#i’ll post it here too in the next days but

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Therapy Files 1: Dead Enough to be Alive

Screenshot Credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy is headed to his first therapy appointment and his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tries to soothe him while he freaks out about it. (873 Words)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of vomit, passive suicidal thoughts, impending mental breakdown (no breakdown in this one), fem reader/generic lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! Sideblog for social stuff: @m-z-shoroi. If you want to filter out the therapy posts, the tag is #cb therapy files.

Day 1

I almost threw up the day of therapy.

It's funny how al-anon meetings didn't fuck me up this bad. Being a no-face in a room full of faceless sufferers somehow made it easier to summon and examine the pain of Mikey dying, of cooking consuming every aspect of my being until all that was left was this chewed lump of mangled muscle and bone fighting for some form of continued existence. I could rip it from my chest, hold it in my hand, turn it in the light. Look at all the faces, the thin spots, the gouges, the dents. Half the people there weren’t listening to me at all, were lost in the turmoil of their own pain and suffering, of the loved ones that were too far away to reach or so unreachable that they were gone. I didn’t mind it.

Half the time, I just needed to hear what I had to say, anyway. Something about the words coming out of my mouth, as stuttered, incomplete, inadequate as they were; something about hearing my own voice say them to me, of my voice hitting my ears—that was the important part. I’ve been through hell and back, I understand clearer than anyone else that I’m the most powerful climber I know. I don’t need someone to grab my hand and pull me out of this mess; I just need someone to know that I’m here. I need someone to witness my existence, my pain, my misery. I just need someone to come looking for me if I go quiet for too long. Just a face over the edge of the cliff. They don’t need to say nothing. They just need to exist.

I’m just dead enough to be alive at all, and in a room full of ghosts, that’s an easier thing to reconcile than trying to explain that to a fucking therapist (who’ll probably put me on some sort of watch list after probing me with a thousand questions about whether or not I want to die, how I plan to do it, how much of my plan I’ve enacted). I shouldn’t be pissed. It’s their job. Fuck only knows how many times they’ve had their 3:00 not show up only to find out the next day that their 3:00 would never show up for anything again. But how else do I explain these brambles of mortality, this barbed wire anchored in my skin. I can’t escape death.

He owes me a brother.

He owes me some fucking answers.

 Darling's hand landed on my thigh. "Baby, you're going to crack your knees on the dashboard if you don't stop bouncing your leg like that."

And I'm fucking terrified of therapy.

"Why are you terrified, sweetheart?"

Shit, I said that aloud, didn't I? "I just... I don't know." I raked my hair back. "I don't know."

"It's a little too late to cancel the appointment now—"

"I know, I know, I know." I pressed the heels of my hands into my cheekbones. I know. I’m not saying I’m not going to go; I’m saying I’m terrified. Those are different things.

She squeezed my knee. "Breathe, pretty boy."

I heaved a breath.

"You're gonna be okay, baby.”

"What if I'm not?"

It took her a bit to answer. "Then we'll do what we can to make it okay."

She can’t make promises, but right about now I need some of those. Promise me I’ll be okay? Promise me it’s not as bad as it seems?

The car turned, then stopped. Her cold fingers curled around my wrist.

"Hey. Look at me, Bear?"

I dropped my hands, but I couldn't make myself look over. Don't know why; it probably would've calmed me down to see her pretty face, but my eyes stayed glued to the hood of the car parked in front of us, the icicles hanging in front of the grill. Teeth. Fuck, I was clenching my jaw again. Heat surged in my chest, crawled up into my neck, only this time, the panic didn’t come with it—my eyes just stung. I only felt a breakdown coming.

She interlocked her hand with mine, brought the back of it to her warm lips. Pressed a kiss to it, just to the side, behind my thumb. She returned it with a plum-pink lipstick print on it. Jagged, sharp, blurred edges, but distinctly hers.

"Do you think that'll help?" She whispered, carding through my curls, tucking them behind my ear.

I’m trying not to have a meltdown, baby girl, I’m useless.

She pulled my shirt collar down and planted another one on my sternum, just below where the neckline would be. It bloomed a wave of coolness in my chest. A comfortable cold. This wasn’t ice against my chest; ice is sharp, jagged, a frozen lightning bolt. The kiss was milder, softer. Diffuse.

She replaced my shirt, pecked my mouth. “How about that one?”

How about you give me another one after this fucking appointment, hm?

Tags: @jess248, @catharticconsolation, @persymons, @morgthemagpie, @glitch0o0, @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly

[hannahssimblr]

Winter. 

When did this happen? Was I looking away for long enough for the season to change without my notice? I haven’t spent enough time here watching time, from this old velvet seat by the window that overlooks brutalist blocks, each building identical to the next. These utilitarian slabs might stand like this, grey cubes jutting from the asphalt, for five hundred years. I’m here for five months now. Thoroughly settled, used to this place, this apartment with the tarry flavour of cigarettes clinging to the furniture the landlady never took away. 

Jonas says she’s strange, this woman who has left all of her old things for us to live around. Her lamps, with sun-faded shades, her record collection, the chenille bedspreads stuffed into a closet, and the ancient television I replaced the day after I landed. I’ve never met her. Sometimes, I slip a dusty bottle from her wine rack in the cellar and serve it to my friends at dinner. Surely, by the time she ever notices, I’ll be long gone.

Through the vignette of condensation, the snow drifts, white flecks, across the beam of the streetlights. Kreuzberg is quiet. Sunday. 

I refocus my eyes to look into my face, a mirror reflection in the black window. I look older, perhaps, than in the photographs Jen posted to me in September, the ones from the summer, where the light is hazy and our noses are sun blushed, from that time that feels like another lifetime already, or like fiction. At Christmas, I returned to Ireland, and it rained for two weeks without stopping, and it felt something more like reality.

My grandmother told me that my hair was straggly, and she’s right. It’s been too long since I’ve cut it, but the ends of my hair spent the summer with me. Even though my skin cells have replaced themselves, the parts of my hair touching the collar of my coat and curling around my ears hold the memories that the rest of me is slowly losing. 

