#cleared out
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boyczar · 1 year ago
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i think it’s funny that anyone would get the idea that i am trying to harm them or wish ill will upon them in any way. like… that is in your mind sadly. i am aware of the spiritual laws, the rule of 3, the law of divine oneness.. if i were to wish upon you any harm it would literally come back to me. if i do not forgive you it is me not forgiving myself. if i am mean-spirited to you, i am mean-spirited toward myself. i love others as i love myself. i know how the world works (in this regard.) there is really no divide spiritually. i am you as you are me. we are simply different expressions of Source consciousness. we are mirrors. in reality, i have actually done nothing but manifest great things for myself (and You!) i have wished for you nothing but incredible hair days. for your days to be peaceful and productive. for your dreams to be pleasant. for you to have clarity. for you to be in alignment. for you to love yourself. for you to have people around you that actually Love you. for you to enjoy wonderful food. for you to continually grow. for you to turn your pain into growth. for you to feel the sun on your skin every day. for you to be financially free. for you to be free from addictions. for you to live in the present moment. for you to be completely at peace with yourself. for you to live your sincere and best life. for you to be completely authentic. thank you. i love you.
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artbyblastweave · 4 months ago
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I remember meeting a guy at a bar a year or so ago who told me he worked at the international consortium that does the porn parodies of all the top-grossing film releases. He said that the whole Barbenheimer situation presented his combine with some spectacular highs and lows. Because he said that with Barbie, right, the thing about Barbie is that there's already kind of a three-way ideatic, structural parallel between the curated artificiality of Barbie as a children's toy, the curated artificiality of Barbie as a mass market film, and the curated artificiality of pornography as a genre. Add on top of that that Barbie as a film is already feeling this tension, right where it's trying to be about a character graduating from the platonic sexlessness of a children's franchise to the functional-and-frank sexuality of being a living human woman, but it's also being bogged down in the "Everyone-is-beautiful-no-one-is-horny" aesthetic restrictions of any contemporary big-budget mass-market film so the two states end up looking pretty similar, he said. I mean the film itself is very aware of that tension, right, with that joke about how "casting Margot Robbie is the wrong move if you want to make that point," all that jazz. So, all that in mind, Barbie-themed pornography, he said, is in a weird way actually kind of complementary to the extant project, gesturing at unaddressed tensions and ideas, a dark mirror, the shadow self it wants to deny but can't, there's a lot of room to play in the space. He used the adjective "Lynchian" a couple of times, he seemed super stoked, he was talking with his hands. Oppenheimer, on the other hand. Oppenheimer he said presented a problem. Because obviously you can eroticize the detonation of an atomic bomb, we're all probably three mutuals removed from someone on this site who does exactly that, but obviously that's a niche market, and moreover it's a market that has a ton of overlap with high-minded thinkers who treat the historical use of atomic weapons against Japan with the level of gravity that atrocity demands. So they were stuck. They were really stuck. He told me that they'd been pulling their hair out for months trying to square the circle and all they had to show for it was a big whiteboard with the phrase "Grope-nheimer" written on it
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daftpatience · 2 months ago
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trying again to recount this one dream i had that stuck with me awhile ago
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clowniconography · 3 months ago
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drawing of a nightmare situation i may or may not currently be in
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frownyalfred · 6 months ago
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reactions to Batman coming up to the Watchtower for a JL meeting without his cowl just wearing a domino mask, in order of hilarity:
oh no he’s hot (Clark)
he’s older than I thought he was (Diana)
he’s younger than I thought he was (Hal)
he has hair??? (Barry)
why do I recognize that scar above his left eyebrow? (both Dinah and Ollie, simultaneously)
good lord how is he so hot (still Clark)
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theoptia · 5 months ago
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Simone de Beauvoir, from Diary of a Philosophy Student: Volume 1, 1926-27
Text ID: I observe how much I have matured since last year despite my belief that I was losing myself, how something strong was born from the painful experiences survived and from the numerous minutes that I believed were wasted.
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valtsv · 7 months ago
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12th century architect: this cathedral is looking so good. it could still use a little something, though. maybe a scary creature or two?
the grotesque gargoyle:
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violent138 · 9 months ago
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There comes a time when the criminals prefer being taken in by Batman, because his kids go a little overboard:
Goon: "You won't kill me."
