#i know you inspired me to do this but i don't want you to feel pressured to put in any extra work

[honeyblackberries]

In the back seat (18+)

caleb x fem reader/mc smut

minors dni | inspired by diet pepsi by addison rae | cross-posted to ao3

word count: 1466

cw: simp caleb, soft dom caleb, he also likes to bite, pantie freak caleb, reader enables him, praise, oral (fem receiving), p in v, responsible car sex <333 (don't get freaky in a rental car irl), irresponsible intercourse (caleb doesn’t wrap it before he taps it), porn with feelings, porn no plot because idk how to write plot but i also can’t really write porn so maybe this is a secret third thing, no set pov.

names used: pips (pipsqueak but cuter), good girl, pretty girl, my girl

If Caleb is being honest with himself this moment is something straight out of his teenage fantasies. Driving along the coast with you in the passenger's seat, listening as you sing along to a song that’s been on repeat for the past half hour. Hair softly blowing in the wind as the late afternoon sun glows behind you like a halo.

You’re an angel he thinks, how else could you bless him with such a gift on one of his rare days off. The keys to his dream car—with the disclaimer that it was only a rental during his visit to Linkon—and that short sundress… His gaze unconsciously drifts from the road and onto you.

Maybe wet dreams are a better description for this. The way the hem of your dress rides up your thighs while you shift to find a more comfortable position, cotton panties peeking out underneath it.

Your eyes meet his and Caleb feels his pants tighten.

Today was supposed to be a well deserved break from all the demands that come with being the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel. Something relaxing. Yet he can’t help but feel inclined to the complete opposite. Back ramrod straight and hand, previously loose and confident on the wheel, now gripping it so tight that his knuckles strain.

“I'm happy you’re here,” you say sweetly and he has to stop himself from acting like a horny dog. “Is there anything you wanna do before we head home?”

“Eat you out,” he thinks dreamily.

“..What?”

Shit. Shit. How could he say that out loud!? He’s an idiot, a depraved fool—

“Well, okay.”

He almost crashes the car.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to—I mean—I didn’t mean to say it out loud,” you laugh at him and he isn’t sure whether to be mortified or turned on.

“Pull over.” He does.

Caleb doesn’t realise it but despite the less than innocent circumstances his silly reaction makes you smile. Happy at the expression that settles on his handsome face. How his eyes light up in a way you never really see anymore, giddy and unrestrained.

‘Cute,’ you want to tease, but he’s already rolling the tinted windows up. Undoing his seatbelt and moving into the back seat. Oh how could you keep him waiting when he’s just so eager? You undo your own seatbelt and amusedly follow along. Moving to get on top of him.

“Don’t hover pips,” he instructs—in that know-it-all voice he’s used since you were kids—and you don’t get the chance to consider it. Not when his hands trail under your skirt to grab your thighs and impatiently bring you down onto his face.

“Fuck you smell so good,” his nose presses right against your clothed heat. He inhales deeply. “I could get off just from smelling you, just from smelling these,” his lips part to let teeth graze the thin fabric of your panties.

“I can keep 'em when we're done, yeah?” His hot breath makes a shiver run through you in anticipation. His tongue licks down the centre where a wet patch starts to form. “I’ll cook dinner in return.”

You want to argue that he always cooks dinner. But you want what he’s currently offering more.

Your small hum of agreement is all he needs.

Safe to say, Caleb does mouth at you like a dog. Desperate, hungry, tongue heavy and slobbering. You have to push yourself against his chest to keep steady. The toned muscles there flexing as he eats like he’s been starved.

“Good girl, sittin’ so pretty for me,” his praise is barely understandable. Voice muffled and lower than a moment ago.

One of his hands leaves your thighs, his fingers moving to the fabric separating you. He teasingly pulls it back and lets go, a light snap against your skin. You flinch and he chuckles in response. He then pushes it to the side to expose you bare to him. Continuing to lick, this time with the addition of his thumb rubbing directly against your sensitive bud.

“Delicious,” he moans at the taste and sucks at your clit for more.

You’re not sure how long you last before everything crashes down all at once. Your orgasm racking your body and leaving you trembling. Dripping right into his open mouth.

The way your breath hitches and small whines you make when you cum always remind him how he could spend the rest of his life between your thighs. Forever wanting you pliant in his hold like this.

As you start to feel yourself coming down from the high, Caleb lightly bites at your tender flesh, making you yelp. He places a soft kiss in apology, even though you both know he isn’t sorry in the slightest.

In an act of revenge you start to reach for where he needs it. Fingertips barely brushing the large tent in his pants before he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Next time pips, I’ll go crazy if I’m not inside you soon.” At that you’re suddenly flipped around, back pressed against the leather seat. Wedged in the cramped space afforded to you between the car and his large body.

Caleb looks down at you with a wide grin. The lower half of his face damp with your arousal and his own saliva.

“Let me put it in?”

Even when he’s like this the words come out as a question. He’ll only do it if you let him, only if you want it half as much as he does. His silver necklace dangles in front of you and reflected in it is your lips, curled up into an affirmative.

Caleb wastes no time. Hurriedly undoing his pants and freeing his hard leaking cock. Leaning over you with one hand beside your head as the other grasps his reddened tip and nudges you panties to the side with it. Lining himself up he sinks into you slowly.

“You’re heaven,” he yaps, already pussy drunk. "You feel like heaven, ugh—like you were made for me. Weren’t you?”

He shakes his head at his own words, as if a better explanation came to him. Then he resolutely bottoms out inside you.

“No, I was the one made for you.”

“Caleb—” you whine at the feeling of being so full. Arms moving to wrap around his torso, not sure if to hold him closer or push him away.

He groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to fight off the orgasm that would have had him cumming from the way you say his name. Testingly, he pulls out slightly just to push back in. Repeating shallow thrusts to get you comfortable.

“More,” you beg.

“Of course,” he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him. “I aim to please.” His pace quickens, becoming rough. You can’t help but clench at the immediate change.

“Oh shit—loosen up pretty girl.” You try to.

Over and over you feel his cock try to make your cunt give in to him, and when he feels the grip of your walls ease up slightly he angles his hips to hit deeper.

You claw at his back, the fabric of his shirt catching under your fingers. The feeling of him too much.

“You like that huh?”

The car windows are fogging at the spike in body heat, neither of you letting up until you both get your fill. The sounds of shallow breathing and skin against skin the only thing that can be heard.

Caleb bites your lip when he kisses you in between thrusts. Like he wants to devour you in every way possible.

“I’m—close,” you bury your face into his neck, trying to ground yourself.

He nearly slips entirely out of you. Hips starting to lose their rhythm, a sign that he is too.

“I know—fuck—cum with me.”

Your release comes first, and he doesn’t last long after.

“That's my girl.”

His movements slow as he spills into you. A white ring forming around the base of him as a mix of both your cum tries to leak out. He grinds a few times to make sure it stays then collapses on top of you.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes, relishing in the feeling of your chests pressed together as you cool down. Caleb’s cock slowly going limp inside you.

His hands move to cradle your face, gently stroking your cheeks as he kisses all over with cherishing lightness.

“I love you.”

“Love you too Caleb.”

Then he has to go and ruin the moment.

“Panties please,” he holds out his hand. Asking for a treat.

You sigh, the post-nut clarity kicking in. “I’ll give it to you after I wash it.”

“Don’t wash it.”

“...”

a/n: rip need everyone to know this was initially supposed to be a sylus fic. also what do we think do we like me actually trying to make the layout nice/not write in all lowercase??

[laurenhufflepuff2]

my family speaks in mostly movie quotes, often from old Disney movies or shorts

"Thank you, jam" whenever I need to thank someone for handing me something (Disney's The Reluctant Dragon)

"here you are, Hazel" whenever I hand someone else something (Disney's Trick or Treat short) (this has confused people into thinking I thought their name was Hazel)

"I'm Sadness" (Inside Out) whenever I'm sad

"He doesn't love us anymore that's sad" (also Inside Out) whenever I feel ignored or brushed off

"alableh alableh alableh" whenever something is displeasing or disgusting (this is an impersonation of that one rabbit-frog alebrije from Coco)

"Negative, Ghost Rider" (I have no idea where this came from but it deserved to be on the list)

"Talk to me, Goose" (Topgun)

"No reward is worth this" (Star Wars, Han Solo) self-explanatory

"Well perhaps it'd save time if you took the whole- *whooshing noise*- ...jar" (The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh) I don't know how to explain when this one is used but it gets used a lot

"You gotta work hard to get your restaurant" (adapted from Princess and the Frog) it's our version of "eat your Wheaties"

"That devil box tells you nothing but lies!" Whenever we see misinformation online (from Coco)

"is it much farther, Papa Smurf? not far now." (this repeats two to three times, followed by) "yes it is! So Smurf up!" (the Smurfs TV show from the 80s- Sorcerer Smurf) usually used on road trips or hikes

"I know you're talking about me, Destiny" (Finding Dory) self-explanatory

"Why you want to leave me!?" (My Big Fat Greek Wedding) whenever my brother talks about moving out

"Hei-Hei!?" (Moana) usually used as an exclamation of surprise or disbelief

"Bing-Bong?" (Inside Out) same as above

"D-A-N-G-E-R, shortcut!" (Inside Out) when we think someone has a risky, bad idea

"Curtsey while you're thinking, it saves time" (Alice in Wonderland) whenever someone says "I'm thinking"

"Don't try it, Anakin!" (inspired by Star Wars, Obi-Wan specifically) I usually use this one when my mom speeds through a yellow light, it's usually followed by "I don't mind flying but what you're doing is suicide!"

