#conscious here meaning aware without thoughts and feelings

[voidfeather]

two of my OCs, i'll probably change how they look in the future but this is the gist of it

i haven't decided on a name yet but not-Gumi got stabbed and the weeb cowboy got revenge

not-Gumi is a conscious robot while the weeb is a sapient one, the weeb is infatuated with not-Gumi while not-Gumi just thinks he's her owner, the difference in level of sapience here is due to a past war they had nothing to do with

also due to a fantasy virus they can both use magic that's vaguely based on playing card suits

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 5: Night Out

You find yourself squeezed into the center of a round corner booth, Johnny to your left and Kyle to your right with John beside him. The bar is relatively quiet, even for a Saturday night. It is early, though. Plenty of time left in the night for more people to file in. Apparently they go out drinking every third week of the month, a day set aside for them to be together and celebrate another month of success. It’s sweet that they invited you, if not a little nerve wracking - you’re not exactly sure how much they plan on drinking and you’ve been known to be rather… sloppy after one too many.

You nervously adjust your top while Johnny yaps about the equipment sales person with the incredible ass. It’s hard not to squirm being packed in between them, hyper aware of the width of your hips and the size of your arms as they squish against far more toned, muscular limbs. A mean itch in the back of your mind lectures you about taking up too much space - about inconveniencing the people around you. About the optics of the pitiable fat girl tolerated by the handsome men around her.

An elbow to your arm finally knocks you out of your daze. “Och! There he is!”

You blink, following Johnny’s gaze to the man climbing into the booth beside him. It takes your brain a moment to catch up, processing the person in front of you. Your eyes turn to saucers as you realize it’s Simon - signature tattoos, piercings and all - just without his usual surgical mask. It shouldn’t make that much a difference, he still has that low brow and big dark eyes that slide over to you and make your stomach flip…but now you get the addition of his crooked nose, broken more than once and not set right, a small cleft scar leading down to a part of pretty, pink lips that quirk up in the corners when he catches you staring. A few scars scattered across his sharp jaw you hadn’t noticed before and a light layer of blonde stubble around each engraving on his face.

“You’re pretty!?” You gasp, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. You bury your face in your hands while the others (Johnny) burst out in a fit of laughter. Simon’s shoulders shake in that signature, barely audible chuckle as he settles into the booth. Suddenly you feel a little less self conscious about the amount of space you take up in comparison.

John orders a round for everyone. Some light mixers to sip while you talk. You stick to listening, mostly, while the boys talk shop. You pick up a few personal tidbits here and there - specifically about Simon’s apparent sweet tooth as Johnny teases him about going through an entire package of licorice in one sitting. You file that away for later. Apparently John got his start after he enlisted in the military and got several very shitty tattoos during the first couple of years. Dropped out to get an apprenticeship, figuring he could do better. Kyle rolls his eyes, as if he’d heard the tale a few too many times.

“Where ye thinkin’ of lettin’ Kyle ink ye?” Johnny leans in close, breaking out of the group conversation.

You tilit your head. “Haven’t really thought about it. Wherever he’s comfortable, I guess.”

“Givin’ him free reign? Tha’s dangerous, bonnie. Might put it somewhere scandalous.”

“Wouldn’t be the first.” You blurt, regretting it immediately when you see that impish sparkle in his eye.

Johnny dips closer to you, shoulder pressing against yours. “Oh? Thought ye were a good girl, hen.”

“I’ve got a couple you haven’t, and will never get close enough to see, MacTavish.” You laugh.

“Is tha’ a challenge?” He grins, hand just barely ghosting over your thigh.

You shrug, face hot. ”Even if it was, you’d lose.”

There’s probably something deeply wrong with flirting with your coworkers while your boss sits a foot away, but your skin is too warm and your drink tastes to good for you to focus on that fleeing thought for long.

“From the gentleman at the bar.” A woman appears in front of your table, sliding a glass of pink cocktail toward you.

You stare at it before glancing up to meet a pair of dark eyes. He’s handsome, smiles and nods before going back to his own drink. Something cold runs down your spine, the bar warping for only a second. Your lip catches between your teeth before you push it away.

“That’s bold.” John scoffs, a twitch in his brow.

“Not gonnae take a free drink, bon?” Johnny teases, batting at your arm. “He’s no’ half bad lookin’. I’d take a bite.”

“I don’t take drinks from strange men.” You snap, a little harsher than you meant as you push the glass even further. “You can have it if you want.”

There’s a beat where you keep your eyes square on the table, waiting for an insistence that you take it, that you talk to him, that you just do what he wants because he seems nice enough. That you’ve ruined the mood by being sensitive, like you always do. Instead, Johnny grabs the glass and downs whatever fruity cocktail was inside.

“Alright, if I pass out ye have t’ carry me now.” He laughs, the conversation returning to the same pace as before. You just look up at him for a moment - his eyes bright and unwavering.

The more you’re with them, the more guilt you feel for doubting them in moments like this - but, equally, the more unreal they seem. Too perfect of men for you to have stumbled across. Too good for something as damaged as you. There’s a pang of loneliness at the thought.

You’re one again pulled from your thoughts - well, redirected, more like - when John’s arm comes to rest around the back of the booth behind Kyle, fingers brushing against your shoulder ever so slightly. You’d been noticing it more recently - John’s tendency to hover. He doesn’t cling like Johnny but he stays just a hair away. Fingers ghost over your arms and a hand hovers over your back. Sometimes he holds the back of your seat, leaning over you while looking at the appointment book, that wafting scent of leather and petrichor enveloping you.

He doesn’t look at you, talking across the table to Simon about some business thing. At least you think, you really hadn’t been listening. Maybe you should have.

“We should go check out that new place up the street.” Kyle announces, scrolling through his phone. “They’ve got great room for dancin’, apparently.”

“Is dancin’ the mood for the night?” Simon sighs, tilting his head forward. Even without the mask his expression remains placid. Difficult to read.

“Aye!” Johnny wraps an arm firmly around your shoulders. “We’ve got t’ take our little lass out on the town!”

You scoff, cheeks warming at the idea that you’re theirs. Their lass - their girl. Fuck that last drink really good to you, huh?

Johnny walks with an arm sling around Kyle’s waist ahead of you, John laughing and shaking his head at them. Simon hangs back a bit as you walk, taking small, slow steps to stay beside you with his hands in his pockets. The same as when he walks you home every night you close together. You silently revel in the safety of it - of having this massive man in your shadow to block out everything else. You risk glancing up at his face - so new to you despite knowing each other for weeks. His skin glows in the passing street lights.

So not fair that he’s been hiding lips that kissable.

That’s totally the drinks talking.

“Y’alright?” He murmurs, glancing down at you.

You jump a bit, not realizing you’d been staring, eyes wide and hazy. Since when we’re you such a lightweight? “Yeah.”

“Still bothered about that guy?”

You blink. In all honesty, you’d completely forgotten him. Too busy enjoying your time with your boys. Your boys. Your boys. Their girl. That feels really good.

“No.” You shake your head and grin. “Sorry for being weird about it.”

“Y’weren’t.” Simon shakes his head solemnly, lapsing into a comfortable silence as you walk. It’s made up for by Johnny’s forceful cover of Pink Pony Club.

The place is packed when you get there, Simon having to use his bulky form to push through and secure you all a standing table. Not that you really need it, it’s mostly so the four of you can do a few shots - as per Johnny and Kyle’s insistence. Yours too, but it’s more fun to use them as an excuse to down two green tea shots back to back. You’ve never been good at saying no anyway.

“C’mon, luv.” Kyle herds you toward the dance floor and you follow, not unaware of Johnny right at your back. Your head buzzes, the world feeling loose and slow and comfortable around you. That wall you might otherwise have up long gone as you’re safely pinned between two of your favorite boys.

Kyle’s hands trail down your sides to knead at your hips, guiding them to move in tandem with his. Johnny presses closer to your front, hooking your arms up around his neck. If you were any more sober, you might have thought twice about the way you grind back against Kyle and press your chest into Johnny - your coworkers - but as it stands you couldn’t care less. Your body buzzes with a comfortable warmth, the music seems to course through your veins. It’s so easy to let them guide you, to melt into them, to tilt your head back onto Kyle’s chest and grin up at Johnny’s big blue eyes.

It’s the loosest you’ve felt in a long, long time

Johnny says something you can’t hear, his head ducking and lips grazing the shell of your ear. A touch starved part of you wants to whine, to throw yourself into him and burrow into his chest. Bury yourself right between his ribs - surely it’s warm in there. The very sun itself housed where his heart should be.

Maybe you’re reaching the water-only time of the night.

You tilt your head, half-lidded eyes making contact with Simon’s. They’re boring into you, seemingly memorizing the way you three move against each other. Each step and sway stored away for future reference. Surely it’s in your imagination.

Eventually, you shuffle around - trading yourself for Kyle as John’s big hands come to rest respectfully on your waist. The music slows a bit, at least, making it easier to dance with your boss without feeling like you’re crossing a boundary. Not that you would mind crossing that boundary. You’d leap over it if you could - those pretty blue eyes smiling down at you in the multicolor bar light. Leather and petrichor fill your nose. There’s a spice to it that isn’t usually there. Your drunkenness sets your fingers alight as they trace up his strong arms to rest on his shoulders.

“Glad y’came tonight, dove.” John says, barely having to shout over the music. His voice just has that commanding timber to it that makes itself heard no matter the circumstance.

You give him a crooked grin. “Me too.”

John just hums, swaying you carefully. People don’t do this, a small part of you thinks. Don’t dance with their bosses. You look down to where you’re pressed together. It feels good, though. You wonder if you’re more to him than an employee - if he considers you a friend despite your inequalities of age and rank.

“Is it silly to say that I’m really happy?” You mutter, not expecting John to hear over the music.

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, dipping lower so you can hear him more clearly. “I’m very grateful that we get to have you.”

Somehow your face gets hotter and in an attempt to calm down you glance over his shoulder to where Simon still stands, leaned against the wall with a glass in hand. His eyes rake over the crowd, sometimes resting on Johnny and Kyle, sometimes you and John, sometimes they seem to just look off into the distance. A woman walks up to him. She’s pretty. Tall with dark hair. You can’t see her face - can’t tell what she says. A slimy, nosy little part of you doesn't like it, despite having no right to an opinion. Simon’s expression remains flat as he responds and she stomps away.

You turn back to John. “Does Simon not dance?”

John chuckles. “Rarely.”

You pout. “I hate that he’s all alone.”

“He’s fine, love. Promise.”

“I’m gonna ask him.”

“Good luck.” John laughs, letting you push your way out of the crowd as the current song comes to an end.

“Si!” You call loudly over the music, movements sloppy.

“Hm?” He cocks a brow.

You lock your hands around his wrist like a child trying to pull their parent toward some bright thing that caught their eye. He doesn’t pull away like a more sober you might expect. “Come dance with me!”

“I don’t dance.” He scoffs.

“Please?” You beg, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. Not nearly as effective as Johnny’s but they’ll have to do.

“No.” Even in your drunken state you notice the corner of his mouth quirk up before he forces it back down.

“You can’t stand over here all night!”

“Watch me.” Simon huffs.

You pout and let your fingers drift over his forearm, all muscle and so very vascular. His skin is warm under your hands, the ridges of scars dancing across the pads of your fingers - invisible to the eye under his tattoos.

“Well, then, I’ll just have to do what you like to do!” You say with a discerning nod, clambering up onto the stool at the table beside him.

He frowns. “Don’t let me take you away-“

“I don’t wanna leave you alone!” You continue to pout, the cotton in your head only making things fuzzier outside of your new single minded goal: Hang Out with Simon.

He looks you over for a moment, something passing through those dark eyes of his. They’re so mysterious - so deep. Like the Mariana Trench. That’s the really big one, right?

Simon sighs and downs the last of whatever golden drink was in his glass, setting it on the table beside you. “Fine. I’ll give you one song.”

You’re practically preening as you pull him into the crowd, hand firmly around his thick wrist. Part of you briefly acknowledges a few jabs from Johnny and Kyle as you pass them on their way toward the bar.

A squeak escapes you as Simon suddenly turns you around, pulling you close and leading you to the beat. He’s good. Weirdly good. You feel a bit like a floundering fish all of a sudden. It definitely doesn’t help that you’re a lot more drunk than you felt five minutes ago. He smells like spice, too.

“So much for can’t dance!” You laugh.

“I said I don’t dance, bird. Nothin’ about can’t.” An arm loops around your waist, suddenly twisting to dip you low - holding your weight so easily. You fall into a giggling fit, face hot as you playfully push at his chest.

As the night goes on, things get fuzzier. Blurred. There’s one last shot with Johnny and Kyle and all you know is an overwhelming sense of joy.

A/N: Don’t love love this part but it’s cute and this is supposed to be my easy to write fic so I’m not stressing about it. Suuuuper excited for the next couple parts tho🤭

[daretoassume]

spiritual lessons i learned before turning 20

it was exactly january 1st, 2021, when i began my self-development journey. i think most of us experienced some unpleasant things in 2020. that year led me to my spiritual path and taught me many things about loving myself. i spent my whole year by myself, meditating, reading books, and practicing conscious manifesting. these things brought out the best in me and guided me on how i perceive the world and life in a better way.

1. don't try to fit in. after all, you are not here to stay.

in my high school days, i always wanted to fit in because it was so hard for me to make friends while observing my other classmates; it was so effortless for them. i wanted to have that friend group, so i tried to fit in by doing what they were doing so i could be acceptable to them.

it was so unhealthy to dislike other people, judge them behind their backs, and waste each other's time. i became someone i am not. i eventually left them because i realized, "if these people i am with can speak negatively about others behind their backs, what makes me think that they are not going to do that to me as well?"

we all want to feel like we belong, but being someone you are not is not the way to feel like you belong. isn't it exhausting always trying to fit in to feel like you belong?

you are supposed to stand out. you are supposed to have your own personality and embrace your qualities. after you love yourself enough and embrace yourself, the right people will come to you, and you will not feel like you are trying to fit in. our life is too short to spend trying to fit in; we might as well look within and be who we are meant to be.

2. don't follow the crowd they are also lost.

it is almost the same as the first one, but this one concerns following society or social norms. we are taught to do one thing because it is more acceptable than the other. who is accepting it? did they say something when they accepted it? are they proud because we followed them?

i thought i had always wanted to be a flight attendant, so i took a tourism degree. where does that thought come from? it was from my family; growing up, they mentioned that i should either be in hospitality or take a tourism degree. i wanted them to be proud of me, so i took that degree, thinking it was my dream.

while i decided to choose that, i didn't consider any other degree because i thought i wanted that for myself. i was not aware. this is the first thing i learned in 2021: to choose the life i want for myself; unapologetically, i am now following the path i am supposed to take while in college.

there is always something in our hearts that we want to do. follow that even if you think it is ridiculous. follow that, even if other people think it is ridiculous. just because you do something different doesn't mean you are crazy. i mean, the world is crazy enough, and following the crowd without awareness is one of them.

