#and i experience this bullshit and they expect me to still believe them when they say it

[autumnal-sapphic]

(to the no one who is reading this, when I say "love" i mean the weird mishmash of platonic qpr type feeling. not romantic.)

why do i have to have a fucking existential crisis every time she does something nice for someone else istg

my best friend says i'm her favorite person in the world. this is a poem about one of our other friends (it wasn't private they sent this to our friend group's discord server)

"The sweetest person I know

The one who always can make someone laugh.

And the one that puts other’s needs before their own, even when it hurts them.

The one who would do anything for the people they care about.

The one that’s absurdly talented and smart.

And most importantly, one of my favorite people in the entire world"

and i just. AGH.

they have never done anything like this for me. I hate the fact that it's so likely they're lying to me

and I also hate the fact that when they say these things to other people they say "one of my favorite people in the entire world". It's the allowance. It's like a vocabulary trick. a secret. It's only there because I have access to this. it makes everything feel less important. Its as though they're deceiving everyone, 'oh hehe you're one of but someone else is the' and it just makes the idea that i'm theoretically their favorite person seem stupid and fake

They're so so so important to me and I just feel like they don't feel the same way about me

they express the same feelings to other people but with small allowances that mean technically, in the meaning of the words, it's true, i might be "better". But the emotion it conveys is exactly the same even though the love I feel for her is so different than what I feel for my other friends.

and also just bluntly "the sweetest person I know" like okay. you know i'm here. you know i have self esteem issues yet despite the fact you treat me, honestly, worse than the other people in our friend group you expect me to honestly believe you when you say "you're my favorite person" and then go off and write fucking poems about how amazing our other friends are and do nothing of the sort for me

i just don't get it. fucking stop. please.

i don't want them to stop expressing love to other people. it just feels like i've been blatantly lied to when they do something like this. They only ever express their love for me every so often when they say bluntly "you are my favorite person" but when it comes to other people and this person specifically it's constant. it's so painfully clear that this person is "her favorite". and she's either lying to herself, or me, or both, and i can't decide which one hurts more

[nanaslutt]

choso with tongue piercing? >_<

hngh i need his tongue inside me :(

😝

Bestfriend!Choso X Reader :3

contains: fem reader, teasing, dirty talk, exhibitionism (they're in a car), sexual tension, oral (r!receiving), Choso’s first time giving head, slight jealousy, whipped!Choso & reader, first time receiving, reader has a bad track record w/ guys, mentions of bj, so soft & sweet

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"Holy fuck." You swallowed hard at the view in front of you. "My brother convinced me to get it done when he got some of his piercings, said it could be a bonding experience," Choso explained, putting his tongue decorated with the little silver ball back into his mouth. "Did it hurt?" You asked, your mind still reeling that he had hidden a tongue piercing from you for all these years.

"It wasn't horrible, I'm pretty good with pain. I don't really see the point in having it pierced though." He started to explain, "No one ever sees it, even I forget it's there sometimes." Choso finished. You just smiled and nodded, pretending to listen as he kept talking about his experience getting pierced.

You had already thought of 400 scenarios in which you would let choso put his tongue (and piercing) to work on your body, so the pain he went to to get the pretty jewelry wouldnt be in vain. One particular scenario stood out in your head of him tongue fucking you, feeling the metal against your clit and- "You okay?" Choso's voice rang in your ears.

"Huh?" You said, pulling yourself from your daydream. "I asked if you would ever get your tongue pierced and you just froze up." He explained, scrunching his eyebrows together. "Oh! Oh right! I uh, I'm pretty squeamish around needles so thinking about it makes me a little... nervous" You lied through your teeth, thanking the universe that he seemed to believe it.

For the rest of the day the two of you spent together, the only thing you could focus on was his piercing. Unbeknownst to you, he had caught you several times. Choso had purposely run his tongue over his lips to wet them, every so often, just to see your breath hitch when you got a glimpse of the silver.

As he was driving the two of you back to his house for a nightcap, some relaxing song playing in the background, you spoke up through the silence, "Thanks for today Choso! I know the night isn't over yet but the museum you took us to was so much fun, we have to go to the cafe inside next time!" you exclaimed. He turned his head away from the road to look at you, before returning his gaze on the dark street.

"I'm surprised you remembered there was a cafe." He said, a hint of teasing, and snarkiness hiding in his voice. "Huh?" You voiced, tilting your head at him in confusion. "You seemed out of it today." He elaborated, "Is there something going on?" He asked, keeping his voice and face fairly monotone. His question caught you off guard, had you really been acting that weird all day? So much so that he picked up on it? Oh god.

"No! No, I'm just a little tired today, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be weird." You forced out a laugh, once again coming up with a quick and hopefully believable lie. Unluckily for you, Choso saw right through it. "Are you sure? Because you were acting fine until I showed you my piercing." He said, hitting the nail right on the head.

You froze, not expecting him to be able to pinpoint the exact moment in the day you started behaving strangely, why was he so damn observant? "Oh.. really?" You said, no bullshit lies or excuses coming to your tongue, so you tried to laugh it off instead, saying something about a coincidence. "Did me sharing that make you uncomfortable?" He said, making you immediately reassure him that was absolutely not the case.

He turned the car onto your street, driving slowly down the dark path and towards your house. The two of you have been friends for the longest time, spending practically every second together any chance you got, so of course he knew the way to your house like the back of his hand.

"Oh my god no! No choso, really it's.. it's nothing.." You panicked slightly, not wanting him to feel bad for you being a perv and not being able to control yourself over a piercing. You sighed heavily, scrunching your face up as you seriously contemplated telling him what was really going on with you today.

No matter what you did you couldn't stop imagining your oblivious best friend's tongue between your legs, flicking your clit with his tongue and teasing the bud with the cold metal. You wanted to feel guilty you really did, but the vision was too delicious to feel any remorse.

"Does it turn you on?" He asked, pulling into your driveway and putting the car into part before he unbuckled himself and turned his body to face you. The expression on his face was unreadable, which made you nervous. Your face was heating up, and your mouth dropped open and closed like a fish out of water, trying to think of a response as your brain processed his unexpected words. You really didn't want your long-term secret crush on your best friend to be exposed like this.

"The piercing, does it turn you on?" He asked again, rephrasing his question. Oh god.. he was going to call you a perv and kick you out of the car, leaving you cold and alone in your own driveway if you said yes right? He would definitely think you were weird, who thinks about their best friend in that way?

You opted to shut your mouth, as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded as softly as you could, unsure of your own actions. He looked past you, scanning the outside around the two of you to make sure there were no witnesses before he spoke his next words. "Wanna find out why I actually got this piercing?" He asked, making your face turn a dark shade of crimson as you whispered out a needy, "Please.."

--

"Fuck- Ohmygod right there Choso- Fuck!" Your hands dug into his soft strands of hair as he ate you out like a man starved. He had you on your back in the backseat of the car, legs splayed out for him as he laid between them, feasting on your cunt. He flattened his tongue out against your clit, making sure the ball of the piercing was kissing the little bud before he shook his head back and forth, stimulating your clit against it.

It had happened so fast, he had leaned forward and pressed your lips together, asking if this was okay before he unbuckled your seatbelt while you were distracted, and somehow the two of you had ended up in the backseat. You weren't sure why he didn't just drag you inside but you couldn't lie that the thrill of doing something like this in the car was exciting.

Choso scissored his fingers in and out of you, abusing your g-spot with the pads of his digits as they curled up against it. His tongue was working you over so well, he drew his name over and over on your clit, occasionally sucking it into his warm mouth and humming around it, sending delicious vibrations through your cunt.

Choso had never told you about any of his sexual conquests, so you werent really sure what to expect in terms of how well he would do when he said he was going to eat you out. Now you were begining to think he had a side job as a porn star or something because his technique was unreal.

"H-how are you so fucking g-good mph!" You cut yourself off with a whine when he suckled your clit particularly hard, making your body jolt against him. Truthfully, Choso had never eaten anyone out before, but he most definitely had watched porn and practiced on his hand for the day he got the courage to ask you out.

He wasn't expecting the opportunity to fall into his lap this easily, so when he saw your eyes light up at his piercing, he internally thanked the gods that you caught a glimpse of it in the sun, which led to him revealing the jewelry to you.

Choso always paid the utmost attention to you, without you even knowing it. He knew what you liked and disliked, he even so much as knew every detail about your tone and facial expressions to make sure you were constantly pleased and comfortable, he always wanted the best for you after all.

He watched how people would break your heart and toss you aside like you were nothing, it alwasy made him furious. They were absolute idiots to give you up, he hated seeing you sad over some unemployed nobody who never really cared about you from the start. Althogh he hated them, he couldnt help but feel a little grateful for them. If it werent for them taking you for granted, you might be in a relationship still, and the two of you wouldnt be in his backseat right now.

Choso moaned against your core when your hands tightened in his hair, rolling his eyes at the feeling of your nails digging into his scalp. "Does it feel good?" He said back, knowing damn well your answer. "Yes, yes Choso, fuck!" You moaned, dropping your chin to watch him work between your thighs.

He was already looking at you when your eyes locked with his. His eyebrows scrunched together upon feeling your gaze, keeping his dark eyes on yours as he ate you out with more vigor, drinking in your body’s every reaction to his tongue. The vibrations from his deep groans were going to push you over the edge. "Choso- Choso I'm close," You whined, fighting your eyes from rolling back in your head so you could keep your eyes on his and watch him do his thing.