I haven’t stayed in touch with my friends from there as much as I would have liked. These days are busy, with friends, with college. I draw and paint more than I ever have, lashing out piece after piece, sketchbook after sketchbook, building a tower upon the desk in my cold little bedroom, though the women in my pieces don’t have green eyes anymore. Now, I choose blue.

The door buzzes, and I stand to answer it. 

My finger on the button, “Yeah?”

“Hurry! Open up, it’s fucking cold.”

I buzz her in, then stand waiting by the open door as she ascends the stairway. Three floors. I hear her the whole way, the snap of boot heels against tile. There’s an elevator in her building, and I feel acutely guilty about my building’s lack of one, despite being entirely powerless to do anything about it, as I am an art student, not an engineer, and was not yet actually born during its construction. 

She appears on the landing, shivering, with snowflakes clinging to her hair, and sitting on the structured shoulders of her trench coat. 

“Ugh, oh God, those stairs. I hate them.” She says. She unzips her boot and tosses onto the pile of shoes next to the door, and I notice immediately that she’s barefoot, toes balanced on the tiles like a ballerina. 

“You didn’t wear socks?”

She’s not wearing tights either. Her long, pale legs poke, completely exposed beneath the beige gabardine. 

“Did you take the U-Bahn like this? It must be five below zero.”

Her second boot hits the tile with a clatter, and she backs me into my apartment. As the door clicks shut, she pulls on the tie of her coat.

She’s wearing nothing but black lingerie. 

“Ah,” I am enlightened. This now makes perfect sense to me, in much the same way it does to her. Astrid has a way of bringing me around to her way of thinking. 

This was actually an excellent idea. 

“I was bored,” she says, which makes sense too. She is always bored. This is why she does what she’s seen people do in films. It’s a way to keep herself entertained. An unwelcome thought flashes into my mind, as I wonder if she has done this specific thing for previous boyfriends. I hop off that path. With Astrid, it is important to dwell only upon the present. Anything before this, now, me, us, is nothing worth worrying about. 

I slip my hands under her coat, onto the soft, downy velvet of her skin. 

“Nice and warm,” she murmurs. 

“Astrid, you shouldn’t have gone out like this.”

“It was only thirty minutes.”

“I know, but,” Her hands are freezing between mine as I heat them with my breath. “It’s too cold.” I’ll have to give her something of mine to wear when she goes home, but begin to worry that nothing is clean. I have been avoiding taking my dirty clothes to the basement since I flew back in ten days ago, too cowardly to face the seizing cold of the communal laundry room and that ever present leak in the ceiling surely turned to an icicle by now. 

These are not sexy thoughts. 

It’s like she can tell just by looking at me. “The point is, you will heat me up,” she says, a bit slowly, like I’m thick.

I don’t want to be the guy that lacks spontaneity. That would make me anxious. She pulls her hands from mine and pouts at me, as though at a little dog. “Look at you, you’re so nice.”

It’s not intended as a compliment, and I understand I should be doing something a bit wilder, like, I don’t know, taking my own clothes off already. Why on earth haven’t I started to do that?

Ah, because I am nice. 

“Okay, fuck your hands then. They can freeze.” Often, jokes are a mistake around Astrid. She rarely laughs at them. In fact, she rarely smiles at all, and only indulges us when she feels like doing it. It’s never to be polite. She knows her own mind. I’m obsessed with her. 

I’m obsessed to an ever greater extent now, because, once again, she’s not laughing. She’s not trying to please me. It’s me, always, trying to please her instead. I tug on her coat and it pools to the floor, then I kiss her. 

“God, I love you.” 

I murmur it, the truth. 

I knew it the third or fourth night we spent together, in November, as the last stubborn leaves clung to the branches. She wasn’t like anybody I had ever met before. She reminded me of nobody, and that was the point. 

I felt it, that weakness, my molten insides, and the deep fear of it in the early hours of one morning as she lay on the sheets with moonlight spilling across her back. She has a tattoo between her shoulder blades of a heart pierced by three daggers. She says it’s from a tarot card, and she was younger and stupider when she got it. That night, as she slept, I uncovered some kind of symbolism in it that moved me, but in the morning light I had forgotten all the profound thoughts I’d come up with except one: That I loved her. It surprised me. I ignored the tiny pang of sadness I felt, like mourning for a part of my life that was already long gone. It was useless to miss it.

I chose Astrid instead. 

I choose her now, love her in the same way I kiss her and touch her and fuck her, by doing what she wants me to do. It’s not a submissive situation. I’m not into that stuff. I am a man clocking in and doing as he's asked, thoroughly, diligently, excelling at his job. Eager to please. Employee of the month.

“Will you put your hand on my throat?” She breathes. Beneath me, her hands claw the bedsheets. 

Yes, I think. That would be nice. 

I am interested to discover that I like it too. I don’t think the other girls I’ve slept with would have let me try the things that Astrid does. They couldn’t picture themselves doing it, I’m sure, and neither could I. Back then I didn’t think about sex the way I do now, but Berlin has been bringing it out in me. 

She comes first. That’s mandatory. Then afterwards, when I have, and thoughts return to my brain, I’ll lay here, haunted by the years I didn’t know about this golden rule, and all the time that I thought I was good at sex but wasn’t. Dwelling on the disappointment I brought upon women and girls will make me spiral a bit, I’ll feel it rising, but I’ll feel better when I fuck Astrid again, in some new, fascinating position, and she’ll tell me I’m pretty good, in fact.

She’ll be loud enough about it that Klaus from downstairs may complain, and point out that such volume levels are forbidden on Sundays. He’ll threaten to raise it with the building management, so I’ll bring up the fact I know it was he who put cat food containers in the recycling bin. Neither of us will do anything, and the cycle will repeat until one of us moves or dies.

“Klaus is a miserable, jealous old fool,” Astrid says. “He probably doesn’t have sex, so he’s furious at people who do. I think it’s basic psychology.”

