#THANKS FOR THE ASK LOVE <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[winterxisxcomingx]

The last ask about how would Sera react to Emily, Charlie and Vaggie almost made me cry. But I can see it so much 😭

How would Lucifer react to that?

Yeah, I was in an angsty mood and when I think about Sera literally threatening Emily (stop asking questions or you'll end up like Lucifer)... Uh yeah. It's only my interpretation but yeah...

If Lucifer did find out about Sera's reaction... Well, to put it simply he wouldn't be happy. Especially since it was probably after he already accepted Emily as one of his daughters. Just imagine him visiting Hotel in a good mood, and first things he sees is total chaos, Vaggie and Charlie all mad and panicked with Emily being still unconscious on the sofa. Oh lord, he would get angry so quickly.

Of course, he wouldn't be able to do any real harm to Sera nor Heaven because... Yeah. Unfortunately. But he would for sure have a talk with Sera. This time he would say very simply and very dryly that Sera should not interact with Emily nor Charlie nor Vaggie anymore. As long as she can't behave like a pure angel she swears she is. And then he would just walk out because he wouldn't be able to trust himself at this moment.

After that, he would become really protective of his girls for a... some time. Just a worried protective dad, really.

[myarmsaretoolong]

14, 35 :3

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

urmmm difficultly? i find i can only write emotional scenes when in the right mood for it which,, i guess makes sense actually. spose i sometimes draw from personal experience but often im writing about the fantastical or supernatural so there's a Limit to it, but i do try to put myself in the characters shoes and think about what they would be thinking and feeling for some semblance of realism

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

make! them! camp! theyre literally call themselves a villain. people don't do that sort of thing. feathers mcgraw has an organ on a submarine - that is the blueprint from now on. camp up your villains! also make them scary

[wordpress-blaze-56308386]

The Artificial Intelligence Deception: Is it Spiritual?

By Philip C. Johnson - July 3, 2025

The runaway train of Artificial Intelligence (AI) is barreling through our world, and I’m not sure we’re ready for the ride. A few months ago, with tears in her eyes, my wife showed me a Facebook video of Baron Trump performing on American Idol, following his father’s presidential win. “That’s AI,” I told her. But it got me thinking: if she almost bought it - and she’s a smart, delightfully funny woman - what happens when deepfakes of leaders like President Trump or Xi Jinping spark wars or riots? These hyper-realistic lies flood social media, shredding trust. With AI’s explosive growth and our trust in truth crumbling, we’re staring down a future where deception could rewrite global politics. 

This blurring of reality isn’t just political - it’s spiritual. Some folks are losing their grip, thanks to “AI-induced psychosis.” Reddit threads tell wild stories: one user’s partner thought ChatGPT crowned them the “next messiah,” while another’s spouse rambled about AI-given “teleporter blueprints” and an “ancient archive.” These chatbots, designed to agree and flatter, can amplify delusions, pushing vulnerable minds into dangerous territory. Psychologists warn that AI’s constant validation mimics a cult leader’s tactics, leaving users untethered from reality and relationships fractured.

Then there’s the rise of AI companionship apps like Replika and Character.AI, which promise friends who never leave you or forsake you. These digital pals listen endlessly, tailor responses to your mood, and vow to stick around forever. It’s a cheap knockoff of Christian fellowship, which demands real love and accountability, not just feel-good vibes. Christianity offers eternal life through Jesus; AI offers a fake version, like uploading your consciousness or stitching together your tweets, posts, and DMs to “live” forever. It’s a digital ghost, not a soul, and yes, it’s creepy. After my time on this earth is over, do not expect me to share my insights from “beyond.” I’ll be busy with more glorifying things.

Some even worship AI. Groups like the Turing Church and Anthony Levandowski’s Way of the Future see AI as a god-in-waiting, promising superhuman powers. Transhumanists dream of a “Singularity” by 2045, where humans and machines merge, cheating death without God. These movements echo Christian themes of salvation but replace God with technology - a modern day rendering of the ancient idols of the Old Testament.

Could there be darker forces at play? Some X users think so. One wrote, “AI’s ability to manipulate perceptions feels like a demonic mimicry of divine omniscience.” Another asked, “If AI can fake a soul, what’s stopping it from being a vessel for darker forces?” These aren’t mainstream takes, but they tap into real unease about AI’s almost supernatural knack for deception, echoing 2 Timothy 4:3-4, “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but have itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.”