He was so unbelievably handsome like this, the streetlights casting beautiful shadows on his face, and his expression was so needy it made your heart skip a beat. The way his eyebrows mimicked your expressions whenever he did something that felt particularly good, was so hot, he was so attentive.

The man between your legs was feeling drunk. This was something he only dreamed of and it was actually happening. He felt like his cock was going to burst from just tasting you alone, but he would gladly make home between your thighs forever. "Please," He begged from between your legs, scrunching his eyebrows together as he ate you out with more vigor.

He released his fingers from your tight hole and opted to replace them with his tongue, pressing his face as tightly against you as he could to make sure his tongue was fucking inside you as deep as possible, making sure to lick his tongue upwards against your walls so you could feel his piercing inside you. His fingers came to rub little circles on your clit with expert precision, making your legs start to shake.

You dug your nails against his scalp as you humped your hips against his face, hearing his muffled moans encourage you from between your thighs. "Ohmygod Choso! I-I'm cumming-" You wined before you felt the knot start to unravel. Choso swore he almost came in his pants at how sensually you cried out his name, mentally recording it for later.

He kept up his ministrations on your pussy, drinking up everything you gave him as you came hard on his face, squishing his soft cheeks between your thighs. He was mesmerized as he watched your body shake and curl in on itself, he stared at your mouth as it dropped open and spilled out profanities and whines of his name, broken on your tongue. When your back relaxed against the seat of the car once more he slowed his fingers on your clit, careful to not overstimulate you.

"Holy f-fuck Choso." You whispered, leaving your hands in his hair and running them through your own, wiping the sweat from your forehead. You took a quick look around in the post haze of your orgasm and noticed how foggy the windows were, so much for trying not to be obvious; anyone with half a brain would know what was going on if they walked past your car.

After he made sure he licked you clean, he pulled his face back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, raising his body to sit comfortably on the seat as his other large hand came to caress your thigh soothingly. "Was that okay?" He asked, looking at you like a puppy.

"Okay?" You repeated, astonished he was asking as if he didn't just witness how hard you came, "I'm pretty sure that was the best orgasm I've ever had in my life." You laughed, making him smile at your words as your hand came down on top of his while he was petting your thigh. "Thank felt so good Choso, thank you." You said blushing as you closed your legs, noticing how exposed you were in comparison to him.

Of course, he picked up on this, he reached over to pick up your previously discarded panties from the floor of the car, wiping them off before he handed them, alone with your pants, to you. You said your thanks to him and he nodded shyly, a stark difference to how he was acting moments ago. It wasn't till you were almost finished getting dressed again when you noticed his massive boner. How did you not see it before? You felt so bad for letting him sit like that for god knows how long.

"Choso, you're hard." You said, stating the obvious. The man blushed and pulled his t-shirt over his hard-on to cover it. "Let me take care of it for you." You offered, leaning your body over his and placing your hands on his toned thighs, "I-Its okay-" His warm hands came down to grab your forearms, stopping you. "What? Really? It doesn't look okay," You giggled, looking up between your lashes at him.

Of course, he wanted you to get him off, that sounded perfect, but he needed to properly take care of you first. Your legs were still trembling and you were still out of breath, on top of that he could tell you were tired; that orgasm had taken a lot out of you, so he could wait. "Don't worry about me, I'll go down." He assured, rubbing his hands on your wrists soothingly and making you hum. "I still need to clean you up and make sure you're okay." He finished, making you blush. No man has ever said that to you before, and no man has ever eaten you out before tonight either but you wouldn't tell Choso that right now.

Truthfully, you were feeling tired, and the prospect of Choso cleaning you up didnt sound half bad right now, "Are you sure? It really wont take long." You offered one last time. He smiled and pushed your arms off of his thighs so he could leave the car, "Im sure, some other time." He said boldly, making you nod silently as he opened the car door and stepped out.

You started to do the same but his voice stopped you in your tracks, "Don't move." He ordered, so you didn't. It didn't take long after he shut his own door that he was opening yours, Choso now standing in front of you as he leaned inside the car and scooped you into his arms, making you giggle as he slammed the door behind him. "Choso! I can walk." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he held you in a princess carry.

"Don't wanna take any chances, your legs are still trembling pretty hard." He said, making you blush and want to hide away at his exposing words. "I think you're the sweetest man I'll ever know." You said to him, smiling at his blushing face as he quickly avoided his eyes with yours. He moved his hand to effortlessly type in your door code as he brought the both of you inside, away from the chilly air.

I better be, he wanted to say, but opted to only acknowledge your words with a hum as the front door clicked shut behind the both of you.

[akirathedramaqueen]

Only one person has the power to make Stolas cry

And I'll keep the intrigue just a little bit longer so you can try to guess for yourself and experience the kind of satisfaction I had once I pieced it all together. And, oh boy, did it click!

Okay, so today, after a rather passionate conversation with @tealvenetianmask about how fandom seems to perceive Stolas as overly emotional and soft demon, we started rummaging through all the scenes where Stolas actually cried. We were blown off by some revelations.

First note: it's actually not much. Our owl appears to be very sturdy and often bites back when attacked, rather than shutting down as one might expect.

Second note... Better let me show you. Let's walk through all the 'Stolas cries' scenes and see what is happening there, and answer the question, "What, or rather who, sets him off the rails?"

This is your last chance to place your bets and educated guesses. Because below are big clues, and, eventually, answer.

Circus

We follow up on Stolas shortly after the disastrous date at Ozzie's - arguably, a couple of hours later. He looks absolutely miserable. He has boozed himself to unconsciousness. His eyeliner is ruined from earlier tears. He groans, either from headache or emotional turmoil, grabs three Happy pills, and shoves them down his throat.

Whatever happened at this club ruined our bird, to the point he's looking for anything to avoid being alone with his thoughts.

Western Energy

One shed tear. That's all Stolas allows himself. That's what I am talking about when I claim he is actually very tough. He is being tortured, mutilated, and by this point, he has a pretty good understanding that his demise is likely inevitable.

And you know what he does in response? He talks back. He cuts through Striker's bullshit about royals taking everything from him and points out that his killer took a contract from a royal. He literally humiliates Striker with sex jokes and mocks his oversized dick on the statue ego. Figuratively, he spits death in its face.

The Full Moon

Stolas is destroyed.

This meeting was nerve-wracking even before it happened - all the preparation, insecurities, misunderstandings of the past, and lingering, terrifying questions (He loves me? He loves me not?).

It takes weeks to set everything in motion. He planned it meticulously. He scripted every word, every movement of his body, every subtle tone in his voice.

But he forgot that there was another party in this play. The party who was not given the script and is burdened with his own trauma. One shitty assumption, one poorly-thought-out action, and here it is - mockery, avoidance, a fight... and tears. His first meltdown he wasn't able to conceal.

His worst nighmares came true, or so he convinced himself. He loves me not.

Apology Tour

Our last stop on our 'we-love-being-tortured-by-crying-Stolas' tour is here.

The wound is still fresh, bleeding even, and here he comes, rubbing salt into it. Someone Stolas still desperately wants. Someone who was infinitely brash, rude, and aggressive just this morning. Someone who doubled down on statements that made Stolas believe this particular someone hates him.

That someone tries to talk. To explain. To apologize. Wonders how Stolas could actually care about him. Says the prince is better off without him.

Fuck... The prince came here to forget, to wipe that someone (okay, it's getting increasingly hard to pretend it's not obvious yet) from his memory, at least for the night, and he still won't let Stolas go.

He breaks into tears, crushed, reassured he can't have anyone who would hold him, who would say he is the only one, but recuperates shortly after - he was taught better than this.

Okay, are we ready for the shocker of the year?

It's Blitzø.

It was his date with Blitzø at Ozzie's, where he was ignored, humiliated, and was told that their relatioship was only about sex, and that he was the one who made it clear.

It was Blitzø turning down (or so he thought) his distress call, leading him to believe he was left alone to die.

It was Blitzø mocking his confession and assuming it was just a fucking roleplay.

Finally, it was Blitzø haunting him since that very morning and, albeit with better intentions, still hurting him beyond his abilities to recover.

The only person who tore his soul apart enough to break his inpenetrable mask - built up by decades of gritted teeth, restraint, and bravery - was the one he probably cares about the most.

It was not Octavia, whom he holds close to his heart but couldn’t allow to see him depressed. He had to be strong for her; he needed to raise and support her.

It was not Stella, whom he endured for years, yet did not satisfy her wish to see him whimper. He talked back, argued, ignored, and seethed. But he never gave in.

It was him. An imp who stole his grimoire and gave him the best time of his life, however sad that may sound.

Now, thanks for joining this drama in four acts. You may pull out your handkerchiefs and ugly cry right here, in your places. Don't hold it in.

Because I don't.

[klarolinexluv]

It really bothers me when people say stuff like “when people hate Peter but love Barty, Evan and Regulus.”

Like, I love Peter. Hogwarts era Peter. I have nothing against him. I don’t like the person Peter grows into.

I love Barty and Evan and Regulus. I also don’t like that Barty and Evan grow into Death Eaters.

BUT REGULUS?! I will NEVER hate that man. He made some terrible decisions but at the end of the day he tried to do good, he tried to help defeat Voldemort. I don’t care what anyone says, Regulus was given a bad lot in life and at the end of it, tried to be good.

Peter, Barty and Evan (WHO WE KNOW LITERALLY NOTHING ABOUT) these three characters have no character development (towards being good or better people.)