"I was close to being scared that time" (Toy Story) usually used when someone almost manages something but not quite there yet

"itchy tufts" (this is from a very niche comic about rabbits that I cannot find anywhere after scouring the internet for it) I have a lot of allergies and sensitive skin, so I get itchy a lot, which is when this gets used

"You, sir, are a woozle!" (Christopher Robin) this is a devastating insult

"What!? No! I don't wanna do that!" (Lego Batman)

"Sire, please" (Robin Hood) the catch with this is you have to say it in Sir Hiss' voice

"Be gone, Long One" (also from Robin Hood)

There are probably so many more that I'm forgetting but this post is getting long enough as it is lol

things i say that confuse and worry my coworkers:

“happy birthday” every time i hand them something

“well, that’s not ideal” whenever something is going wrong

“we are in the timeline that god abandoned” whenever i’m mildly inconvenienced

“can’t you see that your fighting is tearing this family apart?” whenever two or more coworkers are arguing

referring to taking medication as “eating medicine”

“time to go back to prison!” when putting animals back in their cages

referring to inanimate objects as (s)he, particularly when i break something and say “oh no, he’s dead.” this concerns them especially when i follow it up with “that’s not ideal”

“what are they gonna do, fire me?”

[kyri45]

I have so many different feelings right now.

Like, i know the comic is over and all, but everything on it started to small, silly and simple, just to in a blink of eyes turn into something so big, unique and cool. I hope you feel so proud by the fandom that your comic has made up, cause i can't express how complete and wonderful was this finale.

Also i don't want to sound weird but this fan-project means so much to me as in to inspire myself to keep going with my own projects or just to see what hard work and care for what you're doing can create. I'm usually not good with words (also by dead english lol) but i hope this message can reach you

Can't wait to see you shining bright with your art again! 💜❤🧡

awww tysm for the drawing!!!

[peachyparkerr]

see you soon | patrick zweig x reader

fwb!bsf!patrick zweig x reader 𓇢𓆸

notes: angst, allusions to nsfw (but not smut), but still some fluff cuz i love pat and ik he needs love, best friends to lovers once again, they're in their like 20s cuz i am in my 20s, beatopia!

inspired by the song “see you soon” by beabadoobee, i recommend listening to get the vibes!

𓇢𓆸

patrick, on the outside, was not a "feelings" guy. his parents were the type of rich people that were all about appearances, doing whatever they could to stay rich, too busy for anything that didn't have to do with that. they weren't bad people, just not the greatest parents. so when he could've used their admiration or encouragement or warmth, all that was there was tennis. he gave everything he had into tennis because that's the only thing he could do, and he was good at it. good at tennis, and good at hiding behind confidence in his looks and his skills on and off the court. maybe he wasn't a good guy, he didn't know how to be, but at least he had that.

but that led him to the mark rebellato tennis academy. and that led him to you. you, that was just as good, honestly probably better, at tennis than him. you were a lot like him, confident and skilled, but you were kind. smart. funny. beautiful. it was all those things that made him want you, but you saw right through him. and that's why you took it upon yourself to befriend him rather than make an enemy out of him or hook up with him.

"I need a new hitting partner. can't do that if we're not friends, and we can't be friends if we are hooking up." sixteen year old you said, shooting him down calm, collected, and casually when he shameless flirted with you, again, at yet another party. but you hadn't proposed this idea before and sure he was cute, and you'd heard the stories of what he was like in bed, but you weren't looking for that with him. at least not at that point.

"you can't be serious, angel." seventeen year old patrick huffed out a small laugh of disbelief, the nickname falling so easily from his lips and had stuck every since then. he had no idea where it came from, except that it was what you looked like in his eyes. he didn't want to be just your friend but he couldn't say that he wasn't intrigued by having any part of you at all.

"don't make me ask that blonde friend of yours. come on, zweig, it's a win-win. " you looked up at him with a tilt of your head, smiling, the light hitting your eyes just right. he took one look into them, and at your glossy lips, and he knew it didn't even matter whatever it was you were saying at this point about in which way he was winning. patrick decided then he'd do anything for you if it meant you'd smile at him like that.

"okay, deal." he smirked, offering to walk you back to your room. friendship quickly bloomed between the kid versions of you two, even if he couldn't help how pretty he thought you looked.

over the years you guys got older and remained close, starting off as hitting partners when he wasn't with art, but the way he lingered in your spaces always teetered on the edge of something that wasn't just friendly. especially while you were in college. a palm that just barely touched your lower back to guide you through parties he attended with you. an arm around your shoulders as you sat on the same side of the booth. a hand on your knee to stop you from bouncing it. phone and video calls that seemed to stretch longer than expected into the night when he was away on tour.

those calls were really the beginning of you noticing that there was something going on with him. you couldn't quite put your finger on it, but you could tell he was off. the way his smile wasn't as wide as it usual was on the screen when you'd asked if he was seeing anyone new on tour. how his eyes were somehow not the deep blue that you knew them to be.

"you okay, pat?" you asked on your end of the call, looking and talking at him with genuine care and concern.

"i’m fine, angel. just.." miss you is what he wanted to say. but he didn't know how to open himself up like that. "tired." he lied instead. you had known him long enough at this point that that it was more than that but you didn't push either. you knew that wasn't how he worked, and he knew you knew all of these things too. but maybe if you had pushed then it wouldn't be what it became.

"okay. well i'll let you get your rest and i'll see you soon." you promised with a real, wide smile that always made him melt before hanging up. he should've told you then that the real reason he had been calling so much, refusing to let you off the phone at a reasonable time, wasn't just because he missed you but that he loved you. but he let you hang up and pretended everything was fine.

everything was fine. tours came and went, your college days coming to a close. he claimed to be on the top of his tennis game, especially with you finding time in your busy life to come cheer him on. until yet another girl broke up with him. he didn't blame them, he never did. they were all distractions from what he really wanted but told himself he couldn't have.

most of the time these breakups were sweat off his back. none of them would ever be you. lots of girls wanted to date him, but when they saw the real him they knew they didn't want to marry him or have anything to do with him. he was never real to them, only ever with you, but god this time it was reaching a breaking point. he wanted something real. something to call his and only his, and he wanted it with you. he shut his phone off amidst his spiral to wallow.

that was his first mistake. his second mistake was forgetting his plans with you. it wasn't like him to just forget and not answer his phone. so you, being the kind person you are, came to his apartment. you could hear the tv on the other side of the door. you knocked and he didn't answer even though you knew he was in there. so you let yourself in with the spare key you knew was under the mat. you find him on the couch, staring into the ceiling. he'd barely realized you were there until you were sitting right next to him.

he's telling you to leave and won't meet your eyes because he doesn't know how he's going to control himself right now around you. how he's going to not just blurt out that he loves you and pull you into his arms and never let you go because god is he just itching to be worthy of your love. but then you're grabbing his chin to force him to look at you. your eyes are studying his face trying to figure out what's wrong. not because you're nosy, but because you care. because you always have. because you know him.

when he meets your eyes, your expression turns soft, but you don't look away. you push some curls out of his face and let your hand linger there as a silent way of saying to him that he can tell you, whatever it is.

suddenly he's kissing you. he's kissing you and you're letting him.

there was no going back after that. not when he's kissing your neck and you're taking off his shirt. not when he's leading you to his room and effortlessly laying you down on his bed like he's wanted to do ever since he's met you. no words are exchanged in the quiet of his apartment, just looks between the two of you before each move to confirm if something's okay. the moonlight cascading over you with every brush of his lips against your skin.

you had thought of this moment before but you never thought this is how it would happen. not when you knew something was wrong and he wouldn't say what it is was. you should've stopped it, pushed him to act like a regular person, but you were selfish too. you couldn't admit it out loud that you loved him, and it was that fact that made you stay. you would do anything if it meant he would feel better.

his usual rough hands held you softly, like you were something special, fragile. he took his time in the silence, each touch, each kiss, each whisper of your name falling from his mouth was tender--like he was worshipping you. you being there, with him, like this, was what made him feel better. made him feel whole for the first time in his life.

after, you two just layed there. he cleaned you up, wrapped you up in his clothes and held you close. he didn't acknowledge what just happened and neither did you. you stayed over, sleeping in his arms like it was just any other ordinary occurrence. in the morning, you slipped out before he woke up, leaving a note that you hope he felt better and that you'd see him soon. if he didn't want to talk about this then that would just be the way it was because that was patrick and even if you had no regrets, you didn't want to lose him by pushing.

if it was just that one time then maybe you could've continued to pretend everything was fine. you knew patrick. you knew that he didn't do relationships, and you weren't about to assume that is what he wanted with you despite how much that night confirmed for you that your heart beat for him. but it wasn't just that one night.

patrick fucked up. he knew he should've said how he really felt before kissing you, before going any further than that, but he just thought that actions could speak for him. it just felt so good to finally have you. to feel the affection he had for you returned. but he was a fool and it wasn't just that one time.

he let it go unacknowledged. he kept his revolving door of girls open, and kept you as his best friend. he knew in his heart that there was no way he could get you out of his system now, so he would keep drowning in other people, other things, to distract himself. you would pretend to be fine, but the second someone else looked your way, there he was. bulldozing into your spaces like he belonged there, taking you for himself.

so you two entered into this ill fated ending dance of friends with benefits. if one of you called, there was the other one answering. it was supposed to be a walk in the park, easy, but the lines got more blurry and you were so confused. you'd heard stories of how he could be rude, cocky, rushing, reckless without even meaning to with his partners. but with you, he was always soft and patient and intentional, in the light and in the darkness, making sure you felt him in every part of you in every way.

he looked at you a little too long behind closed doors and that bled into the fabric of real life. sometimes you'd catch him, but he'd just smile, brushing it off with a kiss to your cheek. the palm that used to barely rest on your lower back through crowds, rested on your waist, firm, known. his jacket finding its way to be wrapped around you in the late nights sitting on your roof talking like nothing changed. he wouldn't let there be any distance between you on the same side of the booth, and the hand that would stop your knee from bouncing now burned where it would press down on your upper thigh.