3. when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

everything is perception. the meaning you give to everything in your life becomes your reality. and if we think about it, this is a life-changing lesson. the way you look at things determines whether you are going to be mad, happy, sad, or envious. our eyes don't see; our eyes are the only tool our mind uses. and our mind will determine what perception it is that we have.

do you believe that people are kind and friendly or out to get you? whatever you choose, that is what you will create for yourself.

it is about changing your attitude towards situations that did not come your way. change how you look at things in a way that will serve you better so that what is outside of you doesn't control what you feel.

it doesn't mean that if you change your perception, the situation will change as well; it will not, but it will change how you see it. it is how we see things that make us live better. it is inside what we need to change to see life in a beautiful way to create a beautiful life we will love to look at.

remember, where we focus our energy, it will expand. it is nice to develop positivity and love just by focusing on it. i don't mean to have toxic positivity. of course, not every day is love and light; we can dwell on it, but we also have to know when to stop.

4. don't take it personally.

i have learned this the hard way, and i am still learning. other people might say something about us, but it is not about us; what they say is more about them. when somebody calls me "dumb, ugly, stupid, weak, worthless," it is not about me; it is about them.

tell me, what kind of person will say that to another person if they are mentally sane? maybe they are having a bad day and decided to put that on me; perhaps they feel that inside and put that on me (without being aware); it is never about us.

the same goes for someone who calls you "beautiful, nice, amazing"; do you think a person will tell you that if they don't already see that in themselves?

hurt people hurt people, and healed people heal people.

but whenever you are being judged and criticized negatively, remember that a person who is love and light will spread love and light. try not to get upset with people. what they say or what they do is powerless without your reaction. if we get frustrated, we take their trash and make it our own. how can we see life better if our environment controls our thoughts and feelings?

5. introspective work is the most important thing to do.

we are the only ones in our inner world; why not make it a safe space for us? try filling it with love, positive thoughts, and kindness. our inner world reflects our outer world.

you see, if you feel good, you do good and smile at the world. but when we are feeling negative, especially mad, we sometimes put that on other people. if we feel envious, resentful, anxious, or depressed, these are things that we should work on inside, not outside.

we cannot control what is outside; the environment, the situation, and the turbulence on our journey are beyond our control. what we can only control is what is inside.

everything starts within. even in manifesting, we don't look at our reality and ask, "where is it? where is my manifestation?" we see that in our minds first before it comes to fruition. we believe and feel that we already have it; we even fix our self-concept to align with the vibration of what we want before it manifests in our reality. all these things come from our inner world.

do much reflection on how you speak to yourself in your mind, and be aware if it is kind or tormenting you. suppose you think that the outer world is quite harsh. in that case, people are being unkind, or you feel negative about life, turn to your inner world; maybe you are neglecting something inside of you that needs the most attention and introspection. 𓍯 entryfromsane003 (extracted from the old blog two years ago)

[whiteobsidian]

cyra's loa guide

this will be my first and last post about how to manifest. i’ve gotten many asks on what loa is, how to manifest and if they can manifest xyz. there are hundreds of guides on tumblr on how to manifest, here is mine. i hope this can be helpful to any one discovering loa or a comforting post to those who doubt themselves. with that being said, do not go in my inbox and ask how to manifest and if you can. everything is here in this post,

xx,cyra

What is the Law of Assumption?

the law of assumption is a universal law that states that whatever you assume to be true, is true. This law is always working, it can never stop working as 90% of our thoughts are assumptions. Assumptions can be created by our circumstance, perception, and opinions of the world around us.

What is an Assumption? 

The google definition of an assumption is “a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof”, meaning that you assume something as true without having proof in front of you to support that statement.

An example of assumptions are:

“The weather is always hot here”

“I’m not good enough to do this”

“People who dress casually don’t care about their appearance”

Assumptions can be menial or controversial, it doesn't matter what they are, you just need to realize you assume the things in your life all the time.

What is the Subconscious and Conscious mind?

The subconscious mind is a part of the brain that is not focally aware (it can’t see!).  This part of your brain is always consuming information from you , it stores long term memories, beliefs, and assumptions without you being aware of it. It acts on the assumptions you repeatedly persist in and it does not care if the assumption is true or false, it works on what you focus on most. 

The conscious mind is the part of your mind that you are aware of. This part controls your logical/active thinking. Here you make decisions, set goals, analyze situation, and focus attention on tasks or subjects. Here you consciously decide and identify with your desire and choose affirmations and/or visualizations to ‘impress’ your subconscious mind. 

In summary, The conscious helps you set the intention of your desire and the subconscious mind absorbs this intention, aligns your feelings, and works to create the reality to match it. 

What is the 3D and 4D?

The 3D is the physical reality you perceive with your senses( smell, touch, see, taste, hear). It is a mirror that reflects your inner state.

The 4D is your imagination and inner consciousness (your awareness that exists beyond consciousness and/or the true self separate from external influence). 

Awareness is is your true self ( sometimes considered God or Creator), it operates in the 4D.

Ego is your human identity, bound to logic, past experiences, and physical senses. The ego cannot perceive the workings of the 4D and may have fear/doubts. 

Time and Detachment

 Manifestation is instant. Your inner world is creating the outer world, and as soon as you change your assumptions and feelings, the outer reality shifts.

The 3D world doesn’t control you,  it reflects you. While you interact with it, don’t accept it as your ultimate reality. If circumstances frustrate you, allow yourself to feel those emotions but remind yourself that they’re remnants of an old state. Let doubts or fears arise naturally. Instead of arguing with yourself and getting frustrated, let the thoughts pass and know these doubts have no affect on your desires.

 Time is an irrelevant concept because the moment you assume the feeling of the wish fulfilled, the manifestation has taken place, and is finished. 

The inner you/4D does not experience time, you have it instantly. Do not be bound by your physical reality, that is not your true self. 

What is a state?

A state is the mental and emotional condition you are in. It reflects your beliefs, assumptions, and feelings about yourself and your desire. The goal in manifestation is to consciously shift your state of already having your desires. The key is to embody the feelings and thoughts of the desired state. Understand that your inner world shapes your outer experience. For instance, if you want to manifest abundance, you need to live in the state of abundance by feeling and thinking as though you are already wealthy.

The state of fulfillment is the feeling that what you want is already true in your life. In this state you are confident and assured that your desires have already materialized. This state will feel natural and effortless (as manifestation should be).

You can change your state by changing your thoughts, feelings, and assumptions on your desire.  

How do I manifest?

Step 1: Decide What You Want

Get clear on your desire. 

Step 2: Assume It Is Already Yours

Imagine yourself already having your desire. Use the phrase: “I am/have [your desire].”

Step 3: Feel It as True

Experience the feeling of already having it. It’s not about forcing emotions but genuinely dwelling in the state where your desire is fulfilled.

Step 4: Let It Be

After assuming your desire, release the need to “make it happen” in the 3D. Trust that it is already yours and will reflect externally. 

Can I manifest xyz?

Yes. you can manifest whatever you want, it doesn’t matter if it seems unrealistic or impossible, you can still manifest whatever you want. You perceive some desires as big or unattainable because of societies own assumptions on it. You don’t need to suffer to get good things, you don’t need to work, or change your circumstance to get good things. It all relies on your thoughts.  

How do I persist?

To persist means that you stay firm in your assumption that your desire has already manifested, regardless of any circumstances, fears, and doubts. When you persist, you acknowledge that doubts and fears may appear, but you don’t give up on your belief in your desired outcome. In essence, you're just reminding yourself that you have your desire. You can live in the end, affirm, visualize, script etc, or anyway you want to persist.

 Persistence is about consistency. This doesn’t mean obsessing over your desires, but consistently maintaining your belief in the manifestation.

Remind yourself that your desire has already manifested in the 4D, and your 3D reality is simply catching up. 

Void State

The void state is pure consciousness (or pure awareness), free from physical senses and 3D distractions. Entering this state is about detaching from external reality and focusing solely on your awareness. This can happen at any time with practice. Relax your body, let go of external thoughts, and place your awareness on your inner state. The void is where you realize your infinite creative power as awareness.

Who is Neville Goddard?

Goddard was a teach and author known for teaching the powers of manifestation, imagination, and consciousness. His principles align heavily with the Law of Assumption and we continue to use his teaching's today.

Imagination

Goddard taught that imagining a scene as though it already happened is the key to manifesting it in reality. He believed that our imaginations is the force behind everything in life. You don’t need external validation or techniques to manifest,  simply need to shift your inner state.

God is within You

Goddard taught that God is not a separate from us but rather the power of awareness  within all of us. If you identify as someone who has what they desire, your outer world will reflect that identity. He referred this to the “I AM” state, which is the force of universe.

“Man is all imagination, and God is man and exists in us and we in Him.”

Feeling is the Secret

According to Goddard, our feelings are the key to manifestation. The feeling of already having your desire ‘impresses’ our subconscious mind, which then brings it into reality. Feel as though you already have what you desire (because you do.)

Living in the End

This means that we should feel and think as though your desire has already come true. For example, let’s say you want a job, think and feel how you would if you had the job. Go straight to the end. You only need to repeatedly assume the feeling of already having what you want. 

Techniques you can use to Manifest: 

Imagination

Your imagination is the creative power of your awareness. When you close your eyes and visualize, you are stepping into the 4D. Create scenes that imply your desire is fulfilled and dream in them.

Scripting

Write out your desires as if they’ve already happened. Example: “I am so grateful to have my dream job. I feel fulfilled and excited every day.”

Affirmations

Affirmations are simple statements of what you want as if it’s already true. Example: “I am loved,” or “I have everything I desire.” Make sure to repeat affirmations you resonate with.

Revision

Rewrite past experiences in your imagination. For instance, if you had a bad day, imagine it going exactly how you wanted instead. This changes your assumptions about reality.

Circumstances don’t matter. The 3D is only showing remnants of old assumptions. Stay faithful to your new state.

Extra/Rant:

You don't need a technique to manifest, you can affirm once or affirm hundreds of times for hours : you still get your desire.

If you keep asking yourself why you don't have your desire, then you don't completely understand it. i've explained it as much as I could.

be kind to yourself, don't beat yourself up. manifestation should be easy, if it's hard you're putting too much pressure on yourself.

my beliefs on manifestation may not align with yours, that's fine. this is just how i perceived it in my years in the community.

You can manifest whatever you want, yes you can. It doesn’t matter what it is and how crazy it sounds, you can manifest it. yes you can manifest out of thin air, multiple things at once, etc. there is no limit in manifestation. Manifestation is real, LOA is real, it isn’t my job to convince you, that is your decision. Stop asking me for permission, stop asking period, all you need to do is assume. Let this be your sign, just decide, right now that you have everything you want. You and your mind are not separate beings, your mind is you, you control everything! Everything is in your hands, use it.

happy new year and live you dream life.

[worksby-d]

Lying in your arms, so safe and warm

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Summary: After spending Father’s Day with Andy’s son and your newborn daughter, you'd like to give him one last gift once you're alone, but maybe you're not ready yet. (Longer version of this ask I answered in June.)

Warnings: Talking about SEX

Word count: ~800 

a/n: We’re celebrating Father’s Day in October and we're gonna like it damnit!! This is ~technically~ part of this series, but can be read alone.

It’s your first night alone in nearly three months. 

Jacob so graciously offered to take Evren for the night after the long day the four of you had and neither you or Andy could object to that. 

It's late now. Andy thinks you're in the bathroom getting ready for bed, your usual routine. 

He’s talking out loud as he strips his own clothes off in search for something comfier. 

“It's so quiet here without Evie,” he chuckles, shaking his head to himself. “I don't think I remembered what this was like… I know it's only been a few months, but—”

When the bathroom door opens, he looks over his shoulder and short circuits stops mid-sentence as he watches you walk into the room. 

“Wow…”

Evidently, he forgot how to pick his jaw up off the floor. 

His eyes follow from your soft smile, down your body, admiring the silk and lace cami and shorts set that you haven't worn since before you were pregnant. 

He used to joke it's one of his favorites because it's easy to slip off of you. 

His eyes come back up to meet yours as you step toward him. 

“You talk too much for me to remember the quiet, by the way,” you quip, having heard his every thought albeit the door separating the two of you. 

You lean in to kiss him and he laughs against your lips, pulling you closer. 

“What are you doin’?” He mumbles, bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face. “Hm?” 

Pulling away enough to look at him, he doesn't miss the teasing glint in your eyes. 

“Didn't think I'd let Father’s Day end without giving you one more gift, did you?” 

You don't have to ask him twice—or at all—to get in bed with you. 

It's like he's a step ahead of you, blindly moving closer to the bed to pull you down with him. 

“Andy,” you laugh, landing on top of him. 

Your fingers brush through his hair as his lips meet yours again. The kisses are deeper now, slower and more breath-taking — ones you feel like you haven't had time for in ages. 

He's sure as hell not going to complain if making out is all you do tonight, but he has an inkling you had a plan for more.

However, he knows your body and he can tell you're not completely relaxed. He’s well aware it's been a while and rushing you is the last thing he wants to do, but he can feel you're holding back.

To see if it's a matter of needing him to take the pressure off a little bit and take the lead, he moves the hand he has resting on your thigh up higher, over your hip to push the soft fabric of your top up. 

Your heart races even faster than it already is when you feel the warm palm of his hand against your side, his thumb stroking against the skin of your stomach. 

The hand you have on his cheek slips down to his wrist to keep him from undressing you any further. 

He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. 

“It’s okay if you're not ready,” he whispers. 

You let out a sad-sounding laugh. “That sounds familiar.”

He said those exact words to you the night after your first date. You froze in bed then too.

He can't help but smile. “I meant it then just like I mean it now.” 

“I know,” you sigh, dropping your face to hide against his neck. 

He smooths your top back down to cover you, moving on to rubbing your back instead.

“I'm not an animal, honey,” he jokes. “I can go a few months without sex.”

Frustrated with yourself, you let out a deep breath. 

“I'm sorry,” you say quietly. “I've never been self-conscious with you… I don't get it. I just wanna feel like myself again.” 

“You will,” he assures. “Don't apologize.” 

Through the silence that settles between the two of you, he finally feels you relax against him. He can't help continuing his mission to make you feel better. 

“I've changed too, you know. I'm no spring chicken…” 

“Please,” you scoff. “You're just as sexy as the day I met you. It's not fair.”  