In my opinion, Regulus and Peter have opposite story’s. More so than people might think.

We have no idea how Peter grow up but as a fandom we have mostly agreed that his home life is kind and good (of course, some people believe his mum has expectations for him that he can’t quite live up to but that’s up to you.) He fell in with James, Sirius and Remus. He became a Gryffindor.

We have some idea how Regulus grew up. His home life was cruel and strict, oppressive. His mother had very set ideals and expected her children to act accordingly. From canon, or at least from Sirius’ POV, Regulus believed it all, he was as devoted as any death eater.

Peter, during Hogwarts, showed no signs of being or becoming a death eater. In actuality, we have no idea why he became one.

With Regulus, it’s the opposite. He showed every sign of believing in pureblood supremacy and later, a death eater.

It’s after Hogwarts where these things switch. Peter becomes an Order member and a death eater. He is a spy. He feeds Voldemort information and it gets his friends killed. We have no idea how he truely felt about this, only what Harry saw and thought.

After Hogwarts, (or even during, in 1979) Regulus defects. From what we know, it can be inferred that Sirius knew that Regulus was going to or was trying to leave the death eaters. We all know that he did, or at least he tried, he went against Voldemort in an attempt to make him mortal.

These characters, to me are opposites. Peter grew up surrounded by good and kindness and still he became a death eater and got his friends killed. Regulus grew up surrounded by cruelty and racism and all these bad things that came with being born into an abusive supremists household, and he chose to try and do the right thing in the end.

What we know is that both these characters changed, one for the better, one for worse. Really, we don’t know much about them and their experiences, what lead them to these positions.

Was Peter ever really good or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Was he afraid for his life and that’s why he did what he did, out of survival?

Did Regulus ever truely believe in the pureblood bullshit his parents and peers spewed? Was he a victim of circumstance? (Was Peter?) Why did Regulus choose to betray Voldemort? Was he always going to?

I fear I’ve gotten a little off track but that’s just my thoughts on the Peter and Regulus front.

With Barty. We know a bit about him. He was a good student. Smart. He was on his way to be exactly like his father. We know that he must have snapped and he joined the death eaters. We know he went on to be one of the worst. (This is just my knowledge of him, if I’m wrong please tell me) anyway- I don’t like the person Barty became but we don’t know anything about him at school so yes, I love Barty, I love him as a character. I don’t like the person he becomes but I still love his character.

Evan is different. We know next to nothing about him. We know he became a death eater, dueled Moody and then died. That’s literally all we know about him. So yes, I love Evan as a character, I don’t like that he became a death eater but I love what fanon has done to develop him.

Regulus. I’ve said what I’ve said about him. Nothing could ever change my opinion about him. He serves cunt.

Peter. We probably know the most about him but at the same time we don’t. He was a marauder, an order member (then ex order member) and a death eater. We don’t know his motivations, or reasons.

In fact we don’t know any of these four characters motivations or reasonings. Not really. We know what Harry thinks and what Sirius thinks, what Remus thinks. We know what Hermione and Ron think, what every other character that was close to Harry, what they think but we have no idea how Barty thinks, how Peter thinks, how Evan thinks or how Regulus thinks.

Which brings me to my final point, we know nothing about these characters or at least we know so LITTLE about them. Most of the fics I read are set at Hogwarts before all these characters have to make that life changing decision. And all the fics I read do these characters the justice I think they deserve.

So yes. I love Peter and Barty and Evan and Regulus. Yes I also hate them sometimes. These things don’t have to be mutually exclusive. All of these characters are complex and it’s okay to love them just as it’s okay to hate them.

THEY ARE FICTIONAL.

Thank you.

[ko-existing]

https://www.tumblr.com/ko-existing/766133693448372224/httpswwwtumblrcomko-existing7661320713789440?source=share

Ko, please, how do I stop being so desire driven? I’m not asking this as a lesson, but more like a genuine advice from person to person. I’m 100% this is what keeps me from truly seeing the bigger picture.

I tried many times to just let go and not care about outcomes or read the lessons thinking “yeah, this will make me get the things”, but I can’t. Even if I try to convince myself there’s something deep down saying I clearly still only care about the outcomes. It’s tiring not only because it keeps me walking in circles, but also because I experience episodes of pure joy cause “yes, I can get it, it’s easy” and then ones of pure depression thinking “this is bullshit, you’re understanding it all wrong and won’t get anything, deal with it. You’ll never get anything.” It’s always the extremes, you know? 08 or 80.

I tried to simply step back of everything and just move on with the knowledge I’ve got to see if my mind and thought process unfolds naturally and I stop feeling this incessant seeking for finally KNOWING true self instead of seeing as a belief, but I always end up falling on that depression phase and constant need for reassurance that “yes, you’ll get it”, but as you know, it never leads me to nowhere when I’m constantly reading, and asking, and seeking.

You say “step back and ponder” and say that when we encounter the silence it should be enough, but for me somehow is not and it frustrates me because logically should be enough, I mean, I’m literally being left with the nothingness, what else could I possibly need to understand, right?

I just wanna stop feeling limited, trapped and suffering and most importantly, I want to stop being the cause of all of this suffering. But I placed my desires as the ultimate happiness and this constant feeling of separation never goes away. Why is so simply to read and understand “everything is formless”, but when actually “practicing” and applying seems so absurd? God, I’ve been this way this whole year and I’m so sick of it.

To answer genuinely—you're thinking too much.

If you’re feeling caught in this cycle of extreme highs and lows, it might help to try sitting with your thoughts in a more observing way, which can give you a clearer view of what’s driving the whole process. And no, IT IS NOT A NECESSITY. It's a help to watch without getting lost in thoughts but it is NOT A MUST.

I've been on tumblr long enough to know what to expect from other anons reading this like "i thought meditation is not nevessary". No one is saying throw on an orange robe, head off to the himalayan mountains to sit on a rock in a cave, drink Bo cha, chew on Chülen, start fasting and chant " ཨོཾ་མ་ཎི་པདྨེ་ཧཱུྃ" (om mani padme hum) around the clock like it's your monastic lifestyle job.

So, again, I'm not saying this is a necessity or a “must-do”. Meditating, or simply Noticing, can help you see your thoughts without getting so wrapped up in each one—nothing more. There are different options like listening to a guided one or just background music/sounds like rain. I personally like it. So, If it helps, it helps. If it doesn't, see what does.

I've also been on Tumblr long enough to know how quickly people start labeling everything as a “method” or a requirement, so just to be clear again: I’m not saying any of that!

The main thing here is to relax this intense drive for outcomes. You can actually start looking at these desire-driven thoughts as just “passing content”—and yes, this practice can help. When a thought like “I need this outcome to be happy” pops up, instead of believing it automatically, you could take a step back and notice that it’s just a thought arising out of nowhere and passing into nowhere. Watching thoughts like this reminds you they don’t define you and have no reality to them.

Also, see if you can bring your attention back to what’s here without needing to grasp, judge, or chase. Every time you relax that urge for outcome, you’re giving yourself a chance to rest in something that isn’t tied to outcomes at all. " ".

Experience what’s beyond the cycle of “wanting” and “fearing.” Keep it simple, remember it’s a gentle, easy redirection rather than some heavy practice. Never force anything. If you don't want to do it, don't. And never overconsume.

[drdemonprince]

Hi! I remember you talking about doing shadow work (in a reply to an ask, I think); do you have any advice on how to start? Especially for someone who who has a really hard time with consistency/habits? Thanks!

For me it is not an intentional practice separate from my regular life, it is an orientation toward my own most negative thoughts/impulses/reactions. I do not believe that any thought is harmful or morally wrong to have, and so when I experience a thought that is violent, cruel, bitter, pathetic, prejudicial, short-tempered, jealous, whatever else, I accept it, and study it with curiosity rather than self-condemnation.

I notice patterns over time in what I am particularly un-evolved and unenlightened about. What hang ups do I have? What weird bullshit respectability politics or traditional gender norms do I still apply to myself or to others? Who do I fuckin hate and why?

Which of these things can I just kind of shrug at and accept as a feature of my programming and which ones do I see seriously holding back my life? That's probably the hardest part of shadow work for me. I'm very aware of a lot of my flaws and the things i'm irrationally emotionally reactive to and defensive about, but I get attached to my way of seeing things. It can be scary to become more open-minded and uncertain and less spiky. And some things just aren't easy to change even if I want them to. Part of shadow work means allowing oneself to be in an unfinished state.

Another part of it for me is accepting with a dark kind of gratitude that the world would be a pretty terrible place if everyone was like me. There is so much about humanity that I do not understand. I could never be a surgeon. I could never be a good parent. I could never be a social worker. There is so much I am so bad at. Maybe this is the Narcissism and Lack of Empathy talking, but I've had to really humble myself. I used to think I was so much more rational and less of a waster of time and resources than most people around me. Now I realize I have run on self-denial and repressed emotionality for a very long time and demanded that life have some Purpose when it doesn't. So a lot of my shadow work has been acknowledging my ultimate smallness and feebleness and just general uselessness -- i have a lot to be grateful to other people for doing, but also life has no purpose that needs to be fulfilled so i can just exist and suck for every single second that i'm alive if that's what i'm gonna do.

radical acceptance shit is definitely mixed in there, and some DBT kinda strategies. I've finally arrived at a place where I can love my dissatisfaction as a core part of me and accept that life is not meant to be happy and comfortable. we always keep moving, changing our environments to make them a little better, chasing after new passions and then getting disillusioned with them, falling in and out of love, getting lost. we're always lost. we're always making mistakes and being dumb as humans. that's like what we are. silly little freaks that make up lots of pretend games for fun but then get swept up in believing them too much. i kind of feel at peace now with the fact that i'll always be messy and impulsive and have weird beliefs and will change constantly and look back on my past with a cringe reaction every four or five years. i dont expect myself to ever arrive, because what the hell would that look like?? being satisfied and happy sure sounds a lot like being dead.

