#I mean not really half-assed but I didn’t have the energy to write this more detailed even though it could’ve been so

[writerfae]

Here’s the half-assed sequel/au angst I talked about

@rithalie-sideblog because you showed interest and @deadlycupid cause you always have to suffer through my angsty writing xD

“It was all in vain,” Talon whispered. “He’s dead… and for what?”

He wanted to scream, but grief tied up his throat like a rope around his neck.

His voice cracked. “For what?”

Aiden had tried to save the Alder. But it was too late. Now they had lost them both.

The goddess shook her head, looking at Aiden laying in Talon’s arms.

She put a hand on the shoulder of the poor man that clutched to the lifeless body in his hold, tears streaming down his face.

“A sacrifice made out of love is never in vain,” she said. “Look.”

Talon looked up to her through his tears. “I don’t understand. What…?” he questioned, but was interrupted by a sudden light.

He looked back at Aiden and gasped.

His whole body seemed to glow, hundreds of little lights rising from the lifeless figure in his arms.

Glowing golden like fireflies, they danced in the air like the seeds of a dandelion carried away by the wind.

More and more lights ascended, dancing to the mighty branches of the dead Alder.

Talon watched them in awe, arms tightening around Aiden, in fear his love would dissolve into nothing if he didn’t hold him tight enough.

The lights settled on the tree and where they touched the branches, the tree came back to life, rich green leaves blooming, its crown glowing with newfound light, newfound life.

The dancing light dissolved and before them stood the mighty Alder in full bloom.

Healthy. Alive.

And brighter than ever before, with all signs of sickness gone.

Talon wouldn’t have believed it if he didn’t see it happening. He looked down to Aiden, eyes fixed on his pale face.

It was as if he were asleep, sweetly dreaming in the arms of his beloved like he had often done in his life.

He looked so peaceful. Like he could wake up any second, smiling up to him. But he never would.

Tears began to fall again and Talon leaned forward to kiss Aiden’s forehead, before burying his face in the chest of the man he had loved and now lost forever.

“He is not lost,” the goddess said gently.

“He gave his life so that the Alder could live, to keep all of us save. His soul will live on in the holy tree. And in all of us.

Just like his love.”

[newcomernewcums]

i think price would be very good at giving spankings 👀 its the daddy energy

NSFW Price (daddy kink/spanking):

• He loves the way your ass jiggles, can’t get enough of it. Most of your punishments are him bending you over the nearest surface (his desk, his bed, his leg when there’s nothing else) and making your ass raw.

• Honestly, he just really likes your ass. It’s a problem. Before you two became a… *thing*, he was proper, made sure his eyes didn’t linger where they shouldn’t. Sure, he had to stop himself from staring a lot more than any superior should, but he kept it under wraps.

• And then he actually got you, knew what you sounded like mewling under him, what your ass looks like when it bounces on his dick, and he’s gone. After that he can’t stop himself from touching you as much as possible. There are too many times where you two almost get caught, or where he palms your ass as he passes you in the hallway, but he really can’t stop himself.

• He likes leaving marks, and since they can’t go above the collar there are almost always bruises between your thighs and on your ass. If it’s not finger prints from him using your ass to hold you down, its bite marks from him getting down on his knees—grunting as he does— and mouthing at your cheeks until he’s satisfied.

•His absolute favorite, hands down, is how cockdrunk you get when he spanks you. How you look up at him afterwards, eyes glassy, staring at him like he hung the moon and stars. Your panties are always soaked through, and half the time he can’t help but sink down to his knees, tongue lapping over your clothed pussy until you cum into his mouth

• He’d never tell you, but he loves it when you’re bad. Can’t wait for the moments you play footsie in the kitchen as the 141 is trying to have their (infrequent but nice) team lunches, or when you waltz into his office when he’s on the phone, doing your best to distract him (and succeeding more often than not).

• He takes any excuse to punish you, pushing you down, cigar hanging lazily from his mouth, and revealing your skimpy little panties. He always gives you exactly what you need, relishes in your little pants and whimpers as you beg for him.

•“Sorry daddy, d-didn’t mean to be bad,” you cry as his palm comes down. Crack. He can’t remember why he gets to punish you, but he really doesn’t care as he gets to watch your ass ripple.

• “I know, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing his hand over the already blossoming bruise. “but you needta take your punishment like a good girl for daddy, yeah? Count for me.”

• He rocks against you, dick leaking in his trousers. You make it to 15 before you break, and he pulls you into his laps, kissing your tears away and telling you how good you were for him, how well you took it, so pretty for daddy

I’ve wanted to write daddy kink price so fuckin bad man tysm

[sensei-venus]

could u write a blurb or smtg about Eli accidentally cumming in his chubby gf for the first time and kind of worrying about it?? but also thinking it's hot to

(Unedited)

He really didn’t mean to cum inside her. He was just so focused on her that he just didn’t realize how close he really was. His head was foggy as he watched her below him.

He was hitting it from the back, something they only recently decided to try out in the bedroom. Most of the time they only had sex facing each other and they both liked it that way. But when Reader suggested it just as something fun to try out, he couldn’t say no to the idea.

The minute he was inside her he know he loved the new position. She was on all fours with her ass in the air for him. His hands gripping at her plush sides as she worked herself back on his cock. He thrusted in and out of her tight pussy for a good twenty minutes before he felt himself coming apart. The way she tightened around him and the way her pussy juices splashed against the bed sheets. He felt it drip down his balls. Wet and hot against his skin.

When his balls drew up he didn't have time to pull out.

He wanted to paint her pretty ass with his milky cum, maybe even draw some patterns with it over her skin.

But no, he was busting a nut right into her tight pussy that was creaming around him. Her own orgasm following him a moment later.

His eyes where closed as they both panted. He rested against her back in a attempt to not fall to the side. He wanted go stay inside of her cunt for as long as possible. She was so warm and welcoming as she twitched and clenched around his shaft. Like she was trying to draw him in even more, get every last drop of his cum. He wanted rut into her and give her even more but he didn't have the energy. She moaned as he rested against her and that's what made him open his eyes and realise what just happened.

He shot up and looked down at where they where still connected. He was still inside her going soft, he had yet to even think about pulling out until now. He pulled her ass cheeks apart and watched his dick slowly slip out of her. She moaned the whole time as he slipped from her raw pussy. His fat cock was coated in a thick layer of their mixed up. A cream ring at his base and a clear and milky layer of his jizz stuck to his shaft.

A pretty little string of cum kissed his tip and kept him connected to her over worked cunt until it snapped and separated them.

He couldn't stop the way the blood from his face drained. He watched as a small bubble of cum popped from her wide hole. Cum dripped out and leaked down her flushed folds. It dripped down her fat clit and onto the bed bellow. His eyes widened as he swear he watched her push out a fat glob of the fluid, it gushed from her pussy like a river. It quickly spilled out more.

“I-I didn't mean to cum inside you I swear- I'm so sorry Reader! Do I need to go get something from the store or-”

“It's ok baby it was a accident. I have what I need for later so it's taken care of, don't worry.” she smiled up at him, her face still half buried in the sheets.

“C-can I clean you up?” He blushed as he looked at her hole that was now winking at him, another bubble of cum popping from her entrance. Reader raised a brow but nodded anyway.

A moment later he was licking a fat stripe up her pussy lips, his tongue dipping into her hole. He eat her messy cunt like he was dying, slurping and smacking at her folds and hole. He sucked at her wet folds, his mouth sucking softly at her engorged clit for a few seconds. He happily eat the mess of their mixed cum from her lower lips. Finally his tongue found her hole and he went to work fucking her with it. He thrusted the muscle in and out of her until she was shaking. Her legs shook and her toes curled. She screamed into her pillow as he made her clench around him.

