#may delete later idk for reasons

[lannisterdaddyissues]

god why am i so fucking stupid. having adhd is truly a curse and i hate bearing it

[solarpunkani]

Dear people who do solarpunk art

How

How do you decide what you wanna draw

[theclosetedskeleton]

UGRHJQHJI stress and this feeling of guilt and sorrow is eating me alive tonight i am NOT in a good mood right now omw to start EATING GRASS

[blu-wingz]

I wanna make something like good omens so fucking bad....angel and demon become friends to lovers slow burn 6000 years...fuck

[surreal-duck]

messing around a bit

[pepprs]

my mom isn’t letting my dad go back to his office bc him being out of the house stresses her out and makes her have a flare up and it’s like kind of insane. like i understand why the idea of him doing that would make her panicky and angry as someone who also struggles w separation anxiety and abandonment shit / has physical symptoms from that kind of stress (though not to the same degree ofc) but also he is a grown man. he should be allowed to go to his office and not have to shape his entire life around her needs. and she keeps guilt tripping him out of it and it’s impacting his quality of life a lot and the whole thing is kind of… hm

[elegyofthemoon]

today on "clover continues to mourn sqenix"

[celepeace]

Last call for homebrewing your 3DS!! I used this guide, which adapts to what your current software version is + your region (the method differs based on these things). It's very easy, all you need is 30 minutes to an hour of free time, a basic understanding of how file explorers work, an internet connection, and an SD card reader if your computer doesn't have an SD slot.

After today, it may become harder to homebrew your 3DS. It will probably not be impossible to do so after the eshop closes, but methods will likely change and there is no guarantee there will be another way available anytime soon.

[theghostofashton]

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[wannaremember]

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[livinwa]

I have recently learned that I don't have an original experience, under the guise that each day I prove to be more and more nerodivergent as time passes by and the question of "am i really? Maybe I'm just attention seeking" just sort if becomes a denial rather than a question.

Here's a bunch of things I think are signs and or could be debunked but I need opinions ti be able to figure myself out and stuff, so maybe enjoy the drama and stuff???

1. I thought I was able to look people in the eyes, no I'm not, not unless I'm comfortable with that person and/or the situation is like really awkward then I actually physically can't look at them in the FACE.

2. My jacket. The thing my avatar has, its my comfort item. One night I couldn't stop crying and had the thought "put the jacket on" and I did and I ended up being able to finally calm down and breath despite the tears not stopping. I felt safe.

3. Headphones. Once more another comfort item. I dont like leaving anywhere without them. Their as much as a trademark as my jacket and blue jeans.

4. Speaking of blue jeans (this could also be a self esteem thing I dont have a high ar on that) I don't like wearing certain clothes outside nor do I like wearing certain clothes to sleep or in my bed. My preferred fashion senses have always pertained to what I loved to wear and feel on my skin (let it be known I had a navy blue jacket at all times like this one sort of that I outgrew in middle school and a different jacket that held my special interest on it)

5. Speaking of special interests, TRANSFORMERS. that shit took over my life so fast you'd think that I was driving a nasa car with the way I dove headfirst into making that bitch an extraterrestrial. And while of course I grew out of things transformers is ALWAYS THERE and NEVER GOING AWAY no matter how much I dont talk about it with other people (that's what this blog is for)

6. Sensory shit. I dont care what something smells like I am going to get a whiff. Smells bad? Okay let me make sure. Smells good? I'm following it like a cartoon character ti a white steam trail. The only time I dont like a smell is when its so strong it literally makes me gag. I like smells but don't mix and match and crank it to eleven (also sugar cookies and cigarettes dont mix at all) this also goes for biting. I bite. So much.

