#I’m trying to distract myself with other stuff but it’s not really working

[barclaysangel]

I think I just lost my friend on here

I was 3 hours too late when I saw his goodbye message and I keep messaging him without getting a response back

I was talking with him today, everything was great, we were talking shit about Don Mancini’s writing together and now he’s just…gone? Is he gone?

I’m scared and I feel helpless and I’m just in bed crying instead of going to sleep cause I don’t know what to do

So I’m just posting here…I don’t know what I should do or what to feel, I’m just scared and I want him to come back and be okay

[carlos-tk]

trying to feel normal again 🧍‍♀️

[milkoomi]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ a guide to getting better sleep ᝰ.ᐟ

getting the right amount of sleep every night is key to getting your physical health in check and keeping your own mental and emotional state balanced! i used to struggle with severe insomnia a few years ago, so i’m going to share some tips that helped me get a good night’s rest!

let’s begin !!

ᝰ.ᐟ create a solid nightly routine

for me, my nightly routine starts between 5-6pm! so you can begin to create your nightly routine by finding that start time for yourself!

your nightly routine can include a multitude of things! whether it’s having dinner, showering, doing your nightly skincare, doing some end-of-the-day journaling; your nightly routine can be anything that helps you unwind from the day.

my nightly routine:

5-6pm: get home from work, change out of work uniform, & have dinner — within this time i’ll also spend time with my family/loved ones! i try to stay off of my phone, but there are nights where i’m having dinner and i’ll be scrolling through social media or watching a youtube video!

6-7pm: shower, dental hygiene, nighttime skincare — this is my time to pamper myself, to cleanse myself from the stresses from my day (& ofc literally cleanse myself). i’ll have a podcast playing in the background or i’ll put on a playlist of songs that make me feel good!

7-9pm: prime time “me-time” — at this point in my night, after i’ve showered and stuff, i use this time to either continue listening to podcasts or i’ll have another one of my fav youtubers playing in the background! i also incorporate time to journal and follow up with doing something that makes me happy whether that be playing a video game, entertaining myself with youtube, or coming on here & writing a new blog post!

9-10pm: bed time — i always make sure i’m physically in bed between these times just so i can allow my body to begin to fully relax. i get really cozy in bed, getting all tucked in under my covers, and i’ll make sure my lights are either dimmed or off! my goal every night is to be asleep by 10-10:30pm!

of course, your routine will look different than mine, but feel free to take some inspiration from this! figure out what works best for you and your schedule! once you have that routine set in stone, it’ll be easier to train your mind and body to get to bed at a better time and get yourself used to sleeping at a more reasonable time!

ᝰ.ᐟ no phone usage an hour before bed time

when you’re already in bed, getting ready to fall asleep, try to stay off your phone! the more time you spend mindlessly scrolling through your phone, the more that time starts to slip away from you and soon enough you’ll be up past midnight. staying away from your phone before going to sleep will allow your mind and body to start signaling that feeling of “it’s time to go to sleep”.

being on your phone right before you fall asleep just keeps your mind going and will cause you stay awake for much longer than you need to be! let your mind rest!

luckily, with iphones, you can create different focus modes other than just having your ‘do not disturb’ on! i created a focus mode titled ‘bed time’ that is scheduled to start at 9pm & end at 7am (which is usually when i wake up). i have the mode made so that my homescreen pages don’t include the page where all my social media is at so that i’m not tempted to scroll through any of my socials! i also made sure that my ‘bed time’ mode does not allow any notifications from anyone or anything to prevent myself from getting distracted at night when i’m trying to go to sleep!

ᝰ.ᐟ create the perfect sleeping environment

going to sleep can be hard if it’s too silent/noisy, too dark/bright, too cold/hot; so it’s important to make your sleeping environment the most ideal to you! turn on a fan for white noise or if you need it to be a bit cooler in your room, set a timer on your tv and have it lowered to the lowest volume, turn off all the lights— just do whatever you feel is best for making sure you sleep comfortably throughout the night!

for me, i have my tv on & i’ll set the timer on it because i still need some light source (because honestly i’m afraid of the dark lol) and i need some sound while i sleep! i make sure my tv’s brightness is dimmed because too much light is too distracting for me. i also prefer my room to be colder at night so i can cozy up more into my blankets! doing all of that to create the perfect sleeping environment has helped me get much better sleep at night!

𝜗𝜚 final notes 𝜗𝜚

creating a good sleep schedule and maintaining it can be a battle, but getting good sleep will help you in so many ways! getting enough sleep is one of the best forms of self care, and if practicing better self care is one of your goals for this new year, then please start by working on your sleep schedule and getting better sleep!

live and love, babes.

sincerely, juno ⭑.ᐟ

[tender-rosiey]

keep up — ceo!gojo satoru x f!reader

it’s been a long week.

meetings piled on top of meetings, deadlines chasing each other like the ticking of a clock, and constant discussions about investments and strategy—things that should have come second to the one thing you can’t seem to escape.

him. gojo satoru.

you’ve known him for years, but it’s only recently that you’ve started noticing the way his eyes linger just a bit longer than necessary.

or how his words have an edge, a playful undertone that seems to suggest he’s after something more than a simple business conversation.

you’ve barely sat down in one of the plush chairs before gojo’s signature smirk is already spreading across his face.

today, you find yourself in his office again, the glass walls of the conference room revealing the city skyline, the lights twinkling below as the sun sinks below the horizon.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he says smoothly, his voice carrying the usual arrogance, but there’s something more behind it today. the way his eyes flash, the subtle way he adjusts his tie—it’s all intentional.

he’s up to something, and you know it.

“what’s the deal, gojo?” you ask, folding your arms across your chest, trying to maintain the usual level of professional distance between the two of you.

but, as always, it’s hard to ignore the way he effortlessly commands the room with his presence.

“I just wanted to talk,” he says, leaning back in his leather chair with a playful grin.

“I feel like we’ve been working together a lot lately, but we haven’t really talked talked. you know?” he tilts his head slightly, clearly enjoying the way he’s messing with you.

“talked about what?” you raise an eyebrow. the idea of gojo satoru, the ceo of a billion-dollar company, taking time out of his day just to talk to you about something other than business sounds...unlikely.

“you know, personal stuff,” he says, his gaze never leaving yours. “like, what you’re doing when you’re not being all business-y and focused on your empire.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. you knew this was coming. it always does.

“I’m doing exactly what you’re doing. running a business. growing something bigger than myself,” you reply, your voice steady, though your mind is racing, trying to think of a way to deflect the conversation before it goes any further.

you can’t let him distract you—especially not now, when everything you’ve worked for is on the verge of becoming something huge.

gojo chuckles, the sound low and smooth.

“you know, you’re even more attractive when you’re trying to act all tough. but I’m serious. what else do you do when you’re not closing deals or impressing the world?”

you roll your eyes, feeling the tension in your shoulders. “nothing interesting. I spend money quickly. that’s all you need to know.”

you say it lightly, knowing that would make him drop it. he’s never been the type to pursue something that doesn’t pique his interest, and surely, a comment like that will be enough to make him back off.

but gojo simply leans forward, his eyes narrowing in a way that sends a jolt through you. “you spend money quickly, huh?”

you nod, arms still crossed as you stare at him, half-expecting him to make a comment about it.

“can you spend it as quickly as I make it?” his voice is smooth, a subtle edge of amusement hidden beneath his words.

you blink, caught off guard by the ease with which he says it. the confidence in his words, the way he leans back in his chair like it’s just another ordinary day—it all hits you like a wave.

he’s not just offering something small. he’s making a statement. and he knows it’ll rattle you.

“I...” you falter, but your voice catches in your throat. you were expecting him to deflect, to make it a joke.

instead, he’s somehow turned the conversation into something personal—something that makes you question your own boundaries.

gojo smiles, not a hint of arrogance or cockiness this time. just a knowing look, like he’s figured you out in a way you didn’t expect.

“what’s the matter?” he teases, sensing your hesitation. “don’t think you can keep up?”

you shake your head, trying to regain some composure. “I’m not interested in your money, gojo,” you say firmly, trying to return to your usual calm.

you’ve never been someone who’s drawn in by flashy displays of wealth. you value ambition and drive more than anything else, something you both—admittedly—share.

but gojo doesn’t let up. he’s not the type to let things go when he’s gotten a taste of victory.

“I don’t think you’re interested in my money. I think you’re interested in me.” his grin is almost teasing, his confidence bordering on smug, but it’s not unwarranted.

he’s pushing you, just a little, to see how far you’ll let him go.

you stand up abruptly, pacing the length of the room, trying to compose yourself. you hate that he can do this—get under your skin with just a few words.

you’ve spent your entire career building a reputation based on control, but gojo has a way of making you feel like you’re the one who’s losing it.

“I’m not interested in playing games, gojo,” you say, trying to sound firm. “if you’re expecting me to be swept off my feet by...whatever this is, it’s not going to happen.”

he stands up as well, his movements smooth. “and why not?” he asks, his voice low, almost coaxing. “because you’re too busy? because you’ve got too much on your plate?”

you hesitate.

he’s right. you are busy. but it’s not just that. it’s the idea of getting tangled in something that might distract you from your goals. relationships, especially with someone like him, always seem to be more trouble than they’re worth.

but gojo doesn’t seem to take your hesitation as a refusal. instead, he steps closer, his hand resting casually on your shoulder as he peers down at you, his eyes locking with yours.