“He lives with his wife, you know.”

“Oh, that doesn’t mean he’s having sex. Married people don’t do it. Or at least hardly ever. That’s why I’ll never be tied down like that.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“You think Mr and Mrs Klaus are fucking like rabbits down there?”

I scrunch up my face. “I’ve never heard them. Maybe they do it very quietly while I’m out of the apartment.”

“They never do. I bet they hate one another. Surely they sleep in separate rooms and only speak when they have to.” Astrid invents this story with glee. She is describing what is to her an indisputable fact of life. Her parents, and her mother’s relationship with her stepfather, too. I think she believed these things about marriage before meeting me, but the confirmation that my parents are the same has solidified it. 

“I don’t like to think about things in such a black and white way,” I say, and hold my palm against hers. Her fingers are long and slender. “Just because a lot of marriages are bad, doesn’t mean they’re all doomed. I believe some people are happy.”

“Trapped,” she whispers. “Like canaries in a cage. Maybe they don’t know any better.”

“If I was married, it’d be because I loved that person completely. I wouldn’t do it unless I was sure, and if I loved someone that much, I think I’d still have sex all the time. I can’t really picture that changing. When would I ever not be doing it, you know?”

She hums gently. “So you would never join a monastery.”

“Ugh.”

“And if you married me, you’d want me like this forever?”

This isn’t a serious question about marriage. That would be ridiculous. This is a test for me to pass, and am about to, with flying colours.  

“Yeah, you’re so appealing in every way. I can’t imagine not being completely crazy about you forever.”

“You definitely wouldn’t get over me if I left you.”

“Nah, probably not. In my grief, I might even refuse to sign the divorce papers or some shit.”

She nods, satisfied, and rests her head on my chest. It slots nicely beneath my chin. “I want to go to sleep,” she says.

“Alright, me too.”

I switch off the light and listen to the pitter patter of the snow on the window, drifting slowly away with it.

Astrid shifts, restless. 

“Tomorrow, I have a lecture at eight.”

“Unlucky.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“Ah, yeah, probably because of the lingerie stunt.”

A pout. “It was a gift for you.”

“And I loved it. I can find you something to wear.”

“To my class? Your clothes? I’ll look ridiculous. Can you get me a taxi to my house so I can change?”

“Yeah, of course. If you wear my clothes in the taxi.”

“I won’t be naked under my coat in front of a strange man, Jude.”

“Okay. Good. I’ll arrange a taxi, then.”

“That’s sweet of you.” She adjusts her position again, and the subtle contact of our bodies sets off a chain of sensation. I rake my nails lightly over her back, and she shudders. 

“You’re so pretty,” I say. “Did you know that?” I know she does, but I like the smug way she always says yes. 

“It’s okay if I leave my underwear here?”

“If you want to, yeah. Why? Do you think I wanted to carry it around in my pocket or something?”

“So you can wash it for me.”

“Yeah,” I press my lips to the back of her hand. “I’ve been meaning to go to the laundry basement for too long now. I’ll just add them to the pile.”

“No, you need to hand-wash them. They’re made of lace.”

“Oh right. So like, in the sink, or something.”

“I thought you might have known that.”

“Nah, see, in Dublin, we had a cleaner who washed all of my lace underwear for me.”

“Mm…”

“... That was a joke about the lace underwear. We did actually have a cleaner, though.”

“You’ll take care of it? They were quite expensive. It’s not as though I have a lot of that kind, so if it got ruined…”

“I will.”

She slips a hand into my hair and seeks my lips in the dark. She kisses me with such affection that I melt into her. “I love you, Jude. Thank you.”

“I love you too.”

A low chuckle as I bite her earlobe. “You really would never be a monk, would you?”

“Oh, my God. The thought makes me sick.”

I roll over her, and we give Klaus one more thing to complain about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[hellsitedotcom]

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*·˚ AFTERMATH ft. Aventurine *·˚

words: ~1.6

This is a "continuation" of those First Kiss headcanons I made a couple days back! [Linked in my pinned post]

warnings/info: mentions of drinking, fluff? romance? idk how this works. [AO3 @.evefiction]

English isn't my native language!

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Faint, golden light filtered through the blinds covering the bedroom’s windows, soft rays dancing their way toward your face, leaving a warm, tickling sensation anywhere they touched your skin, gently awakening you from a deep slumber. Instinctively, you moved to scratch your nose, hoping the itchiness would subside as you mourned the few more hours of sleep you could’ve had if it weren’t for the light rays. 

As you slowly opened your eyes, your mind took a minute to process its surroundings, the room you found yourself in an unfamiliar space you don’t remember visiting before. The walls had a foreign, bright color to themselves, the decoration somewhat unique – extravagant. You didn’t remember having ever been to a room like this, nor do you believe any of your companions would decorate their room in such a manner. 

You tried remembering what happened yesterday night, though only tidbits of memories floated around your head. Not to mention the throbbing headache making its presence known now that you were awake. You cursed under your breath, trying to shift around the bed you were lying in, when sudden pressure against your back and waist made you freeze.

‘’Stop moving around so much,’’ a groggy voice mumbled into your nape, its sound all too familiar, ‘’It’s too soon to wake up again.’’ You took a moment to process your new discovery, slightly tilting your head, only to find Aventurine lying behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist, face nuzzled against your neck. 

Your confusion only grew, brows furrowing as you tried to recall more memories while the man tried to fall asleep again. ‘’What are you doing?’’ you inquired, a little lost, ‘’And where even are we? More importantly: Why are you here?’’ You remembered going to a bar with him and, much to your embarrassment, remembered kissing him, but beyond that, your memory was foggy. 

A sigh escaped Aventurine’s lips, quietly complaining about being woken up before he spoke, ‘’We’re in my apartment. Yours was too far away, so we agreed you’d stay the night. Nothing else happened. We were both just tired, and I didn’t really want you walking all the way back alone when I know I have enough space here.’’