[blindmagdalena]

I went through your entire soulmate tag since it was brought it up and IT GOT ME THINKING ☝️ These two have such expectations for their soulmate, right?Homelander believes it’s not in the cards for him and she believes it’ll be someone she’s on the side of, right? So! It’s kinda like their raw beings are attached, not the parts of them that were influenced. She’s not the soulmate of some experiment, no, she’s the soulmate to the man underneath it all. IT’S SO RAW AHHHHH knowing they’ve been a part of one another at every stage of their lives, even at their worst (which is shocking considering what that man’s best is considered 😭)

yes YESSS you've dug down into the core of the reason i like soulmate AU's for homelander. the tragedy of who they could have been to one another without all the bullshit he's been choked by. being shocked by the revelation of his own humanity when it's revealed that yes, of COURSE he still has a soul! of course he's still just a man beneath it all! and yes, whatever his soul is made of, there's someone out there whose soul is just the same.

he's not a product, he's not a god, he's not a monster. he's just a scared boy that grew into a man who was never taught to be one.

for the reader in this story, i want to set up her motivation for joining the boys/going after Homelander to be that she was deeply in love with someone who died as nothing more than collateral damage to Homelander's general carelessness. soulmate au's are fucked up when you sit down to think about the greater implications for interpersonal relationships. imagine loving someone with your whole heart and knowing they love you, too, but they won't be with you in any meaningful way because the universe hasn't fated you to be together. i wanna dig into that complex. the resentment and the fear it would foster. have her be sooo hung up on this person who is gone, who was never going to choose her over the possibility of a "perfect" partner.

only to be horrified by the realization that the person who took them away is her person.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Heyy , i'm back🤭

Alright, getting to the point.

How would it be like Jeff and E.J. when I find out their y/n is a witch?

Oooh a witch! As a green "witch" myself i finally have a fic i can base off my own experiences 😈

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jeff the killer

He's kind of disrespectful with it tbh

Hes such a little shit omg

"Jeff! That moon water was supposed to last me the whole month!"

"I was thirsty, shit"

Well, at least he's cleansed now

He likes looking at your crystals

He especially likes the natural ores, like the big amethysts or flourite shards

His favorite is obsidian

He asks to help with your spells and rituals constantly

He's more into the whole blood sacrifice, baneful magic shit, so if that's not your practice, He's not as into it but he'll still be interested

If you ever wanna do something involving him, he'll most likely say yes

He'll let you cleanse him, He'll help you with gathering materials, etc

But he absolutely will not meditate with you

His adhd having ass will not be able to focus for that long

Sometimes you have to bullshit him a bit

For example, if he comes home super angry at another one of the creeps;lets say he's angry at Tim

He'll be super angry at tim and he'll ask you to curse Tim

Which you obviously cant do

And so you make up a silly spell, that satisfies Jeff's need for a curse, but doesn't actually do anything to tim

Also, don't keep any of your magical shit in his room because i promise you, it will get ruined

Eyeless Jack

He finds your practice interesting

Most of the time he simply lays back and watches you do your thing, silently taking mental notes here and there

He'd also be happy to buy you more supplies

More candles, more herbs, more crystals, all of it

He will buy all of it

He personally wouldn't want to take part in any of your practices though

It just kind of makes him uncomfy

He just likes looking

However, he does enjoy the scientific parts of it

Like how humans are 70% water, and since the moon controls the tides he understands the fact that people believe in moon phases affecting them

Or how crystals are proven to vibrate at different frequncies, giving them all different properties

He likes geeking out with those scientific thoughts

And he will hapilly rant about it with you till the sun comes up

He would also probably like to look in your books and journals, just to see what he can learn from them

He is a very naturally skeptical person, so expect him to occassionally point out things he thinks are stupid or wrong

But other than that he will enjoy reading through your notes and books

Insence makes him sneeze so be weary of that

And anything burning in general

He's got a very sensetive nose

[erme-aeterna-arts]

so i’m watching black sails, and i’ve been having thoughts about s1-s2 and why they feel different from each other and how it serves the narrative.

so, the first impression from s1 was that somebody lied to me and the show is just your average one. like you see the characters who act a certain way, but you can’t tell why the hell they are doing what they are doing. see, eleanor, flint, they say what they’re doing it for, but it’s not what actually drives them, as we discover later. but in the beginning it still feels shallower and simpler than it is. even the relationship between eleanor and vane seems to have a completely different power structure (at first, the viewer is lead to expect the usual toxic dynamic with vane as the abuser, but i’d argue that eleanor has always had all the power, whenever she was with him, she used it for her political ambitions). or ned low who we expect to be the villain of the season and then he’s very quickly decapitated (bc he isn’t not the true villain of the story). there are many examples, but the point is that the viewer in s1 (and partly in s2) is an outsider to the story, is making assumptions based on what we are used to seeing in media, on the expectations and tropes we all subconsciously know and naturally employ to interpret situations when lacking information and later hold these interpretations as the ultimate and indisputable truth. and then they start debunking all that. the viewer begins to learn the truth, begins to immerse into the story.

and this experience of the viewer is necessary to the following dismantlement of the idea of “civilization”. this is the word being thrown left and right in s2, and it’s no coincidence that right until miranda is dead even flint still wants, desperately, to make peace with it, to be a part of it. discourse is a power structure, it is desired, everything that is spoken exists within it and according to its logic, like the concepts of good and evil, men and monsters. and if in the beginning to flint the purpose was to somehow make himself, his family, nassau, worthy of being a part of it, he later realizes that this will never mean freedom, so he tries to build a world outside of the reach of the empires, outside of the discourse.

because that world was never going to accept flint, a queer man, even though we see in his face before miranda speaks up that he would go through with peter ashe’s plan to tell the whole truth. because that world never existed for us, and i relate so much to it, the entire season is the pinnacle of the queer experience.

to sum up, the parallel that is drawn here is that in both cases the viewer is reminded not to trust the expectations we have of the world, not to expect what seems to be the truth to actually be it, that what you are being told is all lies and bullshit. because when miranda says that nobody but her knows why flint is doing it [trying to destroy the fort], we should believe her; because when we see the flashbacks with james and her, we should not assume automatically that the affair is between them, as it was only stated as a fact by other people like eleanor’s father, because it was thomas that james was in love with, because it was all the “civilization” needed to destroy their lives, because we, the lgbtq+, have always been pushed aside, into the shadows, from which captain flint as a persona was born; because when they, the empire, claimed then that this persona is the essence of the person, they did so to excuse the damage they’d inflicted, to hide the fact that the pain brought into the world was caused by them.

* i’d like to add something about the idea of the western world as a discourse (i’m including imperialism, patriarchy, queerphobia here as the basis of the power structure, hence the generalization), in the show it’s not just the word “civilization” that is used, it’s also “reason”, “society”, “rationality” and so on, bc they belong to this discourse. a very illustrative scene is the negotiations between jack rackham and that captain about sharing the prize like “reasonable men”. where it turned out that reasonable ≠ fair, that it meant that the one with more power was to have everything, according to “reason”, and the other one to end up with nothing. it’s a detail, but everything is connected in this show and so fuck the discourse :) fuck the empire :)

[sainamoonshine]

Okay so I saw that @foxy-alien made art of a TLT house swap AU and it started me thinking about how I’d do a similar AU… I did that instead of sleeping last night btw.

So here’s what I have so far:

Ninth House: Ianthe, Corona and Babs. Once upon a time a woman and a baby fell on their planet. When they saw the woman’s red hair they thought “ugh what Third House bullshit is this” and while they kept the corpse, they sent the baby back. We don’t want this keep your trash. They have their own drama to deal with anyway; the tomb needs its keeper to be a necromancer. Corona, while officially the heir and Reverent Daughter, is not one. Ianthe and her started hiding her lack of talent before their parents explained the whole “unbroken chain of the tomb keeper’s necromantic bloodline” thing. So long as Ianthe is around, the twins expect that everything is still fine. Still, their house hovers on the edge of breaking a promise of ten thousand years once their parents die and Corona inherits the duties of the tomb… unless they find a way to make Corona a necromancer, either by turning her into a lyctor, by making Ianthe a lyctor and then Ianthe makes her necromantic (?), or they just straight up ask Jod for a boon.

Eight House: Abigail and Magnus. Everyone is surprised when they meet them, as they do not meet the traditional pattern of their house; especially when you know the fact that Abigail’s cavalier was supposed to be a cousin but was replaced by Magnus when he married Abigail — their blood type was, luckily (or unluckily?) compatible. Like, who the fuck would want to be an Eight House cavalier??? (Magnus would. He think going into the river is exciting. He also trusts his wife.) It’s usually only when Abigail starts actually doing necromancy that people remember she’s scary AF. Through her interest in ghosts, she has developed her own custom safeguards against Magnus getting possessed when she siphons him… or if he does get possessed, she is a quick and extremely brutal exorcist.

