dash only. selective. / private. / multimuse. tolerated by yami.
guidelines / muse list.
Cosimo Galluzzi
Acquired Stardust

Love Begins
KIROKAZE

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Andulka

#extradirty
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
dirt enthusiast

Product Placement
Game of Thrones Daily

titsay
hello vonnie

Kaledo Art
Xuebing Du

tannertan36
Sweet Seals For You, Always

pixel skylines
styofa doing anything
Jules of Nature

seen from Colombia
seen from Canada
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Sri Lanka
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Belgium

seen from Netherlands
seen from Albania

seen from Malaysia

seen from T1

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
@headoffices
dash only. selective. / private. / multimuse. tolerated by yami.
guidelines / muse list.
copcorrupted:
@headoffices. “ i tried to give up before. but the universe just didn’t let me. ” from lucifer, in either of his verses. also hewwo. o/
❛ have you? ❜ despite what little dan knew about this guy, he didn’t seem like the type of person that would give up on anything; much less something that he himself had set out to do. ❛ … you know, it’s never too late to try again. ❜
alcohol was a hell of a drug, even for someone like himself. given a large enough quantity, that is. the angel pauses, shot glass half way to his lips, to look at the man to his side, whom he’s been mumbling semi-coherently to for- only dad knows long now, and eye him up for a beat. he squints, a halfhearted sneer creeping into his features. “ is that how ‘ pep-talks ’ go theses days? ” down his gullet the shot of whatever-it-is in his glass goes. he doesn’t even make a face before continuing. “ aren’t you supposed to say something like, ‘ no, don’t give up, look for the sliver slinging ’, or something like that? ”
reminder that, even on the days you’re feeling negative, you are valued. your writing, your presence, your muse(s), and you. you matter. ♡
reminder, in case nobody has told you lately: you are valued in the rpc. thank you for being here. every single one of you is sharing a little part of your creativity with us all, putting a little part of yourself into a character you love, and sharing your talent with us.
even if you feel like you aren’t getting as many interactions as you want to, or you’re disappointed that nobody is telling you that you’re doing a good job, i am proud of you. you are sharing your writing with the world, you are pouring life into a character you love and/or have created, and i think that’s amazing.
scorchedfootprints:
THE FIGHT WAS FINALLY OVER and for jack, it meant life was just beginning. life was fickle and since he was no longer worried about god coming down to smite him, he figured he might as well focus on other things. his powers had grown stronger, and truthfully, he could have been the next god, but it just wasn’t for him. he was a kid. he wanted to be a kid. he wanted to explore. and most importantly? he was now in a world where dean was dead and sam had slowly started to gain a life for himself after the death of his brother.
CASTIEL also came to check on him from time to time, but truthfully. he wanted his family. not the one left behind. but the one he had wiped off the face of the earth. if there was one thing jack knew about people? they deserved second chances. his mother. dean. and most importantly, his father. his biological one at that. the empty wasn’t his greatest fan, but he knew waking people up in the empty caused problems. so he had to do this correctly. the ritual was long. it was strenuous and most importantly, he was the final ingredient. at least his blood was.
the next several hours were a blur for him. he had gathered everything, including nick’s body after he brought it back, slit his hand open, and drizzled a decent amount of his blood into the offering in the middle of the floor. for jack, doing this right meant not just popping down into the empty and pulling lucifer directly from his slumber. truth be told, if his father wasn’t awake this wasn’t going to work in the first place. but the sudden appearance of the rift forming in the middle of the floor made him realize he may have actually done this correctly. the RED eyes are what grabbed his attention first as the essence formed into a crudely shaped figure standing before him.
jack didn’t move, instead, he gestured towards the body on the floor. the golden hue in his eyes flashing briefly. if his father tried anything, jack wouldn’t hesitate to send him back. @headoffices