“you know, I’m not asking for anything from you, other than your time. I just want to know...if you’d ever consider being distracted for a change.”

a trace of sincerity threads through the usual playfulness. for the briefest moment, you wonder if he’s being genuine, if maybe—just maybe—there’s something more behind his words.

you look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of his presence settling into the space between you.

“I’m not saying I’m ready to drop everything for you,” you say, your voice quieter now. “but...”

gojo smirks again, but this time, it’s softer, more knowing. “but?”

“but,” you continue, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I can’t pretend like I’m not at least curious about where this might go.”

his smirk turns into a smile, one that’s warm and confident. he leans in, brushing his lips against your cheek, just barely.

“I knew you’d come around,” he hums. his fingers brush against your jaw, lifting your face to meet his eyes once more, “we’ll see if you can keep up, miss l/n.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will cry

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[0omillo0]

I’m so glad you’ve finished your school! I know school can be rough especially end of the year. Speaking of free time. 🥺👉👈 How about (surprise) angst/hurt with Han this time (at this point I’m trying to go through all the members at least once) Y/N is having just like, the worst day. They come home to Han for comfort but he is also having just like, the worst day. So they argue and Han walls out, but later there’s a fire at the apartment complex and when he comes back there’s like a whole scene and he freaks out. Y/N is already in the back of an ambulance and they’re fine but Han takes five ever to find them and is freaking out the entire time.

Calling you clingy

Han Jisung x Reader 한지성

a/n: Hi! I’m sorry if this took so long but I’m kinda struggling with my emotions lately and I don’t really like the way I write… hope you’ll like it tho

The day felt doomed from the moment you opened your eyes.

Your alarm hadn’t gone off, leaving you scrambling to get ready. You spilled coffee on your only clean shirt, missed your bus, and when you finally arrived at work, it was like the universe conspired against you. A project you’d poured your heart into was torn apart in a meeting, and the snide comments from a coworker still rang in your ears. By the time you walked through your apartment door that evening, you felt like a frayed wire—one spark away from snapping.

Han sat on the couch, earbuds in, a notebook balanced on his lap. His pen moved furiously across the page, his frustration evident in every stroke. Seeing him there, a small part of your tension eased. He’ll make this better, you thought. He always does…

“Hey,” you said softly, closing the door behind you.

He didn’t look up. “Hey.”

You hesitated, unsure if he’d even heard you. “Han… I’m sorry to bother you but I had the worst day. I don’t even know where to start. I just… I really need you right now. Please…”

You had always been nice to him, always making sure to give him his space. And he knew.

But this time, he sighed, setting his notebook aside but still not meeting your eyes. “Y/N, I can’t do this right now. I’m kind of drowning here myself.”

His words hit you like a cold wave. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, rubbing his temples, “I’ve been dealing with my own stuff all day. I’m exhausted too.”

You stared at him, your throat tightening. “I’m not asking you to solve anything, Han. I just wanted… I needed you to be here with me... I’m sorry-”

Finally, he looked at you, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Stop saying you’re sorry! It’s like… you can’t handle anything without me. You’re always leaning on me, and it’s—” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “It’s clingy, Y/N.”

The word sliced through you like a knife. “Clingy?” you echoed, your voice cracking.

Han stood, pacing in the small space. “Yes, clingy. Every time something goes wrong, I’m the first person you run to, and I can’t—”

“And what?” you interrupted, anger bubbling up. “You can’t handle that? I thought that’s what relationships were for—being there for each other!”

His voice rose to match yours. “It is! But I’m not your emotional punching bag! I have limits too!”

Your chest tightened, tears prickling at your eyes. “Fine. If I’m so clingy, maybe I should stop coming to you altogether.”

“Maybe you should.” His voice was cold.

He grabbed his keys from the counter and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The silence that followed felt deafening. You stood frozen, tears spilling over as his words echoed in your head.

You’ve never seen him like this. It hurt so bad it felt like you were drowning in your own tears.

You decided to listen to some music to distract yourself, until..

*Sniff sniff*

The smell of smoke was faint at first, so faint you ignored it. You thought it was coming from outside—someone burning leaves or a neighbor cooking. But then the fire alarm shrieked through the building, and the panic set in.

When you opened the door, smoke poured in, thick and choking. Flames flickered at the end of the hallway. Grabbing your phone and bag, you stumbled into the chaos, your heart pounding as the smoke burned your lungs.

By the time you made it outside, the cool night air felt like relief, but your head swam, and you couldn’t stop coughing. Paramedics found you, guiding you to an ambulance. You barely registered their words as they placed an oxygen mask over your face, the world spinning around you.

While you were fighting for your own life, Han wandered the city, replaying your argument in his head. At first, he felt justified—you’d been overwhelming lately, hadn’t you? But as the minutes stretched into hours, guilt started creeping in. You weren’t clingy; you trusted him enough to lean on him when things got tough. And he’d thrown that trust back in your face.

He turned toward the apartment, ready to apologize, when he saw smoke curling into the sky. His heart stopped.

“No. No, no, no,” he whispered, breaking into a sprint.

The fire was massive, consuming the upper floors of the building—your floor. His lungs burned as he ran, panic rising with every step. By the time he reached the scene, fire trucks and ambulances surrounded the complex.

“Y/N!” he shouted, shoving through the crowd of evacuees. “Have you seen Y/N?”

No one answered. He called your name again, louder this time, his voice cracking. His legs felt like they might give out, his thoughts racing to every worst-case scenario.

Finally, he spotted you in the back of an ambulance. Relief hit him so hard that he nearly collapsed.

“Y/N!” he cried, rushing to your side.

You looked up, your face pale but alive, the oxygen mask resting on your lap. “You came back,” you said hoarsely.

Han dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands shaking as he reached for yours. “I—I thought—I thought I lost you,” he stammered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. I never should have left. I was selfish, and I was wrong. I’m so, so sorry.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Finally, you pulled the mask down, your voice trembling. “You called me clingy, Han. You left me when I needed you most. Do you know how much that hurt?”

His face crumpled. “I know. I was an idiot. I didn’t mean it—I was overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. But I’ll never do that again. I swear. You mean everything to me, Y/N. Everything.”

Your lip trembled, tears welling up in your eyes. “You made me feel like I didn’t matter to you. Like I was just… too much.”

Han cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “You’re not too much. You’ll never be too much. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, you hesitated, the pain still fresh in your chest. But the sincerity in his eyes—the fear, the guilt, the love—broke down your walls. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch.

“Okay,” you whispered. “But it’s going to take time.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hands steadying as he held you close. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

That night, you stayed together in your apartement, after making sure you were all right at the hospital, the weight of the day still heavy but no longer unbearable. Han didn’t let go of you for a second, whispering soft reassurances until your eyes closed.

You weren’t sure how long it would take to heal, but as you drifted off, you knew one thing: Han was willing to try.

@intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @omgsecretsecret @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon

[nondelphic]

nondelphic status update: december 8th 2024

hey everyone (,,>﹏<,,). it’s been over a week since i last posted, and i wanted to explain why i’ve been gone. i’ve been dealing with some really tough mental health stuff, and honestly, it’s been a struggle just to get through the days.

i know most of you don’t follow this blog for this kind of post, and i promise i’m not trying to bring anyone down. you’re probably here because you, like me, enjoy a little self-deprecating humor as a coping mechanism (we love to see it lol (╥﹏╥)ゞ). but i didn’t want to come back without acknowledging why i’ve been so quiet.

the truth is, i’m really not doing well irl. it’s easy to seem like you have it all together online, but i don’t. i feel like it’s important to say that because we all need to care for ourselves, even when (or especially when) we feel like we’re falling apart. if you’re reading this and struggling too, just know you’re not alone. we’re all just little gremlins doing our best out here (｡•́︿•̀｡).

that being said, this blog is something i genuinely love working on, and stepping away made me realize how much joy it brings me. it’s honestly one of the few things that feels right to me right now. and i’m not just doing it for you guys, it’s also for me. it’s a nice distraction and gives me something to focus on other than, y’know, rotting in bed all day. (very fun, very slay •́︵•̀)

i think in the long run, making myself get up and do something i actually enjoy, like working on this blog, will probably serve me better than wallowing. and it’s comforting to know that there are people here who enjoy what i post, even when i’m not feeling my best.

thank you for being patient with me while i figure things out (´｡• ᵕ •｡`). i don’t have it all together, but i’m trying. and i’ll be back to posting silly writer nonsense sooner than you think ♡.

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

NSFW 18+

this is kind of a part two to my joe burrow x uc student!reader fic. you can read it here:

joe and you have been secretly hanging out for a good few months now, and no one has caught on. after that crazy night, you did call him, and he was very adamant about seeing you all of the time.

“joe i can’t come to your house i have homework to do. philosophy is kicking my butt right now,” you sighed.

“baby you can just do it here, i’ll pick you up myself,” he begged.

you laughed. “there’s no way you are bringing that expensive ass car around this run down neighborhood. also you know you’re gonna try to distract me from doing homework the whole time i’m there,” you replied.

“okay you win. but i wanna see you tonight for sure,” he said trying to compromise.

“i was gonna pick up a shift at work later. im trying to save up to buy some new headphones”.

“fuck work. i’ll literally buy you anything you want,” he said aggravated.

