#not u godmodding me..........

[likehells]

she didn’t know when exactly she’d started bracing for the moment things turned. maybe it had always been there, humming low beneath the skin like a fault line, waiting for the tremor. maybe that was the real reason she never let herself reach too far — not because she didn’t want to, but because she knew the shape of what came after. the silence. the shift. the slow retreat. but cash? he was there, ridiculous and golden and tilted toward her like he couldn’t help it. like the gravity between them wasn’t something to be feared but something to be leaned into. it wasn’t that she didn’t know kindness — she did. had cupped it in careful hands before, had let it rest against her ribs like sunlight through gauze. she knew the shape of sincerity, the way it warmed the room without asking for anything in return. but this was something else, wasn’t it? something quieter, deeper. not loud enough to name, but steady in its pulse, threading itself through the spaces between their words, blooming in the hush. she could feel it — not just in the air between them, charged and waiting, but in herself. a slow-blooming ache, unfamiliar only because she hadn’t let it grow before. it stirred beneath the surface, gentle and insistent, as if asking to be let in.

but nety had always known the architecture of solitude — its clean lines, its predictable comfort, the way it never shifted when she leaned too hard. people didn’t offer that kind of certainty. people looked at you a certain way and then asked for things without ever saying them out loud. so she backpedaled, not abruptly but carefully, like someone tiptoeing from the edge of something she might’ve wanted, if it didn’t look so much like falling. her offerings came piecemeal now — slivers of honesty, tested like sea-glass against her palm. not enough to invite anything in. just enough to prove to herself she could still hold it. "oh, really? touchy subject for ya?" she said, arching a brow like it was the most natural response in the world, like she hadn’t said it with a grin sharp enough to suggest she maybe didn’t mean it. there was a beat. "i’m thinking cursive. maybe a little gold foil. it’ll be a real collector’s item." she left it there — his voice had gone soft around the corners, and she could still feel the echo of his grief sitting quiet beside hers, like two stones in the same pocket. she didn’t touch it, not exactly. just let herself linger there in the in-between, where the silence was its own kind of answer.

and when he spun on his heel, showboating like he’d already claimed victory, something eased at the edges of her. something that might’ve been fear, or might’ve been hope — it was hard to tell the difference anymore. her arms crossed loosely, mouth tugging into a smile that didn’t quite know whether to laugh or linger. "lebron, huh?" she said, dry as summer grass, but there was a fondness woven through it, quiet and rooted. "you’re lucky i’m merciful. the last guy who talked that much got taken out by an eight-year-old and cried into his funnel cake." but then — softer, as she stepped to match his pace, gaze tilted up toward him beneath the weight of the sun: "i didn’t say i wanted to spend time with you." a pause. "i said i might indulge you. big difference." her shoulder brushed his lightly, more a question than a statement. and maybe that was the answer, too. she walked beside him, letting the moment stretch the way it wanted to. sweet and stupid and a little terrifying. and for once, she didn’t try to make it smaller than it was. "and you can't hold it against me when i embarrass you in front of everyone. i swear i won't gloat. for long."

IF THERE WAS A GOD, SHE'D STRIKE HIM DOWN WHERE HE STANDS. middle of the town green, goddamn giggling at the prospect of nety cabral teaming up with him to stage a petty coup against a relatively harmless teenage dj (barring a second run of radioactive, evidently). and god help him, he laughed when she said elphaba, that small kind of huff that cracked open around the edges, sidling between fondness and grief. “yeah, well,” he managed, eyes flicking up to meet hers like it was muscle memory by now, like not looking would’ve hurt more. “if the hat fits.” what he didn’t say: that he’d looked at the tiny sunglasses this morning. that he’d held them in his hand for a minute too long, thumb tracing over the scratched-up plastic like it was some kind of relic. didn’t say that his mom used to message him every year on the morning of the potluck with ready to wow the town, my little rocket man? and how today the silence of his inbox felt like a small, mean thing gnawing at the edges of his chest. didn’t say how he missed complaining about lugging her gaudy, ridiculous bedazzled cooler around in the heat, how the empty patch of grass next to his blanket made his stomach pitch in that way he hadn’t figured out how to name yet. so no- he didn’t say any of that. never did. wouldn’t know how if he tried. but maybe she knew anyway. nety had this way of tracing the outlines of a silence and cradling it in steady palms. like it was worth keeping, not something to cover up with bad jokes or fill with late-night overshares and sheepish apologies. he felt her in the marrow of him, in the spot just behind his ribs that he only noticed when she was near.