You just huffed at his response. ‘’That doesn’t explain your proximity,’’ you thought, though you found yourself almost…happy that he didn’t pull away. Careful not to inconvenience him, you turned onto your back, Aventurine’s grip easing the slightest bit at your movement. 

Tilting your head, you came face-to-face with the man, his eyes barely open, a smirk on his lips, ‘’Hey, sunshine.’’

‘’Hey yourself,’’ you muttered quietly, nervousness briefly taking over your expression as your gaze roamed over his face, ‘’Slept well?’’

‘’Like a baby,’’ he chuckled, moving his hand to brush strands of hair from your eyes. In the dim light, he looked ethereal, more at peace than you had ever seen the blonde man. ‘’And you?’’ his voice was gentle, fingers lingering on your cheek before he pulled away, leaving a burning sensation where he had just touched you, ‘’I hope this was to your standards.’’

Your mind was racing, telling you that you shouldn’t be here, that you should get up and leave. But, as you held the man’s gaze, losing yourself in the ocean of his eyes, you found yourself hoping this moment wouldn’t end. ‘’Listen, the Express doesn’t really have luxury beds,’’ you amusedly replied, your lips twitching, ‘’Besides, I think drunk me would’ve slept on concrete and been happy with it.’’ 

‘’I’ll keep that in mind for next time,’’ Aventurine sleepily laughed, ‘’But I think I’d rather have you sleep in an actual bed.’’ As he turned to stare at the ceiling, you found yourself unable to look away from him, a thoughtful expression on your face. 

This was…You couldn’t even put it into words. You weren’t really…friends, were you? But here you were now, lying next to each other without a care in the world. You were enjoying it even, missing his touch as he pulled away entirely, struggling to fight back the urge to reach for him. You did not want to interrupt the beautiful serenity of the moment, but you knew you eventually had to.

What were you even going to say? ‘’I’ve been meaning to kiss you for a while now’’? You couldn’t possibly admit that, could you? He was, ultimately, still a member of the IPC, and you were a member of the Astral Express. Even if there was a tiny chance that he reciprocated your feelings, there wasn’t really much you could do, was there? The way of the trailblaze didn’t really offer much room for…well, this. Or maybe you were just self-sabotaging again.

A sigh escaped your lips without realizing it, too lost in your spiraling thoughts to notice. Only when Aventurine called out to you did you return to reality, ‘’Is everything alright?’’

‘’Huh? Oh yeah, yeah,’’ you reassured, waving your hand dismissively, ‘’I was just thinking.’’ 

This made him shift to the side, facing you again. There was a hint of worry in his expression, hand coming to rest beside yours, barely touching your skin. ‘’Well, penny for your thoughts?’’ 

You could feel your nervosity growing, knowing that you’ll eventually have to talk about yesterday night, about getting drunk, about…kissing. Well, neither of you seemed particularly bothered by it in the grand scheme of things, but it was a conversation that must be held regardless. 

‘’It’s nothing, really,’’ you tried playing it cool, avoiding his gaze as you looked at your hands, ‘’I was just thinking about yesterday night. I guess I didn’t expect it to…well, you know.’’

‘’End up with you in my bed?’’ he teased, though you could notice the hesitance in his words, ‘’Neither did I, if it makes you feel any better.’’ ‘’To be honest,’’ he continued, chuckling to himself, ‘’I wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss me, either.’’

Surprised, you dragged your eyes back up to his face, ‘’You…didn’t? Why not? I thought that’s why you did it in the first place.’’ It never even occurred to you that there might’ve been a different reason behind his choice of wish, besides him wanting to tease you.

Aventurine yawned weakly, slightly turning away again, ‘’Honestly, I guess a part of me did it to see how far you’d go. The other was just selfish.’’ Then he met your gaze again, uncertainty flickering across his expression, ‘’I’ve been hoping for a moment like that for a while. I guess I never had the guts to just…approach and kiss you without an excuse.’’ 

‘’Why not?’’ The words left your lips before you could stop them, and while you did curse yourself afterward, you didn’t take them back. Expectantly, you stared at him, trying to ignore the butterflies terrorizing your stomach, ‘’I thought you enjoy taking risks?’’

‘’The risk of scaring you off wasn’t something I was…willing to take,’’ he carefully replied, reaching to caress your cheek, ‘’I didn’t want to risk losing you, which is weird to admit ‘cause I’ve never felt like this, but it’s too late to turn back now, isn’t it?’’

His fingers ghosted over your cheek, his eyes not leaving yours as you processed his words. ‘’But asking me while I was drunk seemed like a good idea?’’ you muttered, both confused and amused by his thought process, ‘’Have I ever mentioned how your mind works in fascinating ways?’’

The man just groaned, but you could see the smile form on his lips, ‘’I was feeling confident, okay? Figured I could just…play it off if you decline.’’ ‘’Besides,’’ he interrupted, fully facing you again, ‘’You were the one that actually ended up kissing me. So, you’re not much better than me.’’

‘’I lost the game, big guy. That’s why I kissed you,’’ you argued, chuckling, ‘’No other reason.’’

‘’Sure, sure,’’ he hummed, unconvinced as he leaned closer, ‘’I could tell from how you were kissing me that you only did it for the bet. That’s why you didn’t stop until the IPC called.’’

‘’You’re imagining things,’’ you just replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling, ‘’Wishful thinking, perhaps? Or do I need to be worried that you drank too much? Should I call someone?’’

By now, Aventurine's lips were practically ghosting over yours, just waiting for you to give him a reason to close the gap, "Might I remind you that you weren't drinking any less than me? I'm sure your friends from the Express would love to hear that story."

"Don't you dare," you playfully warned him, nose brushing his, "Unless you want me to text Topaz everything."

"You wouldn't."

"Do you want to find out?"

"...No."

"That's what I thought," you chuckled, smirking, "Now, are you going to kiss me or not?"

Aventurine didn't even wait for you to finish your sentence before pressing his lips against yours, your entire body relaxing under his touch. "You don't have to be anywhere, right?" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you closer.