He sucked fat globs of cum from her hole and slurped them down with no issues. All it took was his thumb on her clit as he pistoled his tongue in and out of her. It was wet and sloppy and filled the room up with erotic noises. His slurping echoed around them.

She cried out as she orgasmed against his mouth and he happily sucked her cum out.

Maybe he liked cumming inside her more then he thought.



[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Insinuation 2.4 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

Despite the way the conversation sounded, they were talking to me.  They were just pretending to talk to one another.  It was both calculating in how they were managing plausible deniability while at the same time they were acting totally juvenile by pretending I wasn’t there.  A blend of immaturity mixed with craftiness in a way only high schoolers could manage.  I would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it, if it hadn’t been at my expense.

In isolation, even at your expense, it's worth laughing at, but after a year and a half that includes all the other shit...

While this particular tactic was new to me, I’d been putting up with stuff like this for a year and a half, now.  At a certain point, I’d come to the conclusion that it was easier to sit back and take it, when it came to most things.  They wanted me to fight back, because everything was stacked in their favor.  If I stood up for myself and they still ‘won’, then it only served to feed their egos.  If I came out ahead in some way, then they got more persistent and mean for the next time.  So for much the same reason I hadn’t fought Madison for the homework she had taken from me, I just leaned against the wall next to the window and waited for them to get bored with their game or get hungry enough to leave and go have their lunches.

But maybe if you'd fought back sooner...

Maybe not, but passivity really didn't get you anywhere.

I was stunned.  I just couldn’t wrap my head around how he could just ignore this.  When he had been trying to help me, had he just been covering his own ass, doing what was required of him in the face of a situation he couldn’t ignore?  Had he just given up on me?  After trying to help, in his own completely ineffective way, after I turned his offer for help down twice, he just decided I just wasn’t worth the effort?

I'll pick option D, all of the above, with a side of E, Wildbow needs to make sure being Taylor is Suffering

But things didn’t work that way here.  Girls played dirty.  If I decked Emma, she would run to the office with some fabricated story, her friends backing up her version of events.  For most, ratting to the faculty was social suicide, but Emma was more or less top dog.  If she went to the principal, people would only take things more seriously.  By the time I got back to school, they would have spread the story through the grapevine in a way that made me look like a total psycho.  Things would get worse.  Emma would be seen as the victim and girls who had previously ignored the bullying would join in on Emma’s behalf.

Like, Presumably Taylor has some reason to believe this, but given how much people rag on fanfics for overstating how 'evil' the Principal is, etc, one wonders if this is really the case, or just Taylor thinking it?

I suppose we'll see.

“And she smells,” one girl said, lamely.

Aaaah, High School insults. Gotta love 'em.

No, my primary concern was getting out of there.  I wasn’t going to break the promise I had made to myself.  No using powers on them.  That was the line I wasn’t crossing.  Even if I did something utterly innocuous, like give them all lice, I didn’t trust myself to stop there.  I didn’t trust myself to keep from offering blatant hints that I had powers or spoiling my secret identity just to see the looks on their faces when they realized the girl they had been tormenting was a bona-fide superhero.  It was something I couldn’t help but daydream about, but I knew the long term ramifications would spoil that. Perhaps most important, I rationalized, was keeping the two worlds separate.  What use was escapism, if the world I was escaping to was muddled with the people and things I was trying to avoid?

and yet, by the time they do realize who you are, you don't have the energy to give a shit.

On the one hand, I do get why Taylor just doesn't give a fuck about Emma by then. On the other hand... it does feel like all this set up and then - nope, nothing. Or maybe it won't, by then. But The Trio seems to loom large in the fandom regardless. And lots of people are clearly unhappy they don't get their comeuppance.

Before the thought of going back to school had even crossed my mind, I found myself wondering what I was going to do to fill my afternoon.

Crime? Crime is good?

[annebelle93]

Oi meus horrores! I’m sorry for the one year absence, life’s been hectic in 2022 Brazil. But I thought I might brake the fast with a little fun headcannon as I go through the requests and write then! Thank you so much for the mutuals that came to my private messages to check on me in the long year, you guys are AMAZING! Without further ado

Things my family said with top “The Brothers energy”: Spouse edition!

• Lucifer

Text with a silly selfie while spouse at work: “guess who’ll be half naked eating pizza in bed now” Reply: “For the love of God, please let join you” “Love of god? I thought you were against God” Reply: “listen very carefully because I’ll only say this once, if it means being with half naked you, I am willing to swallow my pride and ask assistance from a vengeful inhuman entity of my dislike.”

• Mammon

Spouse, who is a computer engineer, playing on on-line cassino for fun, after lecturing me not to do it because it is made to make you lose money. “Didn’t you say this Is made to F you up?” Spouse roll eyes and smile confidently. “Maybe you, I’m build different” Loses ridiculously small amount of money. “Welp” throws phone away “time for onlyfans, I guess” “Oh, so you lose money gambling and now I have to sell feet pics?” Looks at me really confused. “What? No, why’d I be sharing your glory with the world? No, I’m doing onlyfans, you’re taking the pictures”

• Levi

Me distracted going through the phone waiting for the pump to fill the gas. “Amor, have you decided yet the song you’ll use in the wedding?” Spouse begins to fidget, look slightly insecure. “I kind of thought of one, but I’m not sure you’ll approve it” remains silent “Go on” “Before you say no, keep an open mind, please! It is a very important song for me, from my childhood, and if you’re willing to pay attention to the lyrics, you’ll see it’s very pretty too!” Plays ‘Dragon Ball Z’ opening song on radio, apprehensive. (The Brazilian version is indeed very well translated and is, overall, a really nice song). “Make sure to write it down, so I won’t forget when talking to the musician” goes back to the phone. “Is that ok with you? You won’t say no?” “Wouldn’t I be a hypocrite if I did? I want to use ‘Howl’s moving castle’, which is a movie, but technically an anime too” Proceeds to hold both my hands with a teary look. “I’m literally building a shrine for you in my closed when I get home”

• Satan

Spouse laying on the floor playing with my cats, trying to lure the calico one (who is very apprehensive of humans) out. “Here, Fionna! Come play with daddy!” “Excuse me, ‘daddy’? These cats are mine, you’re step dad AT MOST” “Babe, love, light of my life” gets up, holding my hands with a fake smile “the moment you said ‘yes’ to me, you are sharing half of your life with me, that includes the cats” “No, but…” “That includes the cats” looks deep into the eyes, with a determined expression “and make no mistake, I am willing to battle you in court for them. I wouldn’t like to, but I am willing to.” Looks at spouse silently “it would be a bloodbath and you know”

• Asmo

Me in front of mirror trying to close a pair of jeans after returning home from carnaval (for those not familiar with Carnaval, it means that I basically spent a whole week walking all over Rio feeding exclusively of fast food and alcohol from 7am to 9 pm, EXCLUSIVELY). “Amor, do you think I’ve put on weight?” “Hell yeah you did!” “Why do you sound so excited?” Replies without missing a single bit, “more ass for me to grab”

• Beel

“Let me just say how happy I am you decided to work out, amor!” Spouse says at lunch “Me too, I’m sleeping better and it’s definitely helping with the anxiety!” “Sure, that too” “Is it because I’m hotter?” “You’ve always been hot” serving a second plate “it because now you’re hungry all of the time and let me be the first one to tell you, your cooking is exquisite when you’re hungry! Also I’m very happy that you’re eating like a human being and not like a little bird”

• Belphie

4 am, me cleaning the bathroom in the middle of a insomnia crisis. Spouse gets up and looks very confused. “What are you doing?” “I don’t know, I’ve been feeling really hyper lately and sleeping kind of feels like a waste of time when I’m hyper.” “No!” Proceeds to grab my hand and drag me to the bed, with an angry expression “in this house we don’t say such heresies”

For those who haven’t seen it, I have a nephews edition right here! I hope you enjoy it!