“I could say the same about you,” he promises, hugging you tighter. 

You sniffle and he feels a twinge in his heart knowing you don't quite believe him right now. 

“Sorry,” you exhale, not letting yourself cry. “It's your day and you're the one comforting me.” 

“That's what I'm here for,” he whispers. “Always.” 

Tag list: @patzammit @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @astheskycries @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @turtoix @harrysthiccthighss @mrspeacem1nusone @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @xoxabs88xox @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @rogersbarber @dilfbarber @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @raelorns21 @mrsgweasley @pandaxnienke @brandycranby

[rafechubbygf]

rafe cameron x plus size!baddie!chubby!reader

you were the baddie one, but surely, the revenge one. you were the most praised kook ever, because of your daddy’s money. nobody made the most unforgettable, dirtiest, and craziest parties, weirdest as project x ones than you. at first, you were mocked and humiliated, always the center of attention but not for the right reasons and now, you were putting the bullies at your own feet, and you were surely making them hard in your expensive clothes that exposed your curves. some kooks denied the attraction they had for you, others only lived for that.

one day, you were sunbathing on your pool chair, an iced cocktail in your hands, sunglasses on your eyes, luxury hat on your head with a pretty black elbow, the life of a girl who was rich and who had the possibility to use her time as she wanted. you thought you were alone, you wanted to be alone, but someone had burst in front of you.

you knew this face. who didn't know him? it was rafe cameron. the one and only son of ward cameron. one of your father's very close friends.

without shame, he stared at your nice huge boobs which overflowed from your tiny bikini, looking down at your chubby belly. there was no disgust in his eyes. you could even tell he loved it, because he discreetly bit his bottom lip.

“ do you want me to help you daydream about my tits by taking off my top? “

“ so confident about your body. “

“ yes, i love making boys shy. “

he cleared his throat, looking up without being embarrassed.

“ i can bet you’ve never seen one this big.”

“ because you're so aware about my sex routine, yea ? “

“ i know, i'm right. anyway, tell me why are you here, country boy ?”

“ i want to sell drugs at your parties by now. you have all kooks in your house, let me help you make bigger parties. it's a win for the two of us.”

“ i don't need an acolyte. but thanks, sweet proposal, cameron.“

“ but you need a big man. “

you took off your sunglasses.

"you're wrong if you think i need a man. boys like you always humiliated me, thinking i wasn't pretty enough to be respected. so why would i do that for you? what if i say no, rafe ?”

“ absolutly nothing, sweetheart because i will take this for a yes. “

“ do you think i'm scared of you, do you think i can't stand up against you ? “

“ such a big girl, it's supposed to impress me ? do better and harder, you want to show off ? then, perform. “

you rolled your eyes, annoyed by his attitude, while crossing your arms, pressing them against your boobs.

“ also, you're wrong. “

“ about what ? “

“ i like chubby girls. “

“ you're not good at making jokes, rafe cameron. and you just love the curvy sexy side. not the overweight one. “

“ again, you're fucking wrong. “

his look had changed, and his voice tone had become firmer. he was serious. you were starting to doubt.

you always saw boys looking at other girls that you also found pretty, but the way men looked at you made you feel terribly self-conscious before. now you felt better in your body.

“bunny, i can swear i love that plump belly and those fat thighs, and i can go to hell for them.”

“ bunny ? “

“ yes, and trust me, i will make you bounce like them, sweetheart. “

“ what do you mean ? you’re not disgusted by my body?”

“the way your body turns me on, you have no idea, i’m so hard right now. be confident, because my cock is really going to fuck you like you are the most beautiful girl on this earth.”

and then, rafe fucking cameron kneeled at your feet, his hands on your waist, pressing with his fingers your tubby curvy waist, while he kissed your chubby tummy, putting soft kissies on your skin. you can felt the tenderness and warmth covering your pretty belly.

" don't try to fool me, country boy. don't be gentle, when you want nothing that being rough and make me cry.”

“i think your pussy is already crying” he had looking at your dripping fanny and pressed his nose into the fold.

with his fingers, he traced the shape of your fat cunt, pressing on both swollen parts, his thumb against your clit.

“ you're so hot. “

“ and you're so damn hard. “

he pulled your string bikini down to your feet, and you lay down on the pool chair.

"open those legs wide. bunny. i said wider. “

you pushed them aside, revealing your wet pussy. he slipped between your legs, pinning them under his biceps.

“ do you think you can make me cum ? “

“ i will do better than that. what about multiple orgasms, needy girl ? “

he spat on his fingers, before starting to fingering you. you could tell he was good, and it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. his movements were fast, all of your wetness stuck to his fingers as he moved hard into your walls, stretching them. he made your chubby legs tremble on his arms, and your cries became more and more desperate.

"acting like a big girl and now crying like a child, such a pathetic slut."

you didn't respond, your eyes rolling all over the place, while you felt your hole open and clench on his fingers.

he was amused by your noises.

"having fun? you wanted to cry so much? keep dropping those tears, ruin your own dollface, crybaby.”

you were so turned on, your hole was dilated, completely open and his tongue had started to play with your clit, a trickle of saliva slipping to his glistening lips from your arousal fluids at your little button. he had licked it, sucking the pearl harder.

your walls were wrapped around his fingers, the sound steamy and hot of him thrusting inside. you were just a whining mess.

"rafe!...rafe...more!" you cried out.

he moved his digits in and out, you could see his lustrous tongue tucked in your clit, his nose against your pubic. his fingers went deep, covered by your wetness. he had speeded, and started to wreck your count with his big fingers.

“ save your tears, chubby bun, it's the beginning. you think my fingers are big ? fear better of my cock. “

he took off his shorts, tossing it to the side. he was painfully hard. your slobbering lips opened,

he had kissed you, crushing his muscular body against your larger one. you could feel his abs against your belly.

he was an aggressive kisser, kissing your lips violently, possessively.

“ don't kiss me like we are something. “

“ then don't get your pussy soaked like you wanted this more than me. enough talking. “

he made you close your mouth with his tongue, his saliva sliding into yours. you wanted it and you couldn’t deny it anymore. and he understood that.

he had positioned himself between your legs, pressing your thighs against his waist before pushing his cock into your pussy. he gave the first hard thrust, letting out a grunt as he felt how tight and wet you were. you could feel him inside you. his cock was hard to take, but you wanted to make him proud.

your mouth curved into a perfect circle-form, drool falling from your swollen lips. he had started to fuck you deeply, you could feel his hips slapping against your ass, his big balls hitting your thick body. they were full.

you were beautiful, a goddamn plus size hottie kook girl. and you made his heavy fat dick getting monstruous inside you, everytime his tip bumped into your spot. the way your ass jiggles as his deep thrusting, the way all your curves swing harder.

your vision was blurry, because he was fucking you too good. he was sweating. as he filled you, pushing his cock loudly and pounding into your inners so hard that you always ended up letting out a desperate cry. he also touched your curves, tracing their shapes with his fingers, emphasizing how perfect he found them. he also said that from now on, it was his.

"this body belongs to me. and you should really be careful not to forget it, you don't want this to end badly right, bunny?”

your pussy gripped him tighter and tighter, while you held your tits in your hands.

you turned your head quickly to say no. you didn’t want this to end badly but he had grabbed your jaw, gripping it tightly in his hand, forcing your mouth to open and curve, a trickle of saliva slipping from your lip.

“i want a clear answer. i want to hear yes.”

the pleasure was intense, your sensations amplified, the desire became more and more terrible.

your slopping pussy was leaking, and hungry. you could feel every inch of his hard cock, especially when he pushed all the way in.

“ i want to cum…let me cum ! “

“ beg for it and i will see. “

he wanted to continue his thrusts in your pussy. he loved seeing you cry. his sweat ran down his face, a drop glistening on the tip of his nose. his hair was messy, and stuck to his forehead.

“ please…! please…! i'm begging you ! i really need to cum…daddy ?” you tried.

and he had exploded in your walls at the mention of "daddy", making your squirts around his fat dick. your cunt was creamy, mixed with his cum dripping from your slit.

“ what was that ? “

“ what…” you played dumb. “ you mean the daddy thing ? “

“ call me that again and i make your pretty chubby tummy bigger by putting babies inside. “

“ i think you want a next round. “

“ you're right. time to make you pregnant.”

[dude-boi]

Fantasies.

6.6k words.

Summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, should not be thinking of you the way he has been, shamelessly. What happens when he grows tired of your incessant teasing?

 Warnings: Not proofread. No Ellie! SMUT. Hefty age gap (Joel is around 50, the reader is around 22)... unprotected p in v... praise, fingering, mirror sex, slight masturbation.  Also, the reader has light insomnia. Tbh, I want to make a second part to this but we'll see. 

--------------------- Joel Miller. Your dad's best friend/ business partner. Your dad and he work together on some business, one you had no idea about (though you rightfully assumed smuggling). But you didn't dare ask any questions, because it kept you all safe and kept a hefty amount of rations on the table. He's been around for as long as you can remember, watching you grow up into the young woman you are now. You both didn't talk much, but you were used to seeing him around all the time, your dad couldn't do anything without him.

  So, when you found yourself thinking of Joel at 2 A.M with your hand between your thighs and soft pants escaping your lips, you couldn't help but feel a little ashamed, even if you were of age. In all twenty-two years of your life, you'd always have some kind of interest towards Joel. It started out innocently, how any little girl would have a wholesome infatuation towards a someone who'd show her attention. But it developed into something else, something more taboo. It felt wrong to think of him like that, to imagine it was his thick, calloused fingers pumping into you instead of your own, to imagine him taking  your innocence, your purity, your virginity. The thought of someone so close to you, someone so much older  taking care of you and making you feel good just turned you on so much more. He wasn't an ugly man, by any means. In fact, he might've been the hottest man you've ever seen. Everything about him was just right. His salted hair, his gruff beard, his nose, the scar on it, his built arms, the way he stays close to you when your dad forces you to go exploring with him, his accent. Oh god the accent, it just ties everything up with a little bow.

  As you curled your fingers in and out of you, you couldn't help but imagine Joel calling you darlin' or sugar, little nicknames he'd given you through your childhood. Images of his arms flashed through your head. Images of him sitting here, fingering you as he praised you, calling you baby girl, and saying how good you're doing. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, cumming around your own fingers as you softly gasped out his name, a mantra of Joel, Joel, Joel  filling your own ears.

  The euphoria you felt after was indescribable, but it was tainted with the feeling of guilt, but it made it all the more delicious. 

-----

You weren't surprised to find Joel sitting at your breakfast table the very next morning. He was over at your house, a lot.  It was a casual thing, he'd be on the couch with your dad discussing work stuff and spend the night in the guest room next to yours. A part of you had silently wished he could hear you touching yourself, mewling and calling out to him. The idea of getting caught made it all the more better.

  So seeing him eating a bowl of cereal in a dark brown t-shirt at 8:45 in the morning didn't phase you at all, but it did make you self conscious as you were suddenly hyper-aware of your body in a tank top and shorts. And clearly so was Joel, the way his gaze hardened as his eyes lingered. He looked up at you through his eyebrows, his spoon just leaving his mouth as he swallowed.

  "Mornin'," he told you, finishing up his food. He wasn't a man of many words, his eyes did the work for him. And right now, he couldn't keep them to himself. You smiled after remembering what you did last night, thinking of him while you did.

  Keeping eye contact, you replied with a soft grin. "Hey, Joel." Your stomach churned and stirred as you thought about what would happen if he found out about your... fantasies. And your fears were apparent on your face as you poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen.

  Joel noticed your discomfort, and he decided to pry. "Ya' look rough." He raised a brow in curiosity. His arm flexed as he stood up with his bowl in hand, walking towards you in the kitchen. He was putting away his dish. You chuckled nervously, thinking back to your scandalous events the previous night. You felt your face grow warm. "Gee thanks." You replied in a sarcastic yet monotone tone. "Just worn out, didn't sleep till like 2."

"Well, that's no good. You're gon' be tired today then." He tutted, sounds of tsk tsk tsk leaving his lips as he internally reprimanded you for not taking care of yourself.

  You tilted your head as he turned around to face you, he leaned against the counter too. He dried his wet hands on his tee. "Today? What's today?" It sounded like there were plans you were unaware of.

  "Daddy didn't tell you?" He crossed his arms as he sighed, looking at you. You both were staring at each other and if you didn't know any better, you would've sworn he looked you up and down.

You shook your head, still confused. "No?"

  Shaking his head, Joel told you about the plan your dad had come up with. "'He wanted me to take you out today, says you can't be home for a couple hours." You were confused, why couldn't you be home?

  "Why not? Is this work-related?" You asked, knowing if it was, you would go with Joel no questions asked. You would've gone with him regardless.

  He nodded a nod of affirmation, clearing up your doubts. Your father would have people over to discuss business or to give things to people and he didn't want you around for it, valid. You sighed, wanting to have a lazy day, but you didn't complain.

  "Where are they, anyway?" You noticed how you hadn't seen them all morning.

 "They had to run out and grab a few things f' the meeting." It annoyed you how your parents would always meet with smuggling clients in your own home. Whatever.

He had told you to go and get ready and you obliged. 

  "Where are we going?" You questioned, swearing it would be your last question.

  "Just out, drive around."

  You nodded again before leaving the kitchen. You could barely keep it together. The second you turned around, you bit your lip to stay quiet, afraid that you would scream if you didn't. He had that effect on you. But you were unaware of the way Joel adjusted his jeans as he watched you stride back up the stairs in those tiny shorts. 

  You took a quick shower, slipped on a pair of jean shorts and a white t-shirt that was a size too small for you, because God knows your true intentions with Joel. You paused in front of the vanity that lay across the foot of your bed. You brushed your hair down and smoothed your shirt. You just wanted to look good for him, was it a crime? As you trotted back downstairs, he looked up at you from the couch and bit the inside of his cheek. You almost missed his action, but you didn't as you bit back a sly smile.

  His eyes shifted around the room before he stood up and grabbed his flannel. You both stepped out to the front door to slip on your shoes. You clung onto Joel's arm for stability as you put your boots on, he clenched his jaw. He had to control himself. Joel unlocked his truck and opened the passenger side door for you, what a gentleman. Before you knew it, you both were off.

  A CD played quietly as you both wallowed in comfortable silence, it was a silence you'd grown to love and look forward to over the years. He wasn't a very vocal person, but you didn't mind that. The windows were open and the sun beamed down onto your face, illuminating your features softly. You looked over to Joel who had one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. He looked tantalizing, provocative, almost. The way his jaw was clenched, how the top two buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned, how he looked so concentrated as his chest rose and fell, the way his hair got all fluffed up by the wind, the way he tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat of the song. His fingers. Those same large fingers you'd dream about. The scene was almost pornographic, you wanted to scream.

