..heheh - Tumblr Posts
Honestly it's not as bad as it sounds. It takes the eagles about 2 hours to get to my liver and another 2 to eat it. The whole ordeal is over by one and I've got the afternoon to myself.
Omg its a titty
just wondering but which fandom(s) are u in ? :3 /nf
my dude so many, I’m so glad u asked
*inhales*
TMNT <specially 2012> E X F O R
Artemis fowl 😭
Hazbin Hotel/Helluva boss but not so much anymore
Rick And Mortyyyy
S T A R G A T E!!!!!
Lethal Company
does the YTber Smii7y count??
I dabble in FNAF
Kipo (barely)
HTTYD!!!
Detroit: Become Human!!!
I do love the MCU
Annnnd Bluey ofc!!
OH AND DESTINY 2 AHHH
hbu??
I have an interesting AU idea for exfor, where Bishop and Skippy essentially switch bodies (canister and human) by elder intervention. If yall r interested I’ll write it out, here’s a super rushed written concept for it. Bear with me it’s really bad and weirdly written. I’ll fix it up later.
Body swap
The Elder’s arrogant laughter echoed around the bridge of Valkyrie as Bishop dove for Skippy’s canister. Electricity arced across the surface of the can, Bishop ignored the warnings and cry’s of his crew, focusing only on the pain Skippy must be feeling.
His fingertips brushed the can, electricity splashed up his arm as he grabbed the can. Searing heat scorched his palm, blinding white light filled his vision and all went dark.
Skippy’s mind raced to fight against the Elder. His matrix slowly being pulled apart. He was dying, being ripped into pieces and reassembled. He vaguely noticed Bishop’s outstretched hand. Skippy tried to scream. He tried to warn his friend to get away. He felt the flesh hit his canister.
He felt connected, as if his mind was melding into Bishop’s. He saw his friend’s concern for him, his courage his terror his anxiety. Skippy suddenly felt the crushing weight of responsibility that Bishop felt. Skippy found his thoughts wandering over to Adams. He suddenly felt a deep adoration for her. And a level of protectiveness and respect he had never felt about her before. White light filled Skippy’s sensors.
He disconnected. He couldn’t feel anything. His control his power his subminds all gone.
His hand hurt.
Hand? He didn’t have a hand. He had a canister. Not a hand. Heat swelled in him. He hurt. Everything hurt. It was loud. He felt dry air and the smell of burning plastic touch him.
The deck moved, or did he move?
Simms rushed over to her commander, his bloodied hand dropped Skippy and the canister rolled across the deck. The Elder still laughing, her voice filling not only the air but their minds, their very being. She caught Bishop, he had gone limp. She brushed her sweaty hair out of her face, tears of frustration, rage, terror and horror streamed down her cheeks.
“Colonel? Sir! What was that? Are you okay?”
His face contorted, as if he wasn’t sure how to move. His mouth opened and closed, gasping raggedly for breath. He blinked, staring at the ceiling with his eyes wide open. The lights were blinding, how was he not squinting? Did the electricity damage his brain?
“Uh- Simms? I can’t get ahold of Skippy-“ Billby spoke, snapping the crew out of their shock.
The Elder inhaled, then chuckled.
“See you soon.” It hissed before its presence was lifted.
Everyone let out a breath they had been holding, and chaos broke loose. Medics rushed in, treating burns and sprains, Colonel Smythe took over at Simm’s approval. She stayed with Bishop, whose eyes became frantic. He made a strangled sound, trying to speak. He lifted his arm and reached out to her like a child would. She took his good hand and tried helping him up.
“Sir? Bishop?” She frowned, studying him closely.
He blinked again, his expression contorted in pain.
“B-bish-no” he sounded his words out. Panicked. Shakily. “No- no no no”
Tears welled up in his eyes, he looked scared, like he couldn’t tell what was happening to them.
“Sir? Can you understand me?”
“Sim-simms- Simms-“ he stuttered, glancing around, his body trembling.