destiny. she said it like a punchline, but he kind of believed in it. at least in this version- her, standing just a little too close to be casual and not quite close enough to be anything else. he leaned toward her without meaning to, like the gravity between them was stronger than whatever self-preservation instinct he had left. “lemon bar stationery?” he whistled, tilting his head like she’d just crossed some sacred, invisible line. “now you’re messing with family.” a teasing grin, even as his thumb kept worrying against the skin of his palm again. sunshine so thick it clung to them. and the backs of his knees too. nerves crawling under his skin like the world’s most organized ant colony. the warbled sound of a badly tuned guitar somewhere across the lawn, comically well timed. everything felt a little too loud, like the universe was leaning closer just to watch what happened next. he let her walk ahead, just a half-step. just enough to feel the heat of her brush past his shoulder like a sunburn he wasn’t in any rush to soothe. then he fell in beside her, but lagged- barely. like cornhole was a distant second to whatever this was blooming in the hush between footsteps. he was buying time. he knew it. playing it safe with sparkle, stretching the moment like taffy when she let him, sweet and slow and a little sticky around the edges. not because he was afraid of the end- he just didn’t want it to tip. he could live there in the golden middle of it forever, if she let him.

“you're sure you're ready?” he asked, cocking a brow. “don't let the pretty face fool you. i’ve been described as the lebron james of backyard games. and by ‘described’ i mean self-proclaimed, but the title holds either way. statistically.” then he spun on his heel, started walking backward just to show off, arms stretching overhead like he’d already won something. showboating. peacocking. ridiculous in a hawaiian shirt and cargo pants and acting like it was chainmail. "i'm just saying," all fake humility and crooked charm, "spirit's fragile. don't wanna break yours too early in the day. we just hit the fun part where you admitted you wanted to spend time with me."

[spirestar]

@fortruechaos : just tell them i hurt my leg. (reverse tho so it's amy..godmodding you btw)

Amy doesn't like admitting defeat--Who does?--but getting hurt in front of her friends frustrates her. There's not a person she knows that isn't strong in their own right. Fast, powerful, intelligent, kind. It can be hard sometimes to not feel a little like she's running behind them, even when she's actually leading a charge. Like today.

The amount of badniks attacking a smaller settlement had led her to call for backup and, surprisingly, the first person to answer her was Shadow. Unsurprisingly, the two of them were more than enough to take out several waves. The hill the town was on made it easy to defend--They hardly had to speak the whole time, until a larger ship arrived, forcing them to enter it to stop more of the reinforcements.

"I don't want anyone from the village to worry. It'll be fine, really!" Amy hugs her Piko-Piko hammer to her chest as Shadow dashes down the hallway, a loud timer counting down from the loudspeakers above them. "Oh, turn right, she says quietly, remembering the path they took before.

They aren't worried about not escaping before the ship explodes, Shadow and Sonic are faster than anyone else alive, (which is why he's carrying her now, of course) but they are embarrassed to have taken a few zaps to the side while defending the terminal so Shadow could set off the ship's self-destruct. If she was just a little faster like them, she could have just smashed an escape for them out of the ship's hull instead of being saved. It's silly to be upset about it, though, so she tries to keep her voice light, even though her leg is aching numbly, surely dripping blood on Shadow's hands. "I didn't think it'd be you that came to help, hehe," Amy swallows, nestling her head closer to her hammer in the hopes of being easier for Shadow to carry and still teasing softly, "you're a real hero, huh?"