“ugh joe you know how i feel about th-“

he cut you off. “i’m picking you up now, and don’t worry i’ll bring one of my more inconspicuous cars. i’ll see you in a bit!”.

he hung up. you flopped in your pillow and groaned. your life has totally changed with him in it. you’re both grateful, but slightly peeved about his generosity towards you. i mean you’re not a person who is used to being spoiled by others. he’s always buying you nice things way out of the price range for a college student.

how do you explain to your friends you have multiple telfar tote bags all of a sudden? lululemon sets? etcetera.

you’re also basically always at his house. his cook makes meals for you, his driver takes you to class, things you would have never imagined for yourself.

let’s not get started on the college life of it all. he doesn’t like you going to frats because he hates all college guys (you can’t say you blame him), every time you mention going to a uc football game he’ll buy you guys box seats to go, and your friends are practically begging you to show your “sneaky link”. it’s very exhausting sometimes.

you definitely are in love with him though.

he’s so sweet and protective of you. he makes sures you’re always eating and not stressing about school. he’s even introduced you to his family and teammates after his games which makes you think maybe you could call him your boyf-

there’s a knock on the door.

you go answer it. it’s joe. all in his 6’4 glory.

“hey,” he smiles. bending down to kiss you.

“hi,” you blush.

“are you ready to go?” he asks.

“yeah let me just pack my book bag and some clothes”.

“you have clothes at the house,” he reminds you.

“oh well i get nervous wearing those. they’re just so nice i don’t want to stand out too much,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well you gotta get used to standing out if you’re with me,” he replied.

“well no one really knows about us,” you say walking to your room. he shuts the front door and follows you.

“well. i want more people to know because…,” he trails off.

“because?” you echo him.

“because i want you to officially be my girlfriend”.

you started at him silently.

“i was going to take you to dinner and properly ask but i couldn’t wait,” he said rubbing the back of his head.

in response you stand on the tips of your toes, wrap you arms around his neck, and pull him into a deep and passionate kiss. he reciprocates it, putting his hands on your sides.

when you guys finished, you responded.

“yes. i’ll be your girlfriend,” you say smiling widely.

he picks you up and spins you around, smiling too.

"alright get your stuff together and change so i can go feed you,” he says.

fast forward a little later in the night, you guys are at a really nice restaurant. you just finished your food and had a couple of drinks, and decided to sit on the same side of the booth as joe. he has his hand on your thigh feeling the material of your dress. you’re kissing his jaw and face.

“let’s go to the car baby,” he says. both amused by your affection and a little hard. he gets the check and leads you to the parking garage.

he pushes you up against his car and starts making out with you. his hands gripping your hips as he rubs his bulge against you.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he breathes.

before you guys can go any farther he opens the car door for you. you get in and he gets in on his side. he speeds home, breaking a few traffic laws on the way.

you guys make it to the bedroom. he takes off your dress and undergarments. you take off his dress shirt and slide off his underwear and pants.

he’s standing and you get down on your knees in front of him.

you start jerking him off while sucking his tip. he throws his head back in pleasure.

“fuck you suck daddy’s dick so well baby,” he moans. he puts his hand on the back of your head and you start to go deeper, feeling him in the back of your throat.

he pulls you off of him after a while, looking at your watery eyes and saliva around your mouth. he makes you stand up. his hands go down to mess with your aching pussy.

“you’re sopping wet and i haven’t even done anything yet,” he says. you whine, embarrassed.

he continues. “daddy’s gonna fuck you so good baby”.

he backs you into the wall and picks you up by your thighs. you can feel his breath on your face as he lines his tip with your pussy. he pulls your body down on him in one swift motion. he instantly bottoms out in you. you moan loudly.

he starts picking up the pace. basically pulling your body down onto his girth. he’s so big.

then, with your legs around him, he carries your body and puts your back onto the bed, barely having a second before he starts thrusting into you again.

he’s hitting your g-spot so aggressively you start getting ready to unfold. the bed is shaking.

“i-i’m gonna cum. i’m gonna cum joey” you moan.

he starts to go faster, chasing his own high. you come undone, and he starts to get close too.

“i’m gonna cum in you baby fuck,” he grabs your throat and kisses your mouth as pumps his load deep inside of you.

as soon as you guys calm down he pulls out of you. you’re tired afterwards. he gets you one of his shirts to throw on and you guys cuddle in bed. he turns on the tv only to be met with a picture on the news of you guys kissing in the parking garage.

people sure are quick.

you guys just look at eachother and sigh. he kisses your forehead. you guys will just have to figure it out tomorrow.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Moxxie Redesign! (2/4)

You didn’t think I forgot about this did you? ‘,:/

I wanted to base Moxxie off of what his name actually implies, having nerve and determination. Ive almost entirely changed his personality in certain ways. He is still an assassin but he takes his job very seriously and struggles with his inner morals because of this. Being berated by Blitz often leads to him pushing aside his concerns with his job and causing internal conflict instead that he typically only ever talks to these issues about Millie. She is trying to get him to consider therapy but he doesn’t want to lose his “sparkle” (he gives in eventually and goes and it goes fine, this would be around season 2 but definitely after episode 6)

Moxxie also doubles as a medic for any potential injuries at I.M.P (this happens often). Moxxie was also born in greed so he has the more aquatic qualities of a greed imp such as the little headlamp, frills, and gills. And for any fish nerds, yes I know only female angler fish have headlamps, thats the point. Viv has literally no main trans characters so I guess I have to do everything myself. Plus I’m tired of the super straight shit that happened a few years back, Millie isn’t any less straight for dating a trans man. I think Moxxie certainly struggles with his masculinity and also takes his job so seriously as a way to prove to himself that he’s meeting some sort of “masculinity criteria” however he’s fully aware of how silly the mindset is (hes working on it). I think som trans imps may definitely paint their horns like Moxxie, but with certain days I really doubt he gives much of a shit considering it probably gets chipped a lot anyway.

Moxxie still hates his upbringing and the greed ring leaves a sour taste in his mouth, however he prefers to use his knowledge and features from greed in his work. For example, preforming minor surgery under his headlight, it’s goofy as hell and I think any show benefits from some extent of stupid silliness like that. It’s also good for distractions!

Moxxie isn’t always super serious like in this art either, he’s still a bit stupid but still respects himself. Tough nut to crack because of his past but is very kind underneath somewhere.

Heres some notes I went off while working!

- glasses (REQUIRED. Give him those stupid little circle spectacles)

- Get rid of the stupid suit

- Maybe some interesting horn stuff?

- Make him look a bit more like his voice, not sure how to describe this

- Write a boyloser properly

- Probably doubles as a medic? I think he’d be interested in medicine with all that errrm akshully energy he has

- Make him actually look like an adult (I tried)

- More of a fishy tail

- Born in wrath but both parents are greed imps so he has those features + moved back when he was like 6 idk

- Or idk maybe imps change the longer theyre in a certain ring? Could be fun

I have a lot more I could talk about with this guy but I’ll save it for some other posts :3

[unhingedangstaddict]

Currently working on my own fix-it fic but man this shit is harder than I thought it'd be- I keep crying and then getting distracted reading other fix-it fics. Thought I'd share this snippet to hopefully motivate myself to keep going???

Hen was starting to wonder if maybe Tommy was out for a run when she heard a faint ‘oh shit’ from inside the house. She banged on the door again. “Come on Kinard! I know you’re in there!” She called out. If Tommy’s neighbors thought she was crazy, oh well, too bad. Hen really didn’t care.

Finally the door was opened by Tommy. His hair was a mess- sticking up as though he’d been running his hands through it far too much-, he had deep dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, his eyes were puffy from crying, and frankly, he looked like shit. “What do you want, Hen?” Tommy rasped. Whether his voice was hoarse due to dehydration or yelling and/or crying was unclear.

“To talk about what happened last night.” Hen crossed her arms.

“You mean you’re here to yell at me for what I did?" Tommy guessed. He hadn't forgotten the thinly veiled shovel talk from Hen and Karen months back at the medal ceremony- he wasn't surprised Hen was here now. “Trust me I hate myself for it enough. There’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought about myself.”

“No. I’m here to try and understand what even happened. According to Eddie, Buck wasn’t making very much sense last night. Eddie would’ve come himself to check on you but he’s got Buck right now. Eddie’s worried about you and frankly, I am too.”

Tommy sighed deeply and stepped aside to let Hen into the house.

Soon they were sitting at Tommy’s kitchen table with mugs of coffee in hand.

“So are you gonna tell me what happened or are you just gonna keep having that staring contest with your coffee?” Hen questioned.

“He asked me to move in with him.” Tommy admitted quietly.

“Okay,” Hen said slowly, waiting for Tommy to explain further why he was upset by it. Beyond the obvious matter of Buck leasing his loft apartment and Tommy owning his house, Hen wasn’t sure what the issue was.

“For a split second, I thought about saying yes.” Tommy confessed. “Then I returned to reality and realized I had to end it.”

“But why?” Hen questioned.

“Even if it was only for a second, Hen, I was ready to, what? Sell my house and more than half my stuff to move in with him? I’m not even mad about that part- I’m upset with myself for considering it. I’ve been in Evan’s position before, first gay relationship, lovesick, you think it’s gonna last forever. And I’ve been the first for guys before too. Like I told Evan last night, I know how it ends. And I guess I’d rather break my own heart than wait around for Evan to do it.”

“If you’ve been so sure all this time that it could never work, why did it take until now for you to call things off?” Hen questioned.