"angel" would slip into "baby" and he didn't notice. he didn't notice most of these changes except that they felt right to him. he would crack jokes to fill the silences as he pressed you into his mattress again and again, mostly to make you feel like it wasn't awkward, that he wanted you to be comfortable, but also to hear your laugh again and again since it had always been his favorite song. if only he had the courage to speak with his words and not assume that things were good the way that were.

they weren't though and it was now your turn to realize that you couldn't go on like this. you couldn't pretend that you were okay with wondering if outings were now dates since he always paid and told you you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen or if the way you could hear his heart beating faster than ever when you rested your head on his bare chest after pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw meant you were still just friends.

it was hard to pretend that you weren't all consumed by him. that you could just take what he gave you and not feel like you were deteriorating from the inside out at the fact that you weren't really his, and he wasn't really yours.

"i think i should go, pat." you said one night, untangling yourself from him, holding the sheet to cover your bare chest as you got up from the bed. if you didn't go now, you were sure you'd never.

"what? why?" he sat up on his side of his bed, confused, but mostly hurt. this couldn't be it. he needed you more than ever. he was in too deep.

"i just...i need space. to really think, about some stuff." you couldn't look at him as you got dressed. you felt light headed, and you needed to get out of there before you got wrapped back up in everything.

"we can talk about it. just come back to bed, baby." he slipped on his boxers that were on the floor and started to follow you to the door.

"i'll be okay. i just can't be here." you had your back turned to him with a hand on the door handle. but he lingered there behind you.

"how do i fix this?" he asked, terrified that this would be the last time he saw you.

"pat." you shakily breathed out, warning him not to push you if he wasn't going to say what he knew you needed to hear.

"angel. i can't lose you. not like this." his voice wavered as he reached a hand out to stop you. "you know how I feel about you."

"do i?" you questioned still facing the door. the hand on your shoulder feeling more like a weight than a comfort.

he says nothing. words failing him even if he knows it would be the only thing that could get you to stay right now.

you shrug his hand off in the silence, opening the door anyway.

"i'll see you soon. promise." you mean it, even if you leave without sparing him another glance.

he stands there after you leave. his apartment not the only thing feeling empty. how did he let it get this far? you'd given him the affection he needed so badly, and he doted on you like it was the air in his lungs, but didn't you know it was real? that it meant everything?

he lets you have your space for a few days before it sinks in that he can't live without you. he needed you to know that he didn't want to pretend that this wasn't real. you weren't just another notch on his bed post like everyone else, because they were only there because he thought you couldn't be. he wanted you, and he wanted you to want him too.

so when it had been radio silence on your end for two weeks, he begged and begged to see you. promising you he was ready to talk if you were. he understood why you took the space, but god was it killing him. he meets you at the beach, finding you sitting on a blanket watching the waves. he takes a cautious seat next to you, pretending that the purposeful space he leaves between you isn't terrifying.

"i can't pretend anymore." you said facing the ocean, your voice was like the tide—rising slow and steady, waves crashing calmly against the shore.

"i don't want you to." he responded, eyes watching you intently, his hand that rests in the space between you itching to hold yours.

"is any of it real? or is it all in my head?" you questioned, looking at him nervously. but his gaze remained, unwavering.

"everything is real. it always has been, always will be." the words fall easily from patrick for the first time in his life. he grabbed your hand, and when you didn't pull it back, he placed it on his chest over his heart so you could feel that it was beating faster than you've ever felt. he wanted you to know that it was for you, that everything was and is for you. "i love you. i'm sorry if i ever let you think i didn't. but i do, and i'm done pretending that you're not the realest thing in my life. "

his admission was more vulnerable than you'd expect from him. he was never good at words or feelings, you'd never force that on him, but you always wanted him to try. yet here he was, putting his heart out on the line, and you believe him despite the part of you that was screaming at you to run away again.

"i love you too." you say back to him. no one's ever said that to him, but he's sure that he never wants to hear it from anyone else but you. he smiles and you do too. he shifts closer, closing the distance between you on the blanket, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you guys watch the waves.

and he kisses you, soft and slow. except this time, it means something. it's real.

𓇢𓆸

tagging some of my mutuals because their content keeps me going everyday! i hope i did a good job and challengers for life <3 @diyasgarden @222col @jordiemeow @itsrensfairygardenn

[deadrobinthoughts]

†  all the flags : tim.

⋆˙⟡ “i'm not.. emotionally unavailable. i'm emotionally encrypted. you're just not running the right program.”

⋆˙⟡ request: kal, im gonna need to see the green red and beige flags for your v1 boy ↦ kalico note: ♡ being colorblind is perfectly fine.

↦ GREEN FLAGS. "Christ, I'm in love with a problem."

says "be careful" every time you walk out the door.

gifted you a flashdrive and a note saying "if anything happens to me" and it's just a bunch of surprisingly well written love letters.

your likes, dislikes, soft spots, fears, etc. are all just locked away in his brain.

remembers your first birthday: what you wore, what the weather was like, what music was playing - the moment he realized he fucked up and actually liked you.

has a bunch of playlists inspired by you but won't actively tell you.

asks things like "what's your favorite book?" or "dream vacation?" during patrols.

has your routine down better than you.

stays up all night researching things you've mentioned in passing.

doesn't say 'i love you' but makes it clear in a thousand quiet, understandable, obsessive ways.

knows your go-to orders everywhere.

has a backup plan for all of your backup plans.

he treats your secrets like ancient, sacred knowledge.

respects your boundaries like they're the law.

doesn't offer unsolicited advice, despite wanting to, and waits for you to ask ( aka, need him. )

he's never forgetting a single thing you've told him. even things you don't even remember.

fixes things without being asked.

protects you like his life depends on it.

let's you play with his hair.

holds your wrist when out in public.

won't let you walk near the outside of the sidewalk.

slides you a snack or cup of tea when he notices your upset.

he knows all of your allergies, disorders, health issues, etc. and knows how to handle it if something goes wrong.

he has 100% broken into a vending machine for you.

defends you over the smallest things when you aren't around to hear it.

keeps a photo of you with him at all times - no, you have never seen it.

will never ask you to change. ever. for any reason.

can and will show up at your house at 2am.

can and will break into said house to be there when you get home.

has a box of every single receipt, ticket, note, letter, etc. you've ever given him and/or he acquired while with you.

he keeps the first voicemail you ever said 'i love you' in on his phone, seven different drives, backed up in several places like it could save the world someday.

tugs you by your shirt and kisses the top of your head when you get upset over something he said that wasn't meant to upset you.

he's not great at it and it only works about 20% of the time, but he attempts to watch how he sees things.

does not let you pay for food.

leaves a shirt or hoodie behind for you to find later on.

routinely messages "good morning." every single day.

will not, at any point, let either of you sleep until a fight or argument is resolved. even if he won't admit he's wrong.

↦ RED FLAGS. "God, if I say that's attractive, I probably need therapy."

he will absolutely repress his feelings into oblivion before asking for help.

he doesn't lie to you, per se, but he will omit like.. 87% of the truth.

would rather lose you than ever let you get hurt because of him.

every single person in his life is traumatized because that's simply who he lets in. ( it's red bc it's not always healthy. )

has days where he struggles with who he is outside of the mask.

he has no clue how to deal with unconditional love without dissecting it and giving you reasons to not love him.

believes in hope and redemption for everyone but himself.

he's got a file - mental, but it's still there - of everyone, including you.

copes with sarcasm and cruel comments.

deflects hurt by hurting others.

apologizing is barely something that crosses his mind and when it does, he's shit at doing it to your face.

he solves his problems by disappearing for a week.

texts after that week "what's up" like you weren't thinking he was dead 8 hours ago.

he's not going to tell you he's hurt until you find him stitching or bandaging or wrapping something.

he knows if you lie to him, and yes - he will be a hypocrite and call you out on it.

he has and will emotionally manipulate people for the greater good, even if it hurts the person.

he's not going to fight you if you want to walk away - he'll just nod, let you go, and deal with how he feels on his own.

however, sometimes, he makes it easy. silence, distance, emotional retreat.

if he feels like you're pulling away, he's going to do it first.

there is 100% a tracker on you that you have no idea about.

thinks protection involves keeping you in the dark.

his idea of opening up, early on, is brushing everything off and telling you he's fine and not to worry about it.

will ignore you if he's bothered by something. ( bothered, not mad. )

he's going to apologize more for stupid shit like burdening you or dragging you down before he apologizes for something he did wrong.

he has trained himself to not need comfort. ( he thinks it worked until you come along. )

he thinks he's expendable. which is why he can be reckless if it means protecting someone.

sleep is optional if he has work to do.

he will, at no point in his existence, admin he's jealous. but he will make someone else's life a living hell for it. behind your back.

if he sees you reciprocating anything like flirting, even leaning too close when you laugh, he's gonna up and vanish. for hours.

he does not want to be considered needy, jealous, etc. so, he just won't tell you how any of these things make him feel.

god help if you're in danger and one of the others gets to you first - he will be very quick to cut them off and take over.

self sabotage is burned into his soul.

does have deeply personal information on all of your friends, ex friends, ex lovers, etc.