“Got him!” Billby cried out on the speakers. “Uh- well sort of. Skippy’s matrix looks..it doesn’t look like him. Unless he significantly changed it. It doesn’t feel like-“
The speakers cut out, then cut back in, the ship’s computer’s started to short out, random icons being pushed, the display cutting in and out.
“What-“ Billby expressed, shock in his tone as the crew froze in their place. “Thats not Skippy-“
The display cut in again, words began piling into it, quickly pouring through. At first it was just random words, jumbled together, some not even words.
Simms watched Bishop stare at himself in the glass. Mouth agape. He stumbled towards it, pressing his hands to the glass. He let out a strangled whimper.
The display flashed, trying to capture the attention of the crew. The words grew in size. Simms gasped as she read it, then stared at who she thought was her commander. She glanced at the display again, which read:
“It’s Bishop. Where the fuck am I.”
been meaning to draw this for a bit
the boy is bad news | h.hj smau
ch 31 - lol no
summary: An aspiring journalist, you are the news editor for The Uni Chronicles; the campus newspaper, popular for delivering breaking news at the drop of a hat and providing detailed articles about the various happenings around your university. You think you’ve covered every story there was to cover before you’re tasked with producing an in-depth editorial on a student whose name is on everyone’s lips—Hwang Hyunjin.
a/n: ok I’m a lil buzzed rn. but inspo calls at any time. and I must answer. major plot events happenin!!! the next ch will be written. 🤭 I hope y’all are looking forward to another angsty confrontation 🤭🤭
masterlist
Taglist: @mal-lunar-28 @ladylexis @vampcharxter @sisterofsomeone @whlfchnari @imasimplol @writersun @i2lain @astraystayyh @jiimout @hwajin @hyynee @rachabreathing @zoe8stay @abbiestearsricochet @ven-fic-recs @stay-down-kid @flowerbin131 @hyunverse @whatthefsposts @carousellights @dorisnumber1fan @hyunsungbased @manj1ro @straydhampir @jungkookies1002 @rindomo @iadorethemskz @silent-jill @feelikecinderella @vixensss @leeyanyanyaaan @broken-glowsticks @bmnyy @fawnpeaks @hyuneyeon @septicrebel @channiesstars @mimi-sierra04 @dreamstarsandskz @cheshireshiya @staurdvst @swissgoswish @ggundeuri @farfromsugafanfic @whats-my-question @bintificreads @iwaplant @yla-aira @midsoulz
taglist CLOSED
5k words in…
phew. finally turned in a stupid paper i’ve been stressing about and i’ll be trying to finish summer love before the weekend
also happy easter to those who celebrate :]
OH! Fun thing I’ve been thinking about!
I am tempted to make silly little playlists based on what music I think different characters I like would listen to.
Obviously I definitely wanna do some dragon ball characters, like Goku, Vegeta, etc.
So gimme some ideas of songs!! 👀✨
it is canon that dean winchester has worn silk pink panties and liked it
Jewel, I know your requests are closed but I desperately need to hear your thoughts on who in BTS would do this: https://www.tumblr.com/writing-prompt-s/739417828719034368/you-a-powerful-demoness-have-just-been-summoned
and why is it Namjoon (the potential for crack with this 148 IQ man who is also way more innocent than we think acc to one park jimin just takes me out)
i'm so sorry it took me so long to finish and post this but thank you so much for sending it bc i have been cackling about this scenario ever since.
the prompt: you, a powerful demoness, have just been summoned to earth. this man, this human, wants you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a few days so his parents will get off his back about it.
the gang summons a demon
pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: supernatural au; crack warnings: reader is a demon and engages in demon behavior, swearing, namjoon makes mention of not being straight, heteronormative parental expectations, jk learns about arcane things on tumblr (which is not an original idea; i read a fic ages ago where taekook are tumblr witches but i cannot find it, so credit to that author or whoever came up with it first), unedited so any mistakes are mine. rating: e for everyone wordcount: 2k
It’s been years since you’ve been to Earth—even longer since you’ve been to South Korea.