“I think from the start I knew I was playing with fire. After the last guy I was a first for, I told myself I wasn’t going to do it anymore. Then I met Evan, and he was just so magnetic, I couldn’t stay away even if I wanted to. I couldn't say no to him. I think I always knew my heart would get broken, and I guess I was okay with that all this time, until last night when I realized I love him, and I knew I had to cut myself off before I reached a point of no return.” Tommy explained. “I mean, I’m a fucking a mess right now and I was the one who called it off. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to survive him ending it.”

“Did you really just figure out last night that you love him?” Hen asked.

“I guess I sorta loved him from the start but last night was different, Hen. I’m in love with him, like well and truly love him, in a way I’ve never felt before, about anyone.” Tears filled Tommy’s eyes. “And I’m just his first. And as badly as I want it, I know I don’t get to be his last.”

“What makes you so sure you can’t be his last?” Hen wondered.

“Because I’m not the forever guy." Tommy shrugged slightly as a tear finally escaped and slid down his cheek. "At best I’m the close-to-but-never-quite-enough guy."

[wroteclassicaly]

Pick You Up At 7

(Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader)

Summary: When your date goes bad, Gator reacts in unexpected ways.

Warnings: Language, implied smut/smut, low self-esteem, body dysmorphia, food insecurity, fat phobia, fat shaming, Gator and reader roast one another, have nicknames, mentions periods, Gator being a tad misogynistic, anxiety, and depression.

Word count: 2,913

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus size!Female Reader

A/N: This one isn’t for the faint of heart, folks! It’s straight up self-indulgent, it’s intense. So… yeah. Read the warnings and read at your own risk! Wanted to provide a little release/comfort for myself, and I’m proud of this one!

You knew they were laughing as soon as you got into the office the next morning. Not so subtle hushed whispers and baiting for remarks that you’d normally snap back with. But you keep your head down, lunch forgotten in the car. You’d never let someone tell you what he had last night, not usually, but you’re sure that it’s what you expect from the guy you hate yourself for really wanting - will do, that’s got you worked up the most.

No, that’s a lie. It’s an added situation, but what happened on your date last night, you’ve never felt so disgusted or panicked.

The men continue to talk before they go back to paperwork and shit talking, leaving you to shed your winter attire carelessly by your rolling desk chair. You sit down as if it’ll break, pulling your long gray buttoned down cardigan over your form. It’s not what you usually wear, either. Proud to show off your figure, knowing the guys here aren’t into your extra pounds, it never bothered you that much to put your cleavage on display while working in the police station as their only secretary. If they have any inkling towards you, then it’s ‘do me a favor’ or ‘get a beer for me, maybe join the rest of the boys as we hit on every other female but you’ kinda thing.

The air in the place changes before the sound of his thick leader combats approaches your desk. You keep your head down and plead, pretending to organize old files that are ready for the shredder.

Please don’t. Please don’t come over here. Please. Please.

“Hey, twerp.” He leans over the counter, vape in one hand, his newly freed arm propped across his other.

You raise a brow as your simple acknowledgement, trying to hold your breath as his cedarwood cologne and mint hair gel soak into your nostrils when he bends down to sort through the little decorative holographic candy dish you keep. Annoyingly, seconds later he’s whining. “Where’s the goods at? The fuck? Shit’s practically empty.”

Go away.

You manage to speak, cringing at how cracked your voice is, dangling over the precipice of breaking down. Here. In front of everyone. In front of him.

“I’m working right now. Go to the Dollar Tree if you want candy so fuckin’ bad.” You don’t even address him with a nickname or his last name. And it unnerves him. With a shove of your small crystal bowl, you watch the leftover mints slosh onto the counter and over your papers, and only then your reaction is what he wants. He needs you to look at him.

He’s smirking and chewing on the filter of his vape, blowing a smoke cloud into the air and making you grit your teeth. That clock in the distance sounds louder, cheaper. And Gator Tillman takes your distracted gaze and creeps around and starts looking at your desk. It’s your space here, regardless. And up until now, he used to know that too. You sigh, asking him what he’s doing,

“Where’s your purse, kid? You must be hiding it all in there. You on the rag, that it? Would explain why you’re being a bitch and the stuff isn’t here.”

“Gator…”

He kicks your coat aside, but pauses his searching when you say his name. Like a damned addiction he can’t yet admit to

“Calm your granny panties down. Where is it at?”

“It’s not here.” You’re losing control of yourself. He keeps pushing.

“Why? You know nobody gives a shit if you bring your red tide plugs in here. Can’t have you bleedin’ all over shit. It’s mighty unprofessional, you know?”

“Take your shriveled little ballsack elsewhere, I’m bored with you.” He’s grateful you’re engaging, hands sliding over his cargo pockets and patting.

“Or —“

Your heart rate accelerates, knowing exactly where this is going. It’s why he originally came to your desk, you’re not stupid.

“ — You didn’t get laid last night. Would also explain this crap.”

“Stop it.” It's pathetic, a weak demand, even to your ears, but it’s all you got, that anxiety clawing your esophagus and winding up around your lungs like a cobweb, squeezing like a vice.

“I told you he was a loser, darlin’. You never listen. So what happened?”

“I asked you to quit.”

“And I asked you what happened. What? He’s too much of a pussy to put it in when there’s a little blood? Did it make him queasy —“

You’re out of your chair and facing him, hands on his leather jacket. And he’s down in your chair, the wheels moving so fast that he flies back and hits the filing cabinet, scattering things everywhere, his legs coming up and then his heels slamming down rather comically. The guys howl in the background, making Gator having to inhale sharply to get it together. You’re walking away from him and down the hall to the restroom where he follows, walking right in behind you and slamming his hand on top of the metal stall door to prevent it from closing.

You try but it’s no use. Your fight is gone, the burn blurs your vision, scorching your throat, making everything hazy.

“You don’t fuckin’ do that to me in front of them, you hear me? You don’t disrespect —“

A sniffle that would’ve been quieter, it echoes in the expanse of the cold, gray walls. You pass him and find yourself clutching the sink, pleading. It’s like you’ve lost all ability to walk, to think, to process how to guard your tightly kept emotions.

And it scares Gator Tillman to death.

“Gator, please just go away?”

His boots creak and squish on the floor as he pivots and finds a space beside you, folding knuckles resting beside your hand, nearly touching, a warmth that threatens you both within its encasement.

“Is this about your outfit? The baggy sweater thing? You know the guys all stare at your big tits when you wear those other tops, right?”

You’d laugh, even be prideful, but you don’t believe a damned thing right now. Because in spite of what he says, you know Gator has a soft spot in his heart that isn’t touched by his namesake’s cruelty. You shake your head and watch him take the vape out, your eyes glistening with tears when you take in his form. He blows a line of smoke and damn near chokes when he sees the actual tears drip down your cheeks.

“Can I have a hit of that?” It’s a bold move. In part because you always roast him for it, and two, because his mouth has just been on it and he’ll get to taste you. You’ll be tasting each other.

He hands it to you, fingers brushing yours. He wants nothing more than to touch you, and he has to fight himself where he stands, feeling an electricity at the nape of his neck that shocks his flesh full of goosebumps, as you wrap your lips around the mouthpiece and puff a few times, coughing. He smiles softly, in spite of the situation.

You, you’re trying to mull over how you can taste his minty saliva beneath the nasty ass acidic fruit cloud that’s misting over your lungs. “Jesus Christ, what flavor is that?”

Taking it back, he’s all too eager to sample you, clicking his lips together and pocketing the vape. “Think it’s banana kiwi.”

There’s a comfortable beat before you both remember why you’re here. It dawns on Gator then, and you both know it. There’s this dark look that pools in the mossy oak of his gaze, drowning out all rationality. His voice cracks sharp, a tone that you’ve never heard before. “Did he hurt you? What happened last night?”

“Just drop it, okay?” You find your voice again, but Gator is already seeing red, a tunnel vision of fire and brimstone with your date from the night prior.

You aren’t ready for it, not in the slightest. Your skin prickles to life, body drenched in elation, relief, and struggling to catch up with your racing heartbeat. His pointer and middle fingers find your chin in the gentlest press, tilting. “Kiddo…”

“Doesn’t matter what he did.”

“You know it fuckin’ does.” Gator’s thumb twitches as it catches a teardrop. It tracks across your jaw and back.

You’re a little angry now, finally snapping at him like an animal that’s cornered. “Fine. You wanna know what he did, Mr. Prom King?” Gator winces at how you use his former title, clearly not impressed. You didn’t run in the same circles and he knows where this is going.

“Twerp, c’mon —“

“Just shut your mouth and listen for once, since you want to know so badly.” Your hands leave the speckled counter and you step away, swiping at your damp eyes. “He took me to dinner and waited until the waiter came to take our orders, to tell them that he wasn’t paying for mine. And you know, I just thought he was a douche. But I guess he had the smarts to wait until the waiter left again before he told me that what I ordered wasn’t appropriate, so he didn’t feel comfortable paying for it.”

Gator, still a little confused, speechless, questions, “Well, what did you get?”

“Steak and fries.” You want to scream at what Gator is not seeing.

“But most people like that kinda shit? I eat that every weekend —“

You blow out a breath that causes you to choke on a small whimper. This causes Gator to change his tune. “Wait…”

“He thought I should have the side salad for ‘someone my size.’ And after dinner was over, he made it a point to inform me that no one would go out with someone dressed in a dress that tight. How embarrassing it is.”