[cortvdos]

WITH:  magdalena  @memoryservves WHERE:  café marta. WHEN:  01:09 pm

he  weaves  his  way  through  cafe  marta,  coffee  in  one  hand  matcha  in  the  other,  his  treat  as  promised  —  he’s  careful  not  to  spill  either  as  he  dodges  mismatched  furniture  and  cafe  patrons  (  he  isn’t  successful,  winces  as  heat  hits  skin,  scorches  his  wrist  lightly  ).    magdalena  is  still  just  where  he  left  her,  a  table  by  the  window,  waiting  in  the  sun.  he  avoids  the  various  stacks  of  paper  he’s  left  scattered  about  the  table  as  he  places  the  drinks,  half  smiles  as  he  takes  his  seat,  “  it  was  almond  milk,  right  ?  ”  sips  his  coffee,  “  oh,  by  the  way.  i  definitely left  my  copy  of  infinite  jest  back  in  new york,  but  if  you’re  still  interested  i  can  lend  it  to  you  when  we’re  back.  ”  small  talk  before  he  asks  for  flattery,  how  civilized. 

[quackity1999]

I'm going to blow up LN.

are you trying to freak me out? i'm fucking tired, dude. shoo.

[fetidfruit]

Sometimes Patti liked to roam the ruins at night and smoke consecutive cigarettes, picture their lungs as a spit roast pig that couldn't stop turning over ferociously licking flames. They had phases where sleeping got difficult, when lying in bed only meant tossing back and forth, wondering if they'd ever learn how to forget. So, wandering weathered stone and field under the moonlight, grass half-wet from rain hours past, her second cigarette just lit. She only realised that somebody else must've had the same idea when she'd stepped up onto a rock, one footed on the jut of it with arms held out for balance; a figure just over there, partly obscured by the shade of a tree. Patti sucked, exhaled, then hopped down from their vantage point. It was difficult to distinguish specifics in a night as black as that. Unknowingly guessing features out of Jonathan's face in the amorphous shadows, she tipped her head, smoke unfurling from the cigarette between her fingers only to vanish into some other realm unknown. The rest of the world was eerily quiet save for the wind in the trees. "Are you the mothman?" @partshift

[lunaetis]

▸▸ [ @eternadyne ( soma ) || starter call. ]

─「アリサ」─  " bored ? of you ? what's gotten into you today ? " the mirth in her tone was obvious enough if the soft glint in her azure hues didn't give that away already. it was nothing but adoration in the way she looked at him. was that why he looked so pensive all the way here ? especially now that they had a little time to engage in their stargazing session they didn't get to do for a long time now. " do you think you're a boring man, mister soma ? "

[bhaalborn]

i just played three hours of inscryption (kaycee's mod) and got all the way to the cabin and died. ima eat a lil snack to calm down omg

[gravesung-moving]

@xplosionbomb.

starter call!

IT'S NO SECRET THAT CHIAKI IS a bit of an oddball among their classmates. sure, she gets along with everyone well enough — especially ochako and mina, loud and bubbly and easy to match with her own uptick in energy, and midoriya, a fellow strategizer whose mind moves just as fast as her own. but alone, there is something of a distance to her: either she's staring, mismatched eyes wide and attentive, taking in every detail of a companion's battle tactics to add to her inner database of strategies, or she's staring off into space in a glassy, awestruck reverie, as if she's miles away from everyone else.

in truth, it's hard to stay grounded when possibility stretches out in an endless tapestry all around you.

but there are some people who can shake her out of it simply by existing nearby, and the familiar footsteps that echo into her range of hearing belong to one of them. chiaki isn't afraid of bakugou, not anymore. upon gathering for the entrance exams, his was a face she recognized instantly from the worst days of her middle school bullying, before she transferred schools and started tinting stark-white hair, eyelashes and brows black to fit in better. not that the albinism was the only, or even primary, thing she was teased about: being poor, having a quirk they thought was silly ( what do you mean threads? you gonna wrap villains up in a blankie? ), the strange, drifting way about her that sharpened into focus at seemingly unpredictable times.