Seventh House: Palamedes and Camilla. Pal decided on his medicine focus due to his house’s propensity for weird necromantic cancer. He firmly believes that if he can just find a way to either stabilize or treat it, the inhabitants of the seventh house will live more comfortable lives. He is considered something of an heretic due to this, but house leadership is willing to ‘let him cook’ -> they’ll wait to see if a necromancer with a stable cancer is still powerful before they decide whether to censure his research or not.

Sixth House: Jeannemary and Isaac. They’re still young, but very good at getting into places they’re not supposed to be, particularly by breaking wards and then rebuilding them better. Both of them keep trying to apply into the cohort but the scholars of the Sixth see Isaac’s skills with wards and want him to pursue academia instead. When the summons to Canaan House came the council all looked at each other, remembered they still had to appoint a new master warden after the last one passed, figured that nobody wanted to abandon their current study/experiments to go participate to what would be sure to be a tedious dick measuring contest with the other house heirs, and decided to invoke an obscure emergency clause in a law book somewhere in order to appoint Isaac to the title. He and Jeannemary really were the only ones who actually wanted to go to Canaan.

Fifth House: Dulcinea and Protesilaus. It is a shame that her health is so poor, because she would otherwise have become a hell of an ruler. While she has an ease with history and academia, her true skill is diplomacy. Dulcinea can get a very accurate read on most people, and she knows how to use their own psychology against them to make them agree to her ideas. She looks nice and fragile, but she is cunning. Meanwhile, Protesilaus is surprisingly good at paperwork for a guy who looks like he eats skulls for breakfast.

Fourth House: Judith and Martha. This AU version of them is less cocksure, but just as proficient at gathering information, profiling people, and writing down ample notes. Their rank in the cohort is lower than in canon, and they often get assigned to the tasks nobody else wants. Such as: overseeing security on ships bringing prisoners to the Ninth House prison installation… and this is how Judith and Corona met.

Third House: Harrow and Gideon. Once upon a time, the Ninth House sent them an orphan they claimed was theirs. The King and Queen didn’t pay the mystery much mind and stuck the baby in an orphanage. They had their own troubles to deal with: the royal family had not been able to produce a necromantic heir yet, and the vassal families were closing in. They figured that they couldn’t let a lesser branch of the family inherit the Third; it had never been done, would discredit them in the eyes of the other Houses, and would cause political instability. So in order to ensure the necromantic potential of their latest vat baby experiment, the King and Queen sacrificed the children in one of the lesser orphanages. They claimed that an hull breach in the space station caused the poisonous air of the planet’s upper atmosphere to get inside the ventilation system… except there was one survivor. The King and Queen were weirded out by that seemingly unkillable toddler but public opinion was heavily positive towards the ‘miracle survivor’. Not to mention having at least one person survive the incident helps make the ‘it was an accident’ excuse sound more credible. So the King and Queen brought the child to the palace and decided to do some PR by giving her a place to live and an education, and eventually made her the Cavalier of their (powerful) new daughter.

Second House: Silas and Column. Duty-bound, fanatic, no fun allowed Silas is a bit young for military service, but that doesn’t stop him from climbing the ranks. Column is still used as a battery, even in this AU, except his role is to start killing people to produce the initial necromantic boom to give Silas something to work with when they deploy to new battlefields. He hates doing this btw.

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Thirty | Where It All Started…

Dom was close behind me when I pulled the blanket over my lap and patted down the seat for the remote. He hadn’t even been home enough to enjoy the theater room. I was shocked he knew where it was.

“I’m talking to you. I know what fucking sounds like.” He pushed the door open so hard it shook me.

Twisting the cap off the whine that was missing a glass from the bottle I drank from the bottle.

“I bet you do. Liv finally got a redo on that night, good for her.”

He stood beside me, holding his arms to his body and trying to stay composed when I knew all he wanted to do was yell. “I can’t believe you. All that bullshit about not hurting each other anymore. So you go fuck Randy in our fucking bed.”

Another swig from the bottle, “It’s not revenge when it’s moving on.”

“I’m not moving out. Good luck moving on while I’m down the hall.”

“I already fucked him, Dom, and you were right outside the door.” I kept my eyes down as they welled up and my vision blurred.

“Fuck you,” was all he said before he left me there to wallow in my own misery.

Two Months Later

Dom was on the road less but every Monday night he was still all over Liv. Only this time it wasn’t tension, it was experience under their belt.

Randy would text or call here and there but after my cold shoulder he got the message.

My phone was propped up against the vase full of flowers while I chopped some vegetables talking to Finn when I heard Dom’s voice. Every part of me seized up and my ear perked up while my cheeks flamed up pink.

Dom: God I fucking love you. Judgement day runs Raw. Let’s go celebrate.

Finn cleared his throat announcing he was on a call when he pulled the phone closer to his face. “Don’t mind that. They just won their tag match.”

I placed another pill on my tongue and washed it down with wine when Finn scolded them over his shoulder. “Keep it down for fucks sake.”

Dom: Who are you always FaceTiming anyways? Your wifey?

Finn: No, yours. Oh, wait, you never actually purposed.

I watched Dom close in on Finn and his phone bouncing around instead of focusing.

Dom: Excuse me? What the fuck did you say to me?

Finn: Go fuck Liv the way you have been. I’ll take care of wifey.

The phone dropped, going black and eventually hanging up but not part of me sudden stopped being tense.

I spent all day in a daze thinking of Dom and hurting like it reopened a wound that never truly healed. Two hours later and a half of bottle of wine later Finn called me back.

As soon as his face came into view I gasped at the black eye he was sporting. “Finn. Omg.”

“It’s better than it looks. I’ll be fine. We’ve got a few days off to heal before camera. How many today?”

It was the same question everyday, how many drinks or pills today.

Rolling my eyes I drank from the bottle in perfect view for him to see. “Less today than yesterday. I’m numb until I hear his voice. Normally I spiral after.”

“Is he gonna be there for break?” Finn asked like I ever got notice of when he would be occupying the guest room.

Dropping my robe I slide under the covers of my bed. “No idea, we avoid each other when he’s home anyways. Nothing like a separation without the space. I’m gonna sleep before I get past buzzed.”

“Tomorrow let’s try to not drink at all. Behave, call me if you need me. I’ll be on a 9 hours flight back home.”

Kissing the camera like I always did I dropped my phone on the pillow next to me and flicked the TV on to fall asleep to. It was something I got used to doing so no one would hear Dom and I. Now it was a habit I couldn’t break.

Drinking myself dizzy I rotted away in my bed not expecting my phone to ring when I glanced over at the contact picture of Dom and I kissing. Scoffing I put my phone on speaker not saying a word.

Dom’s voice came over the line more angry than I anticipated. “Are you home? I’m in my truck now.”

I responded sarcastic as fuck: No, I’m clubbing.

My giggles filled my stomach with butterflies when his malice voice sliced right through. “Are you fucking drunk?”

“Why do you care? We broke up. You fucked Liv, I fucked Randy. End of story.”

Abruptly ending the call I laughed even more at how emotional he was for someone who moved on already. Paying no mind to him being on his way I fell into my drunk routine of finding a video of Dom and I, touching myself and falling asleep.

Under the blankets I shimmed out of my shorts and teased myself while the video came alive. We were in his sports car his dad gifted him in high school, my phone camera catching it all, even his hand smoothing up my leg.

The video escalated to me blowing him before we both crawled into the back for a quickie.

Letting the covers fall away, I rubbed my clit more aggressively when I felt so out of breath that my chest would cave in. I heard the front door close but paid no mind to since we’ve been ignoring each other.

Mistake number one.

“Are you fucking Finn? How many people I know do you have to fuck?” I heard his voice before I saw him burst through my door.

My eyes peeled open, widening and my hands yanked the covers over me entirely. “Are you kidding me? We aren’t together, you can’t burst into my room.”

“Shit. Sorry. Are you… fuck.” He didn’t look away the way I expected when suddenly a less sober version of myself thought it was entertaining to keep rubbing my clit in small circles.

“Dom! Get out!” I shouted, my words jamming up in my mouth and the wine finally settling in.

Turning around he stood in our room he no longer occupied. “I’ve fucking seen every inch of you… turning around is pointless. We need some boundaries. Anyone I work with if off limits. He’s fucking married.”

“Finn? We’re best friends. Platonic. PG.” I scoffed back holding the blanket under my arms while the room spun lightly.

Turning around with his arms folded he starred at me from a few feet away. “I’m not stupid and it doesn’t change that he’s married.”

Getting on my knees, off balance, almost falling face first I tugged up my shorts and climbed onto the covers before reaching for my wine. Shoving it forward I offered Dom some when he snatched it out of my hand to take a gulp.

He is married but it didn’t stop me from crushing on him like he wasn’t.

“He’s on a flight to see his wife. I’m not stupid either.” After a long pause I broached the silence, “How’s it going with Liv?” I asked even though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

He sat down at the end of the bed, on the bench. “More work than personal.”

Dom’s eyes shifted to me looking for my reaction when he handed the bottle back. Taking a swig I felt the butterflies in my stomach roar awake and the buzz only got more freeing.

“Three questions. No avoiding. You answer or drink… and you’re already drunk babe.” He said it like it was a game but we bother knew better.

“Neither of us play games to lose…” I sat back against the headboard and I felt my nipples get hard.

He got comfortable, kicking his Nikes off, “What happened after Randy?”