"Nope," you hummed against him, hands gently cuping his face, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, anyway."

The man just smiled before kissing you again, all his emotions conveyed in the simple gesture, taking your breath away as you held his face, thanking whatever higher power blessed you with meeting him.

You wanted to laugh, remembering how only minutes ago you had dismissed the possibility of Aventurine feeling the same as you. Yet, here you were now, in his arms as he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

And as the sun rose higher, you two found yourself not letting go of each other, aware of the long explanation you'd each have to come up with for your friends and superiors.

[phneltwrites]

Sunday Snippet

from exes fake dating! Which now has a title: land between our bodies. The first part is off to beta (yay) so hopefully starting to post this week

“For my… birthday. Uh. Because it’s—you know. Wilhelm Day.”

His cheeks are pink. Wilhelm is so pale so much shows up on it. Simon doesn’t even need to use his nails to leave lines on his skin.

“That’s so…”

“Weird. You can say it.”

“What do they want to do?”

Wilhelm shifts. “Concert, and a fun run, big dinner. Plus the walkabout thing with the singing.” Simon cringes. It was a thing he’d seen and hadn’t thought much about but having everyone sing at Wilhelm when they walked into the palace really brought home how weird it is to be an audience of one. The ratio must and should go the other way. “It’s super strange hearing them talk about it too. I kind of feel like Batman?” Simon laughs. “You know how Batman names everything after himself. Batmobile. Batsuit. Batcomputer, whatever. Here it’s the WilhelmConcert and the WilhelmRun and the WilhelmPrize. Like I’ll forget what I’m called.”

“Like when you’re in pre-school and you have to have your name written into everything you bring so they know whose is whose.”

“Exactly!”

They both giggle, leaning into the middle. Their shoulders touch. Neither of them move. 

Wilhelm’s hand is on the couch, bracing himself. Simon puts his down next to Wilhelm’s, not quite touching. He fancies he can feel the edge of Wilhelm’s pinky, but that might be a phantom sensation from imagining too hard.

[nerdnonymous00]

🛑🚨‼️ATTENTION PLEASE, JUST A QUICK READ‼️🚨🛑

hi im angie (she/they)! im a lesbian from the philippines. i’ve been a part of so many fandoms but im usually a silent like-r, reblogger, and supporter. i also make art at my sideblog, @angiedoesthingss. but now, im truly desperate and is currently asking for your help.

yesterday, after years of abuse from our narcissistic, homophobic grandma, i finally fought back and did my best to protect my mother and sister. it was a disaster and my grandma threatened us to leave her house (long story short, we live under her roof). i’ve always planned to move, but now, i need to bring my family to safety as soon as possible too.

we need to move for our safety and happiness by the first quarter of 2025. we’re planning to move back to our childhood home that we’ve currently put up for rent (the current renter is leaving soon - no worries). im planning to bring along my mom, my sister, our two cats and dog with me.

the thing is, im worried we wont be able to move because our funds have been so low. recently, i lost my main job because my boss was a creep. i only have a part time job now that only pays me $170 a month which is barely enough for me, much less my family. my sister just graduated college so she doesn’t have a job yet and my mom can’t get a job because it stresses and tires her out (she also deals with mental health problems - a result of this unstable environment).

my goal is to at least reach $500 to ensure that we’ll have enough money for the move and to sustain us for the next couple of months while we adjust to this new environment and heal. i would be so grateful and would appreciate any amount you can give for me and my family. 

it’s truly crazy how things can just change from one day to the next. a day before that altercation, i was cooking cordon bleu with my girlfriend at their house, watching arcane s2 act 1 - literally in lesbian bliss. and now im on a mission to save me and my family, to give all of us the freedom and life we deserve.

thank you for reading so far! and thank you so much for donating! im thankful too for any likes or reblogs you can give me to spread my little post. im hoping it will reach so many of you. i really hope we get to accomplish this goal.

i’ll be sure to keep updating this post as we reach certain milestones, maybe even reblogging with pictures of our pets! if youre from the philippines as well and would like to help, you can pm me and i’ll send you my GCASH information! again, thank you so much, i cant thank you, reader, enough!

(please click the photo for the link 🥹 if that doesnt work click here! thank you so much)

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 10

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

WARNING: This is a long chapter

First - Prev - Next

Ch.10

“Do you remember how you came to Gravity Falls in the first place?”

“I was just passing by.”

“Yes, but this town is isolated, and you have no means of transportation.”

“Trainhopping, I was hiding on a train for two days I think, maybe three? Decided to jump off here.”

“Do you know why you decided to do that here, and not anywhere else?”

“...”

“Stan?”

“It’s funny, specs - a couple months back, I’d already been with my pal Rick for a while, right? Just one heist, escapade, or criminal venture after another, for seven months straight. And it was great while it lasted, but then he asked me if I wanted to stay with him in another dim- someplace far away. And I wanted to, ya know? There’s always been this itch in the back of my mind that I wanted to go around the world on some grand adventure, and he was offering that to me on a silver platter. But I told him no.”

“And why was that, Stan?”

“...It’s stupid.”

“I wouldn’t call any of your reasoning stupid, I’m not here to judge you.”

“...I always wanted to go on an adventure- but something was missing. It’s like- I dunno if it’s intuition or some spiritual mumbo jumbo, it’s like I’m looking for something. But I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

“Do you have an idea what it could be?”

“A part of… me? I’m missing something. Not just my memories- but something else. I think I might have made a promise, I just… don’t remember what it was, or who I promised to. I guess I’ve been drifting around trying to find it.”

“And you felt it was in Gravity Falls?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. There’s something weird here… I just wanted to check this place out, is all.”

“I see. What did you say your relationship with this Rick was like?”

“You don’t need to be jealous, F. We were just friends. Okay, maybe we were kind of an item for a week at most, but that guy isn’t just self-destructive; he’s like a train that wrecks onto a freeway, he can never just destroy himself, he has to wreck the people around him too and create an absolute shit show. Even I have a limit with that shit.”

