have made no move to interact or show no interest in my blog. likewise, i will be going through and unfollowing blogs i just cant see my muse interacting with in any fruitful way. its nothing personal, and if you end up unfollowed but *did* have an idea/a desire to interact with me, you can message me and we can talk about it! however its become quite disheartening and overwhelming the disparity between numbers and actual engagement on the blog. i would rather have my mutual count be reflective of people i can truly engage with just to keep my blog less overwhelming and in an effort to not have my blog become a place i dread coming to.

please like this post if you would like to remain mutuals. please only like this post if you actually intend to interact in some way at some point (even if its just ooc interaction, i do appreciate people who do that even if we dont rp). please dont like it just because you want to keep a follower.

people who dont need to worry about this post: 1. long term rp partners (aka we’ve been consistently rping for more than a few months) 2. people i talk to regularly ooc  (aka we’ve been consistently talking for more than a  few months) 3. personal/non-rp blogs im in mutuals with (likely ties into the first two) 4. very new mutuals/followers (aka people who have been following for less than a month)

i will be circulating this post around for until next sunday (11/4/22) and then ill do the big clean.

[sillyfriendssharingablog]

Bloody Tiger iceberg with explanations

If you don't know what an iceberg is: an iceberg is a type of template, where in the highest levels you put light fact or theories about something, and the more you go down more dark and sick the things become.

I did this with my Az, with all the facts from the fic until the latest chapter. TW: VERY heavy theames:

Level 1 (very soft and easy things, most People that follow our blog know)

Azedi's norturing nature: Azedi had to take care of her siblings since she was young, so she has developed a norturing nature for anything that is smal

Azedi's bi

Azedi's dream: to live a normal life, away from war, away from chains.

Azedi's love for music

Azedi's eyes: key element of the fic

Azedi is a cat person

Azedi and Ocelot: their iconic mutual hate

Lay laya: Azedi's grandmother's lullaby

Level 2 (still kinda soft but not so much)

Azedi has adhd (even though Im not really sure that Ive portrayed it right in her :( )

Azedi has sensorial sensibility

Azedi and Eli's breakup: literally the whole point of my main fic

Afghan civil war (and Azedi's infancy during it)

Akam: Azedi's brother that she rencounters in her adulthood in chapter 13

Azedi (as a character) is a metaphor for anarchism

Level 3 (surface level angst)

Azedi's coma in chapter 19

Azedi's toxic relationship in prison: Azedi had an older girlfriend when she was in prison that was very toxic towards her, even though Azedi only loved her to cope with the loss of Eli in her life

Azedi was forced to be an adult even before she knew what the word "child" meant

Azedi and Eli are kinda toxic: he is very sticky with her, and he is kinda the cause of her becoming a professional killer (and other stuff that happens post fic)

Azedi loosing her eye in chapter 19

Level 4 (not Just angsty, straight up very sad stuff)

Azedi's relationship with her body: from the abuse of he rmother, Azedi in her teen years mostly but also in her early 20s had a twisted vision of her body, finding it unproportionated and ugly. Especially since in her teens she was underweight, she would put on several baggy clothes not only because their texture gave her comfort, but also to hide herself

unaliving herself attempts: most notable is when she was in the jungle and tried to drown herself. She delevolep talassophobia afterwards.

her father: he was literally the cause of everything in her life

sh: Azedi used to c*t herself

her prison

her mother

Azedi's substances addiction: she in her adulthood was addicted to many drugs, that caused her to waste all the money she had

Azedi has worked for mafias: since she is an hitwoman, it's logical that some of her clients where members of local gangs or mafias.

PTSD

Level 5: (traumatic experiences and fucked up stuff)

her abduction and her forced to become a childsoldier: after running away from home, she was found by some XOF soldiers, and forced to join them.

her homelessness life: in New York, after the kingdom of the flies, she lived most of her years homeless, in the dirty streets of the Bronx

Azedi was forced to become an hired killer out of poverty

Azedi's panic episodes

Chapter 10: I don't need to explain. Just read it and you'll know.

running away from her home and living in a forest unprotected for months

Level 6: (very fucked up stuff)

Azedi's mother attempting to unalive her

the torture she perished during her child soldier years (12 to 13 years old): the soldiers that had took her in treated her like a little toy for 2 whole years, abusing of her in all ways, damaging permentely her mental health

Azedi killed all of her rapists

SA (Sexual Abuse)

child marriege

Level 7: (hell)

just read it yourself. I'm too disgusted to write it down again...