“I haven’t been here since 1910,” you say, staring at the gobsmacked man across from you. He’s tall, with tanned skin and a bleached buzz cut; a smattering of tattoos dotting his toned arms—whites and rich hues of blue, imitations of some kind of ceramic art, you think; a golden hoop through his nose; cheeks with dimples so deep you’re sure they’ll crater. “People here definitely didn’t look like you back then, so I’m going to assume we’re pretty far into the future.”
“It’s 2024,” he answers, seemingly still a little dazed. He’s staring at you with wide eyes, jaw dropped. Normally it’s nice to be looked at like that, with all the reverence and awe you deserve, but Earth is not your favorite place to be. Doesn’t even crack the top fifty, if you’re being honest. “Did you say 1910? As in the beginning of the—”
You sigh. “Uh-huh. Hey, if you wouldn’t mind hurrying this up, I’ve got things to do.” The man continues staring. Could be a trick of the light, but you think he’s turning paler by the second.
Minutes tick by. Nothing but silence.
“Are you even listening to me?” you snarl, quickly losing patience you were never given. “I said I’ve got shit to do. My schedule’s booked solid for the next eight centuries, so I really don’t have time to be dilly-dallying in mundane human affairs. Your problems are always so boring.”
More silence.
Which is irksome, sure, but what’s worse is this stupid fucking circle you’re trapped in. Drawn crudely on the floor of (seemingly) this human man’s actual apartment, which would’ve told you all you’d needed to know, if you’d taken ten seconds to take in your surroundings upon first being summoned. This place has got books stacked floor to ceiling in every available inch of space, but you’re certain this person is a fucking idiot.
“Hello?”
The man shakes his head. “Oh, sorry, I just—I’m Namjoon? Kim Namjoon.”
“I don’t care.”
“Right, right.” He sucks in a deep breath. “Well, you’re probably wondering why I summoned you here today”—you roll your eyes—“and, uh.” Namjoon scratches at the back of his neck, anxiety oozing from every pore on his body. Definitely paler. “I am too, to be honest.”
“You what—”
“I didn’t mean to!” Namjoon hurriedly adds, all of that anxiety shifting quickly into pure panic. “It’s just—it was a joke! Mostly! Jeongguk said it as a joke, because everything he says is a joke, and I should’ve known that, but—I don’t know! I’ve tried everything else, and the longer its gone on the more desperate I’ve become, and suddenly what Jeongguk said as a joke didn’t sound so much like a joke anymore! I’m sorry! I didn’t think it’d actually work!”
It takes your brain a minute to translate and decipher the useless slush that just came out of his mouth, but when it does… oh, when it does, you feel absolutely murderous. “You summoned me as a joke?”
Namjoon must see it, too. There’s no way you’re looking cool, calm, and collected right now, because you’ve seen the faces of others that have witnessed your wrath, and they were almost always on the brink of (if not outright) shitting their pants. This stupid, clueless human in front of you doesn’t appear to be faring much better.
So you continue, just to watch him squirm. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“Um,” comes his brilliant response. “Yes?”
“And who am I?”
He holds up his pointer finger and digs through the back pocket of his jeans. Pulls out a crumbled scrap of paper, nearly soiled from ass sweat and time, and his eyes squint as he tries to read it. “I—well, it’s probably not an accurate translation, you know, since—”
“What does that piece of parchment say, Kim Namjoon?”
“Nothing,” he lies. “I can’t read it anyway, so… a-haaa…”
Patience officially worn thin, you snap your fingers, delighting in the startled shriek that escapes him as the paper goes up in a plume of smoke. “I am going to give you one chance to be honest with me,” you explain slowly, leveling him with a look. “Who do you think I am, and why am I here?”
Namjoon pales further. Looks like he’s trying to melt right through the floor into a puddle of useless slush, and you’d be more than willing to speed up the process if it weren’t for this god forsaken demon trap.
“Can I—can I sit down for this?”
Kim Namjoon, you learn, has a friend named Jeon Jeongguk.
Jeon Jeongguk, you also come to learn, has learned magic from a website called Tumblr.