“You mean you weren’t watching me kick him out? It ran its course.” I gave Dom practically nothing to work on when I realized I could ask him a question. “Are you using condoms at least?”

He smirked looking up at me from his phone, “when I remember.”

“Dominik.”

“I’ve never been good at remembering condoms. She’s on the pill.” His voice was like silk even though it felt like a knife. “What’s going on with Finn? Enough bullshit.”

Pushing the bottle up to my lips I drank to avoid answering altogether.

Dominik stood up, reaching out the bed and snatching the bottle out of my hand. “You better be fucking kidding.”

Leaning back into the mess of pillows he followed me, placing the bottle on the night stand table before boxing me in. Hovering above me his brown eyes felt haunted as my voice dropped lower between our bodies. “Why do you care? He’s my friend, I’m not sharing hotel rooms with him.”

“Not hotel rooms but what else are you sharing?” His body skimmed mine when my back arched at the thought of him being jealous. “He’s married. Not kind of married. He actually is.”

“We were practically married but it didn’t stop you from fucking Liv.” My hips squirmed under him when his hands clasped over my wrists, forcing them above my head.

His knees came closer and the back of my thighs pressed against his legs. I could feel myself get wet for him without trying. “How far is it going? You fucking him? You touching yourself while you think about him? Feelings? I know you’ve told him shit about us. Enough to use it as a weapon.”

“Sometimes it goes too far. Is that what you want to hear?” I paused watching his head drop and the anger spark. “We aren’t together anymore, Dom.”

“Watch it. I have to work with him while you beg to fuck him. I have to witness all the FaceTime calls like you’re his. Now I have to deal with it at Mania too? Real classy.” Dom removed himself from me entirely and the empty feeling it left felt unbearable.

I sat up, “I’m not going to apologize for moving on. He’s my friend, nothing more.”

“A friend who wants to clearly fuck you. Wake up.” I looked at him confused and convinced it was a one-sided crush when he continued. “We need boundaries. We need a way to co-exist.”

“Like condoms?” I retorted back with a bitchy to my voice. “Like using them so you don’t knock her up after I lost our baby?” Standing up I walked to the bathroom feeling the weight of the liquor drop through me as I focused on my steps.

I could see Dom behind me in the bathroom mirror. Pressing him crotch into my ass I felt my body hum at his touch and my mouth gasp. His hand delicately moved into my thin pajama shorts, his fingers tickling my folds, and forcing my hands to grip the sink.

“I wouldn’t do that. I know what you went through… twice.”

“Once to protect your dreams and once I failed our dreams.”

A long pause later he shifted attention, “Baby, look how wet you are.” I knew he wasn��t ready to talk about it. We had lost two babies and that weight crushed our broken moral compass again.

Holding my shorts against my pussy, the seam pressed into me and against my clit I looked down at the wet spot visible now.

“Dom, I can’t. We can’t. I’m never going to get over you if we do this.” I begged but his hand found their way back to my sensitive clit.

Kissing my neck his voice whispered, “One last time baby. It’s been months.”

I was trying so hard not to moan at loud at his touch when I felt two fingers push inside me. “Dom. We can’t do this… you’re with Liv now.”

“I can go call Liv or… we can have the goodbye we never got to have. One last time baby. I need you. It feels like all the times when I would come home from training camps, the urge I couldn’t control. The way I had to hold you down and fuck you.” Dom’s mouth move against my ear and sent chills down my spine.

I watched him lick me off his fingers only make more of a mess between my thighs. “It has to be the last time, Dom. It’s just a goodbye fuck.”

I twisted around, facing him, both of us staring at each other like so much came between us and now we were forced to miss each other. “One last time, baby.”

Lifting me up in his arms, my legs wrapped around him as we fell into our old bed. Dom landing on top of me quickly pushed down his pants down his hips until every inch of his hard cock caressed my thighs. Both breathing heavily, eyes locked, “Dom?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“We need a condom. I can’t get pregnant.”

His finger pushed the seam of my soak shorts to the side when I felt his guide his tip to my entrance. His fat tip sliding against my wetness and bumping my clit enough to force my grip on his arms to tighten.

“Hermosa, I’ll pull out. We did that for years. Don’t make me stop to find one. Please baby.”

My back arched and I felt every inch of him push inside me until my eyes closed. “Oh my god, Dom. Dominik.”

Hovering above me, all his weight in his hands, he started to fuck me and I felt like a mess. “That’s it, baby girl. Fuck. So goddamn tight.”

Our eyes locked again and my arms wrapped around his neck, forcing his face inches from mine. Without having to ask his mouth covered mine before we started making out.

Our tongues rolling against each other, Dom kept pushing every inch inside of me, picking up the pace and grunting into my mouth.

“Turn over baby. I wanna see it.”

I knew exactly what he meant when I turned over and pressed my ass into the air with his named tattooed in cursive.

Pushing back I rubbed my ass into his crotch and felt the sting of his slapping my ass. He knew a part of me would always be his, goodbye sex or not. He owned me.

But I never knew how much of him I owned.

Thrusting back inside of me he pressed his hips into my ass sending me closer to the edge. He was toying with me, making it last in a painful way.

Leaving me feeling empty between my legs he leaned against the headboard and waited for me to straddle his lap.

Pulling my tank off I crawled up to his lap and straddled him. His knuckles brushing my pussy as he guided himself inside me I gasped at the feeling once more.

Sitting on Dom’s lap I almost held my breath at how deep he was inside me. Still in his cut off shirt, my hands smoothed down his chest against the shirt material when I felt something hanging from his chain that wasn’t normally there.

“What’s that?” I asked with my eyebrows wrinkled and a gut feeling I wouldn’t like the answer.

Shaking his head he replied, “Nothing.” His hands grabbed my hips, pulling me forward on his lap in a way that had me gasp at the feeling.

Pulling his chair with the cross out of his shirt I saw an engagement ring hanging with it. My heart dropped thinking it was something for Liv.

Dominik’s head fell against the headboard and watched me finger the diamond ring. “Don’t get any ideas. It’s been yours.”

“This is a bad idea. We can’t have casual sex when nothing has ever been casual. Not since the day we met.”

His hands kept helping my hips ride him when he responded. “I fucked Liv one time. I haven’t moved on. I probably never will. You’re right, we’ve never been casual sex and just thinking of you catching feelings for Finn pushes me over the edge. Don’t take this from me baby. I need you.”

“You expect me to believe that? One time? Finn knows you share a hotel room.” He was pulsing inside of me and it was hard to get sentences out without needing to catch my breath.

“Just like that. Fuck. One time, the night you left after I kissed her. One time. You expect me to believe there’s no feelings for Finn?”

Dom let out a strained moan that skated down my spine, only making any decision to stop pointless now. “A crush. It’s just a crush. Why is this around your neck?”

“Same reason you’re calling it a crush, baby.” Dom started kissing my neck, muffling his moans when my phone vibrated against the bed.

Reaching for it to turn it off I saw it was Finn and my stomach turned. He is married, it’s just a crush, yet I felt like I was hurting him by riding Dom.

[livelovesimallways]

"Such A Thing"....Pt. 2

(Previous)

*after talking for a while* "As you can see, even though every experience is different, the willingness to meet and share aspects of their lives is what truly helps both parties. And again, you are the parents so you ultimately decide the route you want to take. We just strongly encourage openness as it helps adoptees cope. So if you have anymore questions, please don't hesitate to ask."

"I do have one...How was your experience reconnecting with your son?"

"Umm..." *lets out a deep sigh* "It was tough for both of us. If I could go back, I would have never chosen for it to be closed. I believe that's what hurt him the most. It fueled that feeling of abandonment and caused the question of why?"

"Wow, that hits close to home.” *shakes his head* “I get it now.”

*attempts to look sympathetic* “So your family never told you why she had to leave?"

"Nope. I don't know anything about her. Not even her name. It's interesting that you said she had to, I always assumed she just left. I guess this line of work changes the way you think."

"It does. Plus, these decisions don't come lightly. It didn't for me." *gets interrupted by a knock on the door*

"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt. I'm just checking in. Moses your wife had a list of questions. I'm sure I was being interviewed." *laughing* "So did Moriah help or?..."

"She definitely did."

"Oh good. I hope she told you all about her son as well. Their story is just so touching. She even has pictures from when he was a newborn until about three months old. Why don't you show him?"

“I’d rather not. Today was pretty heavy.”

“I happen to think it would help.” *stares at her* “You show everyone that comes through these doors. It’s always appreciated.”

“Okay.” *looks nervous as shit*

*Moses' silence speaks volumes*

"I can explain. Please let me explain. Janice can you give us a second?” *pleading*

*puts the picture down* "You should vet your employees more thoroughly. That baby she's holding…. is me. I have a similar one with just my father...Same outfit, same blanket, same balloons, same room."

"What???" *in shock* "Is he saying you're his birth mother?"

"Yes...but I can explain."

"Explain???" *turns to Moses* "I am so sorry for this, Mr. Muse. If I had any inclination, I would've..."

"Oh that's bullshit!" *cuts her off* "I told you there was a conflict of interest and you still pushed!"

"You're his damn birth mother! Nobody would ever assume that's what you meant! Then after that, you lied! You've been lying...for years!"