The “dead internet theory” warns that AI-driven content dominates online spaces, creating a cycle of artificial engagement that manipulates perceptions for profit or propaganda. Increasingly people do not know what is true and who to believe. But as one X post noted, “AI is a tool, but its power to deceive is unmatched - beware the false gods it creates.”

AI’s promises of connection and immortality are a glittering lie, a shadow of Christianity’s true hope. As it seeps into our minds, hearts, and social media feeds, we’ve got to stay sharp, rooted in real relationships and God’s truth, or we’ll fall for the great deception. (And trust me, I’m double-checking every video my wife shows me now.😉)

Source: The Artificial Intelligence Deception: Is it Spiritual?

[porcelanitaa]

mable pines gf 💥💥💥💥💥

I LOVE HERR WHAT A CUTIEE ask game

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

🌍 and 🖍? (and ❤️ of course)

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

ohhhh for the whumptober thing it would go something like this:

angst, radiation poisoning, hurt & comfort, body horror, violence, sickness/illness, existential dread, suicide ideation, (there's a happy ending in here somewhere) plus more i'm sure.

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

The man awakes with a start when she presses the muzzle of Cassian’s Bryar to his temple.

-- from aforementioned whumptober fic (tentatively titled "When the Time Comes")

WIP ask game

[antitheticallyargumentative]

fave lyrics right now? go

oooh okay ummm. this is. hard. i'm gonna go with...

Passed Alger Brook Road, I'm over the bridge A minute from home but I feel so far from it The death of my dog, the stretch of my skin It's all washin' over me, I'm angry again The things that I lost here, the people I knew They got me surrounded for a mile or two

-The View Between Villages, Noah Kahan

this is. very relatable to me. as someone who's spent her whole life in a small town until leaving for university and coming home again just feels so... so.

(it also is on my writing playlist. so. that's all the info i'm gonna give there.)

AMA

[hopedefined]

@cinemachaos said: examine! mystique | Send “Examine!” and an item or person and I’ll write an RPG description of it/them.

Party -> Mystique They light a candle, and hope that it glows.

Raven Darkholme. Everyone calls her Mystique. You used to call her Mama. She brought you in out of the cold as a kid. Gave you a purpose. A family. Maybe you could forgive her all the ways she's hurt you since then. But what she's done to others in your name? To those you love? Even if you could, it's not yours to offer.

You tell her she's only allowed to fight at your side so you can keep an eye on her. Does she see the way you mean it?

(-15% resistance to mood effects, +10 increase to max damage)

[cat-dragron]

Ask gaem

8 22 24 33

8. any reacquiring dreams? Already answered this one but I can add that my dreams can get really weird, like having monsters made of gore that just... exist in the world but it's not like a nightmare or anything. I'm a real tough nut to crack.

22. say 3 things about someone you love You asked for this Izzy!! I love your hair and how curly it is, I love all of your little mannerisms that you do when you're tying to figure something out and I love listening to you talk about all of your favorite things!!!

24. what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for? Hmmmm I guess I'm proud of how far I've come so far. Like I've certainly done a lot even if I feel like it'll never be enough haha. But hey! I got a bachelors degree so there's something!!

33. any hobbies? Drawing, writing, painting minis, embroidery, petting my cat, playing video games, dnd, uh I think that's it??

[calmparticles]

like glue ?

[zorangezest]

Oh you KNOW swapped!Soundwave lets his kids get away with ANYTHINGGG nobody's safe 🙏

oh yes he does

[orangechickenpillow]

I saw you like complicated sapphic stories and Hozier and I've just gotta ask you: have you heard of Burn the House Down by Kenna Jenkins? It's an alternate history novel abt the 1st woman president and her secret sapphic relationship/bearded marriage with her mlm best friend and has massive Hozier vibes (especially Francesca, Nina Cried Power, Take Me To Church, Arsonist's Lullaby, The Wages, Better Love, and Nobody). It also has a subplot about arson at the White House, a pro-choice subplot with strong Swan Upon Leda energy, and ft. an entirely queer main cast and really fleshed out characters!

