#EXPENSIVE HOBBY!! EXPENSIVE HOBBY!! EXPENSIVE HOBBY!!

[wrenekingsely]

There's also the part where Professional Writing (TM) is a long and expensive fucking process. You write a draft. You give it to your beta reader, you hire a developmental editor or you don't look at it for six weeks and try to read it really critically. You question what the fuck your were thinking in the first place. You start rewriting. You might rewrite it multiple times. You give it more people to read, put it on a critique website. You pay for more editing. Then some more editing. One last rewrite. Then don't forget the copy editing and proofreading!

Getting writing to that level usually takes months of work and a lot of money. The people that sit down, write some fanfic, post it and it's professional quality? Do not compare yourself to those people. You wouldn't compare yourself to Lang Lang if you play piano as a hobby. Those fuckers either have a lot of practice under their belt (might actually be published authors that write fanfic on the side) or are some kind one in a million wunderkind.

And you.

Yes, you.

The person that's currently thinking about rewriting their fanfics. I see you, you little shit! Don't you even think about it! If that's your take away from the post, I swear to god, I will find you, pick you up by your ears and shake you!

At some point "fanfic can be as good as professional writing" became "fanfic should be as good as professional writing" and that's caused major damage to fandom spaces.

[quarterlifekitty]

König and Domestic Silk Moth Hybrid!Reader

Due to popular demand (about 4 people)

Context: in this one, I’m having König stay human and having hybrids in a pet role. As an insect hybrid, I’m making her small AF (like 2-3 ft tall). I did consider making her Barbie sized tho 👀. So this is gonna have size kink bordering on micro/macro just so you know!

König is stuck on medical leave, and pretty damned miserable. He sustained a break that’s put him out of commission for a while. He’s never spent so long in his empty home, and it’s driving him insane. He’s spent basically his entire adult life married to his work, so he’s woefully unprepared to keep himself entertained.

And despite being something of a loner most times, he misses the noise. He misses the bodies and conversation. He and Horangi have a phone call every so often, and text as frequently as the work allows, but that only takes up so much time in the day.

And it’s Horangi that suggests a hybrid.

That’s something that he could throw himself into to keep occupied, as well as giving company. And unlike a pet, a hybrid would be able to be mostly self sufficient whenever he returned to work.

(Horangi doesn’t want to say if he returns. But König is not a young man, and has sustained a serious injury. There’s a chance that even if he heals, he won’t be the same as before. Combined with his rank, it won’t be huge surprise if he’s pressured or forced into retirement if his utility is limited.)

König is apprehensive— so he doesn’t want something quite as needy as a cat or dog hybrid, where he’d have to deal with heats and noise. And Horangi happens to have an old friend, retired, who raises domestic silk moth hybrids with his newfound free time. You’re picked to be offered up, freshly cut from your thick silk cocoon.

And for König, it’s love at first sight.

You’re very pretty. Fluffy white fur, big, dark, eyes. And so small. You barely come up to his hip, and raise your arms, asking to be lifted. It’s only then that he learns domesticated silk moths are flightless, their wings are pretty but unable to fly. It makes him feel a little bit of kinship with you. Restricted movement, denied purpose.

And basically his life revolves around you from that point. König doesn’t have many involved or expensive hobbies, so he has a lot of time and resources to devote to your care. You’re something of a niche pet, so it’s a little difficult to find things made for you. He resorts to commissions. Don’t fucking look at his Etsy purchase history.

You live your life perched on his shoulders or in his arms (you’re much too small to keep up with him). He’s a little afraid of letting you in his bed at night, he doesn’t want to roll over and crush you by accident, but you keep crawling under his covers anyways. You can’t help having cocooning behavior.

He’s constantly sitting you on ledges. On the sink while he shaves, on the counter when he cooks, on his desk when he works. You’ve always gotta be within arms reach for petting purposes.

And the petting, the kissing… he’s so addicted to the contact. He’s been alone for so long, and you’re so soft.

And that just leads to him getting more and more curious about your body. You don’t mind— you love him! And he loves his little Seidenmotte.

He’s beyond delicate with you. You’re so small— he has to work you up quite a bit before he can even fit a finger into your cute little pussy.

God it makes him hard how he can pin you down by the stomach with just one hand. And you make these little pips and squeaks when he fingers you— it’s just too cute for words. He totally shares some pictures with Horangi as thanks. (Which might lead to a couple of other colorful character asking to see pictures of you).