Gator is positively seething now, teeth clenching. And the fact that you wore this for the dickbag and he wasn’t all over you?

“I pointed out that at least half a dozen women in the restaurant were wearing more revealing outfits, that it’s not up to him or anyone else to judge. And he couldn’t wait to cut me off to let me know that he didn’t care about that. He cared about…” Your voice breaks and you laugh in wet disbelief.

“He cared about what?” Gator’s tone is at toxic levels now, nearing a whisper.

There’s no way to hide how you're openly sobbing now, snotting, lower lip quivering. “He cared about girls like me thinking guys like him wanna see someone who weighs this much, wearing something like that.”

“He needs his ass strung up on a barn door and used as target practice —“

“Don’t act like you give a shit, Tillman. I’ve seen the posters in your room, the girls you flirt with at the bars, the ones you talked to in school. Don’t be a fucking marauder with me.”

“How do you know? You didn’t even know me in highschool!” He’s offended and it pisses you off. Another fib. In this small town everyone knows everyone, or at least hears of them - that is a given.

“Oh, I knew you. I knew your crowd. And you all made it abundantly clear I was to stay out of the way. You’re just like all of the other assholes around here when it comes to how you treat women, nothing changes. Weight defines everything, even when it shouldn’t, no matter what body type a person has. It always does to people.”

“Then why the fuck did he ask you out if he was going to act like a bitch?” Gator goes straight for it with a sigh of confusion.

You laugh this time, a sound that levels Gator with diabolical unease. “He was bored and wanted someone to get him off, so he thought I’d be an easy enough, sure thing. Entitled fucking prick.”

It’s a somber silence after, your dying sniffles ceasing as you swipe your nose and attempt to collect yourself, stomach hollow and nauseated. You can’t stay here anymore, not after this. You manage to look at Gator and step with one hand on the bathroom door. “I’m going back to work. If you can not tell the other guys, I’d appreciate it.”

And as Gator is left alone in the cool, dim light bathroom, he’s already formulating an idea, going straight out the back entrance and into his squad car.

The next hour went by quicker than you thought, giving you time to push away all thoughts of your confrontation and reveals with Gator. You’ve given him more ammo to tease you with, but you’re also wondering why he’s not here? You’re in the midst of stacking new department funding files when you hear it. Your date’s voice.

“I didn’t do nothin’! You know I didn’t!”

And another, one that has your mouth going dry.

“Get your ass movin’, pencil dick.”

Your jaw is close to dropping, becoming unhinged seconds later as Gator rounds the corner in his gear, your date’s collar clutched in his fist, the vape in the other, and a very noticeable split across your date’s lip, complete with a bloodied nose. Gator stops short in front of the desk, shoving your date into its edge. He’s panting heavily, raising a brow at you, Gator amused from behind.

“Hey, twerp.” Gator grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Got a booking for ya to process!”

“I… what?” You come up with.

“You gonna tell her what you did, shitbird?”

“What’s going on?” You and Gator are going back and forth, your former date nearly ignored. This is not a coincidence. And you’re practically glued to your chair at the notion that Gator went after him in your honor.

Does this mean…?

“Caught this fucker side swiping candy at the damned Dollar Tree. What kind of prick does that when it’s a dollar?”

“I was not!” Your date is shouting.

The Dollar Tree? Wait…

You feel as if you’ve been hit with a pillow and swallowed the feathers, enjoying their light tickles that scratch at your throat. You want to laugh. By golly, you almost do. Gator whistles for another officer that takes your date down the hall. Seconds later he’s leaning on bended elbows, jacket crunching, his voice a whispered hum for you to hear, and you alone.

“Didn’t wanna forget this.” He unravels his arms and slides one into his pocket, his massive palm full of the candy you both like. He lets it spill into your dish, waiting a few beats before speaking again. “All good now.” With a snatching of his favorite piece of chocolate, he knocks his knuckles on your countertop.

“Get him processed in, yeah?”

You nod dumbly, watching him walk away. He turns around and waves with one finger, however, before he meets the other policeman and your ex-date.

“By the way, be ready at seven. I’m gonna pick you up and we’ll get supper.” He elgonates a leather clad arm, fingertips drumming on the doorway. His voice is raspy when he focuses back on you, eyes dark in a completely different way. “Wear that dress too.”

Your legs tighten together and you pinch at your cardigan, fanning yourself.

“You get your ass movin’ down that hallway, short stack!” Gator finishes, turning to you one last time and flashing a cheeky little wink.

Gator did indeed pick you up in his truck. Seven on the dot. He wore nice dark jeans and a crisp white button up, loosened to let a silver chain peek out, nestled amongst the thick chest hair, his leather jacket over him, hair slicked back, and his watch and normal boots. You wore that tight dress with a little unease, and slightly heeled boots over your sheer black tights, a few rings adorning your hands. When Gator walked you to your side of the car after walking you out of your house, you weren’t regretting anything about the purchase of the form fitting dress any longer.

When you got to dinner, Gator waited as you ordered, encouraging you to get the steak and fries that he knew you wanted. And after drinks, you shared the biggest piece of chocolate cake in the joint. Conversation flowed easy, felt good. Your old date wasn’t mentioned, but you both knew. Gator had taken you back to his place (per your request), where he’d laid you down in his bed and held your legs open until you were begging him to fuck you. And that he did.

His hand splayed atop yours, your dress around your waist, he’d taken you from behind, plaster escaping his paneled wall as a result. When that had ended, he’d stripped you free of everything, and walked you to his mirror, chin on your shoulder, fingers in your cunt. Showing you what he liked about your body, but telling you that it doesn’t matter what anyone but you thinks. And if anyone thinks differently, he’d put them all away. Impractical, but enough to cause you to cream his thick digits and soak his floor.

The next day, you’d worn your most low cut top with pride, settling at your desk to another empty candy dish. When you look up, Gator is smiling in your direction, that damned vape in one hand, candy wrapper in the other.

We all need someone to help us feel good about ourselves sometimes.

[lyricalt]

[tf2 minific] request: tie up job

sniperspy - rating T - sniper trying to flirt for his literal life

(NOW ON AO3)

------

“Oh, well. Hello there, darl. Ain’t this awkward,” Sniper says, glancing up from his scope when Spy’s foot steps over of the barrel of his rifle and stays there.

Spy looks down at him. His revolver isn’t pointed at Sniper, which is awfully lenient. Sniper, who is laying belly down in an extremely vulnerable position on the ground, notes that Spy makes a point to not put the revolver away either.

They don’t usually have run-ins like this. When Sniper takes on an extra side gig, he usually makes some vague reference to the location and Spy does the trick of avoiding the same general area. Unfortunately, vague comments don’t usually stand up to direct communication, which also don’t stand very well in the face of non-disclosure agreements signed with blood, metaphorical or otherwise.

“I hope that isn’t my asset you are attempting to assassinate,” Spy says, arching an eyebrow.

Sniper’s mark is, in fact, the very same asset Spy is probably trying to protect. There’s only one man sitting by his lonesome in his penthouse of pretty glass walls and likely stolen art pieces for some kind of money laundering scheme. Not that Sniper really understands most of it. He’s just a guy on top of a roof with a rifle, a bullet, and a hefty twenty percent deposit in his back pocket.

“No chance of voiding your contract?” he asks. He’d try and bat his eyes for a laugh but Spy’s got years of experience over him on that front. Besides, he shouldn’t need to resort to any more spy-ish tactics.

“Same chance of you nullifying yours, I’m afraid,” Spy replies with a ghost of a smile. He nudges Sniper’s rifle, making sure the aim’s no good. “My asset told me that someone might be after him. Imagine my surprise when the trail led to you.”

“Argh, that was right sloppy of me.” Sniper sighs. “What gave me away?”

“I find myself looking more towards rooftops lately,” Spy says, amused. He lets up on the rifle but slides his foot over Sniper’s firing wrist, pressing down hard until Sniper has no choice but to remove his finger from the trigger. “Now, you know I have to ask; who hired you?”

“And, as you might already know, I dunno. Got me a ticket from the clerk. They just wanted your man dead and I’m just some dummy bloke with a very long gun that can shoot very far.”

Spy groans. He lifts his revolver, pointing it at some non-lethal part of Sniper’s body. “I would hate to torture you for more information.”

Sniper flicks the brim of his hat up to give Spy a hopeful look. “I’m sure I could stand to have a little bit of torture. Who knows, might get me to admit some stuff. Maybe not relevant stuff to your mission. Depends on how hard you go. Y’had no problems tying me up to a chair two weeks ago.”

“How very unprofessional of you to bring that up. You know we’re both working right now.”

“I know, pookie. Just buyin’ some time,” Sniper says, grinning, and pulls the trigger.

Spy’s head whips towards the penthouse. There’s a crash of glass as the bullet goes through, shattering an entire window. The penthouse alarms start blaring.

The weight over Sniper’s wrist lets up by the tiniest fraction, but it’s enough. Sniper uses the second of distraction to take advantage of Spy’s foot as leverage, rolling his rifle over like a tripod to reload. He aims again and fires the second bullet. Spy flinches as the heat of the barrel sears his ankle.

“Bonza,” Sniper breathes, watching the mark fall over with a pretty new hole through their head. Gotta be proud of good work after all, even as Spy kicks the rifle away with an annoyed tsk.