never mind that she was an award-winning dancer and gymnast at the age of twelve. as if that mattered.

midoriya's face she recognized too. not as sharply as bakugou's meanmugging, but an echo of a boy with no quirk who was never mean to her. she's glad to see him glow so bright now — she'd always wanted to talk to him more before she transferred.

at bakugou's footsteps, she no longer flinches the way she used to. instead, there is that minute sharpening of the faraway air about her. the glassy, doll-like stare goes calm and focused as she regards him from where she stands at the window, waiting for her tea to cool on an end table nearby.

❝ oh hey, bakugou-san. what are you doing up at this hour? ❞

[inescroy]

arnauld.

her doctor had prescribed a healthy dose of fresh air and friendly faces. the air is sticky and the obnoxious sunglasses that mask her face do very little to dispel the paranoia of critiquing eyes as she leaves the house without the stroller. would arnauld's face be considered friendly ? friendly enough, she assumes, that he would not judge her for craving just a second of peace. friendly enough for her doctor to commend her efforts and fill a new scrip. she offers a smile, grateful that at the very least, her shades hide that the crinkles don't come close to her eyes. " your majesty ! " were they friendly enough him to be refered to on a first name basis ? " the duchess of aragon sent me a case of those wines. which one was it that you recommended ? " * / @vrnvuld

[hamadacare]

an ordinary day where tadashi bothers his little brother, @hamadaprodigy

“Hey, do you think you could-”

So suddenly, he is given undivided attention by his younger brother so promptly, it’s actually suspicious. Whether Hiro genuinely wanted to be polite to his sibling today or had something interesting on screen that couldn’t be shared with him was up for interpretation. Tadashi chooses to be suspicious that Hiro is hiding something in his phone because that’s what brothers do.

“What was that about? Huh? I bet you’re … looking up things, aren’t you?”

There goes a raise of an eyebrow and his playful tone to put the child on trial. And Tadashi’s staple smile, whether it was a curious or teasing one, was up to Hiro to decide.

[daemondaes]

So this is what it felt like to be a nerd. Or something like that. There had to be other high school clichés who found themselves trapped in lockers. She understood now the torture of an enclosed space. Intimately. This was a storage closet, to be certain, but that extra space didn't account for much when it was taken up by another body.

"hi cherry," @doctorvenko said.

"Petey." Cherry's mouth twisted to the side. "Could've given a little warning." He accompanied her to an extraordinarily run-of-the-mill exorcism, she went along with him to bust a ghost. Equality. It was only fair. What wasn't fair was how much longer his legs were than hers.

She'd trailed after her boy in beige as he chased after the entity, but once she turned the corner, he was gone. It would have been so easy to continue running forward, assuming their paths would converge again, except that there was more than one ghost, and without a proper proton pack, her preferred methods of banishing or binding took too long to set up on the go. Thus, she ducked behind the nearest door. The door, ideally, would have taken her to another room where she could prep. Instead, she had Peter breathing down her neck.

Literally.

Despite his typical height advantage, the dark, cramped quarters necessitated that Cherry shift onto a stool, a crate, a tool chest—some kind of sturdy rectangular object that kept her out of the way of Peter's toes. Now, he was at the perfect level to rest his head on her chest or shoulder. Being tall was weird. She frowned into the void. "Hey, wait. Were you gonna jump out and scare me?"

There were so few reasons for him to hide in here. Surely the specter wasn't that dangerous. If it were, she doubted Peter would let her shadow him at work. If it wasn't, it could still transform their liaison dangereuse into a ménage à trois by seeping through the door whenever it wanted. It was better not to stick around and find out.

"Look, I'm just gonna—" Cherry's words were swallowed by a gasp. Whatever she was standing on was not, in fact, capable of supporting her weight. As it buckled beneath her, she clung to the next sturdiest object to brace herself for the several-inch drop. In theory, it was a foolproof plan. In practice, she managed to yank Peter down to her level, crush their lips together, and land on his toes.