[kithtaehyung]

So, I started university right before the pandemic hit, and demolished all my (barely existent) plans. I'm already almost 23 and more than halfway through a major I picked kind of on a whim based on what I thought I was good at, and tbh I still hate it. And I have no idea what career it would even lead to. I want to get more into music production or maybe even being an artist or something like that, but it's overwhelming and difficult at the same time... I think I love music, I love listening to it, and growing up I loved the energy of performing in bands and choirs and stuff more than anything, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm good at it, and I'm not a computer or instrument expert either... I feel so lacking in pretty much all of the various talents/skills... I know practice makes better, but it's so hard to persist when you feel so far behind, and it's hard not to feel discouraged completely when there's always someone newer, younger, and already so much better...

Babe, you are 22. You have.. SO much life ahead of you.

I know that doesn’t seem like anything to go off of right now, but I cannot express enough how excited I am for you because 22 is a wonderful age to start things. You have time to mess up, time to figure things out, time to really try a bunch of shit and get a grasp on what direction you wanna go for.

Don’t let society or other people tell you you’re too old to start something or too late to try something else. Who cares if there are people younger and better than you at something? Who cares if you don’t have a skill set right now? That’s gonna happen. As soon as you recognize that as a fact instead of a barrier for you to overcome, your mindset is gonna shift to “okay, what can i personally do to improve and get better? what do i myself need to do to get where i wanna be?”

Honestly.. this ask feels like something younger me is writing. Because I compared myself to countless people when I was in my early twenties and lmfaoooooo you know what? That dark place of “thinking I wasn’t gonna do great so why try” has only left me with regrets. You have a choice to make and if you really want what you want, go for it and don’t stop.

If I had actually took music production seriously and kept making shitty beats on FL Studio in my dorm room and didn’t give a shit about people telling me it’s not worth it to pursue? Who knows, I could’ve had a studio by now. I could’ve been on the Big Hit production team. I could’ve been working with Metro Boomin or any world-class producers.

Do those goals seem hilarious? Yes. But they also probably could’ve come true if I worked hard enough. But I’ll never know. Because I didn’t keep going when I did. Because I hit that wall of seeing how much I didn’t know about music and production and everything that goes into it, and I got discouraged and dropped it to focus on other things that were safer, more likely to keep me afloat. Don’t be like me if this is something you really do want.

We can do this together, really. Because I’m going for shit now too because that passion itself hasn’t gone away. I am asking people for advice when I need it. I’m networking with musicians and producers and mixing engineers and managers. I’m figuring out what I need to do and where I need to look for educational pieces and putting in the work that I was too discouraged to put in before. All while trying to tell myself it’s okay that I’m where I am at 30. Do this with me. It’s only gonna help you.

Bottom line: if you wanna do something, do it. So what if people are better than you? So what if you don’t have the skills or knowledge right now? Stay disciplined and do the work. Don’t half ass it and don’t think it’s gonna be something you do on the side. Treat it like it’s your life, and practice the hell out of whatever it is. If you end up thinking “this isn’t what I want,” then at least you know for sure and you can pick something else up. But if you keep that passion, hard work and effort will bring you great things.

And you’re gonna look back at this ten years from now and laugh because you’ll realize 22 isn’t far into life at all.

[thelargefrye]

the last of us for the fake title fic!

THE LAST OF US

pairing : ateez x f!reader x f!oc genre : thriller, cult, lovecraftian horror warnings : language, manipulation, death / murder, description of murder, blood / body gore, mentions of human sacrifice, mentions of sexual content (but nothing happens in this drabble!!)

sena thought for about three seconds before she realized she had to run. so she took off as fast as she could without looking back.

if she didn’t stop then she could make it. if she didn’t stop then she cou—

she was suddenly yanked back by her hair, a scream erupting from her throat as she was thrown to the ground.

“shut up! you’ll wake everyone up!” your voice comes out as a sharp whisper as you cover her mouth.

oh god… you were probably the last one sena wanted to be caught by. literally any of the other executives would have been better but you.

“come on, get the fuck up,” you say pulling her up harshly and dragging her through the compound until you both reach a small building that was probably furthest away from the apartments.

sena had to brace herself as you threw her into the small storage building and she felt a sense of dread begin to overcome her. this was it, you were going to kill her for trying to escape, she just knew it.

“well? are you going to tell me what you were doing out of your apartment in the middle of the night?” your voice is sickly calm, as if you were her parent scolding her for sneaking out.

your one eye glared down at her as you waited for an answer. “i-i was just going for a jog, i couldn’t sleep and was trying to get my energy out,” sena lies and she thinks for a moment that you actually believed her.

but then you laugh. it’s a maniacal laugh that makes her blood run cold and she knows that you are either going to kill her or go tell hongjoong.

“listen you stupid fuck,” you say bending down to her level. you grab her hair in a vice grip so she has to look into your eye. “if you’re going to lie make it a good one and second i’m gonna have you trying to escape and hongjoong on high alert when i’ve been fucking planning it for years. don’t think you can just escape by running. hongjoong will find you, everyone here belongs to him whether you want him to or not.”

your words shocked sena, you’ve been trying to escape… for years now? you, one of the executives here, have been trying to escape.

“let me… let me in on your plan, i can help you,” sena says finding an ounce of courage.

you let out a half hearted laugh, as if she was sad child that said something, “you really think i’ll let you help me after this stupid ass stunt. i should kill you for this.”

“if you don’t let me join, i’ll tell hongjoong you’re planning to escape,” sena is desperate and if that means blackmailing you then so be it.

however, you don’t fall for her threat, and the grip on her hair tightens, “you really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you. just because hongjoong let you suck his dick once doesn’t mean he’ll believe you over me. i’ve been getting on his good side and doing everything for him for years. his trust in you is nothing compared to what it is for me.”

“then i’ll tell san!” sena is desperate and she’s sure you can tell. she hates to use san like this, but she needs to escape this place.

“you even open your mouth to him and i’ll fucking kill you where you stand,” you hiss out. “now this is what you’re going to do, you’re going to walk back to your apartment, go to bed, and when you wake up in the morning you are going to forget that you tried to escape and that this conversation even happened. do you understand?”

“y-yes, ma’am,” sena whimpers defeatedly and you finally let her go. sena knows that if she doesn’t listen to you, then you will kill her without hesitation. she’s grateful that you didn’t kill when you found her, but now she realizes she’ll have to be more careful in the future.

send a fake title and i’ll show what kind of fic i would write for it

[theuniversalscat]

Holy expletive! You know what I just realized about myself?! As much as I discuss being “all inclusive” in my life, I’m really not! Here’s why: I will no longer accept half assed behavior in any way, shape or form. I just won’t do it. And that means, that I am not “all inclusive” in the broader, general sense of the term, meaning energetically, and not pertaining to the color, culture, race, gender, or orientation of a person, because we, as humans, are much more than that. We are what we choose and believe ourselves to be.

I was more, “all inclusive” when I accepted people treating me poorly, ripping on me to my face and laughing it off like it didn’t bother me, gossiping about me, any form of slander, blowing me off, making things up that aren’t true about me, ghosting me (just learned that term a few years back, and was totally flummoxed when people did it to me…) like the first time I was stiffed while waiting tables. I was crawling on my hands and knees on the ground no joke, looking for my tip. What did I do wrong?!