“That was ill-advised,” Spy says, dangerous and low. “You didn’t let me explain. Now there will be other mercenaries after you. I’m only one of several. Your mark hired a team of us.”

“Right, right. I gotcha,” Sniper says and rolls on his back, sweet and innocent as a babe. He slowly puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Before you're obligated to capture me, can I make an offer?"

Spy's revolver tilts to the side, the equivalent of a shrug. "Might as well."

After a moment of making sure Spy won’t shoot him immediately, Sniper puts his fingers to the brim of his hat. Carefully projecting every movement, he pulls out a small slip of paper, like something that would come out of a fortune cookie.

“I’d like to hire you for the service of rescuing me," Sniper says, holding it out. "Here’s what I’ll pay.”

With the revolver still pointed at him, Spy takes the slip. He reads the lucky numbers.

“It’ll be easy,” Sniper adds. “You already know all their security details.”

Spy’s expression goes flat. “You left a trail on purpose. You knew I’d be working for them.”

“S’why I took the job, mate. Big boss cartel fellas are bloody hard to assassinate without some immediate opposition,” Sniper says, getting comfortable on the ground. He sees the end of Spy’s revolver dip downwards. “Already assumed that, even if I got the kill, there would be kickback. You bein’ one of them.”

Spy crumples the slip of paper in his fist. He puts it in his mouth and swallows it.

Sniper thinks the rice paper ought to be a nice touch. No chewing needed. Still, it doesn’t hurt to further his case with, “I did the math. My payout eclipses yours, even after taxes.” 

Spy stares at him. “You looked through my desk. That night when you said you couldn’t find the cond-”

“Plus! Even with the minuscule hit to your reputation—which, with your network, should recover in a month—I’d still come out on top,” Sniper interrupts, now rushing the pitch, “And I’ll still have leftover change to treat you to dinner and a screw at one of them nice resorts you like.” 

“You followed me. You took the job knowing I’d be there,” Spy says, sounding more affronted with each accusation. “You used me as an inside man.”

“Betcha so turned on right now. ‘Cause I did something heaps sneaky and underhanded. Like a rat bastard. Got you so hot for it, I bet.”

Spy’s gaze goes to the sky, as if questioning his life choices. He isn’t denying anything though, so Sniper can mark it as a triple win in his books.

“So, you gonna save me before your other guys start figuring’ it out, or what?” Sniper asks, dropping his voice into a small whine. He has a hunch Spy secretly likes hearing it. “C’mon, lemmie buy you out. You love all that turncoat nonsense.”

They stare at each other. From the corner of his eye, Sniper can see quite a lot of people gathering in the penthouse. The alarms have gone silent, which isn’t a very good sign. Laser sights start skimming the adjacent rooftops.

“What restaurant and which resort?” Spy finally asks, glancing at his watch.

“Non-negotiable, darl. They’re your type of shindigs though, I’ll promise you that.” 

Spy’s eyes dart to the penthouse. His earpiece seems to be going off, muffled radio calls crackling through. “You mentioned screwing.”

“Lucky for you, you get a loyal customer discount,” Sniper says, and since he’s already on his back, he draws up his legs to nudge against Spy’s. “You can have me à la carte.”

Spy looks at the not-so-subtle positioning of his legs for a good long while. After a moment, he taps his earpiece and says something brief in Italian.

Eventually, he tucks the revolver away and holds out his hand. “I can have a getaway yacht ready in fifteen minutes.”

Sniper takes it, and Spy’s hauls him up into a sitting position. If their hands stay joined for a tad longer than strictly necessary, Sniper doesn’t mention it.

“I’ll have to knock you unconscious first,” Spy says. He has a very promising gleam in his eye.

Sniper winces. 

“Aw, no. I can fake unconsciousness well enough,” he tries, but the whiny tone won’t work this time.

“Best to make it look authentic,” Spy says, leaning over to touch Sniper’s face, glove cold, but his thumb brushes against his bottom lip. He smirks down at Sniper in a very familiar way. “Relax your jaw for me.”

Sniper barely has time to do as he’s told before Spy backhands him into oblivion with the butt of his revolver. 

[childlikegoblinqueen]

SCOM WRITERS NOTES! For Criminal…

Darius and Willow (and Hunter)

First? Some mental health stuff.

I’m back and my brain is working overtime not to panic and obsess about things that are currently out of my control.

Not easy. I’m sick to my stomach most days and raising my kids who are now WAY more aware than they were when they were literal babies in 2016 and have a lot of thoughts about *things* takes up a lot of headspace.

I’m going to continue to (try) distracting myself with fan fiction and writing notes… but I may be slower because of everything.

So see below for a few notes about Criminal and how Darius’ (and Steve’s) actions after Willow’s actions frame things.

Darius’ track record of truth versus omissions of full truth is BAD in SCOM. I know that a LOT of folks thought I was deliberately anti Darius etc and that is something that they are entitled to believe, but certainly I was working more with the idea that people are messy AF, especially people coming from an underground resistance to a fascist government, and Darius had other hang ups considering his own relationship with Hunter’s predecessor.

Darius made bad decisions that he meant well by at the time and sometimes even overcompensated to fix which ended up costing more to begin with. This is a REALLY HUMAN PROBLEM. He chose to dive back into government (and mend and reform it) which means it was IMPOSSIBLE for him to share certain things with others on the outside.

In SCOM Hunter, coming from the place he had been all his life needed distance from anything involving government. The two things just couldn’t fit together and as Darius had admitted (and Bria twisted) he’d felt sick when he saw Hunter realizing just how badly he’d failed at not mentoring him, but being in his life.

That said? Everything he had done (for better or for worse) was to protect Hunter and keep him out of government affairs so he could remain a private citizen.

And a big one, that displayed a TON of bias was how he handled the situation between Willow and Kikimora.

He has a lot of compassion for Willow and recognizes very well how someone can be pushed SO FAR PSYCHOLOGICALLY when it comes to the thought of a loved one being hurt and abused.

Further? Kikimora (unlike Hunter and Willow) was a grown ass adult when this occurred (more on that later in the story).

Torture is NOT Willow’s go to by any means. She felt outside her own body when she acted as she had. A feeling both Darius (and Steve) are likely to understand. And they believe she deserves a chance at healing.

So taking her memory and getting her into therapy was part of protecting Willow and Hunter at the time. Not only did he see her as a child who couldn’t process her emotions over not being able to protect someone she loved, but he saw her actual horror at her actions.

This shouldn’t be definitive of her future anymore than Hunter should be defined by his time as a child under Belos.

[carnalhaus]

I know people usually ask about your art, but I've fell in love with your writing ngl, whenever I see bits of it on here and tiktok. It's as if I'm reading extracts from some famous author, it sounds so professional. I guess it would be a harder question to answer but do you have any tips on how to improve storytelling/writing?

you caught me at a good time because i’ve been working on the second draft of long bright dark like a madman.

first of all, thank you berry much. that’s pretty surprising honestly because i always thought my writing came off pretty rushed and awkward, but i think everybody is their own worst critic.

now i’m probably the worst person to ask because nothing i ever do is about improving, but i can try and talk a little bit about what helps me generally. something i discovered relatively recently was that making friends with other writers helps a lot. i’m very reclusive so i was a bit nervous about it, but it’s a lot of fun. it’s good to surround yourself with people who inspire you and motivate you. it’s like parallel play, almost. bounce ideas around, send snippets and blurbs, talk. i read the first two chapters of my friends novel last night and it was like i took a shot of meth, and now it’s four in the morning and i’m still writing.

i would also say don’t be afraid to let it marinate. step away, stop looking at it for a little, and go look at other things instead. read other things, watch stuff, listen to music, go places. strings of words that’ve come to me while doing other things have ended up being some of my best lines. if you look at what you’re doing for too long, it gets all funhouse-y. while you’re reading other things, try not to compare either. structure, prose, and stylization is unique from person to person just like any other kind of art. have fun and play around with what you see instead, incorporate elements you find interesting and see how it fits in for you. literally just play.

don’t be afraid to rewrite things completely. i think most people think of this as draft 1 vs draft 2 etc etc, but i think it can really apply anywhere in the process. if i find myself getting stuck on a particular paragraph, i open up something completely new and start the portion from scratch, keeping in mind the lines that i liked, and trying to reword things that bothered me. i tend to get distracted with so many things on a page at once, and end up not being able to tell what’s irritating me when i’m stuck. working through it from the beginning without jumping around, but still having that original there to refer back to, makes it much easier to sort through.

this is a fun one, but the music you listen to while you write might be fucking you up. just the other day a friend of mine mentioned how she tends to listen to music without lyrics while she writes, because lyrics end up distracting her. turns out i focus much better when i don’t have words in my ears. i’m not that disciplined so i don’t stick to it always, but it definitely helps me focus.

similarly, i think your environment in general can really help. i tend to draft things on my phone because ideas come to me very quick and scrambled, and it’s the best way to get them out. i’ve started to sit down with a drink at my computer and transfer it into a proper document to sort of descramble. even silly stuff like the colors and format of the page can help. make it look fun. i like sitting down at my desktop when im able because i think my pink fancy keyboard helps me feel more professional.

if you have questions about anything specific, i can always try and answer. here’s an unedited lbd passage.

[shujohajohaminnie]

Pink Pandas

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Fluffy 

Word Count: 3071

Summary: What happens when you come to find out the man you’ve had a crush on for the longest time also shares those same feelings for you? 