“You really need to stop putting yourself down like that, Stan. You only ever seem to say negative things about yourself, it ain’t good for you.”

“There isn’t anything good to say, stretch.”

“Don’t sell yourself one egg short of a basket, now. Y’know, your-. Uh, Stanford was telling me that you’re quite clever. He used a trick to get you down here in the first place, but he also said that he wouldn’t be able to trick you again.”

“I should have seen his fake-out coming… I’ll give it to him, it was a good one. But I’m not going to underestimate him, because crazy like his should never be underestimated. What’s he up to anyways? He went to that room that’s always locked.”

“That’s his private study. I believe he goes there when he wants to be alone.”

“...Didn’t he live by himself? Why did he already have that?”

“Can’t say, maybe it’s a quiet and calm space for him.”

(...)

“HE HAS RISEN BABY GIRL.”

“Bill, please stop calling me that. It’s unprofessional.”

“Come on Sixer, at least let the Goo Goo Dolls soundtrack play.”

“The what?”

“Ooop! My bad, it’s not 1998 or 2024 yet. How can I help you today, Fordsy? You haven’t called me in a few weeks.”

“There’s a mindscape I need to access.”

“Oh boy, it’s not usually you who wants to poke around other humans' brains, always prattling on about ethics and consent. What’s the occasion?”

“...You know everything I know when we’re in the mindscape, you already know the answer.”

“Yes, but I still want you to say it out loud. Clearly and concisely, so your dialogue can be read on screen.”

“... I need to get into the mind of my brother, Stanley. He has amnesia, and our leading theory is that it’s due to psychological trauma. But he has been through so much trauma we’re having trouble isolating the definitive event that would have started this.”

“And why wouldn’t he just share that with his beloved twin brother?”

“He does not remember me.”

“Oooh, then he is just like you! Isn't it just precious when twins are twinning?”

“I never forgot about him.”

“Oh Sixer… You might as well have.”

“Just take me to his mind, Cipher… Please.”

“Anything for you, baby boy!”

SNAP

(...)

“So your memories are only clear to a certain point?”

“Yeah. Rick found me wandering around the woods in a ‘catatonic state’, and snapped me out of it. Everything before that… I can remember being on the street, I can remember all the stuff I did, maybe out to a decade? But there’s a lot of holes, lotsa different names I used. And before the streets? Nothing.”

“And when did Rick find you in the woods?”

“What month is it?”

“June.”

“Last May - so about 13 months?”

(...)

“Okay Fordsy he hasn’t made a deal with me so we can’t go too deep, or his mental defenses are just gonna shove us out.”

“Bill, I already know that, why are you explaining it to me?”

“You know; doesn’t mean they know. Unless this is a re-read. In which case; welcome back. Glad you loved or hated it the first time.”

“You are… Beyond comprehension, Bill Cipher.”

“That’s what you love about me though.”

“You have my begrudging, professional respect.”

“From your aspec ass, that’s practically love.”

“Aspe-”

“Oooh! Lookie here, a memory door opened up. He must be opening up to someone right now. Let's barge in haphazardly.”

(...)

“Okay Stan, this might be difficult. But if you ever feel distressed, let me know and we can try grounding techniques okay?’

“You got it, F.”

“Now close your eyes, think back to when you and Rick parted ways.”

(...)

“Sanchez?! How does Stan know-.”

“You know this hilarious crossover character? I already know the answer, but for no particular reason I need you to tell me out loud how you know him.”

“His wife Diane was part one of my PhD programs. She was always so bright and pleasant, but her husband was a nightmare when she brought him around. He was always saying that school wasn’t for smart people, and rubbed his inventions and intelligence in our face.”

“And how is she these days?”

“She passed away from a garage fire a few years ago, her and her little girl. I almost sent him a condolences, but he was such an unpleasant asshole I could not make myself do so.”

“Come on Stan- think about it! You, me, Bird Person, Squanchy-  sci-fi adventures, drugs, bitches. Whattaya say? Let’s ditch this dimension, there isn’t anything for us here anymore.”

“Dimension-?”

“Shh, Fordsy, just let it play out.”

“I… I can’t Rick.”

“Why not?”

“There’s… something here.”

“Did you remember something?”

“I don’t remember who, but I think I’m looking for someone.”

“Stanny-Boy, we’ve been through this before. No one knows you, everywhere we’ve been, ‘cept for the fake names. You should just cut your losses.”

“Wherever we go, we go together.”

“What was that-?”

“Just the distorted voice of his subconscious. It’s probably not important.”

“I’m sorry. But there’s a piece of me missing, and I think it’s still here in this dimension somewhere.”

“You know your credits don’t have monetary value here.”

“I know.”

“And I can’t leave you a space cruiser. You’ll have to walk or steal a car.”

“Either is fine. I’ve done it before.”

“Stan… Are you sure?”

“Here. Take all my credits, you’ll get more out of it than me.”

“You want your dusters back?”

“Trade me.”

“Wait, you don’t want your transdimensional watch anymore?”

“If the pigs catch me, I don’t need them asking too many questions.”

“You know that doesn’t just give you dimensional coordinates and time zones, right? There’s a pulse wave in it that can shatter force fields.”

“Pft, what are the chances I’d ever need that?”

“Ooof, he really fumbled the bag there.”

“My muse, please.”

*Rick takes the watch and gives Stan a pair of brass knuckles*

“Thanks Rick… Hey, it was nice while it lasted.”

“Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“I hope you find that bastard, Prime. Give him the hell he deserves.”

“...Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ll miss you too, pal.”

(...)

“Alright, how are you feeling Stan?”

“So far so good.”

“Okay, now let’s go further back. You said your first clear memory is when you met him, let’s go back to that.”

“I was in the back of his shi- iiitty car, I felt like I’d just smoked an entire carton of cigarettes, but in a bad way..”

(...)

“It just- stopped?”

“He’s remembering something else. Just look for another door.”