Answer? Not one G.D. thing, that’s what. Sometimes you are going to run into people who are in a different vibrational state than you are. And when that happens, usually the givers are left feeling confused, bewildered and hurt. Sometimes there’s a good reason for the behavior, but most of the time you may never know why things work out the way they do. So I have learned, at 49, to be able to accept the behavior that doesn’t jive with my flow. So I take the hint, and move forward past it more quickly, and without as much mental investment.

I’m only writing about this now, because I literally had no idea how much this specific belief has been negatively affecting my life. I was accepting all kinds of whack energy that people would give me that wasn’t my own. And it certainly didn’t measure up to what I now know I deserve.

So, I discovered being more selective with the energy I surround myself with, which also includes the very loud and sometimes obnoxious “self loathing talk” that goes on in my head when I’m not concentrating or full conscious of it, is imperative to my mental health. And to my soul, which is pure, and deserves the best of support, backing, and care.

And sorry base level energy, but the bouncer at the door of my extremely high end and exclusive VIP room is ready to bounce you straight into the past where you deserve to be.

It doesn’t mean I have discount, minimalise, or shut out good intentions if they don’t match or aren’t the way I believe, think, or do things. I will recognize love in all forms and still appreciate it. It just means that I will make my way through the rest of my life including me, and not leaving me out of the VIP status.

[farfromstrange]

Dear Everyone,

I wasn’t sure whether or not I should write this, but as I’ve checked back in with my Tumblr account, I’ve come to realize that you guys deserve an explanation.

Yesterday, I finished my last written final exam. I’ve worked my ass off for the past five weeks and now I’m done. I’m not sure if I did well enough or if I screwed up, but all of that doesn’t matter right now because I am done. I’ve made it through. I’ve survived and now I’m (almost) free.

I wasn’t active much these past five weeks, I didn’t interact with some of the amazing work my mutuals put out and what’s to be found on my timeline, and I haven’t written anything in over a month. As someone who’s used to writing non-stop, it’s been hard and I’ve often felt like a failure because my head just wasn’t working the way I wanted it to. But then I realized struggling school and forcing creativity is just not something that’s going to help. Creativity has to come natural and if I don’t have inspiration, it’s of no use to blame myself for not being able to write or create something. I needed to realize that it’s a process that shouldn’t be and can’t be rushed in the ways I wanted it to, and that living for creating art for others is no way to live when I’m not enjoying it. So I’ve learned a lot about myself and where I wanted the work I do to go.

I’ve started on a journey to finding my essence because I’ve always felt like something was lacking.

I’m sorry to those who expected more of me, but my private life and school have drained the last of my energy and now that I’m done, I need time to recharge. That doesn’t mean I’ll disappear again, not at all, it just means that me prioritizing my mental health is something I deserve after burning all of my brain cells and giving more than I had for my education. And my mental health will always be more important than anything else, which a lot of you have told me too and it caused me to rethink some of the decisions I’ve made and how unhealthy they were.

It’s time for me to change in ways that will offer me the best life possible, and it’s a process I have to accept and work with. It’s crazy what five weeks of hell can do to you and how quickly it makes you mature.

I basically stared into the mirror and I hated what I saw, so trying to figure shit out now is important to me because I need to learn how to be myself and be independent for when the time comes and I need to be on my own. Which will be soon. And I want to figure it out because I’m not the type of person to just quit. I don’t want to quit, I want to keep pushing forward and I want to be the best version of myself I can be, flaws and all. I think that’s an important lesson I’ve learned.

I’m also terribly sorry to those who’ve been waiting for me to work on their requests. I didn’t forget, I just didn’t have the inspiration and the time to write. And I’m a perfectionist who likes to please others, too, so I didn’t want to write something half-assed and then disappoint you.

The time issue has changed, but the inspiration is still lacking and so I will try to find that creative bone in myself now that I can rest a little. I’m going to focus on myself to get back into the spirit of creating content because writing is my passion and probably the one thing that’s kept me sane most of my life. I don’t want to lose it. I need to practice a little and get back into it, and once I get my mojo back and I’m back to being myself not some depressed and stressed shell of the woman I was, I’ll come back to being as present as I used to be.

I might channel all the feelings and thoughts I’ve had over the past few weeks into words once I’ve figured out how to use them again. It might turn into some really good content. Especially the angst. Oh, I can’t wait for that. My fingers are itching, I just haven’t figured out how to work with it yet. That needs some time and peace, and I will grant myself that because I feel like I deserve it.

That’s another thing I’ve learned. I deserve to take care of myself, take time and grant myself some space and peace because I’m only human and I worked hard, so doubting myself is of no use. I deserve good things too. It’s like I’m growing up, almost, and I hate it as much as I love it because realizing all of this has made some things in my life easier to process.

Thank you to everyone who checked in on me, who shared their love and their support. It means the world to me. And to the over 400 followers I’ve noticed are now on my profile, thank you for entering my crazy world even though I haven’t been around much. I’ve never felt more appreciated. It makes me feel like my work still means something to people and that some of my writing still helps you guys in the same ways it helped me while writing it, and it’s this that gives me motivation to get back to writing. It makes me excited for the future. It makes me proud of myself for pushing through because I know it wasn’t worthless.

So thank you all for your support and I can’t wait to get back out there and just live my life. I can’t wait to write, to bring the faint ideas I have in my head to life and just interact with you guys again because that’s what makes this platform so much fun. I need good things in my life. I also need a vacation and lots of vodka, but that’s a talk for another day.

(Really, it’s a necessity I can’t afford, but I like to imagine I’ll be lying on a beach sooner or later with a cocktail in my hand and the sun shining down on my skin)

I love you guys with all of my heart and I lay my gratitude at your feet.

Yours truly,

Lizzi 🤍

[mebiselfandi]

A fact about you that I think is true; is that you emit love to everyone, but not many emit it back to you, which absolutely breaks my heart 🥹💔🫂(this is based on how I see you interacting with your moots and them not always reciprocated it back to you).

Hi nonnie👋

Idek how to reply to this but I’ve been sitting thinking about it for half the day.

Well, as someone who grew up being bullied(to the extremes) and just generally other not fun conditions, I’m kind of used to people not reciprocating me being nice. I mean I get it, even if it hurts sometimes. So irl I’m usually very reserved. Idk one person didn’t text me properly(long story but not really) like a month ago and now I don’t really text anyone back anymore. However, just because someone doesn’t feel open to my energy doesn’t mean I’ll let it affect how I treat them. If I love you then I love you. I can be intense and weird but it’s not something I’m really tryna change cause it’s who I am. Unless somebody points it out then I might get a lil sad. But it’s okay, I have more than enough love for myself and those around me. So I’ve just learned to be able to love those around me anyways cause at the end of the day all you have is love. And everyone needs a lil love even if they won’t admit it.

As for my moots, idk I don’t feel that way. I’m a very understanding person(that’s such an egotistical thing to say). So like I’m someone who loooves to write out too long responses and make intricate things for the people I care about. But not everyone’s like that. And it’s who they are and not a problem. Also people are too tired sometimes to have high energy replies every time. So if a moot replies without the same ultra long reply or wtv, I’m not gonna be mad about it cause everyone is different and unique. So as for not feeling like my moots ‘reciprocate’ my love? I’d say not really. I will continue loving all my friends in the way they deserve no matter what. Which is why I take long to respond and reply sometimes cause I don’t wanna give them half assed replies. I want them to know that I care about them truly and that what they have to say means a lot to me.

[theworldwalkerswols]

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

Version 1.