Afab!reader, Profanity, Pet names(Baby) Public sex kink, Raw sex (Wrap it before you tap it).

Surprise at the end

You sighed turning yet again in the bed that felt twenty times bigger. You touched his side confirming his absence. Reluctantly you got off the bed making your way out of your shared bedroom. Immediately opening the door you were exposed to the scene of the boys all sleeping on your couch and living room floor. Even with them having their own dorms they were still usually over at your place. You fixed the blanket to cover a shivering I.N’s body before you made your way to the room he spent most of his time in. Of course, he was there, the computer illuminated his face in the very dark room, one headphone on, to be on high alert just in case you or the kids needed him, but even then all of his attention was on the screen. 

“Chris?” Nothing, he was ‘in the zone’ like he’d call it. “Chan?” You walked towards him tapping his shoulder. He gasped jumping in his seat, his hand grasping his chest as he turned to look at you completely in shock. Yeah, this was the man who was going to defend you against harm. “Baby?” he whispered walking past you to turn on the studio light. “What are you doing up” “I can’t sleep” You whispered leaning your head on his chest. He laughed wrapping his arms around you. “Why not” “I can’t sleep if you're not in bed with me” “I know I know baby, but I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind so I figured I’d try to distract myself with some song-making” “Do you wanna go on a drive to clear your head” “That would really help me”. You smiled pulling away and walked towards the door, grabbing the car keys. He laughed behind you taking the keys from your grasp. “I’ll drive baby, we need to come back home alive” “Why are you so sure that I’m a terrible driver” “Because remember what happened last time you drove” “How many times do I have to say it, it wasn’t my fault” “Your right baby… that sideway shouldn’t have been there”

His hand gripped the wheel while his other held yours over your thigh. “Are you okay?” You asked looking out the window. Nothing, yet again.“Chan” Nothing, You turned to see him just staring at the red traffic light. What was he thinking about? The light turned green but he wouldn’t go. “Chris” Nope. “Christopher!” The car behind you honked pulling him out of his head, he quickly hit the gas going straight, destination unknown. You let go of his hand running yours through your hair. “Whats wrong” he asked turning to look at you. “You… what’s wrong with you?” “Nothings wrong with me” “Chris… I’m not blind. When something’s wrong you detach… and you're not here with me. Where are you, what's up?” “I just have a lot of things on my mind-” “You said that” You sighed turning to look out the window again. You weren’t mad, you were worried. Lately, you’ve been seeing less and less of your boyfriend, he’s been working like crazy on the newest comeback. But you were worried maybe he’d been overworking too much. He hasn’t been sleeping well, You don’t know how he's eating since he usually spends his time either in the JYP building or in his studio in your shared apartment. It was starting to affect you in a way. Your mind wanders like usual already but when he’s not laying in bed next to you how can you ensure that he’s safe, or he won't pass out yet again from malnourishment? The only way you could make sure he was okay was if you could feel him, and he was with you physically but not mentally. “Pull into this parking lot please” You spoke softly pointing to the parking lot of the supercenter. This was a very popular store but at this unholy hour, the space around you was basically empty. 

“We must look weird parked in the way back of the parking lot at 3 a.-” “Don’t bullshit me right now Chris… are you okay?” You cut him off turning to look at him once more. He looked guilty, he looked like a child being scolded by his mother for getting a bad grade. He was caught, he couldn’t hide it anymore. “No” he whispered looking down away from your eyes scared that you’d see right through him and see what really was eating at him. You were taken aback. It was extremely rare that Chan would admit that he wasn’t okay. To anyone. His favorite answer to that question being the typical “I’m fine”. “I’m not okay” he said out loud. You heard him, but he wasn’t saying it to you, but to himself. He was accepting that he wasn’t fine. “You don’t have to tel-” “I’m just so stressed with everything going on… I told them I could take it all, dance practice, recording, then working my ass off to go back to those tracks fix a little here, and a little there and now with-”. He looked up at you, he almost sold himself out. “And now?” “It’s nothing” he brushed it off, turning to look at the bright lights of the store’s sign. 

You knew he wasn’t cheating, you crossed that off the list right away. For two reasons, he was far too busy to produce, record, practice, spend time with you, and now someone else? There were frankly not enough hours in the day to handle anymore. Reason number two being he loved you, he really did. You noticed it, in the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, the way he treated you. He made it very known that he loved you oh so much. So what the hell was this ‘and now’ situation? Was it something with work? Was it something with you? You could go about this in two ways, you could either get it out of him or you could wait until he told you at his own pace, when he felt like telling you. Would your overthinking self go insane knowing there was something else he wasn’t telling, yes. 

“What could I do” You sighed taking the high road. You slowly grabbed his hand interlocking your fingers. He turned to look at you once more visible tears in his eyes. This next addition to his problems was eating him alive, but you didn’t want to be the annoying girlfriend who forced everything out of him. You both believed in privacy in your lives, so you weren’t going to cross a boundary just for your sake. All you could do was hope he’d tell you soon. “I don’t know” he finally said grazing his finger over your hand. Of course, in typical Bang Christoper Chan manner, he was going to try to comfort you, even though he was the one that needed it. If he didn’t know how you could help him, you surely didn’t. “Maybe a hug?” You suggested turning your whole body to face him. “It’s a start” he forced a smile pushing his seat all the way back to give you space to crawl into his lap. You embraced him letting his head rest in your chest while you stroked his hair whispering sweet confessions of your love and support towards him. 

"What would I do without you?" "You'd be just fine" "No I wouldn't… I'd crash and burn" As much as romance movies romanticized that line the sad reality was that it wasn't romantic. Not even in the slightest. It was scary, having to picture the person you love the most 'crashing and burning' just because they couldn't be with you for whatever reason. "I'd be okay" he whispered, noticing the gears in your head turning. He knew you, you were his other half of course he knew that you'd be overthinking his comment. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, enjoying the moment with you. It was moments like that he held dear to his heart. "I don't want to be without you, but I'd be okay… sad, but okay" he whispered his hands resting on your lower back drawing small circles on the exposed skin. " I don't want to be without you either Channie" "Then don't" he smirked kissing you. You felt him grow hard underneath you, obviously taking in your surroundings you pulled away both of you gasping for air. He whined feeling you trying to escape his grasp wanting to go back to your seat. He held you down though, his hold on you being way stronger than your attempts. “Chan someone could see” “Let them see”. You looked at him shocked, he took this moment to place chaste kisses on your neck. He’s always said crazy things like this, like the time the waiter was flirting with you during dinner. Chan was visibly jealous and as much as he tried to show that you were his, by wrapping his hand around you or kissing your lips the waiter wouldn’t give up. So he whispered in your ear low enough so the boys wouldn’t hear his sinful comment. “I’ll bend you over right now and fuck you in front of him so he can see who you belong”. Or like the time that you two went walking in the park at night to clear your heads and he sat in you in his lap on the park bench grinding his hard member into your clothed pussy, begging you to let him fuck you, in public for everyone to see. But those were all jokes, He wasn’t being serious, right?

“Chan” You moaned feeling his fingers draw circles on your clit over your sleep shorts. “Chan we can’t” You moaned melting into his touch. “Baby you’re giving me mixed signals” He laughed pulling his hand away to rest on your thighs. “Do you really want me to stop” You looked around taking in the fact that no one was really around. “Fuck it” You kissed him while your hands traveled down to his sweatpants pulling them down to let his dick spring out. He went back to continue his previous movements and you shook your head pushing his hands away. “Baby what's wrong I’m just gonna stretch you out” “Skip it I’m wet enough, I need you now” “Are you sure” “Mhmm just fuck me channie”. Hearing you call him in these kinds of situations always drove him insane. He positioned you over him pulling your shorts to the side once more allowing you to sink down on him. He watched your face contort into one of pure bliss and pleasure. While you were in fact wet enough you still should've allowed him to prep you a bit. You felt yourself split into two in the best way possible on his throbbing cock. He needed you just as much as you did but he also needed to make sure that you wouldn’t hurt yourself. “Tell me when baby” he grunted really fighting himself to thrust up into you. You nodded resting your face in the crook of his neck to hide yourself, just in case someone was watching you. “C-chris… you can move” You spoke against the skin of his neck. You began to pepper his neck with kisses, you so badly wanted to mark him so everyone could see that he was taken, that he was your ma-. “Mark me baby” “But what about-” “The makeup artist can cover it up, remember when they covered up the scratches you left behind that one time” He grunted thrusting up into you with every word he spoke. You obliged leaving behind hickies on his neck and chest for the world to see. 