It was kind of impressive.

[flagellant]

I remember you being something of a scholar on christian theology. I have a question if you don't mind. My tumblr is full of people clowning on american conservative catholics that are angry that the pope basically fired that bishop in Texas, and the tumblr posters saying "lol u disagree with the pope that makes you disagree w/ god's word" or "that makes u a protestant" etc etc.

And while I do enjoy dunking on the trad caths, I think I heard at some point that the pope isn't always talking with his authority as god's most special boy on earth. That most of the time he is just being a human and therefore could be wrong/make errors. Not that I care about the jerk bishop losing his job, but I'm curious, how do we know when the pope is or is not talking with the authority of God backing him up? Does he have to say a special phrase at the start and end of the speech, or hold both hands up above his head, or something?

Okay so what you're referring to here is actually the concept known as papal infallibility, which is one of my favorite pieces of Catholic canon for one very simple reason:

You learn about it as being essentially the Pope is God's most special boy on Earth and what he says is always directly spoken to him from God and therefore is infallible. And if you are like me when you first hear about this concept, you will immediately get trapped in shower arguments for the rest of your life fantasizing about calling the Pope homophobic and arguing for the Catholic church to please stop being so goddamned homophobic all the time.

This is when you learn that papal infallibility is much more fallible than it is made out to be, and this is basically the source of the issue with Strickland, Torres, and any other Bishop that Francyman has decided to give the boot. See, papal infallibility isn't merely a divine play-pretend godmode button, it's a complex and intricate place within theological debate and Vatican hierarchical bureaucratic structure.

Without going into too much of a in-depth explanation, another way to think of papal infallibility is that it's essentially the Holy Roman Catholic version of the President of the United States declaring an executive order that bypasses the Senate. Infallibility is used for similar reasons--it's got a semi-strict set of rules attached to its usage, which means that the Pope is not constantly infallible, but rather that the Pope as God's chosen elect on Earth therefore commands His greatest attention, which allows the Pope direct intercession and communication with God on paths that the Church as a body should walk.

There are usually supposed to be bureaucratic machinations for dethrocking or deposing a bishop, much of which is directly connected to confirming and providing direct evidence for certain crimes that the Holy See would consider too serious to allow him to continue serving in his position. But the Pope is the divinely elected God-Emperor Best Favorite of Oily Josh and his Daddio Self, so generally speaking when it comes to the Pope, there's always the option baked in for him to say "Fuck you I'm the Pope and you're going to do what I say without precedent".

This is the core of the issue for the current Strickland debacle--there might not be hard-and-fast written rules stating that Strickland can be removed from office through traditional means, but Francis doesn't approve of what he's preaching and using his office for since it's causing the minorest of itty-bitty issues with his principled stance of being The Pope That Liberals Might Vaguely Not Hate As Much. So he's functionally exercising a form of papal infallibility by skipping over procedures and etiquette to tell Strickland "Fuck you I'm the Pope and you're going to do what I say without precedent", and Strickland is going "But I thought you would only do that to bishops who belong to brown countries :(", and here we are.

[janggeumja]

"𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝑰'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆"

——————————-

SLOW 18+ indie, Ask and Roleplay blog for “Jang Geum-ja from Netflix show Squid game.

loved by Sunshine | 21 | they/them | gmt 🇮🇪 |

Other blogs: @thanosw0rld, @salesman404 @kang388 @seonnyeo

Personal side blog: @sunshinerkive

RP THREAD LIST | OPEN STARTER: | CARRD:

Info & rules under the cut.

- 18+ indie, canon / heavily headcanon based roleplay + ask blog for Jang Geum-ja from squid game! written by sunshine. they/them 20+ gmt 10+ writing experience. please no godmodding, mary sues, controling my character!