"I only lied to help other families. People tend to be more open when they can relate. I didn't hurt or hinder, it only made things better. No one would've ever expected him to come through these doors." *looks at Moses* "I am so sorry. I know you probably have questions. I really thought your family would have at least let you know something. I didn't want to leave, but my life at the time was very unstable. It was no place for a fifteen year old let alone a baby. I knew you would be safe with your dad, so when I was forced to move hours away, I left you with him. The next few years I thought of trying to reach out, but before I knew it, I was pregnant again. Miles died and I didn't want to complicate your life anymore so, I stopped. And look how you turned out? You have the life of your dreams."

"What about your family, Do they...?"

"My husband does but my children?...Absolutely not. Just like with you, it would've complicated things. Even with them being adults now."

"I guess you carved out a nice life for yourself as well." *smirking to hold back rage* "Well, look, I'm sure my wife is wondering what's taking so long." *gets up* "I'm gonna head out. We won't be coming back so you two take care."

To Be Continued........

[sprog-writes]

Soulmates AU but it's like this:

Just like in the real world, the idea of soulmates is just a myth. A story. A part of culture's folklore, but generally regarded to be some kind of romantic thing that's not actually real.

But after Simon gets rescued from the desert, after he wakes up in that coffin, after that brush with death, he starts seeing red threads connect people by their fingers.

He can touch them, sometimes, if he focuses enough. He thinks he's going crazy for a while. Having some kind of hallucinations.

So he does some research, he learns about the strings, and at first it does nothing to reassure him he's not going crazy. But then he finds a forum, a gruochat, something like that, with people recounting their own experiences with it. All with the same common denominator: they died, for a bit. And they didn't stay dead.

He doesn't visit the forum again after that. He still thinks it's bullshit. His eyes don't linger when he sees how a really entangled red line connects Price and Nik. He doesn't stare when he notices two practically invisible circles wrapped around two recruits pinkies, holding each other's fingers while they talk and they laugh.

And he avoids looking at his own hands like the plague. He tells himself he doesn't care. He tells himself it's not important. Not even when the other end of that thread is closer than he'd ever imagined. Not even when the hand it's connected to hits his shoulder.

He does cave, after a while. He spends some time in that forum. It's the only thing he can do not to actually go insane when it feels like his hand is being constantly pulled towards his Sergeant and him with it. Those people... At least they understand. There's a woman who was resucitated after a heart attack. She was declared dead for 2 minutes. When she woke up she thought the strings were because of something wrong with her eyes. When she went online, she couldn't help but stare and agonize about how the father of her children wasn't connected to her. They loved each other, but the universe didn't deem that enough, it seemed. It ended up ruining her marriage.

Some of the people there hated the string, just like her. Predestination doesn't match with everyone.

There's those that are hopeless romantics, who see this as the best thing to happen to them. That pass their days trying to follow the line.

Some others saw their "soulmates" as just their perfect match, but still believed you needed to put in the work to have a relationship.

Ghost doesn't know where he stands.

The more time he spends with Johnny, though, the more he understands how perfect he is for him. He's certainly disappointing some of the people in the forum, proving the universe, Destiny, whoever is responsible for it, right. But he can't help it, when everything that comes out of his Sargeant's mouth makes his eyes crinkle, when every quip and jab is met with equal responses, when seeing those blue eyes light up when he enters a room makes him want to be Simon again.

Price notices. In all the years he came back, Ghost has never been as obviously bothered by the strings as much as he is now. Not since he first thought they were hallucinations.

So, when he finds himself in the Captain's office, he expects some kind of reprimand. A well meaning question about his health.

Instead, he's met with, "Congratulations."

He blinks. "Pardon me?"

"Soap's a good lad. He's got his flaws, but who doesn't?" Price goes to light the cigar he'd been holding when Ghost walked in.

"... I don't follow, sir." He says, even though he knows exactly what Price is implying. He wants the Captain to stop pussyfooting and say it.

Price takes a drag of his cigar and blows the smoke out in a way that doesn't directly hit Ghost, even though it doesn't bother him anymore. "I don't care if you're dating or just fucking or what have you, Simon." He looks him in the eyes when he says his name. It leaves Ghost feeling prickly and oddly vulnerable. "But... You seem happier, lately."

"Fraternization -" the weak excuse he had started to pull out by instinct was interrupted by Price's laugh.

"Son, I couldn't give a single fuck. Look what we're doing here! Look at the people involved. No one cares as long as we get the job done." He chuckles again. And Ghost wants to tell him. He wants to explain about the threads, he wants to ask about Nik, he wants to spill all he feels for his- for Soap. Wants to go to his room, pull him out, kiss him in front of everyone, and intertwine their pinkies just like those rookies were, so that their fingers are so close that the string is barely visible.

But he doesn't. Instead, "There's nothing going on, sir," he tells Price, like a coward.

[auspicioustidings]

Can we get more about Price and rebel fighter!reader? I love them ❤️

You can get me trying my very hardest :')

Spitfire

Summary: Price's enemy is betrayed by her own soldiers and he finds he hates it.

Words: 2k

CWs: Terrorism, discussions of terrorist acts, torture (non-graphic, all happens off screen)

“Fuckin’ hell!”

How was this blasted woman so strong? She was pushing the tip of a knife down, trying to drive it into his throat, and he was barely holding her off. In his defence he had lost quite a bit of blood already in the fight, mean thing had stuck him in the leg. 

It was a sick sort of rescue. What he believed was her own people dragging her off of him and cuffing her as she fought wildly. He saw a look in her he hated. The look of someone being horribly betrayed by people they loved. 

He mostly expected he would meet his end here and decided he would go down at least being a bastard about it, finding some energy reserve to spring up and forward to tackle one of the men at the knees and take him down. There were too many of them and he didn't have a weapon, but he took pride knowing that he had definitely snapped something. Let's see the fucker run around playing terrorist with a ruined leg (many years later he would laugh about his line of thought as Alex Keller continued to be a menace with one leg gone below the knee).

They had him wrangled and pinned, a prisoner then. That was fine, they trained him to get himself out of captivity or at the very least to withstand it. The training failed for a moment when the crack of a backhand hit her and he could not contain his fury as he barked at them.

“Don't you fucking touch her!”

She met his eyes with furious shock before something smacked his temple and he blacked out.

-

Oh he felt awful. Waking up was a nauseating experience, definitely the aftereffects of a nasty concussion. Bastards. 

“About time. Hope your head is fucking banging.”

She was here then. He did a quick sitrep. His leg had been wrapped, so he wasn't bleeding out. One wrist was manacled to the wall of a bare cell. All in all not a terrible situation, he was still able bodied if a little banged up and the chain was long enough to provide a pretty wide arc of movement. 

She was hell to look at. She had fought, that much was clear from the black eye, swollen lip, torn clothing. The hand that wasn't manacled was mangled. It was difficult to see the full damage from where he was with her cradling it protectively in her lap so he slowly got to his feet and started towards her.

Her eyes followed him, calculating. As soon as she thought he was in range of her chain she pounced, tackling him to the ground and trying to strangle him before crying out in pain at the attempt to use her bad hand. It was easy for him to flip them, get her underneath him. She tried to grab his chain to use, probably to loop around his neck, but it was laughably easy to hold her wrists to the floor above her head with his hands and growl right in her face.

Fucking animal. Even now all she wanted was to murder him. It annoyed him how easily she was subdued in the attempt. This was far from the first scuffle he had been through with this particular terrorist, and not once had it been easy to escape with his life. She was not a creature to be broken like this.

“Will you fucking behave? You're not going to kill me with one hand, settle down and let me help.”

“Ha! Help? From one of the crowns army? What help could you give me Corporal? Your kind only knows how to harm, not to help” she spat back at him.

Christ, even now the fire in her hadn't dimmed at all. There was certainly hurt there, some new vulnerability he was unaccustomed to seeing in her, but the flame was no less bright because of it. 

“You really do believe your own bullshit don't you? We're only trying to stop your lot from destroying everything in your path.”

Her derisive laugh caused a prickle of molten hot annoyance to run through him. She always treated him like this, like he was so far beneath her. He had watched her once through a sniper in her element, with her people (it was the first time he had lied to his superiors, reporting that he couldn't get a good shot). Just her playing with a child, laughing and affectionate. She had been soft in that moment before her soldiers had interrupted and she had flipped to war mode. And war for what? Change? The way she chose to go about it was wrong.

“It's not us who straps bombs to innocents.”

Her stare felt like it was burning straight through him.

“It is you who shoots those innocents you care so much about through the eyes.”

He frowned. 

“What other choice is there?”

“There is always a choice. We send them asking for talks, say we will disarm them if we receive an agreement. It is always the same hypocrisy with you lot. When you make a choice to sacrifice an innocent for the greater good, it makes you a hero. When we make the same choice, it is criminal.”

He sighed in disgust and rolled off of her, both of them retreating to their own corner to sit and glower at one another. He always felt exhausted after any conversation he had with her. He was still fairly new to the army but he believed he was doing good. He believed the orders coming from the top must be well intentioned (honestly his future disdain for authority probably came from her, the mindset of one man's terrorist being another's freedom fighter certainly had).

After a spell of silence he spoke again.

“I'm a Sergeant now actually. Surprised your Intel didn't catch that.”

“It did, I just thought it would annoy you if I called you Corporal. Your kind seem very attached to these little names.”

There was a pause and then both of them were laughing. Laughing so hard it hurt. He could admit to himself that he felt a pang of horrible sadness when her laughter trailed off with a pained gasp. They had really done a number on her, he knew the pained noises of someone with cracked ribs. 

“Why did they…?”