[macherie-cola]

I am back on this blog after about 5 months (cause I was too focused on my league sideblog) to say that I went to the IVE cocnert (Show What I Have Tour) and I have THOUGHTS

1) I went with my mom cause my sister is still at college and I didn’t have anyone else to go with, she was more then happy to go with me tho (Her bias is Yujin, mine’s Liz and Wonyoung)

2) I knew only pretty people stan IVE and all but OMG the OUTFITS everyone was wearing?? So much of those platform heels and the ribbons everywhere and the Love Dive school uniforms like YALL UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT (I wore something that looked like the black dresses with the stockings in I AM era, complete with the pearl necklace). Personally one of my favorite parts about kpop concerts are to see the outfits everyone wears lol

3) Yujin and Leeseo, I hope you know your Woman Like Me cover changed my life thank you

4) And Gaeul with 7 Rings holy shit

5) The horror VCR followed by Hypnosis and My Satisfaction???

6) All Night was such a good way to end the concert

7) Also as I was waiting for the concert I saw someone carry the IZ*ONE lightstick with them like DAMN that was kinda foul- not against anyone carrying other unrelated groups lightstick to concerts and anyone says otherwise is wrong (Sometimes we don’t have money and all) but I just thought it was funny that it HAPPENED to be the IZ*ONE lightstick

8) Also while we were waiting I saw this other girl wear this cat ear beanie and it just so happened that they had red hair and I know I’m too brainrotted by Heartsteel to immediately think of Sett at that moment

[lunar-eclipse-bunnies]

NINJAGO TAROT DRAFT IVE HAD FOR 8 MONTHS imagine them as either just designs or with deeper meanings, i'm too tired to do a lot of analysis but i Am Right. prefacing this with YES i have character biases, and YES they are present here<3 its my blog ill post what i want (no i will not be tagging the characters i rag on i do not want to be bothered about them)

The Fool - lloyd. not that lloyd is a fool, but he is the blank slate, the character written to be of infinite opportunity. he can be reckless and innocent, naive and idealistic, gullible but free. even this late into the series his sense of self continues to change and evolve, never settling in a single place; the upright is young lloyd, our youthful and ignorant protagonist. the reverse is current lloyd, weighed down by the actions of not only his father, mother and uncle, but himself. his card should have 2 panels, one with babey lloyd and the other with older lloyd. maybe juggling his friends' elemental symbols, just for spice. spicy clownery.

The Magician - this is jay, hands down. i'm picking things/characters based on upright and reversed meanings, and while jay debuts as an determined and powerful character, he slips pretty quickly into the card's reverse meaning, often utilizing "manipulation, cunning, and deception" to get his way. most of the time it is subtle, as his manipulative tendencies have been slowly elaborated on over the course of the series. he can be summoning lightning or something with his card.

The High Priestess - skylor. again, the reverse is past skylor, during her brief betrayal, and the upright is present skylor, a wise ally and friend. i want her in her father's snake hat and in his chair. thank u

The Empress - misako, purely for the reverse meaning. i dont care about her so her card can be whatever

The Emperor - garmadon, same reason and also gotta match with the (ex) wifey! give my guy garm his 4 arms too pls

The Hierophant - kai. source: just trust me bro

The Lovers - pixal & zane, duh. they literally share zane's fighting skill after she receives half his heart in season 3, she and he are inseparable (re: essentially headmates) for the following 4 seasons, and are often depicted as the healthiest "het" couple in the show. they are DEVASTATED when they lose each other, their sense of balance. they're in love your honor damnit. HAVE THEM EMBRACE.