Cass: "You ready to bet your life on that?"
Duke: *tosses her the gun they took off the guy* "I would do what she says."
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Random thug: "Hey Batman doesn't kill--"
Damian: "Not like he's here. You're certainly not going to be able to tell him."
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Tim: "Well, accidents do happen. Shame." *starts to let go of the rope*
Guy dangling off the building: "No, no okay, okay, I'll tell you!"
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Steph: *clears throat*
Gang members: "We surrender!" *multiple guns fall to the ground*
Steph: "I see my reputation precedes me, wise choice."
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*Bruce gets chewed out by Gordon by the Batsignal because the rumours have spread so much, it kind of sounds like Batman's kids have been going around murdering people*
Bruce: "In my defense, it's only one of them."
Gordon: "What."
Bruce: *realizes he never filled Gordon in on Red Hood*
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krowscrawl · 2 months ago
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your presence haunts
black void version
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crabussy · 1 year ago
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IM GOING TO PUNCH A HOLE IN SOMEONES CAR
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toad-in-a-trenchcoat · 2 months ago
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The Virgin Mary lookin’ a bit different-
prev
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chloesimaginationthings · 4 months ago
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Sometimes I think about the FNAF 3 ending,,
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catskullery · 1 year ago
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shoukohime · 2 years ago
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babygirl the way you forsake your happiness on your relentless quest to vengeance, your complicated relationship with gender and the way you're covered in blood have bewitched me body and soul
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frownyalfred · 1 month ago
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Bruce, to Stephanie during training: you can't wear your hair down during a fight, it's going to be used against you. it's unsafe.
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Stephanie, to Tim 20 min later in the Sally's Beauty Supply: so I want the longest blond extensions they have, and I want you to braid them into my hair as this kind of handhold thingie? and then you can grab it and launch me across the room during a fight so I have extra momentum, and --
Tim: this sounds perfectly reasonable and like it’ll piss off Bruce so I’m in
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luvcaleb · 9 days ago
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EYES ON ME.
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nsfw (18+). i really did not mean for this to be a whole fic but i just kept typing. and typing. and typing... anyway, here are the usual cws: blowjob, cunnilingulus, corruption kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, marathon sex (sylus is starved), more yearning than you'd expect from a sugar daddy fic, and side note that sylus is older than you here (you decide how much lol). likes and reblogs will be very appreciated!
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pov: you're a barista at the cafe sylus usually orders at and he overhears you saying you want to try being a sugar baby to make more money.
sylus generally avoids interacting with ordinary citizens. for one, they live in a separate world from him, and two, he'd rather not drag other people into unnecessary trouble.
you are no exception to this rule he placed upon himself. or at least, you should be.
but he can't help being drawn to your sunny smile, undeterred despite his intimidating appearance. he can't help but relax his shoulders when you greet him “welcome!” in a warm, gentle voice. he can't help but ask you how your day went, listen to your complaints, and chuckle fondly when you say something particularly funny.
and he can't help but notice how your sunny smile has diminished the past few weeks, weighed down by late nights and endless work juggling several part-time jobs to get by and pay the debt your father left behind.
so when he overhears you saying you want to try having a sugar daddy, he moves against his better judgment.
it's not hard to track you down in a shady site. even easier to lure you with an enticing price, better than any old, rich fool can offer.
and really, sylus doesn't plan on doing anything to you. this is somewhat like a donation, he convinces himself. that's all there is to it. he's not being possessive.
he pays you for your time. feels amused seeing you sit beside him with an almost visible question mark on your face, not knowing what to do. sure, you have a general idea what sugar babies do, but it was probably not simply watching an old romance movie while snacking on finger foods.
you think it must be some sort of foreplay, but he drives you home. the next time he calls you over, you eat together in a who-knows-how-many-stars restaurant in a tall skyscraper overlooking the city, which ends in a similar fashion. in the next, he takes you shopping and fills your closet with luxury brands, yet again ending the day with a drive to your shabby apartment.
and it's nice. it's really nice. to the point it's too good to be true. from the very beginning when you learned your client wasn't going to be an old geezer, you already thought you lucked out. but with sylus practically treating you as his girlfriend, leaving nothing to be desired, things couldn't be better. you can't even consider the possibility of being sylus's side chick that he's cheating with because there's nothing for him to gain from this arrangement. if you really think about it, sylus is basically throwing you all his money.