Usually he fucks your soft, fuzzy thighs to get off. He’s so warm and heavy against your clit, his cockhead practically reaching your chest. He paints your tits with white, pearly ribbons that glisten against the fuzz of your chest.

If you’re on top, he likes watching your useless wings beat while you slide your wet little cunt over him, the ridge of his head making you shiver when it bumps against your clit. You usually end up making yourself cum once or twice, and when you’re too tired and sensitive to move yourself he’ll grab your waist and grind you against him, using you like a toy to get himself off.

You don’t spread your wings often, but when you do, it leaves a little bit of moth dust behind from the tiny scales you shed. König thinks it’s so cute to see it against his bedsheets— it’s like glittery fresh snow, proof of how excited he made you.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I absolutely loved the dom shiu and nanami headcanons, can you do one with Gojo please?❤️

The way Satoru obsessively doms you

Tags: dom!Satoru x fem!Reader, sub!Reader, headcanons, dom/sub relationship, NO age regression, sub space, suggestive, mdni!

An: I’m glad you all are enjoying these :3

• Satoru definitely feels the need to keep tabs on his sub at all times. If he’s not peeking in on you with his six eyes, he’s keeping tabs on your phone and life360.

• Condescending, condescending, condescending…

• “Awh, look at you… is somebody needy for me, hm?”

• I hope you have a little bit of a humiliation kink because Satoru looooves seeing you embarrassed in front of all his friends. He’ll rub your hair just the way you like, gettin you all flustered while gently tugging on it — treating you like nothing but a little doll for him to toy with. If you try to dodge him, he’s only going to pull harder!

• “Look how pretty she is, riight~?” He’ll actively call attention to you to his friends — letting them gaze at your flushed cheeks and glassed over eyes.

• He’ll let his friends look at you, but don’t get it wrong. Satoru is possessive. “You’re all mine, pet. Those losers don’t deserve you.”

• While Nanami wouldn’t tell his sub what to where, Shiu would absolutely puck out his sub’s clothes — Satoru won’t pick out your clothes, but he’s at your side at all times like a guard dog, daring for someone to try their luck with you.

• Constantly showering you with expensive luxury gifts. He loves buying you cute panties and bras, but he’ll also spoil you in the sense that you’ll like barely mention you kinda enjoy this one hobby, and Satoru will buy literally everything pertaining to that hobby. He loves seeing you happy and flustered.

• Touchyyyy. Satoru needs to feel his hands on you constantly. He always makes such a scene of it too: snaking his hand from your tummy, between your breasts, up to your neck to squeeze your windpipe carefully as he presses a passionate kiss to your lips.

• Has a praise kink of his own, “If you’re going to make noise, don’t waste your.. ngh~ breath on moaning. Fucking praise me. Tell me how good only I can make you feel..”

• “Yeah, you like that? Tell me how much you like it, pet.”

• Yeah, remember that humiliation thing he likes? He will ask, “Who’s my good girl?” to you. No, he doesn’t care how cringe it is. No, he will not relent until you answer him correctly. He loves how embarrassed and frustrated you look when you finally give in to his whims.

• On one occasion, he made you grind against his shoe while hugging his leg until there was a small wet spot on the leather. He rubbed your hair and cooed to you as you begged to be fucked. “Oh, come on, pet. You can do better than that for me. Show me how much you want it, and maybe I’ll let you up on my lap.”

• If Satoru’s not in a dom headspace, he absolutely loves being little spoon. I don’t make the rules.

[earl-grey-teacake]

Some people spend hundreds of dollars on hobbies like knitting, crochet, etc. You know, tangible stuff that produces more tangible stuff. How many fanfiction authors do you know drop money on building a brand new PC because their laptop lagged so much when writing fanfiction? Because now you know one.

That’s right, not only did I recently buy new switches so I could write faster, but I got so upset at my 7 year old laptop for lagging so much when I write that I went out and bought parts to build a mid-range PC. I pride myself on being a financially responsible person, but the entire time I’m staring at my Amazon cart telling myself “buy it now, who knows how expensive it’ll be after tariffs.”

My laptop has delayed the publishing of 3 fics so I still somewhat stand by my decision.