The Chariot - the bounty. mostly because it represents a home for the ninja for a good while in the show and is the only real space they can enact control and their wills on for a while. also because the significance of the bounty crashing in season 8 really encompasses the reverse meaning. just replace the chariot w the boat in the card.

Strength - cole. not just because of his super strength, but because he is the MOST compassionate and brave character in this entire goddamn show. say what you will but cole has been through death and back, dropped from a hundred story drop, lost his friends, his sensei, his best friend, AND had to resurrect his mother's legacy with his bare hands. this man has never once been shown to back down from a cause, take the coward's way out, or plain give up because he's the most tied to this ninja morality. when cole is disheartened, he takes it out on himself, gets mad at HIMSELF, never on other people like jay, kai, lloyd and even nya are prone to. give my boy a goddamn break. please let him chill w rocky in his card :) maybe give him his lava arms tho

The Hermit - WU DUH. meaning fits but also his card should have him drinking tea with a three-way split panel behind him showing off the places he found his students. good day

The Wheel of Fortune - cloud kingdom. cloud kingdom. damn those nerdy little bastards.

Justice - AKITA AKITA. karmic justice ring a bell, anyone? we can weigh her mask on the scale or something, just let her have her moment :)

The Hanged Man - yallre gonna hate me but this is actually zane. sacrifice is the NAME of the card. he keeps sacrificing himself, even when it ISNT needed. would love it if his card had him tied to the forbidden spinjitzu scroll, that would be pog

Death - morro. HA u thought you could escape him lol no. have him be bitchass. maybe show his ghost hanging around his skeleton or something. make it green

Temperance - ... ronin. i had some trouble with this, but i think this card captures him pretty well.

The Devil - Harumi. mostly because i already drew her a card, but also because of the reversed meaning.

The Tower - the great devourer. i think thats explanation enough.

The Star - ... benthomaar. am i jsut adding the jade ninja characters at this point? yes, yes i am. do they still fit? aboslutely. give my guy bentho a FUCKIN crown

The Moon - ECHO ECHO PLEASE. deception? illusions??? thats their bread and goddamn butter!!!! PUT THE LIGHTHOUSE AT NIGHT IN THEIR CARD, YOU COWARDS!!!

The Sun - vania. vania. vania. vania. will i elaborate? no!

Judgement - pixal, hands down. calm evaluation? being highly aware of yourself???? thats just pix, babey!!! and the reverse, FUCK, self doubt,,,, she rarely has those moments but!! when she DOES!!! AHHHHHH/POS

The World - NYA NYA NYA. NYA IN HER ELEMENTAL FORM HEAR ME OUT GUYS. in the upright meaning its her early season self, doing well on her own, achieving and succeeding and being fulfilled, and the reversed is her skybound to present self, stagnating as a character, no longer succeeding on her own or through her own means. the card also has to do with cycles, and considering how many times nya has died or been forced to change, well. who else would this card be???

[sleepy-vix]

I found this interesting books ask :

https://www.tumblr.com/dnana-2809-blog/749706502296813568/bookish-asks?source=share

Do you mind if I ask, no. 13, 14, 15, 18, 34, and 50? Thanks...😁

oooh

13: "Name a book with a really bad movie/tv adaption"

ummm i dont actually have an answer to this. i don't really watch movies/tv very much and the adaptions i watch for my fav books arent that bad.

14: "Name a book where the movie/tv adaption actually was better than the original"

oooh i really liked little women (2019). ik i cant really say confidently that it is better than the books because i havent read all of them, i've only read little women, so 1/4 of the books, but i just think the movie is so great. i loved the book and it was cozy and precious but i ADORE the movie. yk?

15: "What book changed your life?"

hmmm this is a little sad but i wouldn't say any book changed my life... that's not because i havent read any good books though, it's more due to the fact that my life feels like a river with strong currents and i'm only floating along- with barely any freewill or the ability to change my fate (if u believe in fate. i dont believe in fate but i just thought it was appropriate to say)

thoughhh i guess if i had to pick one then it'd probably one from my childhood... harry potter? i hate jk rowling ofc etc etc but harry potter was what got me into the world of books i think... well ive always been a reader but harry potter made me really obsessed with being a reader, and the months after reading it was magical and full of joy

18: "Which character from a book is the most like you?"

oh, definitely tori spring. it will always be tori spring. she is me at my best and she is me at my worst and she is me in my dreams and in real life and in every life that i have lived and will live. no, i will not explain.