The windows were fogging, your minds were completely mush at the overpowering feeling of pleasure the both of you were feeling. You threw your head back as you felt his hands on your ass gripping tight for better leverage. Your body had gone completely limp he was doing all the work by bringing you up and down on his dick like a lifeless sex doll. Occasionally checking up on to make sure he wasn’t hurting you. “You okay baby” “Mhmm feels so good channie… Making me feel so good” You moaned grabbing his shoulders for stability. He worked one hand down to your clit drawing you even closer to your high. “Channie I’m close” “Me too baby… hold it for me yeah, Can you hold it for me baby, Can you hold it for channie” You nodded bitting your bottom lip looking down at his fingers playing with you. You tightened around him trying your best to wait for him but you just couldn’t. You cummed around him feeling even less in control of your body you rested your head on his chest as he continued to fuck you. “Fuckkk” He grunted throwing his head back, as he quickly pulled out of you cumming on both of your clothes. “Fuck I’m sorry” “Shit what are we gonna do now” “I mean we could go back home” “And risk the kids seeing us with cum on our clothes” “Shit your right” The both of you caught your breath trying to come up with a solution. In sync, you two looked at the store in front of you and then back at each other. “We’ll be in and out” “Okay but we need to be quick, we can’t risk dispatch seeing us like this, imagine how much trouble you’d be in” “Yeah imagine how much trouble I’d be in for having sex with my beautiful girlfriend oh my god” he said sarcastically rolling his eyes. He really did hate how there was an unrealistic expectation held up for him and anyone in the industry. They were only human and they had to do human things. Poor boys couldn’t even yawn on camera. 

He put his hoodie up and put on a mask to disguise himself, holding your hand and guiding you, you stood behind him. Yeah, there was cum on him but it was worse on you. You two both made it to the girl section first, you saw something that he obviously didn’t. Quickly you walked away from him and grabbed the onesie and then picked one in his size.  Not noticing you gone Chan went to the guy section his mind also seeing the onesies section. “Okay, baby quickly look for a good one” No answer. “Y/n” he turned around confused at your silence, only to notice your absence. “Y/n?!” “Okay, so I may have found the perfect one” You laughed walking towards him hiding something behind your back. “Baby hide yourself someone can see” “Calm down Chris… there's literally no one here” You laughed getting closer to him. He tried to peek at what you were hiding only for you to back up and conceal it more. “Nuh uh… patience babe… close your eyes” “Baby” “I’ll only show you if you close your eyes and show me your hands” “But I already have one in mind” “Christopher Bahng” “Yes ma’am” he closed his eyes holding out his hands. You placed the onesie in his size in his open hands smiling. “You may open” He opened his eyes looked down then closed his eyes again. “Y/n I’m giving you three seconds to get this away from me” “But it’s cute” You laughed taking it from his hands and holding it up so he could see it in all it’s glory. He opened his eyes rolling his eyes at the sight. “It’s very pink” It was in fact very pink, knowing his obvious distaste towards color you had to pick it. You didn’t notice all the details at first, but after paying very close attention to the pajama you notice the pink fluffy tutu the words princess written across the chest, and the crown on the hood. It was perfect. “Put that down and help me find a wolf onesie” “But what about this don’t you want to be a pretty princess” “I’m gonna have to pass”

“Nope, babe sorry just these” You sighed holding out the panda onesies. "Pandas? Are you sure there aren't any wolves" “I’m sure it’s either the pandas or the princess onesies” “But-” “Hey you're the one who cummed on both our outfits so pick one” “Fine… the pandas it is” “Fuck I really wanted the pink one” “Maybe next time baby” “Do you plan on cumming on my pj’s again” “Maybe” He quickly paid and led you both out of the store back to the car where you both changed into your new outfit discarding the old clothes into his back seat. 

You looked in the mirror laughing at the way your hair was a mess after changing, and Chan looked at you with pure love and devotion as you fixed it. “This” He whispered going into the glove compartment of the car, pulling out a tiny black velvet box. “This is what was on my mind. . . It’s been on my mind lately how much I love you and how I want to take that next step with you, I can’t imagine a life without you, and I know more than anything that we’re ready for this new stage, but I’ve been stressing on how to make it perfect… for my perfect girl” It was your turn for tears to form in your eyes as you looked at him, then at the box, then back at him. “Chirs…. This is perfect” “Really” “Mhmm” You bit your lip to fight back tears. “Well in that case” he smiled opening the box to reveal the most perfect, most beautiful-looking ring you’ve ever seen. You couldn’t stop them anymore, tears were falling down your face for sure now. He noticed taking his thumb to wipe them away. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n would you make me the happiest man and marry me” “Yes”.

[switch-witch-erin]

This is gonna be my last post regarding the conflict with Ticklethentopple. Though it’s more of a rant than an actual post, I can’t help myself, I’m so fucking angry

YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW, BRO

You said some truly shitty things towards an entire community of people and blame ME for reacting?? For real??

Personally, I don’t believe a word of what you said in the post, but I have no proof, so I’m going to assume you’re telling the truth. Though you could’ve turned the notifications/asks off a lot sooner or temporarily deleted the app lol.

What you’re going through sounds like hell, but it has nothing to do with the conflict. YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED IT ALL. You started blaming people left and right, including some of my friends, my favourite artists and people whom I look up to in the community. And now you’re trying to invoke pity for something completely unrelated to what happened? For real? You and your suckup encouraged people to block Tasay and me, publicly claiming that we’re groomers. I have a feeling that if someone called you a groomer and urged people to cancel YOU, you’d be at the very least displeased with it :)

“I said some fucked up things and blamed innocent people for a terrible crime they didn’t do, but I was going through difficult times, why are you mad at me 🥺”

Was I supposed to ignore getting called a pedo? “Something we disagree on”. Yeah, I do disagree with you calling me a groomer, yes. Do you really not understand how serious this accusation is? Yet you act as if you accidentally stepped on my foot in a queue, and I’m making a big fuss over it.

Once again, I literally said that I don’t approve of the bullying. I didn’t ask people to send you threats and what not, I asked for entirely the opposite. You only have yourself to blame for the stunt you pulled. All I did was expose it.

“yOu ArE a HoRrIbLe PeRsOn”

At least I’m not a groomer anymore, that’s a nice change of pace, thank you

You can work your ass through whatever you want, it’s not an excuse to be an asshole. You’re fucking 30 years old, take some responsibility for once. SURPRISE — YOU’RE THE ONE TO BLAME FOR YOUR WORDS.

If before all of that I tried to explain myself, to make peace and to establish at least some sort of mutual understanding, now I’m just so fucking pissed. I don’t see any point in talking to a fucking infantile brick wall. Peace out, you pathetic joke ✌🏻

And to everyone who’s been monitoring the situation — please, don’t send me any more asks about the conflict with Ticklethentopple, and don’t send me screenshots of their posts, I’m fed up with them, I don’t want it to be on my blog. Feel free to DM, but I might be too tired to respond. Right now I want to concentrate on tickling-related stuff as it gives me distraction and dopamine to get back on my feet. I’m already working on the promised posts about overall liking tickling experience and prevention of minors getting groomed. In other words, I want to concentrate on stuff that’s important to me and not waste my time

[stilljuststardust]

Hi! I’ve been working with the loa for just a few days now, I’m very new to it. But ur blog has helped me a lot to figure stuff out!!! Thank you for making ur posts so accessible and easy to follow!!!

I’ve been trying to shift for a few years now, went through all the shifttok nonsense. It’s. Been a frustrating journey. But I feel like I’m on the right track with loa. I was wondering, with using the loa, saying affirmations before bed, telling myself I am in my dr, what do I say if I wake up here? Currently I’ve just been telling myself “it’s fine I did shift because I exist in my dr always” but, idk, I’m not sure how to not feel like I failed while still affirming that I haven’t.

Another thing I feel a bit stuck on, is focusing entirely on the 4d while shifting. I’m plenty good at imagining vivid scenarios. Other senses I’m okay at for the most part. But how do I bridge the gap of “I’m imagining this happening right now” and “this is really happening in my reality” I feel like it’s a mix of still feeling the 3d which I’m trying to acknowledge will be the last thing to change. While also it being the fact that I’ve been imagining scenarios in my head for years. I’m finding it difficult to tell myself “this is real become aware of it” when I’m used to just daydreaming. If that makes sense?

Anyways, thank you for all u do on ur blog, you’re really helpful!!!

✧Hello love!

You don't need to acknowledge the 3D. You don't need to do anything with it. It is dependent on you to stay the way that it is. I can't stress this enough it just isn't a factor. It's not that you have to find a way to remove it you just have to know it's not part of the equation at all.

The way to close the gap is to realize that there is no gap. It'll be enough when you let it be enough. I know that's the hard part. It's hard to just let it be because part of you is worried that it's not enough and is in search of something "better".

Visualize from the perspective of your DRself. Not just in the literal sense of the visual POV but as in you interact with the visualization as if you are your DRself. This is where I am, this is what I think about where I am, etc. You're trying to put yourself there mentally by thinking as if you are already there.

For me the difference between a daydream and a visualization is a day dream is detached in a way, like a scene I'm replaying, a visualization is putting myself there. Like one of those moments where the world is still and you just look at it. Then again I'm more of a robotic affirmation person myself so take what resonates with you.

If that is hard then affirm over and over "this is real, I'm in my DR" or something else like that. Repetition is a powerful tool for changing how you think.

Don't twist yourself into knots over belief. It may feel weird at first but that doesn't matter what matters is that you stick with the weird instead of entering your old mental state.

It's ok if you had an emotional reaction, it's ok if your heart dropped a little, just stick with the new story mentally. Your emotions won't stop you. It's ok to feel them. Your subconscious will take you at your word so only tell it what you want.

All that being said I think I know the perfect method for you if you're good at day dreams! The distraction method is a method where you get yourself into the alpha state, and the daydream. That's all. Click the link if you want to know more.

✧More links

My post on "ignoring" the 3D

You only have one limiting belief.

Senses shift last. I've said this in like 3 different posts so I don't know if this is the one you're coming from, so I thought I'd link it anyway.