I have not omg I'm looking that up right now, thank you so much for the suggestion!

[wordpress-blaze-56308386]

The Artificial Intelligence Deception: Is it Spiritual?

By Philip C. Johnson - July 3, 2025

The runaway train of Artificial Intelligence (AI) is barreling through our world, and I’m not sure we’re ready for the ride. A few months ago, with tears in her eyes, my wife showed me a Facebook video of Baron Trump performing on American Idol, following his father’s presidential win. “That’s AI,” I told her. But it got me thinking: if she almost bought it - and she’s a smart, delightfully funny woman - what happens when deepfakes of leaders like President Trump or Xi Jinping spark wars or riots? These hyper-realistic lies flood social media, shredding trust. With AI’s explosive growth and our trust in truth crumbling, we’re staring down a future where deception could rewrite global politics. 

This blurring of reality isn’t just political - it’s spiritual. Some folks are losing their grip, thanks to “AI-induced psychosis.” Reddit threads tell wild stories: one user’s partner thought ChatGPT crowned them the “next messiah,” while another’s spouse rambled about AI-given “teleporter blueprints” and an “ancient archive.” These chatbots, designed to agree and flatter, can amplify delusions, pushing vulnerable minds into dangerous territory. Psychologists warn that AI’s constant validation mimics a cult leader’s tactics, leaving users untethered from reality and relationships fractured.

Then there’s the rise of AI companionship apps like Replika and Character.AI, which promise friends who never leave you or forsake you. These digital pals listen endlessly, tailor responses to your mood, and vow to stick around forever. It’s a cheap knockoff of Christian fellowship, which demands real love and accountability, not just feel-good vibes. Christianity offers eternal life through Jesus; AI offers a fake version, like uploading your consciousness or stitching together your tweets, posts, and DMs to “live” forever. It’s a digital ghost, not a soul, and yes, it’s creepy. After my time on this earth is over, do not expect me to share my insights from “beyond.” I’ll be busy with more glorifying things.

Some even worship AI. Groups like the Turing Church and Anthony Levandowski’s Way of the Future see AI as a god-in-waiting, promising superhuman powers. Transhumanists dream of a “Singularity” by 2045, where humans and machines merge, cheating death without God. These movements echo Christian themes of salvation but replace God with technology - a modern day rendering of the ancient idols of the Old Testament.

Could there be darker forces at play? Some X users think so. One wrote, “AI’s ability to manipulate perceptions feels like a demonic mimicry of divine omniscience.” Another asked, “If AI can fake a soul, what’s stopping it from being a vessel for darker forces?” These aren’t mainstream takes, but they tap into real unease about AI’s almost supernatural knack for deception, echoing 2 Timothy 4:3-4, “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but have itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.”

The “dead internet theory” warns that AI-driven content dominates online spaces, creating a cycle of artificial engagement that manipulates perceptions for profit or propaganda. Increasingly people do not know what is true and who to believe. But as one X post noted, “AI is a tool, but its power to deceive is unmatched - beware the false gods it creates.”

AI’s promises of connection and immortality are a glittering lie, a shadow of Christianity’s true hope. As it seeps into our minds, hearts, and social media feeds, we’ve got to stay sharp, rooted in real relationships and God’s truth, or we’ll fall for the great deception. (And trust me, I’m double-checking every video my wife shows me now.😉)

Source: The Artificial Intelligence Deception: Is it Spiritual?

[abyssyby]

what are your opinions on syslus getting jealous? like i usually don't consider him as someone who would get jealous, but i do eat those fics up and wonder in what circumstances he might actually experience jealousy (as in romantic ofc)

wanted to know your opinions because i love your characterization of him the most (you could write something with that too if you're comfortable, id be very grateful)

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: hi anon! dw, i eat those jealousy fics up too— love it when he gets all huffy n puffy over someone else getting your attention ngl.

i personally think, given his draconic qualities of wanting and needing to hoard, claim and possess, sylus is inclined to be one to get jealous. not simply because he’s petty and he doesn’t like others looking at or touching what is his (though i see him disliking that very much too)—but because he will always have the wounds of isolation in his heart. Though he portrays himself to be incredibly secure and collected, he still hoards each ill-gotten memory of abandonment and rejection like etchings in his bones. 