34: "List five OTPs"

ooh hmmm. okay this isnt in order tho:

1. Alice and Henry from 'if you could see the sun' (it is my favourite romance book T-T)

2. Camilla and Henry from 'the secret history' ("you think i'd hurt you?" AGXVJDSJDB i'm tearing my hair out)

3. James and Oliver from 'if we were villains' (it's been years and i am still not over them. i will never be, i'm afraid)

4. Wylan and Jesper from 'six of crows' (they are so precious to me. i would kill for them)

5. tori and michael from 'solitaire'

honourable mention: rin and nezha from 'the poppy war'. i didnt know if they counted since they were always more enemies than they were lovers... sigh. i miss my doomed-by-the-narrative blorbos

50: "Why do you love to read?"

i've always been a little afriad of living life, tentative with my friendships, scared of adventure, afraid of change, etc etc. so i like to live vicariously through characters. actually, my love for reading has many layers and branches of reasoning to it, but i find that this is the happiest and plainest answer i can offer, so it is all i will offer (for now? maybe i'll make a longer post some other time

thank you SO MUCH for this ask :DDD IT WAS SO FUN

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 20/11/2023

88811

Season 4 Episode 2 Featured on: DJ Professor K Presents: 24​/​7 FUNKY FRESH BEATS FROM TOKYO​-​TO

Ripped by Anonite

Only a month ago with Give Me the Fantasy, I made public my affection and overall adoration for chiptune rock band Anamanaguchi (who just recently scored the recent Netflix series Scott Pilgrim Takes Off!). Little did I know, that I'd been adoring them for longer than I'd known - this gem of a rip, with as strangely cryptic of a track name as 88811, turned out to have been yet another piece of Anamanaguchi music, one that had been sitting in my playlists since its initial album release.

I think its really fascinating how many rippers end up committing themselves to small passion projects on the channel, sometimes entirely on their own - think of something like Collision Chaos Good Future JP [CD Beta Mix] and the other Beta Mix arrangements done by ripper Jass, as an example. 88811 and its ripper Anonite fall into a similar category - rather than arranging Sonic CD music to sound akin to Genesis Sonic music, however, Anonite's love is wholly directed toward one of the console's most beloved hardcore titles. Thunder Force IV.

Listen, I'm going to keep it plain and simple - if you've never heard the music of Thunder Force IV, you've never lived. What Technosoft were able to accomplish with SEGA's 16-bit machine is nothing short of miraculous, a type of sound that can ONLY exist on the Genesis, yet simultaneously excels far beyond the limits of what one thinks would be possible on it. ANY track arranged into the instrumentation of Thunder Force IV is bound to sound excellent, yet Leave the Past Behind simultaneously feels like such a perfect pick - Anamanaguchi's blend of chiptune and distorted guitars is a match made in heaven for Thunder Force IV's shredding synths. The rip is a marriage, a full on celebration, of two of the most unsung legends in the scene of VGM, from two games whose entire legacy effectively rests on their breathtaking scores. One, a shoot-em-up from a long-gone franchise, on a console only remembered by the mainstream for its edgy platformers - the other, a game that was long left delisted, only truly remembered for its unavailability rather than for the terrific soundtrack it bolstered.

All of that celebration, that love, and of course the utmost perfect quality in its arranging, yet...it still sits below 15K views. Anonite has since left the internet altogether, and this rip amidst all of his other Thunder Force IV contributions have become lost to the sands of time. Yet that's part of what drives me to keep this blog going - to keep shining a much-needed spotlight onto the rips that truly deserve it. Thank you, Technosoft, Toshiharu Yamanishi, Takeshi Yoshida, Naosuke Arai, and Anamanaguchi. And thank you, Anonite.