  You ogled him, and it didn't go unnoticed. He peeked over at you and then looked back to the road. "What?" You heard him, but you weren't listening. His words sounded like muffled noises as you waded in your explicit daydream. Joel put his left on the steering and waved his right in front of your face. That snapped you out of it.

  "Oh, yeah. Sorry-" He raised a brow and you stared at him, a sultry stare. "Just tired," You gave a half-assed answer, hoping it would please him. Looking back down into your lap, you smoothed down your shirt.

"What're you doing up so late?" he interrogated. It put you in a weird spot. You obviously couldn't tell him what you were actually doing, so you tried your best to tell as much as you can. You would always try to avoid lying to Joel, partially because it made you feel bad but mostly because he could tell. He could read you and your body language too well.

  "I don't know. It gets lonely, and I can't sleep. You know, the norm'." You chuckled softly, but you weren't lying. It really does get lonely and there's not much you can do about it. And you've struggled with sleep recently, insomnia creeping up on you with age. You've mentioned it before, but not how it keeps you up for hours.

  "You gotta take care of yourself. You're not... a kid anymore." he huffed, he wouldn't say it out loud but he felt this urge, an urge to take care of you and keep you under his wing forever, keep you his girl forever. But he can't do that, can he? How could he feel this kind of way towards his best friends daughter? He would catch his eyes loitering over you when you emerged from your bedroom in your shorts and tee, and he could feel his heart beat every time you looked up at him with soft eyes, thanking him for whatever gesture he'd do for you. Because that's all Joel did, help help help, give give give. Joel felt something for you in a way he didn't think was possible for him ever again. He felt ashamed  in the best way possible.

"I've got you, don't I?" You joked, snorting a bit. You peered over at him to see his reaction. His jaw clenched as he forced out a tiny smile ."Uh huh, yeah." 

  -----

Joel had pulled over for a bit to take a break. You were on some empty bridge over a lake, the scenery was beautiful. He had brought water, which you very desperately needed. The summer heat seared your skin, moisture droplets pooling in the dips of your body.

Your hands found their way to the cupholder by Joel's thigh. Although you wanted to place your hand on his leg and inch it higher, your controlled your urges and grabbed the water bottle instead of his dick. You unscrewed the cap, tilted your head back, and opened your mouth to waterfall the water into your mouth. Joel observed the way you licked your lips before drinking, the way your throat bobbed up and down upon swallowing, the way rogue droplets of water trickled down the corner of your mouth down to your throat, and if they were lucky, into your shirt and onto your chest. You peeked over at Joel. You almost choked on your water after seeing he was staring. A lightbulb flickered above your head as you had what seemed like a great idea. You "accidentally" spilled water onto your shirt and watched it cling to your breasts, the color of your bra fading in slightly.

 "Ah shit. I'm sorry-" you apologized before Joel grunted and mumbled incoherently before lifting himself off the seat and reaching into the backseat over the center console. His shirt lifted slightly, revealing the waistband of his boxers under his jeans. He grunted again while he grabbed something and gave it to you, a rag. You thanked him and watched him as your rubbed it against your chest. You decided to have a little fun with it, make it antagonizing, painful. His eyes met yours and he watched as a twinkle of mischief appeared. You hands squeezed the rag as you rubbed it against your body, slowly.

It angered Joel. It angered him in a different way. It angered him to see you sitting here, driving him up a wall when he'd rather he fucking you against one instead. He was angry at the world for making this beautiful girl in front of him his best friend's daughter. What he wouldn't give to just grab your face.

 You held back a smirk as you placed the rag on Joel's lap after finishing "drying" yourself. It wasn't very dry obviously, but it was good enough. Still not done, you picked up the bottle again. But this time, you put your mouth on it. Your blushed lips wrapped around the head of the bottle as you took one last gulp as Joel watched your throat bob.

 You left a hefty amount for Joel as you pulled it away from your lips, the smallest string of spit connecting to your lips and the bottle. Bringing it back down to hand to him, you bit the inside of your cheek. You noticed how his eyes were already on you before you looked, it made you swell with hope and delusion. But you weren't crazy. He was looking, staring, scanning, analyzing your every move. It was a habit of his, something he'd learn to do when his life was always in danger. But he used it for other purposes, like looking at the beautiful young woman next to him.  

He took the bottle from your hand with no words exchanged, your fingers brushing against his momentarily. The contradiction between both of your fingers was almost electric, your soft fingers against his rugged digits, your petite hand against his broad one. His eyes found yours again. He decided to play your little game with you. He watched you intently as he wrapped his lips around the bottle, the bottle you just had your mouth on. His free hand gripped the rag you tossed at him. 

He enjoyed this little game you played with him, and this wasn't the first time either. The amount of times you'd brush your knee against his, graze your fingers against his shoulder, look at him pathetically when you were bored. And now that he had the chance to reciprocate it without anyone around, he felt like he could have you wrapped around his little finger. It felt wrong, but he couldn't care less.

 You clenched your thighs together as you watched him wrap his chapped lips around your spit-ridden bottle. Did he know what he was doing to you? 

Deciding to have mercy on you, he put the bottle back down in the cupholder. Joel got out of the car, his excuse being to get some fresh air, but in reality he needed to adjust his half-hard cock. You threw your head back in the seat and splayed your arm across your face while something between a sigh and a groan exuded out of you. Your thighs instinctively rubbed together in hopes to soothe the dull ache forming. This was probably the hottest thing you've experienced in your entire lifetime, which you thought was embarrassing. Being 22 and a virgin having done absolutely nothing, but Joel having experience made it all the worth while. You would always imagine that he'd take care of you, teach you the ropes, show you how to touch yourself while-

"What happened t' you?" Joel interrupted your thoughts as he popped up at your window. You jumped took your hand off your face, looking to him as your thighs stopped moving. 

"Jesus, Joel." You shook your head, a hand resting on your chest.

 "Didn't mean to scare ya', pretty." 

Pretty. 

He must've noticed your reaction with the way he chuckled. It was a deep, guttural sound. He walked around front, grabbing his aching back to get back in the driver seat as you sat up in the seat, embarrassed, somewhat turned on, and ready to go home. Joel glanced at his watch before starting up his truck once more. 

"Your daddy should be done now," was all he said before you both drove off to your place of shelter.

 ----- 

That evening was pretty uneventful. After Joel brought you home, you had thanked him with the softest smile and the most twinkling eyes you could conjure up, your last attempt to rile him up. You went up into your room to take a nap until dinner, assuming it would just be you and your parents tonight.

 However, that was not the case. Joel was there, he stayed for dinner. On a normal occasion, dinner with Joel made you all giddy and excited, but not today. Not after you saw how Joel reciprocated your stupid little game. It made your stomach churn, in both a good and bad way, you couldn't decide.

 At the little circular dining table, Joel took a seat next to you, your mother next him, and your father next to her which brought him seated right next to you. You couldn't help it as your leg bounced, a form of excitement settling in.

 Dinner started off normally, passing around food as your father made conversation to Joel about the meeting. Your mother would occasionally include her input, which left you sitting there all quiet. 

"He wants to meet again next week. Both of us." Your father voiced to Joel as he nodded, his eyes flickering beside him to look at you. They went on, talking about god knows what and junk you couldn't care less about.

 In a world like this it was easy to feel neglected, unseen, lonely. Even with all these people surrounding you. So when your lip twitched while you poked at your food, Joel noticed. He interrupted your dad and mom to reel you into their conversation.

"We had fun today." Joel sounded. His voice was so gruff yet so smooth. "Me and you, right?" He looked up at you through his eyebrows, a thin grin falling upon his lips as he remembered your events of the day.

Caught off-guard, you lifted your head up and looked around the table to see all eyes on you. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. Was a beautiful drive." You couldn't care less about the drive, Joel was the only beautiful thing in your eyes for miles. 

"Is that right, sweetie? I'm glad it wasn't boring. She didn't bother you, did she Joel?" Your mother smiled warmly at you before turning her attention back to Joel, who seemed to be thinking, reminiscing. A smirk played onto his face as he stared at you and then her. 

"Shes a good girl. Not too much." He told her playfully. But he lied, you got him all hot and bothered. 

-----

Dinner felt like an eternity. You couldn't even hold your appetite the way Joel made you feel. You wished for it to be over so you could just lock yourself in your room till morning. It felt like a dream, the whole day was absolutely unreal in the best way possible. To make your day even longer, your mother had offered to let Joel stay for the night, again. It's not like he had anywhere better to be. He was like a permanent fixture in your home, he had that designated guest room next to you and everything. 

You finished your dinner as soon as possible and tried to leave upstairs when your mother stopped you. "Be polite, could you please clean up the dishes?" she asked you, slightly jerking her head towards Joel to tell you to be a nice host. You spat out a smile and a slightly annoyed nod before you got up to collect plates. Instead of going to Joel first, you picked up your dad's, then your mother's and then Joel's. You leaned over by his shoulder almost into his lap, giving him a slight view of your breasts. He was so close to you, you could smell him and he could smell you. His jaw twitched as he started to grind his teeth. His breath was shallow and he had no expression on his face. Your hair brushed his shoulder as you got back up, giving Joel a cute little smile. He smiled back, but it wasn't genuine, you could tell. He adjusted the napkin on his lap, attempting to hide something. 

You turned around and walked back to the kitchen with a little pep in your step, ecstatic that you almost made him break. As soon as you were in the kitchen and away from the table, you let out a snort. Humming, you rinsed and washed each dish slowly, taking your sweet, sweet time. That was until someone had found their way to the kitchen, and that someone was Joel. 

You decided to pay no mind to it and continue washing. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, causing you to let go of the dish into the sink. With soapy hands, you balanced yourself by grabbing the ledge behind you.

 "The hell ya' think you're doin'?" His expression was unreadable. His teeth were clenched and his brows were furrowed. Even in a moment like this, when his body is almost pressed against yours and your back is digging into the edge of the sink, you still couldn't help but notice how good he looks. The wrinkles and smile lines against his sun kissed skin show cased his life, his experiences, his hardened past.  

"What are you talking about?" You shook your head and lied, this was fun. You crossed your wet arms, once again wetting your shirt. 

"Oh please. Ya' think I don't know what you're tryin'? Pickin' up the dishes, the water bottle, the shirt. I might be old, but 'm not stupid, darlin'." 

Darlin'. You swore if he called you anything else besides your name you would tie your hair up and get on your knees now. You just snorted before turning back around to finish up washing the dishes. Your ass was ghosting against his crotch. He took a step back, angrily. "Joel, please. I haven't done anything. Think your just imagining shit." All you heard was a scoff before he exited the kitchen, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

 -----

Around 12 A.M, you were up in your room in a short nightgown, reading some book to get your mind off of things. Today's events were wayyy different than any other interaction with Joel, it kind of excited you. Knowing he was next door just made you more nervous, yet excited.

God you were so turned on, so so riled up. Assuming Joel was asleep, you had tossed your book to the side of your bed and settled against your headboard comfortably. The walls were thin, you knew that. But Joel was an older man, he would sleep through anything. That's what you convinced yourself as you slipped your hand back between your thighs, rubbing softly just like the night before. Soft mewls filled your own ears as the familiar burn in your stomach formed, your fingers rubbing harsh circles on your clit. Taking it further, your slipped a finger inside, a pant leaving your lips. 

"Shit... Joel.." You tried so hard to whisper, and you thought you did, until someone knocked on your door. You stopped dead in your tracks, the noise startling you. There was another knock, a bit louder. You slipped out of bed and wiped your sticky hand off on a towel that was hanging on your closet door before going up to open the door. 

For fuck's sake. It was Joel. This made your heart sink slightly, what if he had heard? Why was he even awake? Before you could even open your mouth to question him, he pushed past the half-cracked door and shut it behind him, locking it as well. 

"What the hell, Joel?" you inquired, angry that you were interrupted and embarrassed to be standing here in your short little nightgown. It made you feel childish. 

He didn't say anything, just studied you up and down before taking a step closer, like you both were in the kitchen, bodies pressed up against each other. "Trouble sleepin'?" His face was hard to read. He looked.. amused? You shook your head in disbelief, trying to come up with an answer. As you opened your mouth to answer, he cut you off. "'F you're gonna lie to me, don't bother speaking," You closed your mouth quickly, caught off guard. Bingo, he got you there. He looked smug, smug that he finally was getting you back after all those times. He leaned down and in, his face right in front of yours with your breaths swirling together between your lips. He moved again, this time leaning into your ear to whisper, "Because we both know what you were doin' in here. Right? Touchin' yourself, moanin' my name, you think I couldn't hear you? 'M surprised the whole house didn't wake up to you sayin' my name like that." This was the most he's ever said anything to you in one go. So he did hear you, he heard you all those nights youd fantasized about him fucking you into oblivion. Your face flushed hot. Incredibly humiliated, you looked down, staring down at your bare toes as Joel kept his lips near your ear. "What happened to that confidence, girl? What about that stunt you pulled in front of your parents? Where's that little loud mouth?" He chuckled dryly as his rough, large hands found their place at your chin. Those same hands you'd fantasize about were holding your chin between two fingers and lifting it up to look Joel in the eye. "Poor girl... she's 'mbarrassed..." was all he said before holding your hand and leading you to the edge of your bed.

He sat down on it with legs slightly spread as he patted his lap, gesturing you to sit. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, was all that ran through your head as you sat on his lap, back flush against his chest as you both were facing your vanity. From the reflection of the mirror, you could see Joel smiling, brushing hair behind your ear. He was tantalizing, slow, and it was killing you. You wanted him to put his hands anywhere he wanted, but he's being careful, precise. Getting impatient, you let out something between a whine and a Joel. He was amused. You started to grind on him in a pathetic attempt to tarnish that familiar ache in your lower belly. With a laugh, Joel's hands found their way to your knees, spreading them apart while he made sure you were watching in the mirror. Your dim, warmly lit room cast an orange tint over you both, Joel's silver hair glistening in it.

He spread your legs open and flipped your gown up above your hips, revealing your cotton panties underneath. If you knew this would've happened, you would've worn something cuter. You looked away from the mirror, embarrassed for what felt like the hundredth time tonight.  

He noticed your embarrassment and your attempt to hide it.

"Well aren't these cute." He said, talking about your untouched, white panties. 

"Oh please." You slightly rolled your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek as you looked down to his hands that traced lines up your bare thighs and to your core. He stopped touching you and you looked into the mirror to make eye contact with him. 

"You gonna gimmie an attitude? 'Cause I'll leave you here all hot 'n bothered, just like you did to me." 