“There, uh. There are definitely blogs for that sort of thing,” Namjoon explains, tattooed fingers scratching at the back of his neck. He takes a very quick glance at you. “Clearly not very accurate ones.”
You hum. “That’s the only smart thing I’ve heard you say since I showed up in this shithole.”
Namjoon gawks. “Hey, my apartment isn’t a shithole! It’s the best I could afford, alright? There was just an article in The Business Times about how archaic of a system jeonse is—”
“Uh-huh. And this… website?”
Namjoon goes red. Coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, yeah. I’m gonna be honest with you—”
“I already said that—”
“—my parents are coming to visit from Ilsan in a few days and I need a girlfriend.”
You blink. Once, twice, three times. Long enough to replace the rug that had been pulled from under you, because you’re pretty sure you heard this human man allude to having summoned you so you can pretend to be his girlfriend.
All things considered, you’re impressed by how calm you are. This is not a trait most demons have, you especially, and it makes you nostalgic for the days you used to rip men apart limb by limb for less.
“Are you insane?” you ask simply.
“In my defense,” he explains around a wince, “Jeongguk said it was a love spell.”
“A love spell.” Namjoon nods. “And you wound up summoning a demon.”
“It… appears I may have done that, yes.”
“And you want a demon to meet your parents?”
“I mean… when in Rome, right?”
“I’ve committed at least four-hundred and sixty-seven separate atrocities there, so no, probably not when in Rome.”
Namjoon’s jaw drops. He tucks his knees closer to his chest. “Christ, that’s a lot. How did you have the time?”
“I’m immortal,” you deadpan.
“Right, right. Anyway, to answer your question: yes.”
Your eyes narrow. “How bad are your parents that you’d want me to meet them?”
“They’re fine, mostly. I just… am not what they expected in a son? Like, I have the hair and the tattoos and I dropped out of my engineering program in university to pursue art and poetry, so the least I could do is find a wife and settle down and give them grandchildren, but I don’t even know if I want to ever settle down. I’m also not… heterosexual? Entirely? Do you see that a lot—”
You sigh. “Misconception. Not to launch you into some kind of existential crisis, but the gods really don’t give a shit who you humans sleep with.”
“Gods? As in plural?” You snap your fingers. Namjoon’s fingers immediately go to his temples. “Damn, I have a really bad migraine all of a sudden.”
“Yeah, that was me.”
“What’d you do?”
“Made you forget something.”
“Oh. What’d I forget?” It takes a second. “Oh, right, yeah. Um. What was the last thing I said?”
“Your parents wanted you to be an engineer and have a ton of kids but you like art and also not-women, sometimes.”
He flushes again. “I—yes.”
You sigh, arms crossed over your chest. All you want to do is sit down, or open a window. This apartment smells far too strongly of patchouli. “Look, I haven’t been to this place in a long time, but surely you aren’t undesirable by your society’s standards.”
“Are you saying I’m attractive?”
You scowl. “No. I’m saying there had to have been easier ways of doing this, and also can you open a window?”
“It’s February.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“It’s really cold outside.”
“I’m literally from Hell. Go put on a sweater, then.”
With a roll of his eyes, Namjoon stands and moves to the window. Cracks it open a millimeter, just enough for the cold to seep in, before he’s stalking off toward—you’re assuming—his bedroom. You think he’s shoving a garment over his head when he calls out, “You know, you’re really fucking bossy for someone stuck in a trap.”
You vow to kill him as soon as you’re free.
It isn’t often you’re held hostage.
Usually you can spot a trick coming a thousand miles away, but since Namjoon hadn’t meant to summon you at all, you’d been caught unawares. Doomed to be stuck in a demon trap, just like he’d said, which meant you didn’t have a ton of bargaining power.
At least that’s what you’re telling yourself, because as you sit across from Namjoon’s parents at some fancy restaurant, you aren’t convinced he isn’t a crossroads demon himself.
“So,” his mother begins, turning her attention to you, “what do you do for work?”