“Here we go.”

“Wha- where…?”

“Oh hey you’re awake.”

“-’re, you?”

“You’re one tough son of a bitch, y’know? Most of the people I tase end up dead, but you just passed out.”

“You… tased me? Are you a cop?”

“Hell no. I tased you because you attacked me in the woods. Damn near ripped my head off.”

“The woods..?”

“You were wandering around in a catatonic state, can’t tell you how long.”

“A what state?”

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

“It’s…? I... Malone. Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“Stan keep your eyes closed. I want you to try to remember what happened before this.”

“Alright…”

“What’s something you can remember? Something you saw, felt, heard?”

“My chest felt really tight…”

(...)

“What is this?”

“Ahh. A pit memory. This is something his brain wants to forget, but can’t permanently delete.”

“So it is a repressed memory?”

“Yes. He’s trying to think about it… but unconsciously, he really doesn’t want to.”

“What happens if we jump in?”

“Sixer, where's your sense of adventure? If it gets too dangerous I’ll just pull us out.”

“Do you swear?”

“Just gimme the word.”

“Which word?”

“Let’s go with ‘defenestrate’ this time.”

‘W̷̷H̷̷Y̷ ̷I̷̷S̷̷N̷'̷T̷ ̷I̷̷T̷ ̷W̷̷O̷̷R̷̷K̷̷I̷̷N̷̷G̷?! ̷W̷̷H̷̷Y̷-?’

S̷̷C̷̷R̷̷E̷̷E̷̷C̷̷H̷

‘̷C̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷-’  

‘̷t̷̷r̷̷a̷̷p̷̷p̷̷e̷̷d̷’  

‘̷c̷̷a̷̷n̷’̷t̷ ̷b̷̷r̷̷e̷̷a̷̷t̷̷h̷̷e̷-’

*brief flash of a pile of burnt paper ash in Stan’s hands, which are shaking*

“We can’t stay here Fordsy, he’s closing up again.”

“Just one more second-!”

“Might as well, it’s [--- ---- ------ - ---].”

“[--- ---] going to die here. Stan[--- -------- -----], if you don’t [---- - ---- ---- --] in the next minute you will die.”

“That voice-?”

“We’re leaving now, Sixer! DEFENESTRATE!”

SNAP

(...)

“Stan? Stan calm down-! It’s okay! Remember where you are.”

“C-Can’t breathe-”

“Yes you can, just breathe with me. In- out. In- out. Just like that. There we go.”

“I’m sorry Fiddleford, I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t. ”

To be continued…

[mysumeow]

ᯓ★ KINKTOBER DAY 5: SCENT KINK

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Afab body, mentioned to wear a skirt. Public sex (no one gets caught though wink wink), fingering, cunnilingus, scent kink.

ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: You agreed to meet with Ace at the library to work on a project. However, who shows up is not him, but Leona...

ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: I know october is over but this was supposed to be posted like two weeks ago ;7; I had a lot going on the past week but i finally got some time to share this filth >:DDDDDDDD

🎃 . . . KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | TWST MASTERLIST

You groggily open your eyes, the bright lights glaring at your pupils as you woke up. The annoying burn became a secondary thought—memories from what led you to be in the college’s library this late.

“And people complain about me napping anywhere.”

At the sound of Leona’s unexpected voice, your drowsiness left your body.

“Leona?” you jolted. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking you that. This is not a place to nap. And this late? Even less.”

You were about to retort back with a snarky comment of your own, but the memories of why you were here in the first place stopped you.

"Ace, that jerk, did he stand me up?” you fished your cellphone out of your pocket. Ace could be a jerk sometimes, but would he dare to abandon you when you were supposed to work on the upcoming project? 

You sighed, relieved when you found his messages, explaining that he wouldn’t make it to the library this time because Riddle assigned him some tasks in their dorm.

The day had been arduous, and the moment you sat on this couch, in the silent place that is a library, you couldn’t help but nod off...

Leona sat next to you on the couch and leaned closer to peek at your messages. In the middle of you typing your response back to Ace, Leona couldn’t help but notice the obvious scent of that other guy on you.

“You hang out around that herbivore too much. His pesky scent is all over you.” The lionkin complained.

“Well, he’s a friend. Of course I’ll hang out with him.”

Without exchanging any other words, Leona snatched your cellphone away from your hand and placed it on the table.

“Hey—What’s the big deal?”

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him, until your chests pressed together. The abrupt movement made your knees bump into each other; however, the second his mouth made contact with your neck, you couldn’t bother paying it mind anymore. His fangs grazed on your skin, teasing about a possible mark he could leave there with ease. The way he inhaled your neck made goosebumps rise. It both tickled you and made arousal pool between your legs.

He even tugged at your shirt to reveal more skin for him to lave with his tongue. In the back of your mind, you knew this wasn’t the place to do this, and yet, the thrill of the situation wouldn’t allow you to care about it enough.

Leona slid a hand under your skirt; his fingers sought the growing wetness concealed by your underwear without hesitation.

“I was about to tell you to move this to my room, but it looks like the place isn’t an issue…” he kissed the tip of your ear after he whispered, meanwhile two fingers eased inside. Leona groaned at your warmth and tightness, fingering at a languid rythm.

The heel of his hand rubbed against your clit while he thrust his fingers. The pleasure was overriding your thoughts, and you lost yourself in it.

Leona chuckled when he noticed you were relaxing into his touch, your position becoming slack.

You discerned him pulling away, his mouth opened to welcome his drenched fingers into his mouth. A look of pure carnal desire glazed his eyes as he lapped his fingers, swallowing the remnants of your pleasure. His attention shifted back to the source of said arousal under your skirt and crouched in front of your parted legs.

“Wait,” you panicked a little.

“Relax, no one’s around. No one comes here a Friday after classes.”

“What if someone comes?”

“I’ll be able to pick up footsteps before they even put a foot inside. Trust me, I’ll notice someone’s around before you do.” His lion ears flicked while he said that, a hand on your thigh as he waited for your response.