"No, I'm sorry, Joel please," you whined, he had you begging before he barely even touched you. 

"You gonna be good?" 

"So good." That was all you whispered before Joel split your legs apart farther while his left hand wrapped around your stomach, both keeping you in place and keeping your nightgown up. His right hand settled between your wide legs, messing with the hem of your panties before simply pushing them to the side, revealing your glistening cunt. 

A satisfied, mmh noise left Joel's throat his middle finger prodded around, gathering slick between your slit and dragging it up to your clit. You gasped, the feeling being much better than you could ever dream of. His fingers rubbed up and down your folds, his thick finger softly rubbing your clit in small circles.

You could see it all, see your cunt and his finger wet and glistening, see the way his jaw clenches as he watches himself touch you, you could see it all in the mirror. You saw the way his middle finger disappeared inside you and re-appeared before it disappeared once more. You saw the way your mouth fell into a loose 'o' shape as his thumb simultaneously prodded at your clit. 

As the pressure built up in your lower belly, Joel added his ring finger. You clenched around him as he curled his fingers inside of you, thumb still on your clit. You looked away from the mirror, unable to stay focused as the the wet squelching filled your ears and you stomach burned. 

He let go of your stomach and brought his hand up to your face as the gown flipped back over his hand fucking into you, gripping it harshly and turning it back towards the mirror. "Keep watchin'." He was stern, you were aware of that by the way squeezed your face before letting go, flipping your gown back up. All of this while simultaneously fucking you with his fingers. It was magical. Your own fingers never felt this way, they didn't make you squirm like he did or make you whine as loud. They didn't make you cum like this either. Your moans got higher as his fingers pushed in and out of you faster, your orgasm approaching. You squirmed so much, so Joel's left hand held you in place tightly. His grip almost hurt. 

"'S alright, let it go baby." He mumbled so quietly you almost missed it. 

Feeling it upon you, you almost yelped, but Joel clapped his left hand over your mouth and held it shut tightly, your moans disappearing into his palm. Your jaw went slack as the knot in your stomach unraveled, coating Joel's fingers white. He let out a satisfied hum as he rode out your orgasm, your legs shaking ever so slightly. It was intense. Your head was reeling as Joel prompted you to look at the mirror, and you did. You saw yourself on his lap breathing heavily and a mess on his jeans and fingers. He wiped his fingers off on his jeans before holding both your shoulder and helping you up, holding you while you found your balance. 

You gripped on to his arm while he stood in front of you, smoothing down your gown. You peered up at him through your lashes and he looked down at you. You felt like you had to do something for him after he did this for you, you had to help him out too, right? Assuming so, you got down on your knees while keeping eye contact the whole time. As soon as your knees hit the cold floor, you held onto his calves and peered up at him. 

"I've never... never done this before." You bit your lip as your face turned red with that confession. He laughed dryly, rubbing one of your cheeks with his thumb.

"Oh get up." He held you by your shoulders and brought you back onto your feet. "'S your first time, 'm not gonna make you do that. Maybe next time." He continued to chuckle. 

Next time. 

Joel had pushed you back onto the bed softly, the back of your knees hit your plush sheets. You plopped onto the bed with your knees supporting you up and your legs hung off the edge as Joel slotted himself between your knees. He just gazed upon you, watched the way the warm light lit up your cheeks. You did the same, you watched his hungry eyes dart up and down your body, the way his white hair lay all messed up, the first two buttons on his shirt unbuttoned and his shoulders hunched and probably aching. His hands found the edge of your nightgown and he pulled it over your head and tossed it to the side, drinking in your beautiful body. He ran his hands up and down your soft skin, remembered every curve and dip. 

You couldn't wait any longer. Panting heavily, you grabbed the his belt and pulled him down so your hips were touching. You squeezed your thighs together to relieve the feeling that was building up once again. 

"So eager." Was all he mumbled before he was undoing his belt and slipping his jeans down to his knees, revealing his boxers and his hard bulge. Just by the looks of it, he was huge. There was a small wet patch on his boxers where his precum leaked out. Your mouth hung open as Joel watched your face while he slowly pulled down his boxers. It wouldn't fit. No way. He was too fucking big. It sprung out and slapped against his stomach, curving ever so slightly to the left. Not only was it long, it was thick too, it would definitely hurt. 

"It won't fit, no way. I've never done this before, Joel there's no way it'll-" he cut you off.

"We'll make it fit." That had shut you up. Whatever Joel said, goes. You didn't dare talk back to him now, not after seeing what he could do to you. With his knee, he pushed your knees apart and cupped your cheek with his gruff hand. He just watched you as he bent over, cock brushing against your bare, sticky thigh. You laid on the bed all sprawled out, heavy breath and messy hair, ready to do whatever Joel wanted you to. 

Lodging the tip of his cock inside you, he held onto your waist with one hand while he used his other to support himself up. 

"Pleaseee Joel." You pleaded, not being able to wait anymore. He didn't need anymore convincing. He practically hurled himself forward, thrusting inside of you as his cock stretched you out painfully. Your instinct was to clench around him to ease the pain but it didn't help. You were squirming and whimpering, the pain felt like you were being split in half. Joel grunted as he slipped inside. You were pulsing around him impossibly tight. 

Joel cinched his brows and grunted as you tightly wrapped around him. "Relax. Relax b'fore you- kill me." He was referencing to how tight you were, your back arching off the bed. Joel's hand found its way to your clit, rubbing soft circles onto it to try to get you relax. It helped enough, enough for Joel to start moving. He set a merciful pace to start you off slow, it being your first time. 

"Shit, squeezin' me so tight." Joel grunted out as he pulled his hips back and slammed back into you, punching all the air out of your lungs. He began to speed up, the tip of his cock reaching that spongy part inside you. He stretched you out wide and the pain slowly converted to pleasure. You mewled out loudly, holding on to the thin sheets of your bed. He had grabbed the backs of your knees and brought them up to your chest, this new angle had him reaching deeper than before. 

"Fuckfuckfuck Joel.. Joel." a mantra of Joel's escaped your pretty lips loudly as he nailed into you hard. Maybe you were a little too loud because Joel's hand found its way back to your face and was clasped over your mouth again. 

"Shut up. What would your daddy say if he saw you clenchin' around my cock and screamin' my name like that, hmm? Not such a good little girl anymore, are ya'?" He taunted. You wanted to swat him away and reprimand him for embarrassing you like that, but the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix made you forget about everything else in this world. Each thrust pushed all air out of your lungs and all thoughts out of your brain as Joel would mumble some incoherent praises, telling you how good you were doing. 

He only sped up, thrusting in and out while he kept his hand over your mouth. Your moan were muffled and Joel's deep groans and the sound of skin slapping was all that could be heard. It was obscene. You couldn't last any longer, not with the way he was holding your legs up to your body and definitely not with the way his cock was buried inside you. That familiar knot built up inside you once more, threatening to snap with every snap of Joel's aching hips. He could feel it, he could tell you were close the way you pulsed around him. So he sped up, sped up to a pace you didn't even know was possible as you came. You came all over his cock, a white ring forming around it as he kept fucking it out of you. 

"Such a sweet girl , so so sweet." He didn't even know what he was saying as he could feel himself getting closer too. Joel didn't stop, he didn't even slow. You didn't have time to recover from your almost painful orgasm as he chased his own. You were so fucked out and he fucked you more, it started to hurt. It was overstimulating. 

"I can't.. 's enough, Joel 's enough-" you choked out. 

"You can take it, I know you can." was all he grunted out as you whimpered back arching once more. Joel's hips stuttered, but he didn't slow. He kept going, abusing your puffy hole as he choked out one last broken moan before pulling out to cum on your stomach. His hands let go of your legs as he gave himself one last tug. Hot ropes spurted out of him and onto your stomach, you could only whimper at the loss of his dick inside you. 

He used his hand to cup your cheek, caressing your sweat ridden face softly. "Told ya' you could take it." You could only roll your eyes as your legs ached and your head spun and Joel laughed. He liked seeing you fucked out like this, his cum all over your stomach and your cunt red and stinging. You were so exhausted. 

Before you passed out, the last thing you remembered was the feeling of a warm towel cleaning you up and Joel's honey smooth voice saying, "Relax, baby girl. We can talk about it tomorrow." 

In the state you were in now, you couldn't even tell if this was a dream. Tomorrow. Would you even be able to face him tomorrow?

----- 

[thejournallo]

Explain the basic: Shadow Work

As always, I will love to hear your thoughts! and if you have any questions, I will be more than happy to answer them! If you liked it, leave a comment or reblog (that is always appreciated!). if you are intrested in more method check the masterlist!

Desclaimer: Everything I will talk about is information that I got from books and sites online and even videos on YouTube. In my years of practice, I learned as much as I could out of curiosity and what works best for me. I suggest you do the same by learning as much as you can on your own (I will be here making posts teaching this kind of stuff) from multiple sources.

Shadow work in witchcraft refers to the practice of exploring and integrating the darker, often unconscious parts of oneself. This concept, which has roots in Jungian psychology, involves confronting and working through repressed emotions, fears, and desires that can influence behavior and spiritual well-being. For witches and those practicing modern paganism, shadow work is a means of personal growth, healing, and achieving a more balanced self.

What is Shadow Work?

Concept and Origins

The term "shadow" was popularized by Carl Jung, who described it as the unconscious part of the personality that contains repressed weaknesses, desires, and instincts. In witchcraft, shadow work involves delving into these hidden aspects to gain a deeper understanding of oneself and to heal from past traumas. (Do not take it as a substitution for a professional therapist.)

the Purpose is:

Self-Awareness: Gaining insight into one's unconscious motivations and behaviors.

Healing: Addressing and healing from past wounds and traumas.

Integration: Bringing the shadow into the conscious mind to achieve a more balanced and whole self.

How to Do Shadow Work in Witchcraft

Preparation

Safe Space: Create a physical and emotional space where you feel safe and comfortable. This can include an altar, candles, crystals, and other personal items.

Set Intentions: Clearly state your intentions for undertaking shadow work. This could be written in a journal or spoken aloud as part of a ritual.

Techniques

Journaling: Regularly write about your thoughts, feelings, and experiences. Focus on patterns, triggers, and recurring themes in your life.

Meditation: Practice meditation to quiet the mind and become more aware of your inner world. Guided meditations specifically for shadow work can be helpful.

Dream Analysis: Pay attention to your dreams and record them. Dreams can provide insight into the unconscious mind.

Tarot and Oracle Cards: Use tarot or oracle cards to explore your shadow. Specific spreads can help reveal hidden aspects of yourself.

Rituals: Perform rituals that focus on introspection and healing. These might involve candle work, invoking deities or spirits associated with transformation, and symbolic acts like burning written fears or burying objects representing old wounds.(Do not even think of doing this without the right preparation first!)

Mirror Work: Spend time looking at yourself in the mirror, speaking affirmations, and acknowledging both positive and negative aspects of yourself.

Integration and Healing

Acceptance: Acknowledge and accept all parts of yourself without judgment.

Self-Compassion: Practice self-compassion and forgiveness for past mistakes and behaviors.

Therapy: Consider professional therapy if needed, especially when dealing with deep traumas or difficult emotions.

Continual Practice

Shadow work is an ongoing process rather than a one-time task. Regularly revisit and update your practices to continue growing and healing.

Tips for Effective Shadow Work

Patience and Persistence: Shadow work can be challenging and emotional. Be patient with yourself and persistent in your efforts.

Support System: Have a support system in place, whether friends, family, or a community of like-minded individuals.

Self-Care: Engage in regular self-care activities to balance the intensity of shadow work.

Balance: Ensure you balance shadow work with other spiritual practices that uplift and energize you.

Shadow work in witchcraft is a profound journey of self-discovery and healing, leading to greater self-awareness and spiritual depth. By embracing both the light and shadow within, practitioners can achieve a more harmonious and integrated self.

[olivianyx]

i don't mean to offend you but how our imagination can be our true reality when we are so limited in our brains? you can't talk with other humans in your brains, you can;t smell, taste, feel, hear you can only repeat words and see imagines and that's it..... this world feel so much more real...

IMAGINATION IS THE TRUE REALITY

Hey! This was the same question I had 3 years ago, and I still remember the day I researches the reason.

Honey I'd recommend you to read Neville's works once! He's explained in the perception of the Lord and spirituality, but I'll explain you scientifically along with a pinch of non duality.

♡ firstly, we're spiritual beings. We're all a part of God (if you believe in God). I personally believe there's no God out there, but in ourselves God lives. We're God. We all are. God is living inside our body, but God isn't physical (I'm sorry I don't use 'He' or 'Him' cus God doesn't have any gender) God is a formless, divine being, and that's what we really are. We're all formless void that can choose to exist into anything.

♡ We're pure awarenesses. We always have been. Let's not get confused with physical reality. That's the state we chose to live in, intentionally or unintentionally. The state we're in rn is the same thing in both imagination and reality. We don't need senses to be aware of something. Senses are limited to the physical reality. But divinity soars higher and beyond senses.

♡ We're not our body, mind, or soul. We're pure awarenesses, that chose to be aware of a certain consciousness. The consciousness that is currently thinking about and stressing about the physical reality. Yeah, that's the state you're conscious about or aware about. Let's not pull body, mind and soul in terms of manifestation. They only exist if we choose to make them exist. They only will exist if we want to, not because logically living beings are supposed to have a body, mind and soul.

♡ Coming to your point, imagination is the true reality. How? So as I mentioned we're pure awarenesses and don't have a body, mind or soul. I also mentioned that our bodies, minds and souls exist only and only if we want to. If, and only, if it's fulfilled in the imagination, it can be projected in the reality. Here's an illustration I made.

♡ 'Only repeating words, and cannot taste, hear, smell, touch or feel, and can't communicate with other humans' it's because you've chose a state where you lack all these. Who told you we cannot communicate with others in the imagination? It's possible. And the possibility already exists. And the 5 senses are limited with the body. They're physical. But imagination just is. It doesn't have to do anything. Awareness just is. There's nothing to do. Doing is physical, logical bullshit that was created in this physical reality. Honestly, you don't even have to do anything at all. And anyone else who's struggling to apply this simple trick and the loassumption work, y'all don't need to do anything, just work on your self concept.

♡ Ik I always tell y'all to work on your self concept. But actually you don't have to. You actually don't need to work on it, if you apply this simple trick to make loassumption work for you. I reason I still stress about this is, y'all have been suffering in the state of consciousness y'all chose yourselves. Like you are the creator, you're the God of your reality. You are the one in control. But most of y'all don't understand this concept, that's the reason why I always stress about working on your self concept.