7. Sensory OVERLOADS. I HAVE HAD TBOSE BEFORE APPARENTLY. Though absolutely they are rare. Is there a spectrum to how people deal with sensory overloads? I don't know and thats why I'm asking questions. I would be doing the dishes and the waters running the forks are clanging and the kids are screaming and the one little guy that I hate (sibling) is repeating the same phrase over and over in the most annoying way possible and I just can't take it anymore so I shut myself down to forcefully finish this task because I know what's going to happen if I don't and eventually in a groggy something something morning voice I tell him to shut the fuck up and it helps. If he listens.

8. For as long as I've known, I love food. And I have recently known, food equals a pattern in household. Not only food but the day has a type of pattern as well, and it directly connects to the type of food too. In simple terms so I don't spill guts along with blood, to little, irritable, find other ways to find needed things, a lot, the days okay and conversations light.

9. I have come to the epiphany that eggs are my comfort food. It doesn't matter how their made most of the time I will eat eggs in nearly any form I have LITERALLY had a daily/weekly limit to how many eggs i make a day forced onto me because eggs are too expensive.

10. I cant remember shit but most importantly I cant remember where I put items sometimes almost immedietly after I either set it down or look at something that has relative importance. I have forgotten I put my pencil in my backpack literal seconds after I put it in there, and mutual can attest to my lack of remembering exactly what I said unless it had great importance or funny capacity.

11. I have been stimming for as long as I have known and before I knew what stimming even was. Flappy hands and unusual sounds. I liked the sound of a whistle so much I ended up creating my own verbal stim that I used to this day. (Learned how to whistle a year later)

12. Masking. From what I was exposed to and understand its basically the ability to put on a mask and different facade for the general public compared to what was within, until 6th grade I actually barely had freinds (was really nice, had no/2 enemies in my life(very weird one was a literal frenemy)) and often was just walking around until I played games with others because those had rules and didn't involve too much small talk and I was happy to play in those games. But that was it. Then in 6th grade I gained the facade of happy and chill guy that never really got sad, the works.

This is not all but enjoy the blood sweat and tears of this... whole thing. I'm confused im tired and I'm simply trying to figure things out.

[whimsyprinx]

sometimes you reblog a post that’s like “say something nice about the person you reblogged it from” and only one person reblogs it and that’s after you mentioned it and then you feel pathetic because of it 🎻

[ladycaramelswirl]

A Dream Like You

Female reader x Aaron Hotchner

A/N: I did something… hormonal 💀 may delete later

summary: you and Aaron share a bed on a case. oh, also you’re both in love with each other and totally oblivious. And sexually frustrated 🫠

cw: Idk how ratings work but I’m pretty sure this is explicit. (sm*t?) No mention of Y/N! Also quite a bit of swearing, which is unusual for me.

A/N (main): this is my first time writing anything remotely sexual. It’s short! I was writing something completely different but it ended up as… idk what this is. Also I’m sorry for any typos. Enjoy 💀

————————————

You wake up to the most perfect warmth enveloping you. And the delightful smell of soap and a citrus scented laundry detergent. You sleepily bury your nose into the smell. Except the source of the smell is Aaron, who immediately startles awake at your movement, only to go completely still when he realises you’re the reason for the wonderful warmth pressed against him. He tries to move away but you pull him closer, pushing your breasts against his chest and your leg between his thighs, dangerously close to his now extremely hard cock.

You move against him in your sleep, rocking against his sensitive underside, causing him to moan. This was bad. So bad. He really needed you to wake up. 

“Hey”, he whispers.

“Mmm”, you mumble into your bedmates neck. “It’s so nice here. Don’t want to get up”. 

God you were killing him. He tries to move away, not wanting to disturb your much needed sleep, but you just hold onto him tighter. Were arms supposed to feel this good?

“Please wake up”, he pleads. You needed sleep, but if you kept rubbing against him, he was going come, and then things would be very very uncomfortable. He tries to shake you awake but you rock your hips against him again. 

“Fuck”, he hisses, pleasure rushing through him. Your sleepy mind finds immense satisfaction at his voice and starts moving against him harder. 