Oh fuck. The way she curled ever so slightly, tried to make herself small. This woman had never tried to make herself small for anyone. They really had betrayed her then. 

“I made the mistake of thinking we were different from you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Tell me Corporal, are women allowed to serve beside you?”

He didn't answer because they both knew they couldn't, not in the SAS (in the future he would get rip roaring drunk in celebration when they lifted the ban on women being allowed to serve in any capacity a man could. Kate still had the voicemail he had drunkenly left her saved, finding it quite adorable to hear him talk about all the potential recruits for the SAS he had his eye on). 

He had maybe been a bit surprised that she was leading this organisation, but that was surprise that the men she led were amenable, not surprise that she was capable. He had accepted it quickly, treated her with the same respect he would treat any enemy. So someone in the organisation had gotten emasculated and poisoned her men against her. What a stupid fucking way for this bright and brilliant pain in the arse of a woman to get taken out.

“Bunch of muppets.”

Another lull in the conversation. 

“I do not know what they intend to do with you. I did not condone torture, but I cannot say I will be surprised if that policy has already changed.”

“Is that worry for me?”

“...I hope they take your favourite finger first.”

A half hour maybe, and then another little talk. 

“You use innocents but don't condone torture?”

“One of these methods can work, the other will not.”

“We have gotten plenty of men to talk.”

“As have I Corporal, the difference being I know they speak true because they have joined me after I have treated them with dignity and care.”

“Recruitment over torture?”

“I know it pains you British soldiers to refrain from hurting your prisoners, but I assure you it is the better tactic.”

She seemed uncomfortable as that made her look her over again, take note of the ever darkening marks that had been left. He wished the rest of them thought the same suddenly, not for himself. He had trained for torture, he would get through it. He could not stand the thought of it happening to her.

-

He couldn't stop it. When they came to drag her out he was already beaten and sore, a few fingernails missing. He still tried, still looked at her and tried to reassure her everything would be OK. 

It took a few weeks until the first time she let him touch her. Not that he would ever say it out loud because he valued his eyes, but it was like looking after a feral kitten. He had to be slow with his movements, assure her with telling her what he was doing, be quick to dodge if she took a swipe at him. He had convinced a guard to at least give them a first aid supplies if they wanted them to last, and he cleaned her up as best he could. 

Another week went by and after he was tossed back into the cell she crawled over to him and repaid the favour. He called her Spitfire and she had pushed down on one of his bruises in warning. That only meant he used it more.

He wasn't sure how long it was, maybe a few months? But it was her who came to him in the night in the end. Her that curled up in his arms so they could speak in whispers, make some sort of plan for getting out alive. Only she never did move away once they stopped plotting and drifted off to sleep, opting to remain right where she was. Right where Price was rapidly realising she belonged. 

-

It took an incredible amount of luck to have the plan work. Well technically the plan went to shit in the first stages and they had completely improvised. They should really be dead, they would be if not for the absolute divine intervention of some rookie stumbling across them and firing at their pursuers, cleverly darting from angle to angle to make it look like a full army rather than one man. The stupid skull mask helped Price supposed, freaked people out (they never told Johnny or Kyle about it because it drove them wild never being told how they had met).

She laughed and it sounded wonderful. He suspected it would be a while until he heard it again so he savoured it.

“Well it was, unbelievably, nice working with you” he said, holding a hand out.

“I will only ever admit this once, but it was nice working with you too Sergeant” she answered, putting her hand in his.

Price was glad that the rookie had understood the assignment when he had tapped the zip ties on his hip earlier. Her shock at her wrists being swiftly locked together lasted for a few seconds before she screeched at him, trying to take him down.  

He'd make her laugh again eventually. He was sure of it. 

“Come on Spitfire, think we both need a trip to medical and a long bath.”

[infiniteeight8]

Ironstrange prompt: reincarnation or isekai?

I went with reincarnation because, considering everything Tony and Stephen have been through, isekai felt a bit like Just Another Tuesday. LOL. Although maybe if I could think of a different enough world, maybe with another version of them in it to meet… hmmm…

Well, reincarnation this time.

-

Tony spent most of his life assuming that reincarnation was bullshit. He also spent most of his life believing that magic was bullshit, and now he’s met what feels like half a dozen wizards of one type or another. Most of them he avoids as much as he can, no matter how often he’s told they’ve “changed”.

But Stephen… 

From the moment they meet, Stephen feels familiar. Tony finds himself trusting him despite the fact that he’s a wizard. Despite the fact that he’s a stranger. Despite the fact that experience has taught Tony that other heroes are only going to abandon him, one way or another. Despite all of that, being around Stephen feels like being around Rhodey. Solid, like there’s years of trust and history there. 

It niggles at him until he bursts into the Sanctum one day and, finding Stephen in the library, says, “Okay, level with me. Did we know each other in another life or what?”

Stephen almost drops the book he’d been taking off a shelf. He turns and stares at Tony. “How did you know?”

Vindication rushes through Tony. “Gut feeling,” he says smugly. “So? What were we to each other?”

“If I tell you—” he starts.

“It might not happen?” Tony finishes. “Bullshit. Besides, that reaction already tells me we were probably lovers.”

Stephen actually looks flustered now, which is kind of awesome because he’s normally as cool as a cucumber. “I don’t expect anything,” he says. “Our past lives don’t have to define this one.” He drops his gaze to the book he’s holding, his shoulders slumping slightly.

Tony sighs. Stephen is a thinker, like Tony is. But where Tony jumps six or seven steps ahead and sometimes regrets it, Stephen follows every little twist and turn and sometimes gets lost there. “You’ve got it all mixed up in your head, don’t you?” Tony says. “Here. Let me simplify things.”

He pulls Stephen into a kiss. The book falls with a thump and Stephen’s arms are sliding around him, his lips parting for a deeper caress. Tony can feel their hearts pounding in sync. This kiss feels right in a way that nothing ever has before.

When they part, Stephen smiles at him. “Somehow, despite all our previous lives, you still surprise me.”

Tony chuckles. “Well, a cheat sheet only gets you so far,” he says. “Previous work is there to be built upon.”

“We best get started, then,” Stephen murmurs, and pulls him into another kiss.

-

Me starting: This one is going to be under 300 words! I can feel it!

Me finishing: Whoops…

[yggdraseed]

Thinking About the Itadori Family

Spoilers for Jujutsu Kaisen. Reader beware, you're in for a scare!

I find Kenjaku a fascinating character in a lot of different ways. There's always a game being played and a lie being told, and yet there's still this damp, flickering spark of humanity under all the theatrics, bullshit, and centuries of accumulated junk.

When Kenjaku escorted Itadori's former classmate from aeons ago back in chapter one out of the Sendai Colony, there was this really interesting softness they display nowhere else. Gone is all the pretense of mocking others and keeping secrets... perhaps because they knew most of it would be forgotten, as dreams often are. But it seems like Kenjaku may have given away some deep insight into the nature of sorcery by casually mentioning the "Cursed Realm" - which has never, to my knowledge, been mentioned before or since. Not only that, but Kenjaku tells her something truly shocking:

"Thank you for getting along with my son."

Like, you can see how weird this is, right? Face to face with Yuji, Kenjaku says, "I expect great things from you." Talking with Choso while Yuji isn't in the room, Kenjaku talks about him like some object; a mere vessel, the eye of the storm for the age to come. Talking with a non-sorcerer teenage girl who's unlikely to remember much, if any of the conversation, Kenjaku accepts Yuji as their son and expresses gratitude that she was kind to him.

So, is this a "Who we are in the dark" moment of honesty? Is this the consequence of Kenjaku being a composite of all these different personalities bubbling to the surface at different times? It's really, really hard to say. But I like the idea that somewhere at the bottom of it all, there is genuine love, if misguided in its expression. That's what I want to run with.

Personally, I've seen theories that Kenjaku duped Jin, or somehow used sorcery to enthrall him, or that Jin simply went insane before or after Kaori died and wasn't in his right mind. I think those are all possible, and they're more straightforward answers. But I want to get off the road and into the woods and see where I end up.

What if Jin knew? What if a pact was made to try to bring Kaori back, and even when the person who came back wasn't Kaori, Jin was still grateful? What if Jin was just grateful to get to see Kaori smile one last time, to get to hear her voice one last time, even if he knew in his heart it couldn't be the same ever again? Just like when Yaga brought Takeru back as a cursed corpse for Kusakabe's sister, so she could hear her son's voice and hug some part of him one last time.

And what if genuine love grew out of that gratitude? What if seeing this acceptance and kindness in Jin, of having someone give gratitude and a wish to be by Kenjaku's side, started to morph and change who Kenjaku was without them realizing the full ramifications of that at first?

What if that ache for a family, for a place to belong, for some connection to other human beings, has carved itself open inside this nomad of flesh and time? Journeying across a thousand years and potentially dozens of bodies, duping themselves into thinking they only cared about their grand experiment, only to narrowly dodge getting ensnared by their human heart and spending all this time since then trying to ignore their own humanity?

I still have a feeling Kenjaku isn't quite dead yet, and I want to believe a change that was started by Jin will have been finished by Takaba. With Kenjaku realizing they do want other people, that they do want to see human potential, not the potential of this mad experiment. And that they'll now be gunning to change the outcome of the Merger, in whatever way is possible.

Though I think this is probably just me spinning my own theories out into something that doesn't even resemble GeGe's plan. But hey! Each theory I make that's proven untrue by the author is an idea I can use in my own writing for free.