♡ When you work on your self concept, you get a grasp on controlling your thoughts, you find it easier to maintain a mental diet, you eventually will start feeling confident, you'll end up choosing the right state, the state where you have all your desires, and in turn you live in the end and fulfill yourselves. In the end, it obviously manifests. But if that illustration I put above is used without any need to work on your self concept, you can always get your desire instantly without that 1 month long self concept working.

♡ Coming to the scientific part. As a medical student that loves neurology alot is excited to write this part lmaoo. There's this structure called Hypophysis cerebri, the pineal gland. It's size is so small like the size of a pea. Situated exactly in the centre of the brain. The structure that helps in the regulation of circadian rhythm (sleep wake cycle) and secretes melatonin, also called the sleeping hormone (y'all who are insomniac, you gotta sleep or spend time in darkness, since melatonin secretion peaks during dark adaptation or in the night time especially. Y'all must atleast try to fall asleep lmaoo I feel like a proud doctor y'all)

♡ It's believed that pineal gland disappears after death, which is really true. I actually didn't believe until I went to med school. So this gland is believed that it's the subconscious mind, while other theory says that the left side of the brain is conscious brain and the right side, the subconscious mind. But I believe the former.

♡ There's 2 ways how manifestation is scientific, conscious manifestation and subconscious manifestation. You've always been doing this unintentionally since the minute you we're born and eternally.

♡ First, coming to subconscious manifestation. Your brain doesn't know the difference between reality and imagination. In your drowsy state before sleep, as the brain waves changes to alpha or theta, the brain really confuses with what's reality and imagination, when actually both are same. What's in your imagination must be here in the reality too. When you imagine or think about a certain thing while falling asleep (sats and lullaby method), your subconscious mind which is open to receive suggestions, picks this up and thinks it as reality and inturn project it into the 3d world by reprogramming throughout the night while you sleep. And when you wake up you experience it in the 3d.

♡ In conscious manifestation, you keep thinking about a certain thing or you keep imagining it, in the day time, you may have opposing thoughts. So what happens is, there's a structure in your brain called reticular activating system (RAS). This structure is responsible for all your senses except smell. This structure, as you think you need this certain thing, starts searching opportunities for meeting your needs with the help of your subconscious mind. For example, you wanted to eat burritos, so you first think about it. Your RAS suggests that there's this shop that sells delicious burritos. You immediately decide that you're going there after school. Your subconscious mind, which obeys to the decision you made consciously, now projects it into the 3d, that you're going (like bitch you're in a state of eating burrito after school) eventually you'll go there after school! Your RAS didn't create anything, what you want already existed. It just helped you to locate or give you a solution. It's that quick light bulb that clicks when you're thinking something and that works out. I hope you get what I mean 😭

♡ Why do all of this work? Because you we're fulfilled in your imagination (in state) and by default, all this works, cus you're in a state all of this works. You just have to mange the proper thoughts to enter the state of wish fulfilled. Imagination doesn't necessarily be images, it can be anything. It's you. You're the imagination yourself. You create the reality. You're the divine one. So treat yourself and think as God. The 3d is real, so is the 4d, your imagination. Both must have the same illustration or state upon which you dwell.

♡ imagination and reality, both are like twins. Both have the same looks, feelings, and everything. Only difference is that, anything to appear in the reality, imagination is the one that initiates first. Not the reality. Which is impossible.

♡ Now for all of that I explained above. Who's the ultimate GOAT behind? Your Imagination. Periodtt. Just your Imagination. Now, no more explanations rn. Your imagination creates reality. Shushh.

Ig y'all understood something 😭 I just gave my best explanation how much ever I knew.

GOJO SATORU, THE LOVE OF MY LIFE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️😫✨✨✨✨ I'M COMING FOR YOU, I'M COMING TO SAVE EVERYONE PLEASE WAIT FOR ME FOR A WHILE CUS YOU GF HERE IS PROCRASTINATING TO COMPLETE HER SCRIPT 😭😭😭😭😭 I LOVE YOU BABY (btw, I scripted gojo is my boyfriend in my jjk script HAHAHAHAHAHAHA)

- olivia 🤍

[wayfayrr]

Self-conscious captain

the next self aware link and this time it's the captain my favourite boy, warriors!

[masterlist]

“Hey [Name], I’ve been going through some of my old games to clear things out. I found my copy of Hyrule Warriors and wanted to know if you’d like it?”

“I thought that was one of your favourites though, what’s come into you to give it away like this? Do you want anything for it, I’d feel bad simply taking from you.”

“Nah I got it as a gift anyway, I beat the game and did everything there is to do. Plus I know you’ve been wanting to play it anyway, so please have it.”

There’s something off about this, between how skitterish they’re acting and the fact they’re so willing - that they’re so desperate for me to take their favourite game from them? I’ve got nothing else to go off of though, and they are right I have been planning to buy it. They wouldn’t be offering if they didn’t want me to have it so what is there to lose?

“If you’re sure then. I can’t wait to play through it myself rather than watching you.”

Is there such a thing as too much relief? Because if there is then that was definitely it, with how their shoulders relaxed; all the tension left their body as they handed me the game. Why does this feel like the start of a creepypasta, am I simply gonna go home then suddenly there’s some new version of Ben drowned for me to deal with? I won’t know until I play I guess, but it might be fun. 

There’s no better time than now to learn though, I’ve got the whole afternoon to myself anyway so why not? Putting the game into my switch; booting it all up it seems fine, so there’s nothing there that should have messed with them. It’s up until the first cutscene for anything to even show up that could be wrong. Link’s eyes seem to be focusing on me far more than they should during it, more than what should be possible, with more of a smile than he usually does during this too. Then I finally get to the level.

I can’t control Link, the game seems to be frozen, not a single bokoblin moving, Link is still moving, the camera isn’t even focused on him now and he’s moving closer to the screen. 

“Honeybee? You’re here! I knew your friend would cave pretty face when I pressed them. It’s so nice to have you here alone with me!”

“...What.”

“Oh it’s all alright dear, I did think you’d be a little shocked at first because, well I mean I know this isn’t something that happens very often. Would you be against getting to know me better though?”

What. The. Hell. No wonder they were so eager to pawn the game off to me, a living character that seems to be obsessed with me? If the roles were switched then I’d be throwing it at them as quickly as I could, I’m amazed they could even keep calm for long enough to hand it to me without seeming any more suspicious than they did, he threatened them he’s already admitted that stop lying to yourself [name]. Why does he even want me over the person who actually played as him? None of this makes any sense. 

“I - No I wouldn’t, actually could I ask you some questions too? Just y’know, try to get my head around all of this.”

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t ask me any, I mean right now? You’re treating me more like an actual person than anyone else ever has.” 

“...”

“Where would you like to start then honeybee? We can take this at your pace, you’re in full control here.”

Where should I start? There are so many different things I want answers to, I could stay here for hours just talking to him to find out everything; now that I think on that, it’s not like I have anything else planned today. I could simply just stay here for a bit and talk, it’s probably the safer option too. If I don’t, do I really want to test the sanity of a sentient game character, no. 

“Um, if it’s all up to me then. Can I ask when you first became aware? Of the fact that you’re you know, a character in a game.”

“Oh, that? Well, it was about three months ago now, two or so weeks before you played with them. They really just saw me as a toy, not caring if I got hurt or anything, which is fair they never knew I was anything more than that; but you didn’t know either and you treated me like a person. You always apologised whenever I took any damage, never tried to get me hurt for your own pleasure or replace me as soon as you could. It was only a matter of time until I started to want you, then it was fairly easy to get eyes in your phone.”

“You've got ‘eyes in my phone?’ what do you mean by that.”

He looks so pleased right now like he wanted me to ask that exact question, it’s such a smug look on his face too. There’s something else to it as well, I can’t pinpoint what but there is certainly another look on his face. With how emotive he is it really doesn’t feel like this is some kind of sick joke, he’s too alive.

“That’s one of the things I’m most proud of!! It was pretty easy when you linked your phone to their switch to download a photo, I just made part of that connection a bit more personal and permanent. I promise I didn’t listen in on anything too private, I swear on Nintendo that I’m not like Cia. I promise.”

“Moving on from… that then. Why’s the real reason you wanted to be with me like this, I mean I get the feeling there’s more to it than you’re letting on.”

“You caught me I actually wa-”

The scowl that crossed his face when he was interrupted by the doorbell was unlike the cheery demeanour he’s been using, it’s almost like he’s angry or jealous of me having my attention split from him; it barely lasts a second though. Before his face swaps to one of remorse possibly because he got so irritated over something so trivial, that needs my focus more than he does right now. 

“I think you already know, but I should go check that. I’ll only be a couple of minutes, it’s probably nothing after all.”

Not even a word, just a nod and a look of rejection as if he was a cat I’d had to move off of me when I turned to go and answer the door. True to my word it wasn’t something that going to take long, simply signing for a couple of parcels. It only took me a few minutes to collect it and then start heading back to my room, I’ll be able to open them while I talk to Link after all. Really it would be cruel to make him wait after everything else he’s been through, even if he’s been monitoring… most of my movements, is it bad that I still feel bad after knowing that?

A shrill yelp followed by a shattering sound right when I was about to go back in wasn’t the best sign, the worst thing is that this time there wasn’t a digital overlay. Did someone break in - or break out? Only one way to find out.

“Honeybee? I - I’m sorry I - I really was trying to keep it in one piece.”

He’s out of the game.

Link is in my room bawling his eyes out because he accidentally broke my LED screen, the hero of hyrule is standing in my bedroom crying his eyes out because he broke a piece of glass. Earlier there was always a feeling of him trying to come off as likeable to me, to the point where it was manipulative, he wouldn’t even consider the idea of me not liking him. Now it’s like he’s having a panic attack at the possibility that I won’t like him because he broke my monitor. 

“I - I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please - just - I - I didn’t mean to break it.”

“Link -”

“My clothes would probably be worth a fortune to someone right? I - I mean it’s an actual set of armour from the Hyrulian forces - it’s real chainmail. If you sell it - it’ll more than make up the cost, right? You won’t hate me if I did that, right?”

“Link. I don’t hate you, it was an accident and even if it wasn’t I would forgive you.”

That seemed to snap him out of it, if only a little; he’s still crying but now he’s not rambling about ways to make it up to me. He clearly seems to want me, even if I still don’t entirely get why so maybe I could; opening my arms proves the fact that he really does just want some affection. Waiting wasn’t even on the cards as he practically dove into my arms barely seconds after looking at me for permission. 

“You really don’t hate me then? Really? Even though I’m not as good as the other games?”

“I don’t hate you for wanting to get out of what was essentially your prison or - you being as good as the other games? Your game is different but it’s just as good”

“But - you and your friend both said it. I - I’m not canon. You still treated me well that‘s why I fell for you, but I’m still - I’m still less than the other games. So I just, I really wanted to prove to you that I can be the only one for you [name]”

Stroking his hair seems to be calming him down now, the tears are slowing and his breathing is evening out the longer I stay here with him; only a few more moments until I should be able to get some answers from him. Adjusting to having a roommate might be a little strange, he really does seem nice though, nicer than anyone else I’ve ever met. Wait no I’ve only really just met him, why am I already thinking about that? It’s something to consider for certain - oh come on, just admit to yourself that you love this. He cares so why not see where it all goes?

“Canon just describes the story, it doesn’t change anything about you and I’m sorry if it’s ever seemed like that link. Come on, I'll clean the glass up, then you can finish explaining things okay?”

“No wait, it’s my fault, let me clean it up for you. If nothing else, please honey.”

“You don’t have to, it’s not a bother.”

So he already knows his teary puppy face can get me to agree to anything, he’s been here for less than a few hours and it already feels like we’re in a relationship as he knows me inside out… Which makes sense given that he has been watching me through my phone. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad if I stopped fighting against what he’s offering.  The gloves he’s wearing make picking up shards less painful than it would be otherwise, doesn’t take him that long either.

Long enough for something to flicker on my switch, but that can wait.

[mortarpestle]

ortolan

Short piece with professional chef!sukuna and younger kitchen porter reader. Title taken from the very brutal and illegal French delicacy of the same name, which one must hide their face to eat.

word count: 1.7k

*no curses au, age gap (chefkuna is in his 30s and reader is in their early 20s), employer-employee power imbalance, petnames ("kid", "brat"), Sukuna is intense, reader smokes right off the bat and is…a lil grim and unexpectedly Freudian?? Idk what happened here, suggestive themes ahead.

An angry red flake falls off the tip of your cigarette. It sways and loses some of its brightness on its way to the ground, succumbing to a puddle next to your feet. There's a couple more puffs left before you inevitably reach the filter, maybe double that amount if you're frugal with it. A few stolen breaths to catch until dinner rush.

You hate this fucking job.

You also know that by the time you clock out and return to your apartment, you’ll collapse on your bed with the prospect of a new shift working your nerves into a frenzy. Talk about an abusive relationship. Effectively stockholm syndromed by cutting boards and sous vides—and your boss.

Sukuna seems to have that effect on people.

Behind you, the back door creaks open. Heavy footsteps stamp down the stairs, coming to a stop by your makeshift ashtray. For a few precious seconds you’re content with counting the flour spots staining his black clogs (expensive brand, sleek, better than yours). He smells like his food; spicy, complex and a little smoky. The perks of working 14 hour shifts at a restaurant with high end cuisine and an even higher tax bracket among its customers, is that you’re afforded the luxury of smelling like a human being. No deep frier mystery oil notes clinging onto skin and clothes for you and especially him. You stifle a rather unsavoury thought about his cologne and inhale bitter smoke.

"You'll fry your lungs with that shit, kid."

Despite the distance, he sounds closer than you’d like, closer than you can handle having him. You don’t mean to shiver. Or for him to notice.

"That's the plan."

Every word coming out of your mouth makes you more conscious of your worldliness. Primarily your lack thereof. Speaking to your boss never ceases to make you seem like a peevish child in comparison. The little nickname he insists on using just for you doesn’t help either.

Sukuna doesn’t reply and your stomach churns.

"You don't smoke...why are you out here." You continue, painfully aware of your appearance.

"Don’t get it twisted. I should be the one asking you that. I can think of ten different things you should be doing before traffic picks up instead of getting cozy by the trash.”

The buildup sweat from the kitchen stovetops is slowly settling over your skin. Seated on one of the plastic crates left by your local produce supplier, you feel like a proper rat. What a picture to paint for the man singlehandedly responsible for funding your life.

Getting back to work is the lesser of the two evils you’re presented with. Still, one more smoke before shift's end sounds like a dream. You slip a stick out of the tobacco case tucked inside your apron pocket, taking his silence as permission to light it between your lips.

You smile.

"What's your vice, boss?"

Sukuna clicks his tongue. "Wouldn't you like to know."