In between patrons. The building is more window than wall, all concrete and five stories of south-facing glass. This is all hell on me, a fucker with light and heat sensitivity. The building has won accolades for its Green design and energy efficiency, which means that the HVAC is half-assed at best and always several hours behind the actual current temperature outside, leaving us with eighty-three thousand square feet of microclimates. Summer is my detested. Even so, on a clear day, the view south across the river, to the hills beyond, is breathtaking. When they built the place they didn’t think about all the expanding and contracting the floor panels were going to be doing with temperature changes, and failed to outfit the literal millions of bolts with rubber gaskets. Over a decade later, the floors, hollow to accommodate plumbing and cables, pop, thunk, creak, and squeal with the weight of passerby. Every desk has its quirks, but thankfully most of them have a Taller station; this is important, as I now need to be able to switch between sitting and standing, sometimes several times an hour, so I always place myself where I can more easily manage that. I end up having to turn the vast majority of the computer monitors to portrait position thanks to the polarization of my prescription sunglasses. I open chrome in incognito mode, use a privacy screen, and zoom docs out to 75 or 80 percent, depending on the floor I’m on. Often I do little more than reread, but depending on the day, I might peck away at my WIPs. Passerby inevitably comment on the fact that I wear a mask, brimmed hat, and sunglasses every day this time of year or on my metal water bottle, which holds A Gallon. I like it because I don’t have to tally how many times I refill it, but also because it could kill a man.

Version 2.

Home, nestled in the comfiest chair in the house I grew up in, a brown armchair with detached ottoman. The fabric has a shallow nap like velvet: smoother one way than the other. I have my lumbar pillow tucked into the small of my back and my feet up, a cheap lap desk balanced on my thighs and my guttering fifteen-inch laptop atop it, its fans blazing away, and it perpetually plugged in as though it’s on life support. To my left is a little side table beneath a wall lamp, which I prefer to have off unless it’s full dark, with a drink - tea, coffee, beer, or whiskey on the rocks are all likely candidates. With my back to the southeast corner of the house, I’m inevitably facing the piano I learned to play on and, above it, the sloped, vaulted ceiling that reaches its apex over the stairs. The dining room table, further to my right, is cluttered with projects and things my wife and I have yet to put away, lacking the energy, space, or both to do so, living in a household of four adults and two dogs. Mom’s Corgi, named in honor of a footballer (whose name we nevertheless technically mispronounce, Gods forgive us), barks at everything and nothing, her semi-howling hitting a high enough decibel to cut through my sound-canceling headphones, which play nature sounds that fit what I’m writing—Ishgardian fics almost always get a combination of wind and the snap of a wood fire, for example. “Xabi!” I borderline yell in a desperate bid to get her attention, “Leave it!” Or, if I’m really at the end of my chain, the idle but deeply cathartic threat, “I’m going to put you on the roof!�� (My wife coined that one.) Sometimes her little brother, the chihuahua daschund mix Bear, succumbs to his perpetual FOMO and joins in, his higher-pitched, piercing barks enough to rattle my teeth in my skull. I take my headphones off - they’re not doing their job anyway - and go to the tall, narrow window flanking the door to physically shoo them away from it, saying “There’s nothing out there! You know what that means!” I extend my arms, hands open, toward Xabi in a this time very real threat to pick her up, repeating “You know what that means!” as I advance toward her and she scrambles to run away, her claws skittering over hardwood floors and tile. She knows that if I catch her, I’ll hold her in my arms like an infant, belly-up, and (gently!) bounce her, chanting “Act like a baby, get treated like a baby!!” which is a time-honored tradition from a past household. Inevitably she gives me her Most Disapproving Side-eye, possibly even licking my cheek or my nose in a desperate bid to win her freedom - this from a dog who we sometimes have to literally beg to get affection from (I am not above admitting that I have, in fact, fake cried to get her pity). Once I put her down, she may go straight back to barking. Or she may only huff and chuff, more air than sound, and earn praises of “Good girl, that’s a good quiet, thank you.” When she at last settles and I sit back down, Bear jumps up on the ottoman and stares at me until I let him curl up between my knees under my lap desk (and he’ll whine at me, with increasing levels of pitifulness, until I comply - he’s even pawed at my laptop screen). Now that it’s quieter, I can tell what my parents are watching one room over - almost always soccer, though sometimes some tv show or other - and I put my headphones back on, drowning it out.

—

Thank you so much for the ask! Game here~

[strititty]

per my last reblog i decided to ramble in about nerds aint got shit, my most popular fic.

well, ostensibly i’m rambling about that but honestly i have 3 am motormouth and i took an edible so im just in that sort of mood, you know. all philosophical like. more under the cut

i wrote that fic in 2015 for drone season, when i was living in - and i cannot stress this enough - the MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOWHERE, though not as much as i would be the year afterward. my internet was shitty cornfield hotspot net and it was the summer after my first year of college so i had a helluva lot on my mind already.

the original document was just a little notepad file with word wrap turned on cuz that’s how i used to write all my shit, and i’d send people wips via pastebin. can you even imagine? PASTEBIN? i use google docs now but sometimes i wonder if i should go back to notepad lmao. smaller size, less evil google involved. when i was a kid i used word, though i can’t remember when that stopped being a thing. might have been during high school.

since i wrote nerds aint got shit so shortly after i had graduated high school i had a very clear picture of my OWN high school in my head, which probably lends itself to some weird stylistic quirks. my high school was very very small. i shan’t name it, of course, lmao, what am i some sort of fool? but it was tiny as hell and that tends to infect any sort of high school adjacent au i write. rereading it i can so clearly picture MY high school that it’s frankly a little funny.

fortunately my high school only had one creepy teacher and it wasnt the PE teacher + we got his ass fired, but fiction makes for a much more fun place to explore these sorts of ideas for me. idk why i have such a thing about age differences & teacher/student fics but i SURE DO.

i can still remember the summer days writing this fic, kind of, in a hazy way. i remember my phone being the only way i could connect with my friends and loved ones, and the sun beating down, and the way things were far too hot in my little room. my cat had gotten out and gotten pregnant by a farm cat, so i had to cough up money to get her fixed - she should have been already but the people i lived with were less concerned about that sort of thing and i’d been at college so i hadn’t been able to make my case. the kittens were cute but tiny and stunted b/c my cat was very young and small & only two of them survived. i think the third one was stillborn and that my cat ate that one, but since i wasn’t there when they were born i didn’t get a lot of the details.

i still think about this fic sometimes for the memories it draws up and the plans i have to revamp and add on to it--my initial idea was a sort of 7 day format where dave goes back to bro every day of the week, but that was a plot for when i was a more prolific writer with a clearer grasp of smut. now im lucky if i can get a coherent smutty fic down in a few weeks god save me lmao. i don’t know if it’s because i’m older or just a little more burned out.

it was a fun idea though and i do semi frequently consider revisiting it, especially when i get the energy and inspiration to write strider stuff. right now that energy is being conserved for certain other works but hey you never know.

i feel like there’s also a hundred points i could make about how my most popular fic is also my oldest homestuck fic, like. yeah, okay, homestuck was more popular back then, so it makes sense that it would have more kudos and what not. hs fanfic is a much quieter affair now, between the fandom controversy, the natural drop that happens after something ends, and how half of all fandom seems to be girlbossing too close to the hayes code. brodave used to get you 200 kudos and now you get like 20!

and you know i don’t like. hate that. i do post for engagement but i never really expected to be POPULAR you know what i mean? more like sharing this thing i wrote about something i’m interested in-- “i wrote this for me but you can read it too, please enjoy!” energies. but i think that it’s so interesting that something that is now approaching its eighth birthday (What The Fuck) had its biggest surge of participants ages ago. i wonder what they’re doing now and actually whatever theyre doing i hope theyre having fun with it but i don’t need to know because i’ve been burned before okay. ppl turning into fancops or whatever. shitty as hell.