“Oh God”, he chokes. 

“You feel so good baby”, you whisper in his ear. You throb with desire. “I need you”, you whine, the friction from your movement sending you into a state of bliss. God you’ve never had a sex dream this good.

Aaron feels his heart race with your movement but it’s your words that cause him to get harder. How was he supposed to forget how you called him baby? He tries to shake you off. 

“You need to wake up. I-“, his words are cut off by an uncontrollable gasp of pleasure that escapes him. 

You feel desperate for the feeling of him inside you. “Fuck me. Please fuck me”, you beg. It takes all of Aaron’s willpower to push you off of him and he jams a pillow between you. He immediately gets on his feet, needing to get away from you. You let out a disappointed whimper and that’s all he can take before he rushes into the bathroom. He turns the water on in the shower before stepping under it, trying to get the cold water to cool him off. But nothing is helping. He wraps his fingers around his hard shaft, slowly moving it up and down. He grits his teeth together, the memory of your words making it almost impossible to not vocalise his pleasure, but you were still asleep and if you woke up, he’d have to explain why he was so flushed. So he tries his best to be quiet. Your voice plays in his head - “you feel so good baby”. He strokes himself faster. “I need you”. His knees buckle in pleasure. “Fuck me. Please”. His mind goes blank as he experiences an euphoric climax and his legs shake as his gratification covers the bathroom tile. Fuck. He’s never got himself off that fast. Shit. He just fucked himself thinking about you. He immediately feels a surge of guilt. He is your boss. He is not supposed to feel this way about you. And you had thought you were sleeping. He has no excuse for his behaviour. He towels himself off and checks his watch for the time. 4am. It’s too early to get up but he cannot get back into bed with you there so he gets dressed. He leaves a note explaining that he’s gone to the precinct to work on the case and that you should join later with everyone else, then quietly slips out of the room.

The sound of the door closing stirs you from your sleep. You reach for your nightstand to check your watch, but find nothing. The panic of being in a strange room makes you sit up and you remember that you’re in a hotel room on a case. You reach to the right for your watch again only to realise you’re not on the side of the bed you slept on. And that you’re alone but you hadn’t been when going to bed. You notice the note on his nightstand. Of course he was already up at 4am. Unless you had kicked him out of bed by rolling onto his side? Oh God, you hope not. And why did you feel so… sensitive? You notice the pillow between your thighs. You recall your dream, and his sounds of pleasure, groaning in frustration and burying your face in the pillow. Only you’re overwhelmed by the smell of Hotch. It’s enough to have you throbbing again. You’d just had a sex dream of your boss. While in bed within him. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else? It was so embarrassing. And completely inappropriate. You had to pull yourself together. But you felt a desperate ache between your thighs. And the smell of him was overwhelmingly good. Before you can really think about what’s happening you bring one hand to your breast, palming yourself through your shirt and slip your other hand into your sleep shorts, rubbing your sensitive nub. Were dreams supposed to be that vivid? The memory of his body against yours has you imagining your fingers are his. You slip one finger inside, then two. His would be so much thicker, so filling. You throb against your digits at the thought. You can almost hear his moans. You fuck yourself harder. God it feels so good. 

“Yes Aaron”, you pant, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that he’s not here. You pinch your nipples as you swipe at your sensitive bundle of nerves and suddenly remember the sound of him whimpering. It’s enough to make you see white. Your orgasm rips through you and you’re soaked in sweat by the time you come down from your high. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating when you’ve ever had an orgasm that good. Never.

You were so fucked.