↦ BEIGE FLAGS. "You're so fucking weird.."

will use outdated slang for shits and giggles - he's said "jazzed" so many times.

all of his electronics have names. yes, he expects you to use them.

you've caught him eating cereal, half asleep, with a fork.

can pick any lock, get through any firewall, dismantle any security system - but lord help if he needs to open a bag of chips or a can of biscuits.

will ghost you - then show up two days later with your favorite take out and a not-really-an-apology apology.

can skate like a pro but will trip over his own feet. ( please look into his early robin training days, it's hilarious. )

he has two forms of flirting:

blunt, straight to the point.

fighting over detective work until you're red in the face and want to strangle him.

buys you flowers often but does not give them to you, just leaves them on a counter or table.

told you he loved you on a mission once, then pretended it never happened.

corrects you, feels bad for the next week.

he has a color-coded sheet for your communication quirks.

will stare you. will blush when caught. will call you crazy if you mention it.

the type to correct things when watching a movie.

will let himself get torn to shreds if it means petting a street cat.

goes nonverbal for hours on end for absolutely no reason. just existing. nodding when needed.

disassociates on the balcony at 3am.

according to him, after being called cute, he's "statistically speaking, i'm not." aka, you're wrong but thanks.

genuinely knows this because of his time looking at data on facial symmetry, global average, basic attractive features, etc.

don't tell him you miss him because he'll never say it back, just glance to the side then be like "i'm right here."

he has mugs, silverware, specific shirts, and jackets that you are not allowed to touch. because they are his.

he will send you a total of 9 paragraphs in a text at one in the morning about something interesting he found.

like everyone else, he has favorite rooftops and spots in gotham; he will get offended if someone else is using it.

makes you watch documentaries with him.

he sent you a cute little thing for your anniversary once. it was labeled "sentiment.archive" - it was a very, very organized timeline of photos and memories.

↦ BONUS. reacting.

i love you. "okay. well.. uh, noted."

you're cute. "do you mean that in a romantic human way, or the manipulative way because you want something?"

i missed you. "i never turned the comms off?"

why do you love me? "because you looked at all the broken, beat down bullshit and still said 'that's mine.'"

your happiness is important to me. "let's settle on functional unless you plan to redefine happiness."

you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. "please aim higher."

i don't want to lose you. ( i'll be nice here- ) v1: "both of us already have. bits, pieces - parts of me. a long time ago." v2: "you're not losing me.. you won't. unless you decide it's time to go."

you cry in front of him. "hey, tell me what you need - little slower. i'm listening, i'm right here."

you reach for his hand. "hold on too tight and i might not let go."

i hate you, said during a fight. "…okay…. okay."

[yay855]

The sheer changes in one's life that can happen from just... being in a better mental place are so...

I have been seeing a psychiatrist and therapist for a bit over a year now, after inconsistently seeing some when I was a kid. And the antidepressants, antipsychotics, and ADHD med all helped a ton with very specific things.

But they weren't the thing that helped me get my life... more into gear, if not fully. They helped, and a lot, but my life changed... because I finally wanted it to. Because I wasn't just sick and tired of misery, I actively wanted to be happier and wanted to take the steps to be happier. And... the things that improved my mental health were things that, when I was depressed, seemed completely irrelevant and nonsensical. Why would showering and brushing my teeth more make me happier? Why would forcing myself to write when I wasn't feeling up for it make me want to write more for its own sake? Why would engaging socially, etc etc etc. And the truth is that depression convinces you that the things it makes you do are normal. Not just normal, but so normal that the idea of changing what you do and how you act seems completely stupid.

Except it isn't. Taking better care of your body and appearance isn't just some chore, it's something to boost your self-esteem and make you feel more confident about yourself. Engaging in your hobbies even when you "don't feel like it" builds up your ability to want to do it, turning into a happy moment you choose to have regularly because you're using it doing something engaging, even if it isn't "perfect", because you're still doing it, and waiting for the perfect inspiration and moment to strike never really worked. Talking with people and making and keeping up with friends genuinely makes you feel less alone, it makes you happier because you have a more present reminder that there are people who love you and want to be around you.

You start showering daily and brushing your teeth and all that, and your improved body image makes you want to do more, maybe take walks or do some workouts to stay more fit. You engaging with hobbies and friends makes the time you do it so much happier, but it also makes you more confident and willing to do the things you need to when you're not, because you know that there's that bright spot waiting for you.

The thing is, depression compounds on itself, it builds up over time, grinding away your self-respect and joy, and the solution to fighting that isn't actively punching the depression, it's countering the depression with the things it doesn't want you to do. And the more you do these things, the more you do things that make you happy, the more you're able to push yourself to do even more.

Depression is a downward spiral, and the fight to unravel its grasp on you is an upward one.

Any tips for being a suicidal 15 year old?

When I was a suicidal 15 year old everyone told me “it gets better”, and it sounded like bullshit. And frankly, it still sounds like bullshit. Like oh, what, I’m living in hell and you’re not gonna help me or *do* anything or give me any useful advice and I’m supposed to just hang in there on the nebulous, pithy promise that things are just gonna work out on their own? And you can’t tell me how or why, I’m just supposed to take it on the faith that I don’t have that something might change in ways I haven’t considered?

But yeah. It does. And it’s frustrating as hell.

Yes, things are gonna get better, and they’re gonna get better in ways I can’t describe even after experiencing it myself. Things you don’t even know CAN be different WILL be different. One day you’re just going to step outside and realize things got better somewhere and you didn’t even notice it happening.

And there’s really nothing I can say that makes that sound even a little bit believable.

I guess all I can tell you is that you have to want to believe it.

[fourteentrout]

how to be the ultimate tool of destruction

Pairing: Azriel/Eris Vanserra

Rating: M

Chapter Count: 1/3

Description: Even from the other end of Prythian, Eris Vanserra manages to unravel the careful tapestry of Azriel's stoic exterior one thred at a time. The Shadowsinger is no stranger to wrath, but the kind that the Lordling inspires is one that he just can't seem to get a grip on. He hates it. The loss of control, the thoughtlessness, the total dissociation. He doesn't want the rage or the blindness that it brings, but he just can't seem to help it when the First Son of Autumn is involved.

Especially not when a mating bond snaps between them.

But when Azriel's instincts are forced in a new direction, and his rage takes a different shape, he is confronted with truths and feelings that he'd previously thought impossible. Because, at the end of the day, Eris Vanserra is his mate.

And there is little that Azriel wouldn't do for the one tied to his soul.

hello hello! if you like azris and you'd like to see what i lovingly refer to as Angry Azzy, feel free to check out my most recent fic! you can access it on AO3 from the hyperlink above, or here. and let me know if you'd like to be on the taglist, or if you already are and i've tragically forgotten you, which is a very real possibility. i'll be sure to write you down and include you in future azris posts if you're interested! And if I tagged you and you didn't want to be tagged, don't be afraid to let me know and I'll take you off, no sweat

@secret-third-thing @g00seg1rl @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @amalhe-kofee @molcat07 @iftheshoef1tz @mudandmire

[uncanny-tranny]

You know, I've realized the interesting thing about "gay people date people who look just like them!" is that I did that myself but for a specific reason that I think is common in gay spaces

I think when you're gay or queer, your internal sense of what 'is' attractive has to be remapped. It's hard sometimes to signal that you both are attracted to someone in a gay way while also saying that you want to be found attractive. As a young kid, I knew what 'is' attracted ve for a straight guy to do - I generally know how to signal to women that I'm interested in them and also want them to be interested in me. But with other guys? Uncharted territory in many ways because society doesn't teach you what's attractive and how to signal your desires for gay people like they do straight people. When I found this out, I figured that my best option was just to see what I found attractive in guys and then I just emulated that because people are most attracted to people they are more similar to.

In some ways, this has been helpful. I started finding myself more attractive because I was able to use other people as inspiration and I knew that I would be attractive for it because I already found that attractive. It was reassuring to know that I didn't need to second-guess if something was attractive because I was already shown that it is. However, there's this weird feeling of knowing that you can't even be conditioned by society as a whole because they don't even know or care you exist. You're conditioned to understand what 'is' attractive for a man or woman in an opposite-sex relationship. I guess it just reminds me, "hey, you're different!" and that can sometimes bother me just because it gives rise to the anxiety that I won't have a frictionless life.

I'm definitely not saying that this is universal, but looking back on my own experiences, I was very intentional with this. And I don't even think this is 100% right, either, because I also do want to be the more traditionally-masculine person. It's complicated sometimes.

[weewookinard]

My dear ex (bucktommy love letters serie)

You might have forgotten about it but once upon a time i started a serie of love letters from Tommy to Buck. I wrote one today, which is big because i stopped writing recently because i am fucking miserable.

This letter is 8x11 coda, it doesn't look really happy and hopeful but i am a true believer of endgame!bucktommy so i'll write more happy ones! Some letters are episodes inspired, some are not, you can find them on ao3 . Feel free to check the rest of my work, it might help me find motivation?? idk. Anyway, new letter incoming!

----

My dear ex, 

The word competition shouldn't have come out of my mouth the other day. Everything was going so well before I cracked it open. I'd managed to find your favorite variety of apples, my bacon was cooked to perfection, and the sun was shining in your new kitchen when you got up and joined me, gorgeous as always. 

And I ruined it. 

And then you ruined it, too. 

My psychologist says I have to stop blaming myself all the time, that I have to accept that others make mistakes too. But I'm not sure the words you said were a mistake. Not as if I could ask you to explain, not after leaving like a coward -again.