He doesn't seem too offended. After working under him for nearly a year you've come to find that Sukuna is a man who is hard to surprise and equally as tricky to offend. Good at hiding it too, when he wants to. Which is why you ask again, be it a bad idea or not.

"Everybody has one. I've never met a professional chef without a few loose screws, so what is it?" Maybe you could've phrased that last better. You're too tired to care.

He mulls over your question without really giving into it. He’s awfully compliant today. Normally he would've chewed your ear off at the second cigarette.

Something’s off.

"I trust you include yourself in that crowd you speak of."

“Not really. I’m not a professional.”

(Ash stings your fingertips, but you refuse to let go.)

"You've got potential." He says, low and succinct.

You choke on your spit, laughing in earnest, "Sure.” Potential for cutting vegetables and cleaning after other people’s messes, maybe.

"I mean it, kid."

Sukuna leans against the railing, arms folding over his chest. One long glance out of the corner of your eye grants you with an intimate view of his tattoos. All these months you've been catching glimpses of the full design, unable to tell where it ends beneath the black fabric. Not a single hair is out of place. His uniform is rolled up just above his elbows, exposing tanned skin with tiny burn marks littered over hard muscle, no doubt from his early training years. He wears them like medals of honour.

The first thing you did after landing a position in his kitchen was googling his name. Ryomen Sukuna is fifteen years older than you and begrudgingly, the only thing standing between you and quitting as soon as tomorrow.

You’re no stranger to unwanted urges, the occasional intrusive thought. It’s human, you are human and therefore unjustly robbed of any sovereignty over your unconscious and its whims. You don’t think much of it. Even when you take your rare bathroom breaks outside peak hours, only to find that you’ve soaked through your underwear just from glances and strict instructions thrown your way. What does that say about you as a person? You don’t intend to figure it out today.

It's a classic case of treating the symptoms and not the source of your disease. Pretending he doesn’t exist outside of the physical place you both work at won’t get you very far. It won’t take long for the tide to turn over. Sukuna doesn’t play with his food. Only with the people tasked with preparing it.

You tug at a stray piece of lint on your chest, playing with the cotton ball over the flame of your lighter.

"If boss says it."

"Don't call me that." he all but sneers at you over your shoulder. His voice is grating when he wants it to be. You don’t flinch, not even when you turn around to catch the stare he’s drilling into your slouched back. On a second thought you don’t think he’s taken his eyes off of it since he he stepped out to join you. His stare is violence. He makes you want to crawl out of your own skin for comfort.

Working within a kitchen hierarchy is much like having a father; you get used to raised voices and empty threats whether you like it or not. With Sukuna creeping around the counters, you also learn to not talk back if you know what’s best for you. You consider yourself lucky to have never stood on the receiving end of anything more severe than a scolding. Then again, you’re not important enough in the grand scheme of it all, and you make a point to take advantage of that as often as you can.

"Are you not?" you sneer back.

"I'm quitting," Sukuna bares his teeth at you, "Expected to be gone by next week."

You bet he’s enjoying the look on your face. Surprised stupid.

"Pick your jaw up off the ground, s'not a good look on you."

You collect your thoughts and try to convince him that this doesn’t change everything for you. "Can I have your knives? The fancy Japanese ones you keep inside the office safe."

"You better keep your mouth shut and listen to what I have to say before I change my mind you brat." His voice commands you to look at him, "I'm not retiring. I'm opening my own joint and I want you to join me."

You feel nauseous.

"Why."

You've never been one to count your blessings, mainly because it's not worth doing so when you can do it on only one hand. Everyone says your early 20s are hell, the trenches of adulthood. No second-hand warnings and half assed attempts at lukewarm life lessons could've prepared you for the slump you hit after graduating college. Money is tight as it's always been, only now you've got twice the amount of problems and half the support.

The job advertisement was a beacon of good luck amidst a sea of bad decisions.

You had to fight tooth and nail to get through the first week (hell week, objectively the worst time in any hospitality job) without any power or warm water in your apartment after missing the payment deadline. Sukuna noticed—not like it was hard to, given that you looked like shit fresh into your employment—and slid you an early paycheck tucked inside an envelope on lunch break. A week's worth of dailies in an employment contract that only guarantees monthly wages.

You could cry.

(You did. In front of him.)

(He looked so distraught he almost snatched it back.)

"You're good, honest. Smart yet a little stupid, but even that's necessary to get by in the business. Like I said you have potential and I want you in my kitchen when you see it through."

"I think," you start.

Sukuna gives you a sly smile, mumbling a barely audible “Is that so” with his eyes narrowed down to slits.

"—You're only doing this out of spite. Stealing Gojo's staff is dirty work."

"Started that sentence on the wrong foot. You think I’d sabotage my own shit just to get back at that fraud? Most of the guys he's got back there working for him don't even know how to grill chicken without fucking up."

Yes. Yes, you do believe he’d do that, but opt to keep the thought to yourself. You’re sure Sukuna would kill the guy if he were guaranteed to get away with it. Gojo is an angel investor in name and nothing else.

"I'll give you a week, no more no less. Sit on it, let it marinade in that little head of yours and have your answer ready by morning shift." He pushes off the railing to take his leave. Halfway up the steps he backtracks to reach you, snatches the cigarette out of your fingers and takes a long drag, draining the leftover tobacco inside the poorly rolled paper. After he's done, he licks his lips and kisses his front teeth to taste your saliva, humming in satisfaction.

Kicking away the crate, you get up on baby fawn legs, half numb from being folded over yourself for so long. They tremble, a blink and you’ll miss it movement. Sukuna’s limp hand twitches by his side.

He’s about to leave for good when you speak again, moving towards him.

"You never answered my question.”

What's your vice?

Sukuna stumps your cigarette on the brick wall next to your head. His words are low, barely audible over the commotion slipping through the open door.

"Be good and I might just show you in practice."

[psicheanima]

I find myself thinking frequently about something which is not real, so I am not certain what the thought itself consists in. Yet, I know that everyone is involved or scheming behind my back - without me being made privy to their plans - but I am well aware of the animosity. It is painful. I do know.

Could it be a conspiracy? I don’t know. But it hurts me. I am aware of the dislike towards me. I have not mistaken it. It is something that is being contrived and hatched, and which I am not a part of. I believe my enemies are in cahoots to do me harm. I understand them. They hate me.

Perhaps it is nothing but an illusion! I cannot know for certain — I am clueless about any life that has been lived. What do I know? Perhaps I am too cynical and it is only my own imagination that people want to harm me. I see conspiracies at every turn. And perhaps it is not real. I am not certain, I am just being paranoid.

No. It is a sham. It is all fabricated — the entire landscape is nothing but a lie. We should abandon it, we can no longer endure it. It is becoming unbearable. It is such a terrible place here. The surroundings are artificial; it is all make believe. It is time to throw in the towel, as it has become unbearable. It is so horrible here.

Staying here anymore is too much — it is time to escape to outer space right at this moment! It is no longer habitable here! I mean to begin anew on a remote planet where the water-courses are of gold and the air impregnated with sulphurous vapours. The atmosphere burns in my chest like sunburnt flesh - I feel I am roasting on a spit.

A galaxy star meat boy - I'm being raised to please aliens? Is this my life? No - no - this can't be - people detest me — must these aliens have taken me? No - they are so friendly — their faces so affable. I can't believe it -- their smiles! -- I've found a family to embrace me; the universe is no longer empty and my life has value.

We were both sitting on the bed. I was happy. I was still very new to everything. I'd lost all shame. I felt as if I'd discovered the way to be happy in life, and I was certain of the truth of what I'd been told, that I was loved, that I would be happy, that I had only to keep quiet and not talk about what I had been told: that life was beautiful, that we made our own happiness, that it was simple as longas one was loved.

But as I sat there, happy, proud, I became conscious of a slow, persistent, gentle pressure on my left side. Something was being removed from me; I wasn't sure what. I was still quite naive. This thing, whatever it was, they said they loved. At first I did nothing. The extraction continued, and my contentment gradually ebbed with it. The feeling of being emptied, deprived, was not painful - merely an absence of pleasure. And then I started to realise that I did not want to lose it.

A part of me is gone, an absence where only the shadow of sensation remains. However, all is not lost. My cats amuse me, and I can still take pleasure in their comical antics. My mundane life as a market-gardener proceeds thus: I wish to eat a dish that has never been cooked; I want to be clothed with garments cut to my measure; I would like to lie on distant meadowland in high hills. Such songs I would hear that have not been sung before — such joy I want to know; so much life do I crave.

Can it be right that one who is detested longs so intensely? Is there a limit? I ask — perhaps you will tell me – but this is what I feel: I should have the answer. Someone like me, who is unconnected, who's not at all involved, should have an explanation.

That is all it seems to be; the answer is that we’re not involved, and we can return home and sleep. We are a tired person. I suddenly yawned, a long, gaping yawn: the tears trembled in my eyes ready to fall. I felt I had never felt so sleepy in all my life.

I love you! Let’s meet each other as soon as we can! I love you in daylight, by the moonlight and at any time! Thank you for your words. I'm alright, I can manage. I shall sleep, it will help, it will be alright. I am here now and when I wake it will be alright. I shall still be here for a while.

Oh, how long is that, then? To be here? Oh… Well.

In my way, I'm devoted to all of you.

But please don't hate me...it's all just verse.

[moonfruito]

have not stopped thinking about this moment btw. i will surely have coherent thoughts and contributions after a while but i am just. processing. god. you don't get it vyncent struggles with his words so much it is so hard for him to express his feelings so he always chooses to express himself through his actions instead. "i'm not going to leave you now i'm here" is as good as a declaration for him. the devotion to keeping william safe from himself, the assertion that he is going to be by his side in spite of everything that william has done and is going to do. vyncent headbutted the guard without a second thought because william asked him to. vyncent punched david because he hurt william and didn't care. vyncent yelling at william's parents because will asked him to get them out of the room for the conversation. will's mother calling vyncent his bodyguard. the absoluteness with which vyncent stays resolutely with william throughout the episode because he failed to do it before. william has been his worst self and vyncent saw it, and he chose to stay when william said he was going to do it again. william tried to push vyncent away. he was about to do the only thing that he did to xavier that vyncent truly did not know the extent of. vyncent chose to stay. vyncent has seen the worst and most twisted parts of william, insisted on seeing them, and at the end of it all, the last line of the episode before bizly calls it is condi saying "i follow behind." and the thing is william recognises how significant it is that vyncent is saying he won't leave. he chokes up. he has to repeat it to himself to process it. and of course it means a lot to him in the sense of his friend who has seen the most fucked up parts of him staying by his side and refusing to let him be alone in his mistakes, but this is also the guy he's half in love with. and somehow, in spite of everything, he's not fucked it. i don't think vyncent is conscious, fully, or maybe is trying not to be aware, of why he so committed to william. i don't think william is in a state where he can even comprehend how much vyncent cares for him. i don't know if he consciously recognises what vyncent means when he says this. but the significance is not lost on him.

[bellewintersroe]

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader.

Part 10 wooohooo thank you for all your support I appreciate it massively!!! Don’t worry if this story has slowed down a little it’s going to pick right back up (without any spoilers 😉). Also I’m hating using the use of y/n it’s making me cringe, it’s too late to add a name to this character isn’t it 😭😭

Tension still continues between Daniel and her. Neither of their pain seems to be subsiding, and it’s safe to say Max is becoming semi-aware of their situation…

Warnings: talk of alcohol, mentions of a previous panic attack but nothing graphic, maybe some swearing? The next chapter will be HEAVYYYY, spicy, arguments, angst, crying omfg I am excited to write it so stay tuned 🤫

The first night she’d slept properly was after her panic attack, tiring her to the point of exhaustion as she passed out listening to all the cliche, heartbreak songs, Celine Dion was on the top of her list. The following few nights were hit or miss depending on sleep, luckily, right before Penelope’s 4th birthday party she’d managed to have a good sleep meaning she was pretty much raring to go.

She’d decided there’d be absolutely no tears and awkward interactions between Daniel and her, they’d texted a couple of times when he was checking if she was okay, but that was the extent of it. She couldn’t spend anymore time thinking about the man, nor could he spend any less time thinking about her. She plagued his mind, he felt like he was going absolutely crazy.

Struggling to carry the large bag full of barbies and the dream house she’d bought for the young one, Max ran over in amusement, taking the large present from her grasp. “Hi! Thank you, Max.” She offered him a quick hug. “What have you bought her, a car?!”

“Barbies of course!” “P’s gonna go crazy when she sees this. How are you anyway? Better after the other day?” She laughed out of embarrassment at his question. “I’m completely fine now, sorry I had to run away.” I shook my head. “No it’s fine, as long as you’re okay.” Max wasn’t an idiot, neither was Kelly. Neither was P.

“P was just concerned that’s all.” He patted her back with his free hand as smiled gently. “She’s excited to see you, P!” Max called out. “Look who’s here!”

“I’m excited to see her- oh my god! Is that the birthday girl?!” She fell to her knees at the little one ran into her arms, giddy with her birthday excitement. “Happy birthday, P!” She gave her a squeeze as P jumped back. Daniel watched with a gentle smile, his hand tightening around the grip on his beer bottle as his heart crumbled at the sight.

Meanwhile, she had to yet to see him there. She squealed with excitement, clapping as P did a spin her adorable dress. When she did say her hello’s she was speaking mainly with Kelly and a bunch of women she’d met a handful of times before. She was relieved to see her friends already there, somehow the thought of walking in somewhere was still intimidating to her. Through the whole evening her and Daniel didn’t speak once, they were on the opposite side of the garden all night, she stuck with her friends and he stuck with his. It somehow made Daniel feel more awkward than ever, and he wasn’t sure if it was a conscious effort on her behalf to speak to basically everybody but him. It hurt deep inside of him, it stung at his heart harsher than anything he’d felt before and a weird sickness would fill him every time he thought of how she’d avoided him. Daniel didn’t want it to be like that, if they couldn’t be together then surely they could be as close as they were before?

Daniel would always drive her places, grabbing her smoothies, and they’d always manage to find one another snickering in the most inappropriate moments. She’s sought him out after races where they’d gossip together, giggling at all the influencers there who had no clue what the hell was going on. Daniel never thought he’d miss when they were just friends, but the separation and distance between the pair felt uncomfortably cold. Another person who noticed this was Max. Odd little things had been happening, first y/n runs off crying, then Daniel looks like a sad puppy lingering around. He couldn’t help but recognise how the two didn’t speak, it was insightful, maybe he was looking too hard into it, but to Max it was blatantly obvious they were upset at one another. “You alright?” He approached the Australian man who was just preparing to leave. “Yeah, yeah, had a good time, thanks for the invite man.” Of course Daniel smiled in response.