———

A/N P.S. : I hope you liked it! should I post the writing that inspired this? It’s pretty much the opposite of this - far away from smut land and very much the capital of pining city. It’s much more my usual style. Anyway let me know what you think :)

Masterlist

[dearsnow]

THIS CAN WORK

- as you’re trying to forget about him, the man who broke your heart shows up at your doorstep. or in which jake gets yelled at by the entire hard deck. (jake “hangman” seresin x fem!reader, angst -> fluff, reading part 1 is probably a good idea but idk if it’s 100% necessary)

PART 1

word count: 2,032

a/n - the official part 2 is here!! thank you for all the love part 1 got <3 i’m not personally the biggest jake fan but writing this was honestly so fun. i loved exploring the softer and more insecure parts of his personality, so i may have more planned for him in the future 👀

It’s been two days since Jake cut you out of his life, and to say you’ve been devastated is an understatement. You still have his shirts and his stupid nighttime noise maker, and with them, the lingering feeling of his touch on your skin. You’ve already texted to let him know that you’ll drop off his things later, but he has yet to respond. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the Earth. Good, you think. Let him. But he better at least wipe any memory of himself from your thoughts first.

You’re trying your best to forget, you really are. You took down the pictures of him that hung on your wall, right by your bed, and you’ve shoved the pillow that holds the faint scent of his cologne into the depths of your closet, and the photos of him on your phone are sitting in the recently deleted album. It’s better this way, you tell yourself. You need to get him off your mind as soon as possible and move on to better things, better people. Like a stubborn stain, his presence remains.

But you still want him like you’ve never wanted a single thing before, and it makes you sick.

Jake had never felt worse in his life. As soon as he saw you walking away, he regretted it, but if there’s one thing Jake Seresin hates, it is being wrong. His friends called him every synonym for wrong in the dictionary that night.

“You’re an idiot, Bagman. She was the best thing you had going for you and you just pushed her away like that?” Phoenix scoffed. She had overheard snippets your break-up, and after prompting Penny, she knew the full story within seconds.

“I did what was best for her-“

“No, you did what was best for you.” Penny interjected. “If you can’t make the effort to keep someone so amazing in your life, you’re never going to get anywhere. Relationships require compromise and change on both sides. The whole time you were with her, she was bending over backwards to accommodate you, and you couldn’t even shift to the side a little and give her a pinch of what she needed.”

Jake could feel anger rising in his throat. He knew best, right? No one saw his perspective. No one could feel how unhappy he would’ve made you. He was setting you free. Right? Please, let him be right.

Rooster prodded him in the stomach with his pool stick. Apparently everyone was in on the conversation. “You’ve got that self-pitying look, man. You fucked up. You’ve been fucking up. If you really think you’re not good enough for her, isn’t that a reason to become good enough for her?”

“I just…” For the first time, Jake was at a loss for words. He was coming to recognize that he was wrong. He was so, so wrong, but that felt like a slap in the face. For the first time, Rooster’s words didn’t intend to antagonize him. They were honest, and he hated it.

Bob tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Jake pushed it off. “You should talk to her.” He offered. “Tell her your side, and if she’s open to it, work on yourself so you can be good for her.” His voice was soft and soothing, like he was whispering to a wounded animal. Jake felt himself burning up under the gazes of his friends.

“Yeah,” He swallowed hard, finally coming to terms with the fact that he can make mistakes. “Maybe I will.”

You’re humming to yourself, cleaning your apartment’s modest kitchen. The sun is out, shining golden beams upon the shiny counter you’re wiping down. It smells like the nicely-scented cleaner you just bought. The old one smelled too much like him. But, as you move on, so does life. Thinking about it gives you a headache, so you’ve chosen to do anything but think.

A knock at your door makes you put down your rag. You figure it’s just your landlord, considering that you were meant to pay your rent yesterday. You sigh, readying yourself to tell sweet Mr. Hammond that you’ll pay it ASAP.

Your fingers grip the door handle and pry it open. The thing has always been a little too hard to move; old hinges, you figure. Before you can get the door to open fully, you stop in your tracks. Jake.