the hour grows late so i shall return to the actual topic at hand:

nerds aint got shit’s ill-begotten romance. that shit was gonna be so toxic. i was definitely gonna write dave growing to sympathize with bro, kind of, with his crush fueled by terror kicked into overdrive. bro’s kind of a sad and pathetic weirdo even though to dave (and this is real, not imagined, dave’s not making it up) he is a significant threat. and dave was going to start to pick up those sad jerk vibes in addition to the horny vibes and start to, in an almost lalondian fashion, romanticize the shit out of it.

in a manner of speaking, anyway. im not sure if that was my full plan or what but there’s also just the gremlin brain breathing heavily going “god this is my favorite dynamic” which back then was fairly true. i had also written almost 20k of original teacher/student fiction so romanticizing that was not a new concept to me. i think there’s a part of me that does want to be in that place, you know, but from a safe distance where it’s also just fun and games.

that’s why fics are fun! that’s why trashy romance is fun :) insert something about ace kink here. i do not want to actually touch it but mentally touching it is ok.

nowadays i don’t write so much teacher/student fic tho im still hells of deep in my love of age differences. more often than not i find myself kind of drawn to a cougar/kid in their late teens dynamic nowadays for original fiction, tho i also love ancient vampire/regular human and just minor age and experience differences.

(jotting down ‘rose lalonde as a cougar’ for a future fic idea thanks)

i think ive grown away from this fic mostly, but it feels like a wild time capsule to me, and maybe one day i will unearth it to add more. maybe in 2025 for the a ten year anniversary.

[milkinghomelander]

Untitled Kylo Ren Fic: Chapter 4

I don't have much to say about this one other than it was really, really fun to write.

“So…if I’m going to die, can I at least get a little bit more freedom? Something to do? Can I get my shit back?”

“You don’t have to die. Just tell me what I need to know. I’ll let you go. You won’t have any charges. We’ll turn a blind eye to all of your activity.” I just nod at him.

“Not an option.”

“I haven’t found anything inside of you relating to the resistance. Are you hiding it on purpose?”

“Do you think I know how?”

“Then what’s keeping your loyalty to them?”

“I might’ve told you if you weren’t such a dick, you know?” Maybe it was because I just ate and had a bit more energy, but the anger was boiling in my throat. I kept going.

“You might actually be a likable person if you weren’t so hard for a revenge scheme that you commit triple the atrocity that was done to you-” He comes over and picks me up by my arm, turning me around against him, holding me there. I squirm, but I’m stuck. 

“It might be wise for you to watch your mouth.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem anymore.” The pressure he’s putting on my arm from behind is forcing me to bend over. A blush is running towards the tips of my ears. One of his arms moves from holding me to my throat. The leather of his gloves is cool against my neck. His grip is loose enough for me to walk away by now,  but I’m not.

“Kylo..?” I ask. He doesn’t answer me. He feels the bump of my voice box with his fingertips. I swallow and feel my skin press against him.

“You know, this really doesn’t feel murder-y,” I tell him. If he put his hand up a little more, I’d slip his fingers in my mouth. I can’t help it.

“Do you want it to stop?” he asks me. He’s running his fingers horizontally on either side of my neck, towards my throat, and back again. My eyes half close. I feel stupid or nuts or a rancid combination of the two, but I might as well find something positive about this experience.

“No. Not really.” He squeezes. I hum a soft approval. He rolls his hips up against my ass while holding me in place, pressing against me in small waves. 

I’m interrupted by fantasies that aren’t my own. We’re still here, but how we were earlier. I’m back in the restraints. He’s going to give me the anti-inflammatory, but he drops it in my mouth without removing his fingers, forcing my jaw down to check my tongue. Keeping his fingers settled on my open lips, he releases the bars and guides me down to my knees. I look up and run my tongue over his fingertips.

“I think this would’ve been a lot easier on both of us if you started with that,” I say, laughing a little. He stops moving suddenly.

“With what?”

“What you just showed me, the, um…” I blush. I don’t know what my problem is.

“...tell me.” He lets me go and I push away and try to shake it off. I know my cheeks are still warm, but I can’t help that.

“Well, you ran your fingers into my mouth…and held it open. You undid my restraints and pulled me down-”

“I didn’t show you that. I wonder how you saw it.”

“I’m glad I did.”

“I’m sure.” He steps back and just looks at me.

“Are you force sensitive?”

“Uh…not that I know of?” I’m baffled at this point. This guy hasn’t known what he wants since he opened my brain up. I had an edge to my voice earlier.

“I need to check. I’m going to have to take you to a reader.”

“A what?”

“A machine that’ll read your midichlorian count. It’ll tell me if you have a connection to the Force.”

“Why?”

“Because you read my mind.” He’s already cuffing me back up. I sigh. Heavily. 

“And what does that mean?”

“It doesn’t matter until I find out if it’s a possibility.”

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.” He turns when he notices my attitude.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“No? What kind of question is that?”

“But you’d sleep with me?”

“Well…yeah. You’re really tall and I’m really gay and about to die. Plus you have the whole mysterious thing going on and I kind of prefer getting my ass beat a little. Obviously you’ve noticed. I wonder where.” I shoot him a quick up and down. I need to go back to bed. Or roll a joint. Or something. This isn’t it.

“I saw a couple of things I didn’t mention.”

“You know, absolutely none of this has to do with a map,” I say, “...but what was it?”

“I’ll tell you after you come with me.” 

“Why?”

“This might save your life.”

“Mm. Okay. Fine. Looks like I don’t have anything better to do.” He doesn’t reply to that one. He leads me out of the room again, into the dull halls of the ship. I don’t make any comments this time around. I just walk with him, staring straight ahead, his fist still knotted in my shirt at the center of my back. He takes me farther into the ship to reach whatever lab area we have to go to. We pass a hall with walls made of glass. Staring through the windows, I find a peek into the mechanics of the ship: wires and pipes trail the walls over a vast emptiness. I keep staring down as he leads me. The ship I’m in has to be absolutely humongous. There’s no telling how many people are in here. Poe might be fucked.

He unlocks another door with a keycode I can’t see. I don’t really care this time, either. I don’t think the force tester thing is gonna help me escape. I also don’t think I’m force sensitive. I’ve never accidentally moved anything with my mind or…I don’t know. Seeing what Kylo was thinking is the closest to that magic I feel I’ve ever gotten, and I thought he was just doing that himself. The next hallway we turn into has a window that overlooks the galaxy we’re passing. Streaks of starlight race past our heads as we move. On my own ship, I’d get high and sit in my cockpit, just overlooking this same scenery. It was calming for me. Sometimes when things get bad, I need to be reminded of the general beauty of the world I stand in.

Some of the doors in this hallway are open; I’m assuming since it’s locked. Kowakian monkey-lizards lay restless in barred cages lining an entire wall in one room. Their cackling and frustrated grunting and howling echoes through the hallway quite a bit after we pass the room. It makes my stomach turn. I try not to wonder why they’re there. With the discolored tufts of hair poking from the sides of their frowns and their dirty beaks, I’ve always found them to be one of those things that’s so ugly, they’re cute. 

He finally takes me into what seems to just be a physical exam room. There’s a black exam table with a shitty cushion on it, some cabinets with a counter and a sink. Those are a blinding hospital white. He locks the door and starts sifting through drawers, pushing around the medical supplies. I decide to start fucking with him again.

“You ever gonna take your mask off?” I ask. He pulls out a white meter looking thing. It looks harmless enough. He sets it down on the counter, turns to face me, and just lifts the helmet up over his head. A mess of black hair that curls perfectly away from the edge of his face falls down to his chin. He’s pale, with a large pointed noise and round brown eyes. His lips are perfect. I sit there and stare, stunned. He’s absolutely gorgeous. 