Namjoon elbows you beneath the table, giving you a silent warning to stick to the script. You’re only here under threat of force—because Jeongguk had stopped by Namjoon’s apartment, saw you in the summoning circle, and nearly fainted before going back to Tumblr to find a binding spell.
Except that one wasn’t great, either, because it only bound you and Namjoon together for three days instead of forever. And, as penance for all the chaos you’ve sown across the universe, Namjoon’s parents’ visit fell within that time frame, so here you are.
Out to dinner. With humans.
You’re pretending to be someone’s girlfriend.
You’re in for the most embarrassing ribbing of your existence once you’re home.
“I work with idols,” you respond, as convincingly as possible, because Namjoon had thought it’d be really funny. Get it? he’d said. Like false idols? You hadn’t laughed. “It’s very secretive, of course, but—”
You don’t finish your thought, because Namjoon’s mother looks delighted: face lit up with mirth, smile blinding, eyes half-lidded under the weight of her happiness. “Oh, how exciting! Has he told you he used to do performances to old H.O.T songs? Namjoonie, what was that one song you liked—”
“Eomma, please—”
“Wasn’t it ‘Candy’?” Namjoon’s dad offers from behind his menu. It’s the first thing he’s said all evening.
Namjoon whimpers, foregoing all social decorum and lectures on posture to sink further in his chair.
You do not, under any circumstances, feel a hint of fondness.
(Which dissipates not even twenty-four hours later.
“The blog was deleted,” Jeongguk says, eyes wide as saucers. “I—the blog is gone, I don’t know how to—”
“What do you mean the blog is gone?” The poor kid is overcome with panic and fear, tries to stutter out a response that makes no sense to you at all through his sobs. “Jeon Jeongguk, what do you mean the blog is gone?”
“I—it’s—I had it bookmarked, I swear! Once the binding spell wore off I was gonna send it to Namjoon hyung so he could send you back, but the blog is gone so the post is gone, too. I don’t—what do I even search for—oh my god, please don’t kill me, I think I’m having a panic attack, I’m gonna—”
And then this human man vomits all over your feet. Namjoon sighs as he goes to fetch a bucket, and you think it’ll be a miracle if any of these people—yourself included—live to see the end of the week.)
EHEHEHEHJKDSGLKJGDLSG
UM UM UM would you doodle turtle me again...≧ ﹏ ≦
🌸 TSUKISHIMA × reader with anxiety.
synopsis : what tsukishima does if you struggle with anxiety?
cw : mentions of anxiety/panic attacks
a/n : haven't written anything in a wee bit, I'm back! if you want a part 2, 3, 4, with other characters, just ask~
immediately grabs his laptop to research when you tell him
checks the information in front of him with you to see if there's any correlation
asks you to walkthrough how an anxiety attack looks like for you, referring to his research as you speak
"it says here you can start hyperventilating, do you do that?"
vv. methodical about it
wants to know the external signs of an oncoming anxiety attack so he can get rid of your trigger if possible
if he can't get rid of the trigger, he guides you through one of the calming methods from his research
"try to follow my breathing, y/n. there you go... I'm here for you, sweetheart"
one of his hands will be rubbing your back while the other will run through your hair
he hums a sweet tune in your ears, whispering praise every now and then until your heart rate and breathing have turned to normal
however, he'd ask you before what triggers you have and how you prefer to be supported during an attack
best believe he'll have whatever calms you down on hand
it doesn't matter how impossible it sounds
does listening to music help you? he bought an extra pair of earbuds that are always charged for you
does having something sweet help you? oops now he has a bag of candies wherever he goes
tsukishima glares at anyone who dares to look at you funny during an attack
he makes sure your back is facing everyone else if there are people around
his friends all know to give you space because of this
all in all, tsukishima 10/10
© THIS IS A PIECE OF ORIGINAL WORK BY @adxnosine. DO NOT REPOST OR ALTER, WHETHER ON TUMBLR OR ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA WEBSITES. PLEASE CONSIDER REBLOGGING TO HELP THE AUTHOR INSTEAD.
For Fic Purposes...
Thinking about them 😭