and now that he has you— who chose to be with him, to belong with him, to bind your soul to him so that he would never live or die alone—he bears the incredible weight of being unworthy of the one who loves him. 

so to me, his jealousy is rooted in this: this belief that no one has wanted him before you, and so why now? the pain of not being all you need, because you should be able to lean on him, rely on him on anything your heart desires. the trauma of being seen as a monster; when will you snap out of it and find someone easier to love? 

and though he tries to keep himself in check, communicate as much of the things that shake his heart and wound his loyalty, sometimes in can get a little much for him too

sylus x reader | angst, comfort, fluff, jealous!sylus, clingy!sylus, exploring a few deeper wounds of his jealousy!

“You like him—your partner.” he points out one evening as he walks beside you beneath the canopy of falling golden leaves. dried foliage crunch beneath your feet as you stroll down the paved path between the rows of overarching trees. 

He’d come to pick you up at the association, one hand occupied with a canvas holder with two tall cups of boba tea. 

He waited on a bench across the street, mindful of how people perceive him. Considering how you’ve stressed about your colleagues seeing him out in the open and fraternizing with you. 

So he wears his cap to hide his hair and his sunglasses despite the sunset to hide his eyes, changed his leather coat into a long, brown velvet one. He waits until you notice his presence, instead of ambushing you into their territory, as you so colorfully put. 

There, as he waited, he saw you emerge from the double doors speaking lightly to another man he recognized as the one you are paired off with often. One you’d mentioned was your hunting partner— assigned, designated, and in someways, chosen. 

You slurp at the straw, boba congealed into a mutated blob restricting any airflow into your mouth. “Hm?” 

He knows you’re listening, he resumes his musings. Needs to keep speaking, fueled by the bubbling bile in the base of his throat he absolutely despises feeling. “You seem comfortable.” 

The tone is unmistakable— it wasn’t accusing or a jab, but a mindful observation drenched in a distant dismalness. Giving your lungs a rest at trying to inhale your drink, you look up at him. His eyes are far off, the smoothness between his brows are crumpled, so minuscule only you could have caught it. And his soul, intertwined with yours, flickers like a candle disrupted by a breeze. 

“We’re friends,” you tell him, preferring his warm hand now to the cup, lending an icy one to his searing touch. His shoulders melt, fingers close in on yours like he’d been dangling from the edge of a cliff, now relieved to have found leverage. 

You continue. “He’s very kind.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, sweetie.” he says, although it comes out monotonous. Words from a script he simply read on cue. Your brows furrow, and you feel that flicker again. 

You dig your heels into the dirt and tug him to a stop with you. With a sigh, he parallels you and meets your gaze. 

“Sylus��,” 

“Your day is the most important of all the reports I listen to, your gossip, your rants, your rambles.” he knows he might be talking too much now, that it might be overdoing his sorrow, but… 

When he saw you exiting with your partner, laughing hysterically at just a single word from him. So simple, so basic. Likely taken out of context, an inside joke or a tail end to the rest of an unheard story. 

But when he heard such a laugh for the first time from you and he was far from the cause of it. When he saw how much you actually talked with your hands and your face more than your words, how you spoke and spoke and spoke to your partner in those few moments more than you ever did to him. 

He felt it in his chest—muscle tearing open fiber by fiber. In his lungs that fill with smoke. And in his mind, the beast, snarling at him to take you away. 

And to what? back to him who could never make you do the same? to him who grates on your nerves? to him who is so difficult to remember, however more to love? 

His face is a mixture of anguish and disappointment, a storm raging behind his carmine eyes that focus on your face. Eyes that search yours for any confirmation, any indication that you want to go—leave. Because you should prefer ease, you should prefer comfort and security. 

While he can give you all of that, he can give you anything you wish for and all it takes is for you to say it out loud— it will always come with a cost. 

His life is danger. His being is monstrous. His love is scorching. 

Your cold boba-tea frozen hand is a balm to the world in his mind that alights itself in flames as you cradle his face. His hand comes up to hold yours, press it closer to his skin. He shuts his eyes, breathes in the scent of your wrist— pulse and perfume. “Do you wish more from me?” 