I FOLLOW BACK FROM MY THANOS BLOG :)

- i don’t like being involved in drama: if i don’t vibe with you, i will peacefully block and go about my day. it’s to avoid seeing you on my timeline etc. that being said, don’t drag me into drama.

- open to asks, and rp threads, starters. anons welcome.

- minors viewer discretion is advised, i can't stop u from following. if you claim to be 18+ and i find out you are not. you WILL be blocked but be cautious that this profile contains graphic material (canon / au to squid games = death,gore, violence, drugs, elements, depression ,abuse, suicide etc.)

- if you wish to roleplay with geum-ja, just send an ask, or dm me if you wish.

- ocs & duplicates are welcome. along with canon characters and other characters from different universes.

- geum-ja is not available to be shipped! she is for platonic and parental roleplay only! (yes she can be anyones mom and grandma) ocs, please get to know her first before you want to establish a relationship! (more info in his carrd!)

- nsfw topics ARE NOT allowed. sfw only!

- no homophobia, transphobia, ableism, sexism, racism allowed on this blog. if you are caught displaying these actions via dms, or on my blog (not in roleplay that is discussed prior) you will be blocked.

- do not be weird. don’t be a creep. geum-ja does not automatically know you if you’re an oc. please get to know him before you jump in

happy role playing :)

——————————-

TAGS:

#janggeumja - all tagged posts

#geumja writes - long format roleplay / thread roleplay

#anons! - for anon asks

[0dividedby0haha]

slightly editing this intro post to be better for those who have to suffer the curse of pc (no read more button) so my dni and links and blogs are under the cut

ALSO I NEED MORE STRAWPAGE GIMMICKS PLZ SEND MORE THINGS TO MY STRAWPAGE I BEG OF U (just not art cuz i can’t receive art gimmicks rn bc of smth on the strawpage website)

my blog has basic dni, also please keep it pg-13 i want to keep the NSFW to a minimum, also please no extreme opinions such as: misogyny or transphobia/homophobia/etc. I want to keep this blog welcoming for as many ppl as possible, also DNI z00s, those types of people are not valid, animals CAN NOT consent. also if you are anti-endo DNI

please don’t send donation asks i can’t tell what is and what isn’t a bot and i can’t donate

I AM A MINOR

btw i try to tag certain things that might make my mutual eway uncomfortable (as per their request) so if you are also uncomfortable because of nsfw mentions in textposts feel free to block those tags! there’s kinda a scale of severity too, just thought i would mention that

will add more if i feel like it

roblox username: lol123abc456789althi

tumblr toshiro and zenkichi fanclub: https://www.tumblr.com/join/tvjiBYF_

tumblr komasan fanclub community: https://www.tumblr.com/join/My4rvb9E

komasan fanclub roblox group: https://www.roblox.com/communities/35716361/Komasan-fanclub#!/about

strawpage: https://0dividedby0.straw.page/

community for ppl to reblog in when post limit: https://www.tumblr.com/join/DrqfTa5Z

edit: masterpost now

blogs i own:

@regretehannibal

@theanon-kingdom (affiliated with but not directly linked to: @1nf3ct3d-x3 bc they gave me idea of kingsbond anon and anon kingdom, just wanted to credit them)

@teamrockets-wobbuffet (a gimmick blog i made of team rocket’s wobbuffet)

@your-fav-isnt-divorced (gimmick blog that is the opposite of @your-fav-is-divorced )

@pressure-confessions (a confessions blog ran by me and @idkjustamherelol, i am mod flashbeacon)

@totallyrealzero (an askblog i made after creating an oc of @z3r0th3h3r0’s blog)

@elosthetree (regretevator oc askblog)

@the-text-reverser (gimmick blog where i reverse text)

@the-velvet-room-real (gimmick blog where the velvet room and it’s residents run the blog)

@official-level-5 (gimmick blog co-ran by me and another person)

@liam-and-alice-rant (blog for dumb rants)

@the-vinki-slugcat (fanmade blog of the vinki from rain world)

@anonymouse-the-anon (blog made bc of a silly in @dollking081 ‘s blog)

@crab-thief (gimmick blog where i steal crabs)

@thursday-frog (the frog of thursdays)

@toothpasteshadowpolls (poll blog where people vote between characters with white and blue color schemes vs red and black color schemes)

@stuck-in-the-tumb1r-code (try (and fail) to save this guy from the tumblr code! one of my only rules though is no godmoding or being too OP got that?)