you think you can leave things like this. after all, you have nothing to complain about.
but on one of your gigs taking up a friend's waitress shift at a fancy restaurant, you see sylus with a woman.
they're both well-dressed. sylus always is, but now even more so with his styled hair and clean, crisp suit. the woman looks gorgeous in her champagne dress, all smooth silk and beautiful curves. the men around her can't help but stare.
he leads her to a table. pulls out her chair for her. smirks at her as they exchange friendly banter, looking like the picture-perfect couple.
a cold settles deep in your chest, even if you have no right to feel bad. you don't have the right to feel upset because it isn't like you're bound by any serious relationship.
but for the rest of the night, you try to avoid their table. you hope he hasn't taken notice of you, but that's probably wishful thinking considering you've felt an intense gaze on your back all this while.
eventually, they leave, and so do you. as you walk home, you try to dissect why you felt so awful. is it because he might cut you off now that he's interested in another woman? it must be. once he breaks off whatever you have, you're going to have a hard time finding someone else to mooch off of. you'll be back to the same old dreary lifestyle; the magic has worn off, and cinderella has to be miserable again.
but it isn't just that, even if it should be. you shouldn't feel so shitty seeing him with another girl if you only saw him as a client. somewhere along the line, you've started appreciating his quiet smiles, his teasing smirk, his kind gaze. there's something soft about his innocent touches, tucking your hair behind your ear or his thumb wiping away cake frosting on your cheek.
and you hate the idea of him doing all of that to that woman he was with.
“you should pay more attention to your surroundings, sweetheart.”
sylus interrupts your thoughts. you turn to look at the street beside you where you find sylus leaning against his car. waiting.
you hesitate only for a moment. you get in, and he drives you home. the silence is unsettlingly tense, so different from the comfortable quiet you've grown used to in your past drives.
eventually, you bring yourself to speak. “let's go to your house.”
sylus says, “i haven't asked for your services tonight.” it's soft, teasing, and most importantly, it's not a no.
the familiar manor comes into view, grand and imposing as always. he opens the car door for you. asks to carry your bag. unlocks the front door.
he drops it when you push him down the plush sofa, catching him by surprise. you've never quite seen him as stunned as he is now, stock still as you press your mouth against his. clumsy. unsure. yet eager. his fingers tangle in your hair, unmoving for just a moment, but soon he manages to tear himself away.
“i didn't ask for you to do this.”
he hasn't. he probably never intended to do this sort of thing in the first place.
but it isn't like he doesn't want to. his voice is strained. he's still holding you, as if afraid you'll pull away once you realize this is a bad idea. he's staring at you like you're the only thing that matters.
and you realize that you enjoy this attention. you like having his hands around you. you like him doting on you. you like him looking at you.
you don't want him to look at anyone else.
and, you come to realize, you want this just as much as he does.
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there's a sense of clumsiness when you wrap your hands around his cock, hesitant and unpracticed. you seem as if you've never done this before. sylus should not be as thrilled as he feels at this discovery.
perhaps he should be a little turned off. but his dick feels the hardest it's ever been when you start giving kitten licks to his tip, innocently looking up at him through your lashes like you're asking for praise.
he murmurs filth under his breath when your lips close around his head, sucking at a spot that makes him shudder. he forces his hips to stay absolutely still even if he wants to destroy your throat. he can't afford to scare you away now. not when you're finally within his reach.
yet sylus can't help but run his hand through your hair, pulling you closer. making you take him in deeper. guiding your head as you bob up and down. you're gurgling around his cock, spit dripping from your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes. so obviously struggling but still sucking more of him in, eager to please. you choke when his cock hits the back of your throat, and still, you hollow your cheeks, licking everywhere you could.
and that does it for him, making him finish much, much quicker than he means to. his cum fills your mouth, warm thick streams that overflow from your lips. he doesn't expect you to swallow, ready to catch with his palm, but you gulp it all down like a good girl.
sylus's chest fills with deep satisfaction. he tells you well-deserved praise as he showers your face with pecks, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes bitter but oh so nauseatingly sweet.