“Is that better?” he asks, grabbing the little machine again. He pulls something else out of a drawer, but I don’t know what it is. I’m watching his hair swish as he turns. 

“You’ve got…no idea.” I smile at him and watch him come over with a small needle.

“I’m gonna have to draw some blood.” He squats down in front of me again, holding his hand out for my cuffed arms. I’m just looking at him. I want to kiss him so bad. I don’t. He takes one of my hands and stretches my middle fingers out. The needle pricks for only a second, then a drop of red causes a stream down my fingerprint. He lets it drop onto the end of the machine and sets it down to read. I wipe my hand on my pants and hope I don’t bleed for too long. He gets up and returns with a bandage. I let him put it on me. The feel of his hands working on mine makes me blush.

“I can see it, you know,” he says, looking back at me. I finally look right into his eyes. He looks tired, like he’s always fighting something. Makes sense, but it’s softer than I expected. He’s worn.

“See what?” I ask. Neither of us has broken the eye contact. He doesn’t answer. He’s just staring, looking over my eyes like he’s contemplating.

“Kylo?” He pulls me toward him with a hand on the side of my jaw, locking his lips with mine. My body leans in, melting into the contact. I bring my tied together hands to his chin, his jaw, his throat, holding something as I deepen the kiss. My lips lay carefully between his. I suck softly before pulling back to see his face. He picks up the machine before I can see his reaction. He turns, and for the first time I see him smile. His teeth are big and crooked. It makes me grin, too.

“What?” I ask. He looks at the machine a moment and puts it back down again.

“You’re force sensitive. I have a theory that we're bonded.”

“Bonded?”

“Sometimes, the Force will choose to connect two individuals' thoughts, feelings…I think our intimate moment might’ve unlocked ours.” He’s looking over my eyes. I get the sense he’s been waiting for this. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means I don’t have to look to find the map. I’ll find out. I just have to wait for it to cross your mind.” And as soon as he mentioned it, it was hard. I kept seeing Poe, the droid. It made me think about saying goodbye to him when he left to fight. Kylo still looked pleased, but his face changed into something else, something more understanding.

“The boy from the ship, he was the man I saw you with.” I just nodded. I know he will know now. I can feel an excitement brewing within him.

“And he was a decoy,” he says, lifting a comm on his wrist up to his mouth, “The map is in an orange and white BB8 unit. It fled Jakku as soon as we arrived. It could still be there.” He gives me a kiss again, this one faster, and I don’t move.

“Thank you,” he says, “But I’m afraid you won’t be leaving anytime soon. This isn’t something to waste.” He grabs both of my hands, but I just look at the wall.

[justtryingtolosesomeweight]

I have been trying to vent the past two days but my laptop crashed and my arm hurt so fucking bad last night I had to stop. I have chalked it up to that I spend too much time writing and I should cut it down to half an hour. Sounds like a lot but it really isn’t for me since all I have is time to waste complaining. I’m sure those thoughts I wanted to express will show up again another time.

I have pushed off my homework again... I’m acting like a fool. He even offered half credit if I did it yesterday and I thought about it until 3 a.m. where I had to give up to go to bed. But that was a conscious decision because it was just too addicting to listen to music and think all day. There must be something wrong with me. I’m always like this regardless of whether I eat enough so maybe it’s my best interest to talk to someone. Ah, but I don’t want to talk to anyone unless I’m thinner than this. Maybe at 145 I’ll reward myself by making an appointment with a counselor. Or whenever I gain the confidence.

I want to talk forever but my wrist is fucking flimsy. That I should really see someone for. It just hurts, I’m sure it’s some preventable thing but every time I want to write or draw it acts up. Maybe it wouldn’t be so if I learned to shut up once in a while. I see other vent blogs and most posts are a sentence or two. Mine are quite the opposite. I hope that I learn to quiet down soon because that means I’m spending less time just writing instead of doing something useful. Not that I do anything useful though. At any rate, I have such long posts. It makes me wonder what’s going through the head of someone who has a vent blog but often just posts “I want to die.” or “I ate this. I feel awful.” Come on, everyone, be like me and overshare on the internet. Lol. That’s not really safe all of the time so keep your brevity. Me, I never talk much of anything that’s important.

Ah, my head is aching a little, had an awful time sleeping. I didn’t even take my magnesium even though I keep it right next to my bed. Last night’s thinking session was intense. I couldn’t focus on anything else. It’s not good, it’s really just a waste of time but I think if I spin it as “if I don’t lose weight fast, none of this will happen” I’ll feel a lot better. Sorry, school, under eating takes priority as my one passion. Anyone else daydream but only imagine themselves as skinny? I mean, I know what I look like but it doesn’t show up. Although I see myself through my own eyes so when I look down I see flatness. Definitely not my reality.

Only fifteen more minutes of talking remain. What did I want to say? I guess not much. Limiting myself seems to be saving my wrist. Will I have the energy to do my homework. Probably not. I want to say maybe if I lose like twenty pounds in this month and the next they might catch on but who knows? Most people tend to be kind when grading me since I do kind of be a mess every day.  I wonder what it feels like to wear one layer and be confident. I wonder what it’s like to not hunch over and feel ashamed for existing in public. So maybe my head hurts but it’s not like it won’t be worth it. Let’s see about that though. Approaching the end of week 1. I feel alright about proceeding. Must not give into the same temptations I face every day. Honestly, I’m overthinking this. It’s easy if you don’t think about it.

I want to apologize for being long but instead I think I’ll just add a note in my pinned that I will never not write a long ass post. Forgive me if you came to suffer in a moderate amount of words. Or I could make a personal tag... something unique so it doesn’t show up when you look up vent or something. One minute left... what’s a good tag? Hmm. Well, you’ll see when I figure one out. You know, I’ve really been into Neru’s Abstract Nonsense and I think it would be very funny of me to have a long ass tag.

[deathbymas0chist]

Hey hey! Wondering if I could get a brat tamer Vil schoenheit with a very bratty fem MC? I can see the punishments spanning with something like taking a quiz about beauty products but each question she gets wrong they get paddled/ spanked, have an amazing day!!

༒ 𝖛𝖎𝖑 𝖘.

༒ Summary: you decided to be a brat, testing vil by ruining one of his expensive makeup products, so he teaches you the importance of looking your best by testing you on makeup products.

༒ A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to answer! I’ve been busy with a lot of things so I haven’t had the energy to write but I hope I can get back to it more this week! I love vil so much and this ask rlly felt like it was accurate to his character, but I made him a bit soft at the end bcs I love soft aftercare sm <3 I hope I did this well and that you enjoy!

༒Word count: 1.6k.

༒Content warning: Fem! Reader , spanking , degradation , dumbification , mean dom! Vil , edging , brat taming , let me know what I missed!

“Does my pretty baby not know the answer to this question?” The condescension laced in his words was dripping with venom, along with a scowl on his face, ruining his usually collected demeanor. He raised his gloved hand, holding a purple paddle, bringing it down swiftly. He couldn’t afford to bruise his delicate hands by trying to teach you a much needed, valuable lesson. 

This all started because you were being a whiny brat, complaining that Vil was paying more attention to his “stupid, fake makeup” rather than you. At first, Vil was uninterested in your incessant tantrum, choosing to ignore you until you gave up and got tired, but you decided to really push it today.

Picking up one of his expensive concealers, one that got sent to him by a very popular makeup brand, you opened it carefully, before pouring more than half its contents out, right in front of Vil. He had been used to your irritating tantrums before, but this really had done it for him, especially since he had a photo shoot to attend in less than twenty minutes.

The rest of the events leading up to this current situation had been blurry. Hours later, you found yourself laid down across his lap, ass up, with your tear stained face, and bruises decorating your delicate skin. you could hardly think past what had happened after that point because of Vil's ruthless blows on your ass that kept your mind numb and legs shaking. 