@0dividedby1haha (post limit blog)

interests/fandoms/special interests (keep in mind this list is VERY INCOMPLETE and i plan on hopefully updating whenever i can): epithet erased (i do not support jelloapocalypse anymore after they made death threats aimed at the creator of the manga one piece), dandy’s world (i do not support rox), moshi monsters, yo-kai watch (my fav is ykw2 bony spirits), ni no kuni, pokemon, regretevator, skylanders, roblox, persona (currently playing q2 and persona 5, will move onto p3r after persona 5), bocchi the rock!, video essays (specifically video game ones), jjba, roblox pressure, among us, minecraft, fortnite, the nintendo wii u, the nintendo 3ds, dougdoug, the minecraft server hoobs live, bofuri, by the grace of the gods, kuma kuma kuma bear, hi-fi rush, lego marvel superheroes (the one on wii u with the cosmic bricks), lego dc supervillains, the lego movie, lego, music, the duck paradox, deltarune, undertale, and inscryption.

[winterreigned]

𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝘂𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 , flying everywhere , constantly , drowning out rationality beneath thunderous wings. the voice in her head does wonders , controls her every emotion , action , word. sansa stark is a well oiled machine , and when something causes her to deviate from routine , she does not do well. interestingly enough , theon greyjoy is a linchpin in this wheel. despite this , it is an overwhelming sensation she wants to bask in. soak in like the rays of sun on a hot summer day. it doesn't make her lose control , it makes her want more.

his touch is electrifying. she cannot help but wonder if this is what man saw when they first created fire. a dangerous sort of spark , a crackling heat. you cannot get too close , yet without proximity you cannot use it to survive. theon was every bit her fire , burning rampant , decimating her while he was in her path ( yet , without him , she will freeze , she will probably die ). he pulls her close , and sansa is certain in this moment she would melt under his gaze , burn upon his touch , suffocate under the contradiction and confusion of this all.

❝ be careful, theon. ❞ sansa warns , eyes peering up at his own through the angle he has positioned her face. her tone is low , though there's a playfulness that makes the flirting apparent. ❝ keep talking like that , and it may sound like you actually want to be my date. ❞ the thought of that makes her heart leap , anticipation and excitement at that prospect enough to make her a giddy school girl. though her composure is kept , the facade of a distant flirt what he sees.

fingers come to his chest , delicately teasing the buttons of his shirt. blue eyes watch , narrow slightly. almost like a cat stalking its prey. oh , how she would devour him if she could. ❝ i won't lie , the end of that night sounds... particularly intriguing. ❞ hands open the top two buttons of his shirt , ghost the skin of his exposed chest. it's so outwardly bold , especially for a girl who never had confidence in this sort of thing. though , theon has a way of emboldening her , making her feel she could play the part of seductress. he makes her feel beautiful and worthy of his desire , like a precious thing he could never quite obtain. if she thinks too hard about it , she surely would fall , and dangerously fast at that.

sansa turns away once more , though sits on the edge of her bed now. she watches , patiently , waiting for what's next. ❝ but what ever , may i ask , would you tell robb? why would you of all people be taking his darling baby sister to the formal? ❞ she laughs at the thought , ❝ surely screwing her brains out is not the answer he was looking for. ❞ this was the first time they spoke of robb , of what he could probably never , ever , and she meant ever know. sansa is quite certain they'd be in agreement over this. @krakened

𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐓. peeking out through fabric — all soft and hinting at the color of sunrise and fueling every one of his desires. she is HELEN as far as theon is concerned. and all his forces are at the ready.