He’s holding a bag of your favorite takeout with a sheepish look on his face. You consider slamming the door, but it would probably get stuck if you moved it too fast. “Have you come to collect your things?” You ask softly, looking him up and down. He looks like shit. He has seemingly forgotten how to shave, his stubble turning into the awkward length that you always chided him to take care of, and his deep green eyes are laden with sadness. It almost makes you feel bad for him— until, of course, you remember he broke your heart. Calm down, you think, make this quick and easy. Get him in and out.

“No.” He states simply. “I wanted to apologize.” This is a big thing for him, something so new that it sounds foreign to your ears. Jake apologizing? His shoulders are hunched slightly. You resist the urge to put a loving hand on his chest, as you usually did when he was feeling out of sorts.

“It’s fine.” Your voice is quiet, laced with as much kindness as you can muster. “I put all your stuff in a box, if you wanted to pick it up.” You’re still subtly prompting, trying to get him out again.

He places the takeout in your grasp, his pinky finger brushing lightly against your own. You hate how it still makes you tingle. Your other hand picks at the edges of your soft loungewear. Jake purses his lips slightly as you step backwards, your feet shuffling against the linoleum floor. “Can we talk?”

“I thought we just talked.” You respond curtly. He sighs, eyebrows drawn.

“I mean really talk. Just hear me out this one time, and if you want, you’ll never have to see me again.”

You nod slightly, resigning yourself to the fact that you have to get this over with. At least your apartment is clean and sparkling; in your own way, you’re telling him that you don’t need his permission to live a nice life. You can clean, and you can take care of yourself. The takeout finds its place on your small table. You pull out a stool from the side of your island and sit down as the stool’s legs creak underneath you. Jake sits, too, opposite you. His hands are shaking a little, but you turn your gaze up to his face.

You can hear his breaths deepening as he clasps his hands together. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I appreciate your apology, but that doesn’t really change what happened.” You state. He holds up a finger as if to tell you to wait just a bit. Your eyes pass over his dejected expression, his mouth tilting just the slightest bit downwards.

“I know. I was being stupid, and I see that now. You’re amazing, honey. You’re nice and generous and this genuine kind of comforting that makes me smile. When I’m with you, I feel like I want to be better. And trust me, I do. I want to be so much better for you. When I first met you, I thought that you’d be a fit for Bob or something, that’s how amazing you are. I thought deserved someone like him, someone just as caring, but I fell in love with you instead, and now look where we are.” He chuckles dryly. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I just felt inadequate and stupidly insecure. I know I’m not what a respectable girl like you would want, so I pushed you away and hurt you instead. I didn’t consider your feelings at all that night, and for that, I really am sorry. I don’t know if that explanation changes anything now, but I had to give it a shot; you were never too sweet, I was just too damn bitter.”

His words come out in a ramble. You’ve never seen him so much as stutter, but his confident, calm voice is bordering on anxious. You can’t even believe what you’re hearing.

It takes a lot of guts to say something like that. When you look back on your interactions, on everything he’s ever said or done around you, you finally see it clearly. All he does is build himself up to be this great figure, so much so that people can’t tell that his ego has been sorely bruised. That’s why he shrugs off comfort and security, fucking up every sure thing in his life during the process.

He’s boring a hole into your forehead with how hard he’s staring. His hands are still white-knuckled, holding each other like they’re seeking some sort of solace. The tension in the air is palpable as you take a breath. “Thank you. I… It’s nice to hear you acknowledge that.”

Jake can hear his breathing quicken shakily. That could’ve gone a lot worse. You’re not screaming at him, hitting him, kicking him out, anything that he thinks you should do. You’re just sitting there, nails digging into the flesh on your arm, looking shocked and heartbroken all at once. He takes one deep gulp of air. “You’re welcome. I’ll get out of your hair now.” He stands to leave, but your smaller hand catches his. His palm is damp.

“I’m sorry you ever had to feel that way about yourself.” You say. His small admission of insecurity weighs on you like nothing else. “You’re a good guy, Jake. I hope you’ll take this as an opportunity to work on yourself and find what makes you happy.”