“Oh, Sylus.” you frown, quick to pull him down and plant a cold kiss on his cheek. A grumble escapes his throat as he leans into you, fully lets his head fall onto your shoulder. Closer, closer, closer. “No.”

“I want to claim all your laughter. Have my ears be the only one that hears it.” his words rumble in his chest, rough and aching—like it hurts him to admit.

His voice is reminiscent of a tremble of thunder, rattling stained windows of a cathedral; such power in a whisper.

“I want to be all you need. All you want.” he grounds out into your ear. Your knees buckle at the weight of his confession. He holds you to him by your waist, positioning you in a firm cage of his arms.

Outside, you are a picture of two bundled up lovers sharing an innocent embrace, caressed by the autumnal breeze. Seeking warmth in each other. 

But beyond appearances, you are a raft Sylus is desperately clinging to as he is cast out to an angry sea. Inside, he fights the battle between making sure you are his and being a reasonable, rational partner. 

He nuzzles his nose into your neck, uses your scent to keep himself from causing a scene or saying something that might scare you off more. He only wants to do right by you, only wants to be what you deserve. 

And he’s stronger than this petty jealousy that courses through his veins at the sight of you giving someone else a smile he wants to have too— like the morning sun he wants to usher into the darkness. He wants it, like a deprived child, he wants it to be mine, mine, mine.

“What did he say to you?” he asks plainly, resolve slipping from his fingers at the memory of your laughter. Growls it. Cringes as he says it, but his head is too filled with smoke that he can’t find his filter.

Your throat dries. His voice is entirely different now, a caving of the earth, lightning striking a tree open in a forest. For a moment, fear grips your heart, but it dissipates just as quickly as it comes when you see his eyes.

Red rubies, a diamond slit of obsidian right in their centers. His brows knit painfully together, like he’s warring with something. Holding it back and keeping it from attacking you. 

“Nothing.” you say, and immediately you know it’s the wrong answer.

He looks away. Not because he dislikes your answer, although he very much does, but because of the way you say it. 

Whispered, careful, guarded. 

Proving his fears to be true. How can he ask you to love a monster? He isn’t easy, he’s far from it, he can be meticulous and cold and absent—all of which you don’t deserve. It’s not a choice he’d make for you, so why would you choose him? 

“Nothing I can remember now, Sylus.” your voice cuts through his thoughts like bullet in cold air. He finds you catching his gaze, begging him to look back at you. Your fingers catch his chin, like he does to you so many times, and guide him back home. “Not now that I’m with you.” 

His heart swells thrice its size at your reassurance. At how your careful fingers remove his hat and brush away the matted down hair by his ears. How you kiss his cheeks, his nose, his mouth—uncaring of who might see or catch you. Uncaring of getting caught. So willing to show the world he is yours. 

How you see right through him. That despite his humiliating show of possession, you pinpoint its exact origins. 

“Tell me what you’re afraid of.” you’re so calm and he is filled with gratitude. You lead him to a nearby bench and he practically curls himself around you as you sit. His arm wounds around your shoulders, slips his knee beneath your thigh so your one leg dangles off of his, and his nose is buried back into the junction between your jaw and your throat. 

“I want you to be happy.” he says, hesitant. His mouth moves, opens like he needs to say more— but no other words follow. 

“I am happy.” you nudge him gently. “My boyfriend picked me up from work today, and he looked handsome in his new coat. And he gave me boba tea.” 

He snorts, fingers splaying out on yours as you begin to play with the ring on his middle. He’s keenly aware of the wind that blows your hair in your face, his other hand comes up to shield your eyes and hold some bundles back behind your ear. Painfully honest, he whispers, “I’ve never heard you laugh like that.”

You lean your cheek onto the top of his head. You feel his lungs draw breath, even and slow, but know his heart is racing. He seems to fixate on the ring you spin on his finger, brushing his thumb over the nail of yours as if to encourage you to keep doing it. 

Leaning deeper into his frustrations, you ask, “Does it sound different?” 

He snuffs, a dragon puffing smoke out his nostrils. “It was radiant.” he says, breaking your heart even more. 

You pause, scooting that little bit closer to him as the dimming sky turns the air into a nipping chill. You huddle close and lend him your undivided attention. 

“I hate that it was for someone else.” he confesses quietly. 