It's not the first time I've fallen back into the arms of an ex. It's not the first time I've slept with someone despite the pain of a break-up. It's not the first time I've been the only one to feel hopeful again. But every time it ends the same way, Evan, with my heart in pieces and a head full of shame. 

I wish I didn't regret this moment, I wish I didn't want to see you again. But I can't help it, I can't do without you. You're everywhere, all the time, and I naively thought that your presence the other night in the same bar as me was a sign.

You've made it clear that you don't have feelings for me, but I'm still hanging on anyway, a masochist who doesn't know when to give up.

You may not have feelings for me Evan, but I do. I'm crazy about you, crazy about what we once were. Six months that changed my life, that damaged me too. What do I do now? 

Part of me wants to knock on your door -Eddie's door. Maybe I could, with a little effort, make you fall in love with me? Maybe I could settle for a one-sided love if only you'd offer me a place by your side. It would hurt me, it would make myself disrespect me, but I don't have anything else to do. I don't deserve better and I don't need better. 

All I need is you. 

You can love who you want, you can not love at all. But I beg you, let me love you a little. 

I hope you don't mind that I opened a few boxes that morning. 

Please forgive me, 

Tommy

[amalthea-13]

just curious what would you say is the most frustrating take on stolas you've ever come across?

meaning an argument an anti made that bothered you the most?

The Self Victimization Argument That I Loathe

Firstly, thank you for the ask! I always appreciate it since it gives me sort of a "prompt" to work off of! So truly thanks!! Also I noticed in my recent notifications you recently started following and omg I am so thankful.

You all make me so happy and make this so fun with how intellectual and smart you all are!!! Your responses and questions make this my favorite part of my day!

But enough gushing about my lovely followers! Back to buisness!

To anyone new to my page or essays, Hello! I am Amalthea the Ultimate Stolas Kin and Stan and write waaayyyyy to much about Stolas for my own good. He's like everything to me! My page focuses on Stolas defense, and one of the main arguements I hate are the ones that even imply he "self victimizes" for the sake of getting out of his "bad behavior".

What is Self Victimization?

Having to explain this concept at all was very frustrating since I first encountered this argument back on my Tiktok page. It was what inspired the Stolas, Miscontextualing his Words, and Boundaries essay where I discuss at lengths how the Helluva Boss fandom misrepresent Stolas's statements from Apology Tour. For a baseline I will be putting a definition below; UNLEASHING POTENTIAL - PSYCHOLOGY VIDEOS their video Psychology of SELF Victimization helped informed this definition;

Self Victimization is the act of manipulating ones situation to take victimhood from the affected group and make themself out to be the "actual victim". They usually blame others for their circumstances taking no responsibility on their part and often target people of lower self-esteem or those of a kind heart. They are usually incredibly codependent and utilize victimhood to get their way. They also like to be perceived as "good people" despite being terrible.

If anyone wants to add to this definition and has studied psychology on this specific field, please feel happy to DM me a better definition or any information to make this more accurate.

However, usually what people mean is that Stolas is using is abusive circumstances to get what he wants out of Blitz and is targeting him to get what he wants. Whatever, that's a bag of fully packaged horse shit and I can prove it with ease.

Does Stolas Feel Remorse for His Actions?

I consider Full Moon to be Stolas's apology. Anyone else who disagrees with me can kiss my Puerto Rican ass, because that was a heartfelt apology and genuine taking accountability if I've ever seen one. I do not think you have to say the words "I'm sorry" to genuinely apologize to someone you have wronged. If you disagree, again, kiss my ass.

(Not you asker, I am speaking to antis, you're blameless for their stupidity. UwU)

Moving on, Stolas goes into great detail about how he was wrong and how he messed up in their relationship.

Stolas: Blitzo, I'm giving you this because I care.... very deeply for you. And I have for some time. [He places the crystal onto Blitzo's glove, embedding itself into his hand.] But this transactional thing we have, it's not right anymore. It hasn't been. It never was. And now all I can see is how wrong it is to be so tethered to someone in such an unfair way... and not know how they feel. But I want you to continue to be who you are, your business. You don't have to stay here with me. [He removes his hat.] But... I want you to. I want you to stay here with me because you want to. Only if you want to.

Stolas here takes accountability for his actions and part in this entire arrangement. Hell, Blitz holds at least half the blame, but Blitz isn't put into a position to take any accountability or responsibility. Stolas takes the sole blame and doesn't put Blitz in a position to feel guilty or be blamed.

Stolas takes blame purely because he feels at fault and like he put Blitz into a position that was unfavorable.

This is not "self victimizing" behaviors at ALL. In Sinsmas Stolas proceeds to continue to take responsibility for his choices.

Stolas: *calmly* It's okay. Saving you was the right thing to do. And you have risked your life for mine in return. *takes puff from cigarette* You don't need to feel any guilt for my situation, it was my choice. *sadly* It was all my choice. I caused all of this.

Stolas does not ever exhibit self victimizing behavior, but he sure as hell exemplifies the behaviors of an abuse victim. Yet people like to miscontextualize these moments as "self victimizing" instead of the very real context for who he is and how he acts.

He never boasts about being a "good person" then cries wolf for when he needs to be held accountable. However, Stolas has never been seen to display this behavior in the show.

Does Stolas Target Blitz because of his Low Self-Esteem?

I'm probably gonna get dunked on for this part, but Blitz targeted Stolas, not the other way around. While I ain't sitting here tryna go after Blitz every 5 seconds, I may as well go into this for a moment.

Since I sure as hell got time to do it, but Blitz literally during The Circus realizes how sexually inept Stolas is and utilizes that to his advantage to get the book.

I ain't saying Stolas is an angel, but if anyone is "self victimizing" at all, it is Blitz. He acts like Stolas made the terms of their relationship when he realistically could have ran away. I mean he ran from Verosika and everyone else in his damn life so he couldn't just fuck off for once?? No, because that didn't benefit him at all.

Stolas's vulnerability with Blitz is abused against him quite often by Blitz since he knows Stolas cares about him.

For example the Ozzie Ep, why would Blitz call Stolas for a "date" if he truly believed he was just a "royal fuck"??? That's the question many people don't ask and I don't get why we act as if Blitz is a fucking idiot. He literally knows Stolas will bend to his will.

Stolas stopped asking for sex and still gave him the fucking grimoire on multiple occasions.

If anyone was "targeting" anyone, it was Blitz targeting Stolas.

Is Stolas Codependent?

Not one bit. Despite being a victim of abuse, Stolas is incredibly independent and doesn't depend on Blitz to solve all his problems.

Often Blitz isn't vulnerable enough for Stolas to really "depend on", especially since during Western Energy, Stolas felt like he couldn't really depend on Blitz afterwards and onwards pulls away from Blitz slowly but surely.

Stolas takes care of himself and his problems and therefore is not codependent.

Conclusion

I do apologize to you, Asker, I was kinda going off about this, but genuinely anyone claiming Stolas is "self victimizing" are usually the most annoying ass people in this fandom. As much as I adore talking about Stolas and easily debunking people's arguments, this one is not only constant in the fandom, but it reeks of victim blaming rhetoric and mishandling of real psychological terminology.

It also takes no more than a few seconds to piece together why this argument makes no sense and therefore stupid as all hell.

Of all the arguments in the fandom, yeah this one is the worse.

Thank you for the ask! <3

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

*GASP*

...

how come the Team does this to me? They get me every. single. time. chat, I don't even want to click on the episode BUT I HAVE TO KNOW IF MY THEORY WAS RIGHT OH WHYYYY

(the following is my live reaction:)

starting off already? well no complaints from me

it's giving "Trust No One" from WOTFI 2023 arc

PFFT HAHAHHAHAHAHA

ok ok ik it's supposed to be serious, but that "wha happen?" audio clip from Mickey Mouse Shorts really caught me off-guard. Who in the Team did that? I want to say thank you

anyway, Mario dude you gotta tell everything, especially to Karen

...well, the minecraft part isn't wrong but he's not telling the whole story

omg 4 really is doing the same thing as 3 did a year ago

which is crazy considering that 4 wasn't in 3's interrogation on Mario. They're so cosmically linked that they came up with the same interrogation method, well it's also Mario we're talking about

yeah, we'll let Karen do the rest

might as well give in, Mario. it ain't worth hiding any secrets

...4?

he's so silly I love him 💙

idk 4, maybe you should be an inspiring VA (4 would be the type of parent who would do all the characters' voices when reading bedtime stories 😌↕️)

oh. oh holy shit.

well at least you're getting it out of your system, Karen. but I do feel genuinely concerned you. I still understand but worried.

the shadows making it look like she's stabbing Mario isn't helping with my concerns

...what was that?

*wheeze* no 4, it's not the IRS

OH we got a sniper here, folks. WPNZ?

AND A ROBOTIC HAND? yeah, we're not just guessing anymore. the anon from my inbox who said that WPNZ may be a cyborg, you nailed it man

Ain't no way, Mario died (he literally cannot)

THE GMOD GUN IS BACK

HOLY SHIT nice save Karen

it's confirmed: 4 doesn't pay his taxes

Mario: "I am..." [*Invincible title card*]

he still got the walkie-talkie.... what the hell did WPNZ say to him?

YEP now we're putting the pieces together

*wheeze* Mario what was that run?

pull some strings, you say? perhaps... CONNECTIONS?

GET EM GIRLS /ref

secretive, ay?

what's with the dark room?