[borom1r]

trying to talk myself down from buying more viking garb for the ren fest this fall even though there is no way in fuck I’m wearing 100% wool in September and all my original ren fest garb was uh. Dog Shit(tm)

also oscillating wildly back and forth between “keep the viking garb and ren fest garb separate” and just going “fuck it” and embracing full viking all the time

[jellyaibo]

closed species are so funny like what if i just make a design . will you fucking stop me? ooooOOoooo ill make a primagen oooOOoO THE PENCIL IS ON MY PAAAAPER OOOOoooOoOOo

[thevices]

I would be hard pressed to buy a $200 sweater but if I spend $250 on yarn and have to knit it myself it’s actually basically free

[gilbirda]

House limped into the hospital and immediately tried to turn around to leave.

"House!"

He froze, knowing that Cuddy would follow him to the deepest pit of hell if needed. It was her most annoying trait.

"House—"

"Well, good day to you too, Cuddy." He sighed, leaning on his cane. People walked past, barely giving them a glance. He noticed a folder in her hands. "You have a gift for me?"

"I have a job for you."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is this you finally snapping and firing me? I thought I was your favorite doctor."

"You are not," she snapped, pushing the folder to his chest, "and you are not fired. Yet." She added with a pointed look. "I already spoke to your team, they will take over your patient for today."

"I have a patient."

"Had. Now you don't." Cuddy turned around, looking over her shoulder. "the car will pick you in fifteen minutes."

Car? House didn't open the folder, trying to gauge what could have happened to make Cuddy get rid of her best doctor this quickly. Money, probably. Specially since a car was going to pick him up.

Some rich dude with an ouchie needed a private doctor? Sure. He could do this.

In and out. Piece of cake.

***

It was not a piece of cake.

Mostly because this was the most uncooperative patient he had. Ever.

"Where were you when the... accident happened?"

He was trying his best, promise. The moment the car picked him up, an expensive black Mercedes being driven by an actual modern day butler, House knew that he was right. Some rich guy was willing to pay crazy amount of money to have Gregory House do a house call. Well, a mansion call.

But the guy was not giving him anything to work with.

Also his whole damn family was hovering and he couldn't think!

"I was camping."

It was a lie, of course. But Bruce goddamn Wayne had asked for him, personally, to be brought all the way to Gotham to treat him. Why was he being so uncooperative?

"We think it's some kind of poison." The elder son, whose name he had already mocked enough times that it stopped being funny, interjected. Somehow he make House miss Chase.

"You think."

They had a lot of thoughts. Thoughts they kept talking about.

He couldn't hear himself think.

House took a deep breath, tapped the fancy wooden floor with his cane. "Look," he looked at Bruce in the eye, "I know you are lying. I don't know what you are, but I understand if there is some kind of... double life you rather not say. A dark secret," he lifted his eyebrows, "maybe something you do a night?"

Of course he knew this man was the Dark Knight of Gotham himself. It wasn't hard, if you were paying attention. Even Foreman would have been able to figure it out.

Mr. Wayne's facial expression hardened. Even in a lot of pain and probably with more broken bones he admitted to, he tried to intimidate him.

"You won't—"

"I don't care about any of that, of course." House twirled his cane, glancing at the circus hanging around them with bated breath. Probably the rest of the superhero gang. "I only care about whatever is wrong with you. Apart from the whole dressing as a furry and beating the shit out of people for fun," he shrugged, "but I've met rich people with weirdest hobbies, so. More morbid curiosity that professional concern."

He let his cane down and tapped it again, watching Bruce Wayne's expressions change at high speed.

"Now, will you be honest with me or are you going to keep wasting everyone's time?"

i need Dr. House to be Batman's temporary doctor for a month while Dr. Leslie Tompkins is recovering from some sort of rogue activity.

[hellenhighwater]

Have you taken any pottery classes or were you entirely self taught? I REALLY want to get into it but classes are quite expensive

I took some sculpting in undergrad, but it was in the context of casting and mold-making, not ceramics. So I'm fairly comfortable with clay as a medium but not so much with clay as an end product--not being able to do armatures and having to think about firing is weird. (If I had the opportunity to do bronze casting again, though, I would, no hesitation.) That puts me in the minority of my current pottery peers, who are largely self-taught or only learned in our studio.

I do pottery now at a co-op studio space, and technically that means that I'm taking classes there--but the classes are more like guided lab time? There's not really assignments or anything, and there's only a couple other people who sculpt, none of whom are in my class. Mostly the class just means that the person in charge demonstrates a technique or two once a week and then lets us do our thing.