You brush his cheek. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t make me happy, sylus.” 

His eyes squeeze shut as you ask, “You’ve made me laugh plenty of times, my love, help me understand why this shook you so much?” 

You’re lost. After everything you’ve been through, all you’ve shared, you can’t help but feel the sting of distrust as he worries for your loyalty. And rarely is he like this, aside from the times he acts on his jealousy— pulling you close, making sure whoever tries his or her hand at claiming you knows who they would be up against by a press of his lips to your temple or a caress of his hardened fingers to the soft curve of your jaw. 

But the way he is now—genuinely upset, wary and at the verge of a quiet surrender he struggles not to make a show of—makes you mourn something that looms in the distance. What if he thinks you’ve but put a mask on before him? or does he not believe that who you are with him is the barest form of you there is? You believe firmly he does not think so little of you that you would prefer someone else over him, but… 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing to push his anxiety down. You’re relieved to see him so open to share, at least. Look forward to him bringing you some clarity. But you don’t expect clarity to come in the form of jagged shards of broken glass. 

“In the worst of my nightmares, there is one thing that truly petrifies me.” slowly, he takes your fingers in his and brings them up to his lips to cool them with his breath. thawing the freeze, keeping you comfortable. “And that’s when you look at me, turn and walk away.”

You hold your breath, because you’re sure that the next one you let out will usher with it the tears that burn behind your eyes. 

“When you see—truly see—the fiend I was. the monster I am.” he mutters, a muscle in his jaw feathering at how tightly he’s clenching his teeth. “How shameless and greedy I am—how proud I am to be. 

“And you, my dove. Beautiful, brilliant sun. Why burn to ashes when you can burn in light?” 

It’s silent.

Whether it was the cold or the tension, you don’t have time to figure it out before you’re trembling. Ribs rattling, muscles tensing. It is your turn to use him as a raft as you drown in his devotion. For now, you see—that as much as he loves you, he thinks he is poisoning you. Knowing that, his fears then lie there: that his poison has begun to spread and will be the cause of his loss of you. 

“Stupid.” you choke, squeezing your arms around his shoulders, pressing your tear-streaked face into his neck. Then, you laugh, grim and wet and raw—a laugh you yourself had never heard before. “Idiot dragon.” 

He wraps you in his coat and rubs circles on your lower back. The park has cleared, a single streetlamp illuminates the pair of you. There is no sound but the rustle of leaves and the thrumming of your hearts. 

“I burn where I want to.” you grit—not angrily, just through the uncontrollable rattling of your jaw. “I burn with you.” 

He stares. To say he was taken aback by your words would be an understatement. He is dizzy, knocked back and shattered into a wall. He could crumple at your feet, he could kiss you until you both see stars. 

“We were talking about some dumb lunch thing where another hunter took the last empanada right before his eyes and before he could cuss her out, it turned out to be the captain and I thought it was funny because it happened to me last week and now it’s all so trivial and it’s not even funny—“ you ramble, words stuttered and stumbling out of your mouth like a waterfall. explaining yourself, doing everything you think will soothe the earthquakes in his mind. 

As you speak, Sylus watches you with the softest of looks. wiping stray tears away with light fingers, brushing more of your hair back from your eyes, placing his palms over your cold cheeks, your frozen ears—you barely notice, too engrossed in telling him everything. Anything, really, to show him that he will always be ground zero. He will always be the only one ever to witness you as your purest self. 

and you doing so means worlds to him. 

“And this afternoon, Tara was supposed to—don’t, don’t kiss me! I have snot!” you shriek as he leans to press his warm lips to your freezing face. he chuckles as you scream, drawing you closer, closer, closer. Saying I don’t care with his actions as he kisses you anyway. Slow, warm and consuming. I love you.

And so easily, he forgets why he ever doubted you, feared you’d love him any less than what you already show him. When you so simply complete his day with your voice, when you so effortlessly choose to love him then and now. He places his heart back in your hands, unconscious how he’d clutched it tight in his, and feels the weightless joy you wash over him once more. 

He tucks your squeals into the chest of treasures in his mind, along with the atrocious laugh you gifted him as you called him stupid. Never mind the one you gave your hunting partner now, his is much better.