*flashback* I just remembered a traumatizing experience in my past, hang on I have to stim and I'll feel better. /ref

damn Mario ok

oh wait, I recognize this animation style. Anaidon, did you work on this scene? :D

PFFT THE DISTRACTION DANCE FROM THE HENRY STICKMAN SERIES OMG

I did not see that coming, ok who in the Team did that bc that was good haha. nostalgia go brrrrrrrrrr

No, WPNZ, it really did work ngl

oh shit

yep it's a cyborg hand if it's compatible with an actual arm

Gear up, it's for a swell battle!!!

FLAMETHROWER?! even Mario's not liking this

no, 4! this isn't Mario, it's Mr. WPNZ

😦

*pauses episode* ...chat, can you do something for me?

hold me back, and don't let go until I'm done. ready?

*ahem*

...WPNZ YOU SON OF A BITCH WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU AND I SWEAR YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LIVE TO SEE TOMORROW— *10 minutes and a nuke explosion later*

ok I'm good.

4 I'm going to need you to wake up buddy. c'mon you can't die, especially not you. 4 don't do this to me, you can't. you faced way worse stuff before, this can't hold you down now. your friends, your family, they're waiting for you to come back home. you can't leave them. 4 please

WE GOT A PULSE OH THANK GOD

IT'S A WEAK ONE THO, WE NEED TO GET HIM TO A DOCTOR NOW

I KNOW YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO, IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT 😭

at least Karen could finally get some answers

...a surprise?! OH HELL NO that guy nearly got them killed for ENTERING, it's a trap for sure

LET'S GO GET YOUR KIDS BACK but do be careful, we still don't know what we're up against

😭

get 4 outta there!! oh god, is the Crew gonna see 4 in critical condition? Beeg4? *head in hands*

I swear the Team is out to get me (also Mario carrying out 4 strangely reminded me of a scene from a fic I read long ago)

and ofc the whole building on fire goddammit

(btw that fall reminded me of the insomniac spider-man teasers ifykyk)

no Karen, hun you aren't. you're like one of the best parents of the entire show

you're trying to be better and give your kids the life you didn't get to have, that pretty much makes you a good parent overall

YEAH LOCK IN

alright, the moment of truth

huh? radio interference?

I FUCKIN KNEW IT YEP IT'S CONFIRMED

MR. WPNZ IS KAREN'S EX LOVER AND FATHER OF THE KIDS

(well nicc, looks like you get you keep your script after all)

oh, so he's pretty much a psycho, good to know *starts curb-stomping him*

I TOLD YOU ALL THE "HALF PINTS* NICKNAME WAS TOO SPECIFIC

what kinda monster? oh the mentally-messed-up yandere ass one, yeah that kinda monster

HE'S AT THEIR HOUSE?! FUCKFUCKFUCK

ok yeah I see how it is. violence isn't enough, time to commit crimes :)

no, don't end it there. please don't

*flips desk* AND THE MUTED-COLOR CREDITS OH C'MON

looks like I got something else right, it was a mini-arc. it's all within the math

Congrats to daekim_26 for your art being featured at the end credits! 🎉 hey, I recognize this, Ben reblogged this over on Twitter. ig the Team really liked your art

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

I. I'm just speechless omg. Like what am I supposed to say to that? Shadow, is this what you meant when you said we're not prepared for this? I need to walk out a sec, hang on.

ok I'm back. I guess first off, Team, wow. What an episode, it is absolutely insane how good it all was. Especially the writing and the voice acting for Karen, it tugged on my heart strings. And Anaidon, I KNEW YOU ANIMATED THAT SCENE haha!

Genuninely, bravo 👏👏👏 and my calculations were right after all

Actually, for me to post my theory hours before the episode was dropped, I'm surprised how much I got it right. Most of it, yeah, though I didn't expect how insane Mr. WPNZ is. More so doing it for himself and not the corporation, but still a lot of dedication was put into this. And he got a robotic arm! Not exactly like Clench (who has a mind of its own and can talk) but definitely advanced. So, the point could still stand that the tech, skills, and resources were based on his job at Hitman Inc.

Poor Karen, you can tell she's been very desperate in finding her kids by the voice acting alone. You can't blame her for going to these lengths. Like I said, understandable, but I do still feel concerned for her. And then, her psycho ex on top of everything smh, I won't be able to handle it.

And you can't even blame Mario either. He did the mission thinking it would help Karen, and Mr. WPNZ told him what to do. Then with the prosthetic taking Mario's arm, it wasn't even him. It was WPNZ, but I do feel like Mario's going to feel so guilty for what he did to 4.

Wrong things for the right reason 😔↕️

Speaking of 4, NO NOT MY BOY. Chat, I'm not okay. Like I knew he wasn't going to die, he's literally one of the main characters, but my heart dropped at that scene. Through the floor and 6 feet underground. I did ask for 4 angst, yes, but damn. Can you imagine how the Crew would react? Since 3 & 4 are cosmically linked, would 3 feel that 4's in critical condition? Oh Beeg, 4's his dad dude. Beeg may be pretty tough but he still cares for 4, hope he gets a bit of revenge for it. (and a sprinkle of mar4 angst)

...am I going to bring in goop!4 into this?

Who do you take me for? ofc I am. As I mentioned, the parasite would still be in 4, and because of what happened to him, it might be the necessary trigger for it to activate. After everything that had happened to him, the explosion really knocked him out. This is taken seriously, this mini-arc starts really close to the IGBP anniversary.... I wouldn't be surprised if the Team tease for the future goop!4 arc. Not immediately after the Hitman arc, far later. Baby steps, chat. If the Team drops at least ONE frame, a SECOND, about goop!4, I'll take it!

Anyway, since it is a mini-arc, we're not getting another teaser or a trailer. BUT we are getting an episode special, so we'll have to look out for that. In meantime, that's all from me. I'll see yall next time and remember, folks: numbers always go first!

man, Ben. I gotta say, the thumbnail you made, it was a cool reference to the Parasite movie poster. Awesome job!

...huh.

[moonandst4rs]

“You and I drink the poison from the same vine”

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Masterlist

DEAN WINCHESTER X VAMPIRE!READER

WC: 1.1k

Summary: You and Dean are more alike then you both thought.

Warnings / Content: Inspired by 'Daylight' by David Kushner, angst, no use of y/n

A/N: Sorry posts are slower, i'm hoping to be able to post more soon !! Any requests or feedback is helpful, even if you're just chatting -- they don't need to me music related !!

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The flickering light from the motel room lamp is the only constant, it casts faint shadows against the faded paint on the walls. It’s a dirty, forgotten place, much like all the others Dean Winchester has passed through on his never-ending hunt. You sit across from him quietly, the hum of a distant highway flows through the cracked window. It’s the middle of the night, you assume. You don’t know how long you’ve been here.

It’s been hours since you were both forced into this room. The hunt had gone sideways, Dean had been tracking a nest, and you found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Except for the fact that you weren't entirely wrong. You had your own reasons for being there.

You glance at him, the famous hunter, the legend whose name spreads fear and awe in equally. He’s every bit as dangerous as they say, sharp eyes, tensed muscles, always on edge. Even now, sitting across the small table from you, he’s ready. He’s always ready. For you. For whatever comes next.

But he doesn’t reach for the knife he’s surely stashed under his jacket. Not yet.

"Still can’t believe I’m not dead right now," you murmur, breaking the silence that’s been stretching for far too long. You can’t help the smirk that plays on your lips, though there's no real humor behind it.

Dean doesn’t respond immediately. His jaw clenches, that familiar muscle twitching in his cheek, the one that shows up when he's thinking too hard or holding back something he’d rather not say. Finally, his voice cuts through the still air, low and rough. "You’re lucky, I guess. If you want to call it that."

You lean back in your chair, your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow. "Lucky? Is that what we’re calling it?"

Dean’s eyes flick toward you, green like a mischievous cat. There's no trust in his gaze, but there’s no real hatred either. He’s conflicted, you can feel it radiating off him like heat from a fire. It’s not every day he shares a room with a vampire and doesn’t end it with a beheading.

"You’ve had your chances to take me out," he says, leaning forward just slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. "And I’ve had mine. So, what gives? Why am I still breathing?"

It’s an odd question, considering you could ask him the same. Instead, you look out the window, watching as the streetlights flicker to life in the distance. "Maybe I’m tired," you say quietly. "Tired of the blood, the running, the endless nights that never change. Maybe I’m just sick of being what I am."

The silence that follows is heavy. You don’t expect Dean to understand. How could he? But then, you think about him, this is a man who has spent his life drenched in the blood of monsters, driven by the same hunger for survival that drives you. He kills because he has to. You feed because you have to. Two different paths, but neither of you had much of a choice.

Dean exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. "You think I don’t get tired? You think I don’t wonder why I keep doing this, why I keep fighting when it never seems to end? It’s all blood, all of it. Doesn’t matter whose it is."

You turn to look at him, surprised by the edge of vulnerability in his voice. You’ve heard stories about Dean Winchester, about how he’s a man made of steel, unyielding, relentless. But sitting across from you now, he looks more human than you expected. More broken.

"It’s different for you," Dean adds, his voice hardening again. "You’re a vampire. You chose to live this way."

A bitter laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it. "You think I chose this?" You stand up slowly, pacing toward the window, your reflection faint against the glass. "You think any of us wake up one day and decide we want to be monsters? To be hunted down, to live in the dark forever, watching the world move on without us?"

Dean’s silence is telling. He’s heard it all before, probably from other monsters begging for their lives. But you’re not begging. You’ve never begged.

"It’s the same for you," you continue, turning back to face him. "Maybe you weren’t bitten, maybe you weren’t turned into this thing that has to kill to survive. But you were made into something. The life you live…it consumes you. It makes you into something else. Something…less human."