he wants to reward you for being a good girl, you he pulls you to the edge of the mattress, pressing down on your thighs as he digs in. the first lick on your pretty pussy makes you yelp, legs kicking out in surprise. he gives your thighs a warning squeeze, and by the second, you're obediently staying as still as you can, whimpering to your palm.
you taste as sweet as you look, and sylus hums contently as he licks up all your slick and it never runs out. you moan so nicely for him when he laps at your clit, continuously flicking his tongue at the small bud, and you all but scream when he sucks it hard, tangling your fingers in his hair and jerking up your hips.
he doesn't complain when you ride his face, staring intently at your expression twisted in pleasure. your mouth is shaped around an ‘o’, eyes rolling back as he dares to slip his tongue inside your hole. he rubs your engorged clit with a rough thumb, fucking in and out your pussy with his tongue, groaning amidst the lewd symphony of squelches.
he hasn't planned on touching you, no. but he's thought of it countless times on nights he felt especially lonely after you left. imagined you on his lap, fondling your soft chest, playing with your cute pussy. he wondered what spots made you feel good, where you'd be sensitive. what faces you'd make when he touched them.
sylus doesn't have to wonder anymore, committing the sinful sight to memory. you've always been cute, but he thinks you're even more adorable now, squirming as he gently eases a finger inside you. you're wet enough to fit two, but it's still quite tight; it might take a while before you can take him in. he presses a reassuring kiss on your inner thigh when he finds your g-spot, telling you to stay still and be good.
so sylus spends a bit of time between your legs, adding more fingers as he laps away at your clit. at your first orgasm, he fucks you through it, not stopping his hand until the spray of cum has ceased. by the second, you've drenched his sheets and his arm, but by the way you're moaning his name almost incoherently, you don't want him to stop.
on the verge of a third, a fourth finger teasing at your entrance, you're begging him to fuck you. sylus has felt close to bursting for a while, so he doesn't complain. he rubs his cock between your wet folds, tapping at your clit with the head. slicking his cock with your juices as he marvels at how tiny you seem under him, the length of him intimidatingly massive laying on your stomach.
when he pops the tip of his cock inside, you clench around him immediately, warm and so goddamn tight. he can't slide it in one, smooth thrust; he fucks it inside bit by bit, observing your face for any signs of pain, but all he sees is a dazed, drooling slut, crying out his name and for him to put it all inside her. he shushes you, reasoning he has to be slow, but he's very well on the edge of his patience.
when his cock is halfway in, you turn into a shuddering, sobbing mess. his tip has poked somewhere sensitive, and when he grinds against it, you squirt hard, spraying cum on his abs. he laughs in disbelief, meanly rubbing tight circles on your clit to make your orgasm last longer.
once sylus has finally bottomed out, he whispers endless compliments to your ear, hands roaming around your skin. he can't stop his hips from thrusting, tirelessly fucking in and out of your soaked cunt with vigor he hasn't had in years. sylus doesn't consider himself the vocal type, but now he can't shut up about how pretty you are, how good and sweet you are for him. how nice and tight your cute pussy feels, how you're made to take in his huge cock.
he uses you the way he imagines in his dirty fantasies, like a whore he pays to bed. yet at the same time, you're his precious little princess, the one person he shouldn't hurt. the one person he should treat with utmost care. the one person that should stay untainted by the filthy world.
but you're moaning so loud, enjoying being his little slut. you want to be fucked hard and fast, fingerprints on your hips and waist. you want to be bred full of his cum and do it all over again. you want to be his.
so sylus takes you in all the ways he knows how. on your back. on your knees. on his lap. he lets you ride him, fucking up into your cunt when you get tired. he takes you against the wide, clear window panes, uncaring if someone might have seen. he fucks you while standing, holding up all of your weight, making you watch yourself on the mirror as he thrusts inside. he never once pulls out when he cums, your pussy crammed with his hot, milky loads.
you make a mess everywhere, but you don't have time to worry about it. you don't even worry about the chances of getting pregnant, being pumped full of sylus's cum. even if you did end up pregnant, sylus keeps going on and on about wanting you to be his pretty wife, that he won't let you want for nothing, that he'll provide for your every need if you'll just stay with him.
and in the face of his love, bordering on desperate obsession, you don't even know why you were ever worried about him falling for anyone else.
from the moment he laid eyes on you, he couldn't look away.
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