You gazed at Leona, his piercing green eyes giving away his eagerness despite his laidback demeanor. Well, beastkin had way better hearing than humans. And, as he said, no one wanted to spend their free time in the college’s library at this hour on a Friday.

At last, you opened your legs again for him. You were sitting at the furthest point away from the entrance. You would have plenty of time to fix your clothes before someone saw you.

Leona had similar thoughts, preferring to push your underwear to the side instead of pulling them off.

Before he feasted upon your dripping pussy, he grabbed you by the hips to pull you closer, positioning them in an angle that would make things easier. With this new position, he spread you open and slid his tongue against your needy clit. A gasp escaped you from the sensation; you reminded yourself to cover your mouth for extra precaution. The more his hot mouth sucked your clit, the closer to your orgasm you were.

The scent of you was driving him crazy. He could smell your slick dripping the moment he kissed and bit your neck. It wasn’t enough to erase Ace’s scent from you, but it was a start.

He would have you in his room soon enough, and he would make sure to get rid of it.

The more of your fluids coated his fingers, the more he was pleased. His mouth occupied with your nub, and his fingers worked your cunt with purpose. He didn’t even care about the fact that you were tugging at his hair, your hands dangerously close to his ears. Whatever, if you tugged on those too, he would make you pay back for it…

Leona hummed pleased once he felt you become undone under his touches, your walls clenching around his fingers. How antsy he was about feeling that around his cock—

“Careful there. Don’t forget whose hair you’re tugging here,” he pulled away to speak; his fingers didn’t abandon your tightness, however.

“Ah! I’m sorry.”

Once you tidied your appearance to the best of your ability and Leona led you to his room, you wondered why you bothered to tug your shirt into your skirt in the first place…

After that night, you noticed beastfolk would glance at you with a certain... knowing look you quite didn’t like. You didn’t like it because you didn’t know what the reason was. Even Jack would seem flustered whenever his eyes landed on you, quick to excuse himself. 

[ash-and-starlight]

That was when he saw the crate under the seneschal’s bed. He eased it out.  Inside were lengths of red silk embroidered with gold thread. Then he moved the bundle aside, and a shiver shot cold down his spine. There, amid the cloth, lay the mask of the Blue Spirit.

Chapter Three of The Mercy of Magpies out now!

written by @ranilla-bean and betaed by @faux-fires

Chapter post || Cover || Map and Characters || Ch2 art

[a-sketchy]

potatoes of indeterminate size

[moodlemcdoodle]

After a year of doing art in secret (and forgetting to post anything… I’m sorry I will have my backlog queued up soon!) I have finally accumulated enough power… to revive my ancient human superhero Sonic AU and make it actually good! Here’s a bunch of my sketches, mainly of Sonic and Tails but also of a bit of lore… More to come later!

[adrift-in-thyme]

Hi everyone! Quick heads up!

Just wanted to let you all know that one of my New Year’s resolutions for 2024 is to better both my mental and physical health. I haven’t been myself since the pandemic and everything that happened during it. I need to find that person again. And I’m not doing it by spending too much time on here (because I am. I’ve caught my time on here only increasing as the months went by and I’m consistently using it as an escape from things and emotions that bother me. It’s reached unhealthy levels.)

SO from January 1st until Lent ends at the end of March, I’ll be completely off of Tumblr. Feel free to tag me, send messages and asks, whatever. I’ll just answer them when I get back.

Y’all are awesome and I’ll miss you. But it’s not for too long and I know this is something I need. Thank you for understanding!! <33

[3amsnek]

new icon time bc the moment we hit double digits on the halloween countdown my brain genuinely straight up forgot it was still summer

[blueforester]

USPS I love you and I know you are so so so busy right now but if you don’t bring me my new glasses today before you pause deliveries over the holiday I’m esploding the whole world

[euphor1a]

Hello, my belovedest petals 🌸

It’s been,,, 365 days since I started posting on here 🎀 (the first post made on this blog, for reference!), and I just wanted to thank all of you for being here, from the bottom of my heart ♡

To celebrate, I’ve changed my blog theme entirely (both on mobile n desktop) >.<! I wanted to do something ~unusual~ that is not out of my reach and capabilities, so I thought maybe this would be a good idea... I mean, everyone likes to look at pretty things, right? So I hope you guys can look at all the pretty gfx I made and feel happy in some way 🦋✨🌆! It took me whole 4 days and probably 40+ hours of brainstorming and working on everything, so I really hope my hardwork paid off! 💖💜

Tumblr has never been an easy place for me to be on as I struggle with interactions, building connections, and as a result get lonely very easily. More than often, I’ve felt like an outsider on my own blog, because of how unwelcomed I had felt in a space that is created by me. But, I’m trying to work on those things slowly, especially on how to be rational with my own feelings, and not listening to my brain whenever it’s being unnecessarily mean. About interactions though, it’ll probably take me a long time to actually show improvements, but I promise I’m trying my best always ^^! I appreciate everyone who has ever made an effort to interact with me, I see you and I appreciate you lots, even if it doesn’t feel that way 🫂

That got a bit heavy, no? Don’t mind it, please :( those who have seen me for long enough probably know that I’m kind of like this, but still ╥ ╥

Lastly, I wanted to say thank you so much, once again! I hope my presence here can be a positive one for me and you all as long as I’m here; let’s be happy in this silly little corner of the internet ♡

much love,

aleyna 💌

[fungus-gnats]

hi guys look ! i am helpful sometimes and not just a common household pest :p

[inga-don-studio]

I’m officially back from my short social media break! Even if I wasn’t as strict about logging off as I probably should have been, five stars do recommend 10/10. I’m for sure doing this more frequently.

I am planning on turning this blog back into a more even mix of personal posts & reblogs, too. The personal post quota will of course be subject to mental health & whether I even have anything interesting to share (both of which have been in gravely short supply for a while), but I want to at least try to put myself out there more. We’ll just have to see how that goes.

Missed all y’all & wish you a good day/night!