His eyes narrow at your words, but he doesn’t argue. He knows it’s true. You’ve seen it before, hunters who become so consumed by the hunt that they forget why they started in the first place. They forget who they were before all the killing, before all the death.

"You’re not like them," He finally says, standing up, his hands sliding into his pockets. He moves toward the window, standing beside you, though he keeps a cautious distance. "You’re not like the ones I’ve hunted."

"Maybe not," you admit, your voice softer now. "But it doesn’t change what I am."

Dean’s gaze shifts from the window to you, his eyes searching yours, you don’t know what for. Maybe he’s trying to figure out if he should kill you now, if he should put an end to whatever this tense truce is. Or maybe he’s looking for something else, some sign that there’s more to you than fangs and bloodlust.

"It’s not just about what you are," he says, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. "It’s about what you do."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning. What you do. It’s always been about that, hasn’t it? The choices you make, the lines you’re willing to cross. You’ve killed before, and not always because you had no other choice. But you’ve also chosen not to kill. To walk away when you could have fed.

Dean’s eyes remain fixed on you, and for the first time, you feel a flicker of understanding between you. He doesn’t trust you, not fully. But he knows you’re not the same as the monsters he’s spent his entire life hunting.

"That’s enough for now," you say, breaking the tension. "For tonight, at least."

Dean nods, a small, almost undetectable gesture. He turns away from the window, heading back to the table where his weapons are stashed, he doesn’t reach for them. Not yet.

"Sun’ll be up soon," he mutters, glancing at the clock on the wall. "We’ll figure out what next."

You nod, but neither of you speaks again as the night wears on. You both know there’s no easy end to this. Tomorrow, Dean will have to decide what to do with you, and you’ll have to decide if you’ll stay or disappear into the night before he can make that choice.

Two souls lost in the shadows, bound by the blood on their hands, neither quite human anymore.

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

[sitkowski]

and i was making you a wish in every skyline ( jolly karlsson x noah sebastian )

pairing: jolly karlsson x noah sebastian cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ dom/sub undertones, a blip of angst, subby noah who’s a little bit of a brat, hair tie as a cock ring (don't try this at home kids), spitting, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, blowjobs, masturbation, praise kink. word count: 1.7k author's note: happy sunday, i'm still not over the new content so have some jolly and noah smut. deeply inspired by @ladyveronikawrites giving me the idea of a use for "the boyfriend's hair tie". title comes from "how big, how blue, how beautiful" by florence and the machine. divider by @cyberangel-graphics.

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || read on ao3

Jolly has ulterior motives when he tells Noah there’s something wrong with the song and he wants him to stay behind to listen to it. He feels a little bad when he sees the immediate anxiety spread across Noah’s face as everyone is leaving. He isn’t trying to stress him out, he’s trying to get Noah alone. As soon as everyone’s gone, Noah makes a beeline for the computer, shoulders tense. Before he can touch the keyboard, Jolly’s grabbing one of his wrists, twisting it behind his back effectively enough to draw a surprised whine out of Noah’s throat.

“The song is perfect, I lied,” Jolly whispers in his ear, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just beneath it. “But you’re still not done here tonight.”

He feels Noah slowly relax into him and he uses his hold on Noah’s wrist to pull him away from the desk until he’s got him in the middle of the recording room. The led lights cast him in the soft, purple glow and Jolly’s never seen anything more beautiful. He walks a circle around him and he doesn’t even need to say anything, Noah just keeps both of his arms behind his back, one wrist clasping the other as he squares his shoulders.

“You’re amazing, you know?” Jolly stops in front of him so he can see his reaction, the way he inhales sharply before a bashful smile spreads across his face. He tries to duck his head, but Jolly tucks a hand beneath his chin. “Ah no. Eyes on me, baby. You know the rules.”

Nodding, Noah meets his gaze head on. “Do I have to repeat it?”

“You do.”

There was a time when he wouldn’t have, when Jolly had to wring the words out of him and even then it had been a struggle because Noah didn’t believe it. He worked hard to get him to understand he deserved every bit of praise anyone gave him. Noah would see it as ego, but Jolly had explained it to him that it was more that Noah should be able to show himself that he deserved the praise.

“I’m amazing.” he says it confidently, still blushing. “What do I get for saying it?”

Jolly likes when he gets sassy with him, when he makes it fun. He likes to let him set the tone of how this is going to go. He walks around him again, fingers tiptoeing along Noah’s shoulders until he laughs and lets out some of the tension there that he’s still holding. He only lets go of his wrist when Jolly starts to pull the hair tie free from it. Noah doesn’t have to be told to resume his previous position, he just does it.

“You look good like this,” Jolly says, stepping close enough that his chest presses into Noah’s, and his hands slide over his hips, curling around them and tugging Noah even closer. He moans and does his best to stay still, until Jolly reaches between them to palm his cock. His fingers close around him, stroking him over his pants. Noah doesn’t look away from him, but Jolly can see it in his eyes that he’s going to move, seconds before he does it.

Noah’s mouth collides with Jolly’s desperately, and he lets him. He kisses him back for a few minutes before he puts his hand around Noah’s jaw and pushes his head back. Noah whines again but Jolly only shakes his head. He leans in long enough to brush his nose against his.

“Take off your clothes for me.”

Noah takes off his hat and tosses it aside, before reaching back to pull his shirt up and off. Jolly watches him greedily as he leaves everything on the floor. His eyes track over tattoos that he’s memorized with his hands and his mouth, down to his cock which he’s become just as acquainted with. Noah stays still under his appraisal, waiting.

“You know what I’m going to do with this, right?” Jolly asks as he twirls the hair tie around on his finger. Noah nods. “You can say no, but I’d like you to try it for me.”

“Okay. You can put it on me.”

It’s a little unconventional, but it gets the job done. Noah whimpers as Jolly fits it around the base of his cock, and he has to check that it’s not going to hurt him while also making sure that there’s something to remove it should he need to be nearby.

“The minute this starts to feel more than just uncomfortable, take it off for yourself, okay? Don’t wait to tell me.”

“Yes,” Noah breathes out. 

Jolly sets an alarm on his phone for thirty minutes. That’s all he’ll risk him wearing the hair tie for. As it is, Noah’s grown more flush, and he’s getting twitchy. Jolly ghosts his fingers along his length, fascinated with the way it jumps beneath his touch.

“Perfect,” Jolly murmurs, giving Noah a chaste kiss. “Why don’t you get on your knees for me, baby? If you can make me come before the alarm goes off, you’ll get to come before we leave.”

Noah’s eyes gleam at the challenge. Jolly thinks that he’s just going to get on his knees right there but he doesn’t, not at first. Putting his hands on Jolly’s hips, he backs him up until he sits down on the sofa, and then he sinks down to kneel between his spread legs. Jolly puts his phone on the cushion beside him and reaches down to shove his sweatpants down his thighs. Noah immediately reaches up to grab onto his cock. He gives it a light squeeze and works his hand up and down a few times, rising up further on his knees.

“Wait,” Jolly curls a hand around the edge of Noah’s jaw, sitting up a little. Noah seems to know what he’s going to do without him having to say and he opens his mouth. The noise that he makes when Jolly spits on his tongue makes his cock twitch, and he presses his fingers beneath Noah’s chin to close his mouth for him. “Okay, go ahead.”

He watches as Noah gathers his own saliva in his mouth to mix with Jolly’s and spits it onto the head of Jolly’s cock. Never looking away from him, Noah drags his tongue down to the base and back up, spreading the spit around as he licks over the head slowly. Despite the current time limit he's been giving, he's taking his sweet time. He teases at the underside of Jolly's cock with his tongue and then takes him in slowly.

He settles in a steady rhythm, and if Jolly didn't know any better he'd think he's going to miss the alarm on purpose. He digs his fingers into the cushion beside him, eyes flicking from Noah's face to his phone before meeting Noah's eyes again.

"Hands behind your back again," he groans out.

Noah whines around his cock, doing what he was told. and Jolly immediately threads his hands into Noah's hair to try to guide him faster. He can hear him breathing raggedly through his nose, tears streaming down his face. He’s trying to be careful in how far he’s pushing him, but Noah presses his head back against Jolly’s hands until he’s able to pull off enough to suck in a breath. He’s crying now, which is something he does and something Jolly’s always been into.

“You can make me take it, Jolls,” his voice is absolutely wrecked and if they’re recording tomorrow then Jolly is going to be in big trouble. “It’s okay.”

Growling out a curse, Jolly takes him at his word. His fingers tighten in Noah’s hair and he shoves his head back down, until Noah gags around him. Jolly can hear the little sounds he's making in his throat, whining groans that push him closer to the edge, and Noah works to take him further into his throat. He's so proud of him and he thumbs the tears from Noah's cheek and licks them off his fingers.

“My beautiful boy,” Jolly whispers and he can see the pride in his eyes as he bobs his head. “Are you still okay down there?”

He nods as best he can, and Jolly looks towards his phone. Noah’s only got a few minutes left to go, and Jolly’s aware of his hand coming from behind his back to fumble to get the hair tie off. He immediately gets back in his previous position, humming around Jolly’s cock and moving his head faster. Jolly doesn’t even get a chance to warn him when he comes, but Noah doesn’t even blink, he just swallows it all and keeps sucking until Jolly has to give his hair a none too gentle tug.

The alarm sounds through the room loudly.

Noah pulls off, laughing breathlessly as he presses his face against Jolly’s knee. His face is a mess of spit, tears and come, and Jolly pets his fingers through his hair until he finally looks up at him.