Budding tears prick at his waterline. He hasn’t cried in a long time, but looking at you makes him want to. He wants to slide into your arms and sob, press his face into your neck and tell you over and over that he wants you back. He has to try. He thinks he’ll regret it for his whole life if he doesn’t. “You make me happy,” he hesitates, “and if you’ll have me, I’d like to have you around while I work on myself. I need you. You make me want to be good enough for you.”

You take one step, then another, and he doesn’t protest a single bit as you envelop him in a hug. His muscles relax as he wraps his arms around you, the tension breathing a sigh of relief. “I’d like that.” Your voice is slightly muffled from being pressed into his chest, but he hears you loud and clear. “I missed being with you.”

You missed the way he would cook you breakfast in the mornings with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder and classic rock playing from his phone. He always told you that you’d get the whole experience when you visited him, starting with his lips caressing your collarbones and continuing with breakfast in bed. It didn’t even matter if you didn’t want to leave; he would take you with him, wherever he went. He even got in trouble once for sneaking you on base.

You missed his scratchy morning voice and warm hands and how he always had an arm around you. You missed him caring about you, wiping your tears, and you missed how confidently he showed you off and stood up for you. You missed almost everything about him, if you’re being honest. You thinking you could live without him was but a brief lapse in your sanity.

“I missed you too.” He whispers. “I… I really do love you, darlin’. I’ll shape up, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You smile.

For the first time in a while, Jake can feel hope pricking at his heart, and you can feel it beating through his shirt.

Maybe, just maybe, you think, this can work.

Taglist: @seitmai

[loser-user-noaccuser]

What is it with my mother picking fights first thing in the morning?

[confused-rat]

I think Lily admitting that she was being irrational about the whole Carousel situation should be more important than I think it'll end up being in the grand scheme since she deleted the asks and Carousel herself isn't a major player in the Lily story these days and tbh, good for her.

But it really should be because there it is right there, she admitted she spent the span of a few months harassing someone she considered one of her closest friends to the point of people going and sending said former friend hate, she knew it was wrong and she did it anyway. And with every other notable person she can make an excuse that "they're my abuser" or "oh they are a stalker and a hate mob" or "they're transphobic/racist and harass me for that reason" we know she's full of shit but her audience will defend her. But with no excuses she can use since Carousel is a woman of color/still friends with her friends/clearly not a bigot/not involved in the situation so obviously not a stalker she had no choice but to admit Carousel did nothing to her and she chose to do this to her anyway. She admitted that all those awful things she said about an innocent person were irrational and she still did it.

How can anyone see that she is willing to bully someone who in her own words did nothing bad to her and still think she's telling the truth about the rest of them? That just tells me that when she has no excuse for her awful behavior she'll just admit to it. How can anyone take her at face value with everyone else when we know the depths of how petty and cruel Lily is. IDK.

It just struck me that while we know she will attack anyone at the slightest offense, her audience believes everything she does in defense of herself and here she is admitting no it's not.

TBH Mikaila and Sketchy and whoever else Carousel is friends with in that group should take this as a sign that Lily has no loyalty to them too. Also, they're kinda shitty friends to her too if they can see Lily admit that she did it for no reason and stayed her friend.

(Post anon is referring to.)

While she may not be directly responsible for the harassment Carousel got, Lily is very much accountable for cultivating the environment that encourages her fans to lash out and attack anyone who “hurts” Lily’s feelings — no matter the context.

This shit was horrendous, and it still didn’t stop Lily from vague-posting and stoking the fires.

Her deleting that earlier post just reminds me of when she admitted she was the one being shitty to JoshScorcher then later deleted the post and made a whole video tearing into him instead. I hope that situation isn’t repeating, otherwise, wow, Lily really cannot admit to being wrong without immediately backpedaling.