Personally I think that shared studio space is the absolute best way to go. You spend less in startup costs (kilns are EXPENSIVE, running kilns is expensive, glaze is expensive) and it plugs you directly in to a group of fellow artists who can help and support you at whatever skill level you're at. Yes, classes are expensive--my class is $250 per season. But for me that includes lab space, 50 lbs of clay per season, almost all of the glaze I use, kiln time, and other people doing all the maintenance and kiln loading/unloading etc. Very much money well spent.

Artist-run shared spaces are often not turning a profit on anything with studio fees, just covering operations costs, so while it's pricey, it generally is just...what it costs to do that hobby. And it is sooooo much easier to be motivated when you're going to what is, basically, Grown-Up Art Club.

But if costs are prohibitive for you to do pottery via classes, and you want to learn to sculpt, then get some polymer clay and see what you can do. It's a different game than actual clay, but form is form, and the medium is secondary to figuring out how to translate an idea into reality.

Polymer clay is relatively affordable and doesn't require nearly the infrastructure of ceramics. If you can't spend the money on classes or a shared studio, then polymer clay is a great way to develop technique and an eye so that when you're in a position to spend the money, you already have the skills to make it worth what you're spending.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Do you like my art? Do you wish I would draw something specific? Great news!

~COMMISSIONS ARE NOW OPEN!~

If you are interested in commissioning me, please fill out the google form and I'll reach out to you as slots become available!

[Ko-fi - Google Form Link]

[hollowtones]

Hi Holly, whenever you take screenshots in steam games has me wondering if you take pictures of things that you come across in real life or is the video game environment something that has greater interest due to its non-physicality? (Sorry if this has been asked before)

I do photography IRL as a hobby, too! I like real pictures & video game screenshots for different but similar reasons.

For video games specifically there's something really neat to me about having a non-real space to explore. The suggestion of a space out of space and time, tangible but not physical, smoke and mirrors to suggest something that isn't there or to give form to something abstract that could never be. IDK! I've always found it compelling. That's less about taking pictures and more just me being fascinated by digital spaces & game development in general. LOL

At the end of the day just I like trying to capture a moment. Fun to think about different angles and different perspectives & how that changes how we feel.

[jungian-julie]

This used to be common knowledge when the only choice was to either become a nun or a mom. It's a sacrifice and picking up your cross either way. I see the suffering as important for my spiritual development. The other side of it is to learn to cultivate agape (charity love) even in the most difficult circumstances. Which I would've missed out on if they did let me become a nun.

Life is full of suffering either way. If I would've chosen to focus on my career and just live from vacation to vacation, with no other real purpose in life, that would be unbearable suffering to me. It would feel meaningless, just suffering at work so I can have my moments of pleasure.

You pick your sacrifices. You cannot go through life without sacrificing something. You just choose what is worth it to you.

I could've become a pro athlete in combat sports, but I wasn't willing to sacrifice my health. I had already broken bones due to it and it wouldn't have taken long before concussions would've piled up. I had to sacrifice being athlete, because I wasn't willing to sacrifice my body that way.

I have worked with those wealthier women who supposedly have more time for hobbies and their interests. That's not necessarily the case. They get 10k a month, but also have increased their monthly expenditures, have an outrageous mortgage, expensive cars etc., which often causes them to live from paycheck to paycheck just as much as anyone else. They still only get to travel maybe once or twice a year and still have to beg for time off.

The CEO of the major financial institution group I worked at, also said that her main regret was not spending more time with her family. She sacrificed her family for her career. She was promised a life of luxury and glamour, but she's so busy with work that she still doesn't have time to actually enjoy her money and spend time with her family. Sure her kids can have the latest gadgets, but at what cost.