“Looks like I won,” Noah murmurs. “Do I get to come?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

Narrowing his eyes at Jolly’s nonchalance while he pulls up his sweatpants, Noah runs his hands through the mess on his face before reaching down and wrapping his fingers around his cock. Jolly pulls him up so he's back on his knees and so he'll be able to watch. Noah strokes himself hard and fast, his gasps and pants echoing between them. Jolly wants to tease him about being nicer to himself, but he's too distracted by how good he looks. He cups Noah’s face in his hand, looking down between them and watching the blur of Noah’s fist.

"You're incredible, you're so fucking incredible. Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

Noah lets out a noise, high pitched and desperate and comes all over his fist practically on command. He'd never done that before and Jolly watches on in awe as he slumps forward half in Jolly's lap. He tips Noah’s head back so he can kiss him, soft and slow until they need to pull away to catch their breath.

“C’mon, let’s get dressed and go home,” Jolly says, grabbing some tissues and passing them off to Noah.

He helps him back into his clothes and they lock up for the night. By the time they get home and get into a shower, Noah’s tired and boneless and Jolly makes sure he eats something for a later dinner before he bundles him in comfy clothes and into their bed. Noah’s unresistant as Jolly wraps himself around him and pulls the blankets up over them.

⇉ taglist

@ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @dominuslunae@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @kinseysucks @collapsedglasshouses@thatchickwiththecamera @th4t-em0-k1d @blackveilomens @illmakeyousaywow

@malice-ov-mercy @itsjustforce @darksigns-exe @baddestomens@collidewiththesavannah @sorrowsofsilence @fadingangelwisp@wonh0z @xxrainstorm @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @concretejunglefm

@kait16xo @lacy1986

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[serickswrites]

Walk III

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: hostage situation, gun, gunshot, blood, wounds, collapse, unclear character status

"Don't shoot Whumpee, Whumper. Please!"

Whumpee's heart sunk. Caretaker had arrived. But they were unarmed and unprepared for the gun that Whumper had.

"Do you have what I want?" Whumper didn't take their eyes off Whumpee. They knew Caretaker would be unarmed. How had they known?

"You know I do."

"Then hand it over."

Caretaker's lips were a thin line. "I don't have it with me. If you give me Whumpee, I will--"

"You have what I want and you expect me to hand over what you want without getting it? Are you stupid? Do you think I'm stupid?" Whumper asked angrily. They kept the gun pointed at Whumpee.

"No, of course not! I don't think you're stupid," Caretaker backpedaled quickly. They stared at Whumpee with horror filled eyes. "It's just I--"

"Am not prepared. You have two choices, Caretaker. You let Whumpee and me walk away and then you bring me what I want. Or you get what I want now."

"Whumper, let's talk. We can talk about this. I think--"

The gun going off was louder than Whumpee expected. They felt the bullet rip through their chest. Felt the pain burning as Caretaker screamed for them. They could barely feel anything as the ground suddenly rushed up to meet them. And then all they knew was darkness.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat @sowhumpful @gala1981 @andithewhumper @pigeonwhumps

@dragonfireridge @whumpity-whumpwhump @sadist-by-night @collectingblorbolikerocks @whumpy-daydreams

@whimp-whamp-whump @sapphirechao @the-crystal-w1tch-whump @the-whumperfly-effect @jaypostssometimes

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @madmadder @freefallingup13 @whumptastic-world @anton-inspiration-sigma

@utopian819 @whump7401 @danswhumpdump @angrbodawrites @whump-me

@whumpy-wyrms @sweetwhumpandhellacomf @hostagesituations @joelle2038 @jesse-wilder

@painless-innit-colourful @whumblr @bloodinthemud @whump-whump-whump-it-up @eyehartart

@undeadunhingedchaos @whimp-whamp-whump

[squarebracket-trickster]

Actually, you know what, fuck it, I do have some writing advice:

Some things to try when you are so stuck it's eating you alive:

The "Autofill" Warm-up

I don't actually know if this has a proper name, but this is what I call it:

pull up a blank page and just start typing the first words to pop into your head.

Don't care if it's coherent or in any way related to your WIP. Just type. Pretend you are pressing the autocomplete option on your phone over and over again just to see what it types out.

Do at least 200 words of this. Do it until you get "in the zone" and the words start coming without trying.

If your paragraph doesn't read like it was written by a rather incoherent autocomplete by the time you're done, keep going until it does.

You can use this "warm up" before you start a writing (drafting or revision) session, and/or any time your writing starts to feel stale, or you just can't think of what to say next.

This probably won't give you any ideas, per se, but it will get you thinking faster and outside the box. I find it helps my prose flow more naturally, and I think up more interesting ways to say things.

--

The "15 ways to say it" Strategy

Again, this one probably has a proper name, but I don't know it. I learned this in high school for coming up with good thesis statements for essays.

This one is for when you know what to say, but you have no idea how to phrase it, and you hate everything you've come up with:

Come up with A sentence (or two or three) that gets the idea across. Doesn't matter if it's the choppiest, jankiest, most awkward or dull, gramatically incorrect nonsense you've ever laid eyes on. Write it down.

Rewrite the damn thing 5, 10, or 15 ways, depending on what you have the patience for/how much you care.

Don't worry about making it sound nice or about grammar or anything. Just think of 5/10/15 ways to get the same idea across off the top of your head.

They don't even have to be full sentences, you can write more than one sentence, and if you start an iteration and hate where it's going you can leave it half done and start another.

DELETE NOTHING!!!! You may want to see that version again!!

Eventually, you will start seeing combinations of words you like.

If you suddenly come up with the perfect phrase. Great! You can stop. Otherwise, once you have enough fragments you like, try stringing them together.

If you still don't like it but feel you are getting close take the new strung-together sentence(s) and start again, rewriting it 5/10/15 times.

Keep repeating until either you are happy, or you've hit your goal (5, 10, or 15 iterations) and still don't see anything you can work with.

If you get stuck before you hit your goal, try any of these:

rearrange a few words or replace a word with a synonymm

reimagine it in the voice of Shakespeare, Dr. Doofenshmirtz, some condescending guy on Reddit, or whomever sounds fun

Get out your frustration. Write the damn thing in ALL CAPS. Swear. Sound condescending and angry. Don't censor yourself.

The "tell me without telling me / imagine it's illegal to say what you mean" method (i.e. write around the meaning). Also, the "how can I use setting/character description, actions, to show this without directly stating it" method.

--

The "Turn off your brain" Strategy

Another one of my names, and a distant cousin to the "Autofill Warm-up".

Stare blankly at your page. Let all thought leave you. You must not think. Thought is the inspiration killer. Thought is the little box full of nothing you haven't already tried.

Now, place your hands on the keyboard and press a key, or grab your pen and write a random letter.

Add another letter, mostly at random, but make sure there are actually words that start with those two letters together.

Let your brain autocomplete the rest of the word.

Repeat 2-4 with each subsequent word, but make sure they all make at least some attempt at gramatical sense when put together.

2-5 are more suggestions than hard rules. If your brain autocompletes a whole phrase use it if you like it. If you don't like the word your brain came up with, pick again.

Eventually a word or group of words may appear that might actually sort of fit in the place you are stuck, albeit with some major tweeking.

There. Now, you have a new idea you've never had before.

Sometimes I will write paragraphs expanding on an idea using this method, and then I will put those paragraphs through a few rounds of "5/10/15 ways to say it". These always end up being my best paragraphs for some reason.

[heartavenue]

☆ Cosmic ☆

"I'm riding on your rhythm through the solar system, come with me"

This post was inspired by my lovely friend on Twitter @/ollsmd (@keatingspupil on Tumblr) his chem teacher and Red Velvet. Ollie sorry this took me so long but I hope you enjoy it! <3

I was doing my daily doom scrolling on Twitter when my moot posted this, "when my first chem teacher had us all close our eyes and said how he was in every possible point in that room until we opened our eyes and focus on him really helped be understand how i am in all these realities."

and I thought that was everything. so we're going to do a little exercise okay? I want you all to close your eyes. now, what do you see? nothing, because you ARE nothing. and when I say this I don't mean it as you don't matter, I say you are nothing because you're in the void

you have no body, you have no mind, you are pure consciousness.

Now let's analyze what the chem teacher said, "he was in every possible point in that room until we opened our eyes and focus on him"

You are everywhere, all at once. You are the version of you that is famous, you are the version of you that is a god that watches over billions of people, you are the version of you that's a siren, you are every version of yourself that you could possibly imagine.

It is when you open your eyes that you realize that you are in a certain place at a certain point of time, but that is not true.

The senses are false, but you know what is real? Your awareness.

you have eyes, but you do not see. you have ears, but you do not listen, you have a nose, but you do not smell, you have the ability to touch, yet you do not feel. you have a tongue, but you do not taste. do not limit yourself to illusions.

you remember when you closed your eyes earlier (I hope you did, if you didn't do it now...or else..) that was the real you, nothingness, and because you are nothing. you are EVERYTHING.

and look, I know that I sound insane. How can you be both nothing and everything? Nothingness = not physical. When you are dreaming you can't perceive your senses, yet you still exist. That is how you know that you aren't your physical body. You don't need them as proof of your existence, your awareness is proof in itself.

you are senseless, so you are nothing, and being nothing makes you everything. Think about it, nothing ALWAYS exists and it ALWAYS will be. Before the world there was nothing, and after it ends there will be nothing. Nothing is the constant here, nothing is YOU.

You are the cosmos, the planets, the stars, and everything in between. You are limitless, you know no bounds, you exist on levels that the human brain cannot even comprehend. you are everywhere.

Okay I hope this made sense lol, and I hope you all like this! I think this is one of my favorite posts that I ever made!