“Something going on with you and y/n?” Max openly asked, Daniel was stunned, momentarily speechless. Maybe it was the alcohol, but Max blurted out the question quicker than he intended to. “Y/n?” Daniel flinched. “She was just a bit upset the other day, that’s all. I talked to her about it.” He scratched the back of her neck, partly avoiding Max’s question. The Dutchman decided against pressing him on the topic. The slight avoidance of the question struck Max as odd.

“Is she okay?” Daniel went to wince again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure she is.” Although he wasn’t sure at all. She seemed good today, he was glad, but surely if she was over this whole thing she would’ve spoken to him… maybe he should’ve made the first move? Oh god, his mind was overthinking like crazy, even messier with Max’s straightforwardness. That evening it was Daniel’s turn to listen to pathetically cliche heartbreak songs.

A couple days later, after qualifying, she was there again. Daniel had just gained the 6th fastest lap time, however his track time was then deleted for exceeding track limits. It was a nightmare, she found herself going from cheering to stood in disappointment. She knew Daniel wouldn’t be so happy, he’d probably take it on the chin but 6th was incredible, especially to say he was driving a tractor.

That day, her feelings had warmed up to Daniel. It’s like seeing him again at P’s birthday rid some of the anger that contaminated her previously. Once she’d spoken to both Checo and Max, she noticed Daniel lingering not far away, he’d just been talking with her dad once he’d returned over from the Alpha Tauri garage.

He walked so close besides her, and he didn’t even notice her at first, until she stood up from tying her shoe lace and they were all of a sudden face to face. “Hi Daniel.” She borderline squeaked and he felt his stomach knot and flip. “Hey, you alright?” He scanned over her face. She looked good today, not so tired.

“I’m good.” She turned away. “How about you?” Her hand raised to shield the sun from her face, actually looking him dead in the eye now. “Ah, I’m okay.” He seemed to shrug, and for a second it was a little awkward. When she scanned over his face she could feel her stomach flipping.

“You did good today, I mean- I know the whole thing with the track limits happened, but to get initially to 6th is so good.” She spoke, shrugging her shoulders timidly. “Thank you.” His voice was gentle, slightly hoarse, his chest ached so desperately for her, he yearned for her so longingly.

“Red Bull 2024’s looking promising.” She commented light heartedly, even forcing a small breath of laughter as his lips twitched up softly. “Ah, I don’t know.” He dug his foot into the ground as her smile, too, faded and she glanced over him before down to the floor. It was awkward. And it was about to get 10x more awkward when Christian walked over. “What’re you two flirting about?!” Daniel felt breathless at the fathers comment, he was positive his cheeks were already burnt up. “Dad.” She scoffed out a laugh, playfully nudging his arm away. Daniel forced a laugh.

“I’ll see you both later.” He gave Christian a friendly smack on the arm before heading off in the opposite direction and not sparing her another glance. She winced at the action, unknown to the pain that rattled through Daniel’s chest.

“What was that all about?” Christian asked, eyeing up between Daniel and his daughter. Again, she winced, cringing at the thought of having to explain anything.

“I was just speaking to him about the qualifying.” She shrugged, although her tone wasn’t so convincing. “You’re both blushing.” He narrowed his eyes, an amused smile forming on his face. She knew what he’d do, tease her to death, despite being completely blind to everything else that had already happened.

“No im not!” She defended, spluttering and raising a hand to her obviously burning cheek. “Yeah you are! Look I know you might fancy Daniel a little but-“

“Stop, I’m not 12.” She grimaced. “He is a great bloke is Daniel, anyway.” Oh my god. She officially wanted the ground to swallow her up. Not only had her dad said this to her, but he ensured Max Verstappen was in right in the firing point, overhearing all the conversation.

Max oddly looked like he’d seen a ghost, he was slowly puzzling everything together and now he was convinced that y/n and Daniel were secretly doing it behind everybody’s backs. The girl in the hotel room, the ‘discreet’ love bite on her collarbone, the hushed conversations- Max was a genius!

“I knew it!” He stormed over, filled with excitement. As soon as Christian had left the scene, he was bursting to expose the secret he’d discovered. “Know what?!” She turned in surprise.

“You and Daniel, you’re together!” Oh fuck. She felt her eyes bulge and heart begin pounding. “What?! No, no, Max, no we’re not.” His smile faded seeing as how hushed she was being about it. “You’re not?!”

“No! I mean- no…” “But I’ve seen it, I’ve heard you both.” She cringed again at his words and knew there was no denying, she just needed to quieten him.

“No- I mean yes, but we’re not anymore. Please, please don’t say a word.” An odd sense of panic washed through her, Max was stunned, staring back to the anxious looking girl. Her eyes looked the exact same way they did at the race track the other day.

“I-I won’t. Are you ok?” “I’m fine, I am. Just please don’t say anything, you can tell Kelly just not a soul else.” She pleaded, luckily she knew Max was a man of his words. It felt oddly freeing to get the secret off her chest, it’s like it had been waiting to just be blurted out the whole time. Now it really felt real, the whole thing was semi out in the open, did it make her bad to be exposing something she promised to keep secret?? The thought would eat her alive, but so did the secrecy surrounding her, very much, public sadness…

———————————————————————

🫨🫨🫨🫨

@dinodumbass @mccall-muffin @allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @ricciardhoe-3 @headinthecloudssblog

[m00npill]

[Transcript] Fallen Angels

FALL OUT BOY'S ULTRA-AMBITIOUS NEW ALBUM WILL MAKE THEM ONE OF THE WORLD'S BIGGEST BANDS. SO HOW COME PETE WENTZ IS STILL SO DEPRESSED?

source: x the other page missing ;-;

2007 Kerrang! No.1142

PETE WENTZ is an hour late.

Because of this the first thing you learn about Fall Out Boy is that nothing happens without him. His three other bandmates - singer and guitarist Patrick Stump, guitarist Joe Trohman and drummer Andy Hurley - sit waiting. They're in a conference room on the first floor of the Marriott Hotel in Lowell, Massachusetts, a pretty, vanilla flavoured town 60 minutes north of Boston. The reason the group are here is because in three hours they're due to play four songs in front of 8,000 people gathered to watch the local radio station's Christmas concert. But first they're forced to wait. Because picturing Fall Out Boy without Pete Wentz is like imagining a motorway without traffic.

"See, that's not right," says Patrick Stump. Stump is wearing a small frown and an indulgent smile. It's been said that he has no ego. As you hear him now he's checking out his own entry page on Wikipedia. "No, see, they've got that wrong...

We don't have much time. Fall Out Boy landed at Roston's Logan airport at 4pm. This lunchtime they were in Chicago; by dawn they'll be in Manhattan. The band's ride pulled up in Lowell an hour ago. It's now 6:30. At 9:25, they're due onstage. Before that they need to pose for photographs and answer questions.

"Pete's in his room," someone says. Andy Hurley goes downstairs to the toilet, taking a security guard with him. Fall Out Boy have two security men: one for Pete Wentz, one for the others.

Wentz calculates that he spends 40 minutes out of every hour on the phone. He receives up to a 100 emails a day. He owns a film production company. He's a published author. He owns his own record label. He owns his own clothing line. He's modelled for Gap. He'd be modelling for us if he could be bothered to be here.

But Pete is in his room, laid low with depression. He's sat on the floor "calling random people from [his] home town [Wilmette, Illinois]", people whom he believes will "understand [him]". Problem is, when they pick up the phone he "can't think of a thing to say". All the while it's getting later and later. He feels self-conscious about how to time his entry, aware that he might be thought of as "the asshole American guy in a band". Even now, two and a half hours later, these feelings are still resident in his mind. "It's weird," he'll say. "Although I'm functioning, half of my head is in another place.

Do you see how people might look at you, see your wealth and your privilege and your opportunities, and think: you ungrateful son of a bitch?

"Of course," he says. "I think that all the time. But you asked me about depression and so I'm talking about it. It's the culture we live in."

You don't seem to mind talking about it. "The only problem I have with it is that I don't want people to read this article and go, 'lt'd be so amazing to be depressed! That'd be cool!'. I don't want to create an industry of misery."

These days, Pete Wentz has prescriptions for Xanax, Praxil, Prozac and Ativan. To compliment this, he's taking serotonin reuptake inhibitors (more anti-depressants). In the past, he's been administered anti psychotics. If Wentz were to die tomorrow his coffin would need to be fitted with a child-proof lid.

"Sorry I'm late," he says, entering the conference room, shaking hands. "I'll be your self-conscious rock star for the day." Paul Harries, Kerrang!'s photographer, tells the bassist that we don't have much time. Pointing the lens at his face he tells him it'll need to see his full repertoire of poses. The subject understands precisely what the photographer means, and as the flash lights zap before him he gives him just that. The camera loves Pete Wentz, even if at the moment Pete Wentz hates himself.

He's depressed. You'd never know.

"NOT TO beat up on the press," says Joe Trohman. "But they do tend to take one look at our band and and say, Pete Wentz is Fall Out Boy." Trohman is answering a question as to whether it grates on his nerves that the band's bass player is the one who garners most of the public attention. "Not at all, no. Pete is the public face of the band because we want him to be the public face of the band.

Would you be screwed without him?

[outivv]

Can we get some separate headcanons of Xiao and wanderer with a Timid but kind reader?

Reader is extremely quite at first but show lots of act of service (like when they were injured, reader is the first one to try to help n stuff), and because of how timid and weak the reader look people always take advantage of themm(￣∇￣+)

It's alright if ya don't want to,have a nice dayy!^^

Synopsis: timid/ quiet reader who’s love language is acts of service!!

Warnings: not proofread

Characters: xiao, wanderer, and dehya

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello hello!! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you don’t mind me adding dehya, I just reallllly wanted to write for her :’). Anyways!! Hope you enjoy, and have a great rest of your day!!

— Xiao —

I think your more timid, and quiet personality mixes with xiao’s really well. I don’t know why but it’s givingggg power couple.

Anyways, I feel like xiao is pretty oblivious to your acts of service, he appreciates them but he doesn’t know why you’re doing them you know? Like when you help him with his wounds, or make him food, or do literally anything for him, he doesn’t understand… why.

You hum happily as you tend to xiaos clothes, mending them, and sewing back the tears in his clothes. Xiao watches from afar, seeing you so happy just… doing something for him. He doesn’t get it. Why are you being so nice to him? You even lent him some spare clothes you had, the thought of wearing clothes that are originally yours makes his cheeks flush. “Here you go!! All better now.” You say handing him his clothes and returning his thoughts to normal. Your sweet smile, and the way his clothes are gently folded- it’s all too much.

“Why do you do things for me?” He asks rather bluntly. Your smile drops, “what do you mean?” He glares, not out of malice, but out of frustration. He feels his question is rather silly to be honest, “I mean you help me when I’m wounded, you fix my clothes, you tidy my room at wangshu inn, and I don’t have to ask for any of it. Why do you do it?” Your blank face turns to one of pure adoration, and almost… pity, “because I care about you. Taking care of things, and people- it’s how I show love.” Your response isn’t what he expected, he honestly expected you were doing it an an exchange for your guaranteed protection. But in reality it was just as simple as… you loved him. He took his nicely folded clothes and disappeared, his heart racing, and face flushed. He hoped you didn’t notice before he left. 

I think after that encounter he gets much more flustered, and aware of your acts of service. He definitely appreciates it, and voices that appreciation in various ways. By checking in on you, idly hanging around you more, developing a crush on you you know. Simple things like that :)

He really hates that people take advantage of you, but he’s also very concerned that he’s doing the same… unintentionally JEGJEG. He’s like “that jerk just took advantage of [name] and I know it. Oh my god am I being a hypocrite right now? Am I doing the same as that jerk? Oh…” he’s very self conscious and worried that he’s taking advantage of you without realizing it. He’s not. You know he’s not.

— Wanderer —

Respectfully. He probably has told you to have a spine because of how often people take advantage of you. He’s harsh with his words, but they hold a strange sense of genuine concern, and care in them. He sees how these people hurt you, and he doesn’t want that of course, but he’ll express it in a way that comes off as much harsher than intended.

“I just don’t understand.” You say wiping your tears and sniffling. Wanderer sighs, and moves your hand from your face to wipe your tears himself, “I do. It’s because you don’t know how to tell others to do it themselves.” His usual glare is focused, worry pooling in his eyes, though he hides it very well. His heart may break a thousand times from seeing you cry, but you’ll never know that.

You look up at him, your tear filled eyes, and red face drenched in sorrow, and confusion as to why people are continuously walking all over you, how they have the audacity to do so. “I just… I wanna help people, I want to show them that I care.” You sob harder, your words broken up by hiccups. Wander thinks back to all the times you help him and his gaze softens, “people who have the sheer nerve to take advantage of you, don’t deserve your kindness. You need to actually have a backbone, and ignore them.” His words sting a bit, but you know he’s right. You wrap your arms about him to hug him, a sign of thanks for his advice.

He appreciates your help, and everything you do for him, but he’s the type to be like “no it’s fine I can do it myself” and be all stubborn even if… he can’t do it himself KEVEKEG. It’s rather annoying to be honest, you wanna showcase your feelings for him, and you can only do that in a simple way, and he won’t let you because of his own pride!!

He does let you do some things for him though. Mostly just things he doesn’t necessarily know how to do, like I feel like he isn’t superb at writing. Not that he’s bad at it per say, but he just isn’t great at it. So when you write him things, or write for him, he’s very appreciative. :)

— Dehya —

Strong independent woman!! Who will crumble by the fact that you so kindly do things for her, and enjoy doing them, and ahh. Dehya is a big acts of service person, it’s one of her main love languages too, so if you’re trying to tell her you love her (in a platonic/romantic way) then she absolutely loves it.

Dehya returns to your camp to notice food freshly made, clothes folded, and tents and beds made. “[name] did you really do all this while I was gone?” Dehya asks astonished. You turn around from folding another pair of clothes “hm? Oh yes!! I wanted to get some stuff done so we could enjoy ourselves. We’ve been traveling for a while, and while you were gone completing a commission, I just thought I’d be helpful…” a smile grows on dehya’s face at your words, her heart swells with all the love in the world for you.

I feel like dehya would try to do the same for you in a way. I don’t know how to explain but you both do things for each other, and it’s just a never ending cycle of basically saying “I LOVE YOU” “I LOVE YOU MORE” “NO I LOVE YOU MORE” “NO THATS IMPOSSIBLE I LOVE YOU THE MOST” “NO I-“ you get what I’m saying.

No one dares to take advantage of you, especially by the mere mention of dehya’s name :), so thankfully, you don’t have to worry about that.