you know- coming back to life sucks. he almost- key word: almost -doesn’t want to. it’s like he’s swimming in syrup, or in the matrix, but that one famous scene. you know the one. lots of bullets, a very limber spine. yea, that one. he’s sluggish, heavy, hardly able to focus on anything. save for the promise behind that pompous little glare. if there’s anything lucifer is good at, it’s reading the room. so he takes his time, his oozy, undulating tar-like form standing his ground for a long time, his own pit of hellfire gaze watching jack carefully, not unlike a cornered animal. watching for a trick, no doubt. a trap. why else would he be here again? ...wait. why is he here again? hasn’t team free will 2.0™ had their fill of his demise yet? there’s a fetish for that kind of stuff, if he’s not mistaken. lets not go there.
the movements are slow, sluggish, like he’s thousands of miles underwater, in the deepest part of the ocean, but eventually, those sunken red eyes of his start to leave jacks form and take in their surroundings. had he eyelids, they’d be squinting, questioning. no dumb, no dumber, no castrated attack chihuahua. when the devils attention turns back to his son, to the familiar corps splayed out on the floor, almost like an offering- the ‘ voice ’ that comes out of the slop that is his current, pitiful state, is all kinds of wrong. it’s distorted, muffled, so very far away, almost like he’s lost out in the endless void of space. which, really, isn’t all that far from the truth, but we’ll digress.
“ not good enough to watch from the sidelines anymore? ” different planes of reality or no, nothing can overpower the bitterness in his tone. the tiredness, the sick-of-it-all-ness. “ pass. ”
It’s the Great Plan, Crowley. Yeah. For the record, great pustulent mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan! May you be forgiven. I won’t be forgiven. Not ever. That’s part of a demon’s job description.
So what? I killed the girl! Big deal! She’s a human! She doesn’t matter! So am I!
k-luna:
due to not wanting to, i will not. thanks.
@detektivin:
❝ You do realize that what you are doing is illegal right? ❞
offhandedly, hardly paying attention and without bothering to quit whatever he’s doing. “ ‘kay, cool, add it to the list. ”
I’M NO GOOD
Only Angels Have Wings, Nicole Dollanganger / Jennifer’s Body (2009) / The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, Stephen Adly Guirgis / Cellophane, FKA twigs / You Know I’m No Good, Amy Winehouse / Skeleton & Demon, Brian Luong / The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde / 1x09 “Horse Majeure”, Bojack Horseman / Helter Skelter (2012)
what type of lover are you?
loneliness of the lover
you were born into your loneliness, your family always had better things to love. you're a hopeless romantic, of your friends there's only one or two you haven't fallen for. it's a pattern, you don't want to think about that, though. every person you get close with, your heart locks them into your life. the chains are too tight, or too heavy because they always become overwhelmed and leave. you're too much, a violently bright fire trying to be held by gentle human hands. it's no wonder you burn them. you just aren't meant for love like humans are.
tagged by; stole it tagging: you!
ooc / basic / additional character tag drop
no body asked, but grabriel absolutely was the beast of gévaudan. he took certain… liberties in his orders to “ weed out the seeds of evil ” in this area of france. thank you for coming to my tedtalk.
headoffices-a:
i was watching the clip from good omens where aziraphale is in heaven after stepping into the portal and that one angel with the muttinchops said his whole platoon was waiting for him and that made me think.
did he mean they’re waiting for him so they can all start together as a whole unit, or is he the platoon leader. i mean, he’s always called ‘ aizraphale, principality, angel of the eastern gate. ’, which is a pretty big deal? the guardian the big gate? of the so i’m thinking i want to make him the platoon leader. weather that means, i dunno, leader of the other angels who guarded the other gates of eden, or of all angels who had anything to do with the garden. both, probably, actually. could also explain his flaming sword seeming to be a big deal of its own, given how it was given to war to start the apocalypses and all.
i don’t know exactly how the rankings of angels works in good omens but i like the idea of aziraphale being a platoon leader when he’s the least fighty angel to ever have been made.
think about it. this pudgy, kind faced little blonde angel at the head of a platoon of warriors.