in the small confines of her dorm , he is eternally hers. privacy granting him some stubborn sort of permission to act on the innate desires of his being. and yet all of that which he feels for her cannot be compacted into such a description. the inclinations of youth alone do not fill his chest with bath water running over the ledge. do not spill the floor of him with something warm and heavy and hard to erase. yes — ETERNAL in all her rights.

theon sits up more stiffly. relaxation struggles to find him here. BOTHERED and in denial. he is nothing more than a pawn on her board and yet she remains unaware of her full influence over him. or perhaps too GOOD to make use of it. ( and gods , she is good. and not just prim and proper , but down to her core. autumn and winter and burning and freezing and theon exists in the cold hues of her eyes and sometimes they are - the both of them , just color and temperature and one thing melds into the next. ) he does not , anymore , know who he is apart from her.

YES — his existence beyond the walls of this room FADES. and he is subject to her first and his own desires second. eyes stuck on the small of her back. imagine it in some other position. guilt doesn't phase him. not now. he gets up off her bed , slow and decidedly. walks over to sansa. a hand runs down the length of her hair. he couldn't keep them off now , if he tried. he grabs her wrist , pulling her up. his fingers graze all over the fabric of her dress. less revealing , sure. but enough to have him wandering. eyes and fingers and LONGING.

he leans in , close enough for breath to be hot on her ear. ❝ it's too bad i'm not pretty , ❞ he starts. and once a wave pulls back from the shore - can it really stop? the answer is NO- it crashes all the same. ❝ i could be your date. you could show me off. and afterwards , i'd take you home. have you screaming my name. ❞ he pulls back. a hand grasps her chin. forces her to look him in the eyes. ❝ what a shame. ❞

[wyrmguardsecrets]

Worst race in WoW rp? Human males.

I now go out of my way to avoid any rp with human males (or worgen males who rp in human form), especially if they're played by white cis men. They are the most problematic group in the game bar none.

They consistently fuck up any rp they get involved in because their character is just an egotistical projection to compensate for their personal male inadequacies. Their roleplay is either some DEUS VULT holy warrior bullshit where they godmod their racism all over any non-human characters, or they try hard as fuck to be Tommy Shelby when really they're just Tommy Wiseau with a "u wot m8" accent. OR they're a "wise old sorcerer" who exerts their intellectualism onto any young woman standing alone in the Lamb. Oh, and let's not forget the assholes who want to be as close to the rank of king as lore-abidingly possible–all adult toddlers with a raging case of megalomania.

The ego cis men imbue their characters with has singlehandedly dismantled so many public rp hubs and guilds because they HAVE to be the big man on campus. I've seen it happen time and time again, where one or more will show up uninvited to a brawl or dispute of any kind across SW because they metagamed learning about it. They HAVE to be the strongest, smartest, funniest, most vicious, most aloof, most politically savvy, and most connected, which just translates to blowhard attitudes and unnecessary conflict as they try to assert their dominance over everyone else. Women? Holes to fuck. Men who love their wives? Spineless cucks. Non-humans? Inferior or a device to be used (i.e. having a draenei as a meat shield). Everyone is an NPC and just a means to an end for their rp. Oh, and their ERP? So much attention to detail when it comes to their muscles and dick veins that it ironically borders on homoerotica.

And if you sit in vc or chat with these guys, it's the biggest stroke fest. They oocly rip on whoever confronts them, make dumb jokes about other OCs, and fellate themselves for writing 10 bAdAsS paragraphs every emote. Nevermind the unapologetic sexism, racism, and trans/homophobia that runs rampant in their discords and guild chats. And if you call them out on their toxic behavior or piss them off, they will gang up on you and gaslight you into a coma until you no longer feel safe on your own character.

Now, because I know their egos are so fragile that I expect some ragey responses and attempts to insult me or say #notallhumanmales, but tbh they can all fuck right off. I've been here 12 years and every single person I've ever known on MG has a horror story involving a human male OC. They're sexual predators–Andrew Tate wannabes–and deserve to be ostracized and ignored.

.