There is no choice that you can make in life where you aren't sacrificing something. The grass always seems greener on the other side, until it isn't. Just pick what is worth it for you and deal with it.

just once, i'd like to see a "tradwife" blog where the wife in question looks 10 years older than she really is. i'd like to see the prematurely white hairs, the dried and wrinkled hands, the cracked and dull nails from constantly cleaning and washing dishes, the dark circles and eye bags. i want to see the trad wives who gained weight during pregnancy and never managed to lose it, the ones who have nowhere to complain that their knees and backs ache from scrubbing bathroom floors, the ones dead tired from spending all day on their feet sweeping and cooking.

i want to see the trad wives who look messy and disheveled because they had no time to wash their hair this week, whose faces hurt from falling asleep with their makeup on every night from sheer exhaustion. i want to see the trad wives who haven't bought a new dress in years, whose prettiest clothes don't fit them anymore, who only have one bra at this point and it's five years old and the underwire's starting to come out. i want to see the trad wives who are ashamed of their appearance, of the way their bodies changed, the baby weight they never shed. the ones who look longingly and jealously at wealthier women their age who look 10 years younger, those who have the time and money to invest in their looks and hobbies.

i want to see the trad wives whose children take them for granted. those whose children think the beds make themselves, the meals cook themselves, the house cleans itself. those whose children never help out around the house because "that's mom's job". i want to see the trad wives whose sons take after their fathers and never lift a finger to help because "that's women's work", and whose daughters are forced to become mini mothers and housekeepers from a young age because "that's women's work". i want to see the trad wives whose sons never grow up and whose daughters never get to be kids, because that's what they're taught.

i want to see the trad wives whose children are disabled. those whose toddlers aren't beautiful and docile little angels, but who have behavioural issues, developmental issues, health issues of all kinds. children who are crippled, paralyzed, on the spectrum, with down syndrome, deaf, blind, nonverbal. those whose children will require permanent care or even hopitalization throughout most of their lives, who require therapy or medication, who struggle with chronic pain or emotional regulation, for whom every day is a fight.

i want to see the trad wives whose husbands struggle to make ends meet. i want to see trad wives faced with a near-empty pantry, trying to figure out what to feed their children with. i want to see trad wives whose husbands are breaking down under financial strain, constantly irritable and withdrawn because they don't know how they'll afford the mortgage this month. i want to see the trad wives who have no idea how to help pay the bills because men are the ones who handle finances. i want to see trad wives struggling to hold back tears when their children complain about eating spaghetti and tuna for the second week in a row, or when they ask for a christmas gift they can't afford.

i want to see the trad wives who can't remember their own hobbies. i want to see trad wives whose eyesight's so far gone that by the time they have time, they can no longer read, or paint, or sew. i want to see the trad wives who gave up on their self-care routines long ago because there wasn't time nor money, the ones who haven't bought a candle or a new novel or a colored pencil set in years because their kids' dental surgery or college tuition was more important. i want to see the trad wives who say "i used to be a wonderful dancer once" or "i really loved pottery once" or "i was very good at math once, doubt i remember any of it now" with a sad, faraway look in their eyes.

i want to see the trad wives who are real. these pastel moodboards full of flowers and shining kitchens and blonde babies and thin young women with perfect skin are an illusion. they don't exist. to be a traditional housewife is to accept a life full of sacrifice. it means you're willing to waste away, to shrink in on yourself until there's almost nothing left, just for the sake of your family.

even if you do everything right, if you marry a good man who provides for you and doesn't abandon you, or cheat on you, or abuse you in any way (which is already like finding a needle in a haystack), you will still be faced with exhaustion and suffering. your children will not be perfectly angelic and lovely. your house will not be clean and flawless at all times. your husband will not be loving and doting forever. you will have to work yourself to the bone; you will have to sacrifice your looks, your health, your hobbies, your emotional needs, your physical and mental well-being. nothing about you will be a priority anymore.

if that kind of sacrifice is worth it to you, then i commend you; you are far braver and more noble than i. but if you are not willing to sacrifice everything about yourself for the sake of your family, then you should take a long, hard look in the mirror, and ask yourself if you've fallen in love with a fantasy. because i can promise you, the reality is so, so much uglier than you ever could've imagined.

[wordfather]

accepting the fact that you suck ass and no one give a shit is the first step towards having fun with a new hobby

[amygdalae]

wait im sposed to be doing stats homework rn how did i end up browsing gothic lolita clothing and accessories get me out of here

[clawsoutspotsoff]

"Meowdy, purr-dner." "I will shoot you."

we were talkin' 'bout wild west aus and of course I went into a trance and drew this instead of sleeping

[weatherman667]

Buying the models is quite expensive, and assembling and painting them is extremely time consuming. It's often joked about in the Warhammer fandom how it's an addiction and not a hobby.

Rich people with a hard drug addiction look stupid. What do you mean you have access to all of the world's pleasures and you still get addicted to heroin.... Lmao