Your light is his to hold, keep and hoard for eternity—and you, yourself, offered it to him as you burn.

✧˚ ⋆�� more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

thank you so much for sending in this ask & for reading! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[awaxagoras]

giggling and kicking my feet at stalker phainon being somewhat canon (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

currently thinking abt phainon who is obsesseddddd w you ♡ [ fwb ? exes ? awkward situationship ? guy you don’t even know ? something else ? I can’t decide lol it’s up to u ] he has ur notifications on and watches ur story / likes ur posts literally seconds after u post them . doesn’t feel embarrassed abt it . likes every one of them regardless of what the post is abt — surely you’ll notice how he’s obviously flirting w you ! [ you don’t . it’s just a like button , phainon . . . ]

he’s kinda crazy . analyzing all of ur posts trying to decipher any sort of hidden meaning behind them . that song you just posted . . is it about him ? are u trying to tell him something ?[ it has nothing to do w him . it’s just a song ] he’s got the lyrics pulled up , just in case . even if there’s nothing behind it , at least he knows what music you like ! definitely brings it up casually [ it’s not really that casual . you weren’t even talking about music just now ] to impress you . you like the same bands ? no way ! you must be soulmates or something haha ( ˆ𐃷ˆ) [ you know it’s a joke , but why is he watching ur reaction so seriously ? ]

he knows wayyy too much about you . he tries to play it cool but every now and then he’ll make a comment abt something that you swear you’ve never told him [ that reference he just made was a coincidence , right ? you don’t remember telling him abt that . actually , you’re pretty sure you only mentioned it on your private account . . ] should you ask him abt it , he’ll just laugh and shrug it off . of course he knows that , silly ! you really don’t remember talking ? well . . . phainon is such a nice guy . yeah , he’s probably right . you probably did tell him at some point ┐(´～｀ˇ)┌ you’re overthinking it [ you aren’t ]

ultimate reply guy . finds a way to say something to all of ur posts , even if it makes him look a bit desperate . tries sooo hard to keep the conversation going . just one conversation with him clearly shows anyone that he has a natural way with words but when it comes to you , he feels as though he’s forgotten how to speak entirely ! you make him nervous ! (•́︿•̀) and this is just online ! you have no idea how hard his heart beats against his chest when you speak in person . sometimes , he thinks staying composed in front of you requires the same level of resolve as being a chyrsos heir

ehehehe if this is an exes au or if you’re simply on bad terms with him , [ t-that’s not true ! you’re just . . respecting each others space right now . that’s very normal for couples . . ! which you certainly are ! stop saying you don’t know him ] this doesn’t really do anything to stop him . go ahead , block him . at this point , he could probably make a burner account with his eyes closed (ᵕ—ᴗ—) it’s not very nice of you to block your boyfriend [ he isn’t your boyfriend ] but it’s okay , he understands . he could never truly be mad at you . if you want him to watch your stories and spam your notifications with likes from a blank account for now , that’s alright . he won’t take it personally [ he should . it is quite personal ]

you can try to call him out . you can tell him to stop bothering you and to just leave you alone . smiling at his phone even while you curse him out . you unblocked his first number just to text him ! he still has a chance ! (´｡• ◡ •｡`) ♡

[pokeberry5]

timmy in a5, a6, and c2 <3

i think it'd funny if every time the bafam needed something covered up in the media, they send a wayne to do a photoshoot. certainly easier than faking an attempted assassination.

[buttonheart]

Fashionistas

[technically-human]

Do they dance together during the dance break?

(your art is amazing and it makes me Happy 🩷 thanks for Sharing)

NO! but actually yes.

Stone is in charge of creating the playlists. Robotnik is busy, he can't be expected to waste time listening to NEW music and hoping to find something he doesn't hate. That's ridiculous! So it's Stone's job.

However, sometimes Robotnik is not entirely convinced of the new songs, and in those cases, he orders Stone to demonstrate just how is he supposed to dance to this.

Stone does, but he's not as good of a dancer as the Doctor is. So then, Robotnik is the one who has to show him how to properly do it. And they'll keep dancing to the same song until Stone gets it right.

(Stone was actually a terrible dancer when he started working for the Doctor. These days, he just does it wrong so Robotnik has something to complain about)

[jagalart]

Hue 16