“I’ll ask you again, one more time. What is the purpose of this product.” The sound of his voice brought you out of your daze, as he demanded an answer out of you. He had stopped asking questions a long time ago, after realizing you couldn’t even process a simple question such as “why are cleansers important for your skin?” The answer was right in front of you, were you that much of a stupid slut? You couldn’t even comprehend that it cleans your skin, as the name suggested? 

ou could only babble incoherently, your eyes glassy from the tears. You could only hope that he took pity on you and spared you from the pain, but his eyes only got harder. “I should have expected nothing less than you being this empty-headed, after all only someone like you wouldn’t manage to realize the importance of maintaining one’s beauty.” 

Sighing in disappointment, he raised the paddle once more, before bringing it down harshly.You let out a loud sob, pleading with him to have mercy. “I-I do realize the im…importance o-of maintaining beauty though! I j-jus’ thought you didn’t need it cus’ you’re already pretty..!” You let out a sniffled sob, begging for his forgiveness. 

But your words only fell on deaf ears, as he continued to ignore your begging. “You know you wouldn’t have even been in this situation if you behaved and had some patience. Your thoughtless flattatery has no effect on me, I know what you're trying to do and it’s not working. Now, I have to be the one to teach you some proper manners before you decide to act up like this again.” He sharply said as he continued to add to your collection of bruises. 

”M-m’ sorry! I won’t do it again! I promise- I won’t touch your makeup a-again, I- I mean it!” He knows you're bluffing, you do too. It’s always been like this. You keep making false promises, never following through with them, but Vil always seemed to let you go. Maybe it was the fact he liked to teach you these lessons over and over again, or just seeing you crumble like this under him, that kept him allowing you to continue with this behavior. 

He rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore your words once more. Continuing on with your punishment, Vil moved on to the next question, as you were clearly unable to answer the question you were currently on. His eyes glinted maliciously, as he asked “What was the price of that concealer that you decided to waste?” He knew the answer, It was close to 700 dollars. He was a very high-end model after all, only the best was fit for him. But you on the other hand, couldn't possibly fathom the idea of something that expensive was made to be worn. 

To his surprise though, you shouted out “680!” It was the exact amount. Did you know how expensive that makeup was, but you still purposefully decided to destroy it? Why? A lot of questions were going on through Vil’s mind, but he decided to push those thoughts away. After all, you actually did manage to get the question right. 

He softly smiled as he spoke “Ah, i'm glad you're aware of how expensive that product was, after all you were the one who decided that it wasn't worth much after you destroyed it. But nevertheless, you still got the question right, so I guess you deserve something good from this.” He was still very upset with what you did, but he decided to give you some sort of break, after all you had been trying to answer his questions, even though you were brainless. 

He slipped off his leather gloves, finally deciding he was going to touch you. He wanted to feel you properly whenever he did these kinds of things. He brought his fingers up to your slit, softly playing with your folds as you moaned in contempt at his touch. Taking his time with you, he slowly slid his thumb to the button of your clit, he started to rub slow circles into it, you were writing under his touch, and he hasn't even put anything in you yet. 

Your thighs began to tense up around him, as your cries got louder and your body began to shake. It was like you lost yourself in the pleasure as your body reached its high rather quickly and unexpectedly. 

Vil took his hand away from you, looking at the mess you made on his intricate fingers. With the disappointment back on his face once again. “And just when I thought you finally had a shred of self control… Guess I really can’t expect anything from you. I think you need to be taught another lesson.” He shook his head as he exhaled another sigh of disappointment, before lifting up the paddle, and starting his new lesson. 

He flipped you over, and made you straddle his lap, and gripping your jaws between his fingers he looked directly into your eyes. You could see the passion between his light violet irises, and it made you shiver anxiously. He never broke eye contact, watching you intently as he pulled out his hard cock from his tight confinements. Slowly sliding the tip of his pretty pink head across your slit, and you let out a breathy moan at his teasing. He pushed the tip in after playing with you for a while longer, your wetness immediately welcoming him in. 

He gripped your waist tightly in his hands, lifting you up and pulling you back down, making you ride him while he offered you not even so much as a single thrust. He wanted to make you do all the work, making you earn what you wanted. You had been getting lost in the pleasure once more, with your mind even more dizzy. It was hard trying to chase after your own release without Vil’s help, but with his soft hands guiding you, you could manage. 

You leaned into his neck, softly moaning into his ears, you were so tired, you just wanted to be taken care of. Soon enough, after you had put all of your effort into reaching your high, you felt yourself start to build up, tethering on the edge. Your core was tightening, about to snap, when you felt Vil’s grip on your waist tighten, pulling you off of him before you got the chance to properly ride out your orgasm. 

You whined loudly in response, Vil could only chuckle at your cute whines. “Does my pretty girl want more?” There he was, with that fake concern in his voice once more. “Well too bad, because I told you that pretty girls need to learn self control” His words made fat tears start falling from your eyes as you cried out of frustration. He could only wipe them, softly brushing his thumbs across your wet cheeks, giving you a soft kiss afterwards.

A few hours later, vil had cleaned you up and you both were in bed. You had been  carefully laying on your stomach, and Vil was applying all sorts of his lavish, elegant oils and lotions on your sore and bruised body. “Was I too rough on you, my love? I hope I didn’t hurt you too much,” he whispered as he leaned over your shoulder and planted a soft kiss on your temple, as his fingers continued to knead your soft skin and release the tension in your muscles. Times like this where Vil was soft after a rough session was your favorite, he always made you feel like you were royalty as he pampered you and got you anything you asked for

“M’fine jus’ a lil’ sore,” you replied softly, still exhausted from your previous session with him. You were lulled to sleep soon after with how Vil’s fingers were moving against your skin. He smiled in content at your relaxed face, knowing you faced the consequences of your actions and thoroughly paid the price, both figuratively and literally because the the money of the broken makeup had been charged to your bank account and you were now almost 700 dollars more poor.

[trashlie]

Bee’s Age and Cardamon’s Origins

I never got around to writing all of my Bee and Puppycat thoughts before the new series dropped and I’m definitely annoyed with myself for it but OH WELL! 

I’ll go ahead and put a cut because I have some rambling musing about the 3 new episodes, so I’ll mar them for spoilers for those who can’t/haven’t watched (lol it’s only day 1 so) 

I know a lot of people have their gripes with the way the 3 new espidoes/s1 recap were done but I think a lot of that is probably on Netflix. If they’d given them 5 episodes to recap everything and better flesh it out, those 3 episodes would feel far less rushed than they do. But that’s not the fault of the writing as much as Netflix being continuously abysmal in general but especially to animators. Those episodes take SO LONG to create and having to cram everything into three episodes? So hard!

But I appreciate the newly added lore SO MUCH. I’ve always suspected Bee is a LOT older than we think - much like Puppycat. The fact that the arcade was so overgrown and had a WHOLE ENTIRE TREE growing inside of it was a pretty big indicator that Bee hadn’t been there in a LONG ass time. But the new episodes REALLY play into this, with people referring to Bee as “old young lady” or whatever, and Bee’s remark about the forest growing denser every time she comes through - which means not frequently at ALL because the rate at which trees grow is NOT fast lol. She herself even refers to herself as REALLY OLD, as if she doesn’t actually want to come outright and admit it - as cavalier as she is about some of her more robot-y aspects in these eps, she is also really hesitant to outright admit it. 

(Likewise, Puppycat is OLD old, too, it would seem, he was already pretty grown when BEE’S DAD was a TODDLER. And then we now know he was already in his Puppycat form babysitting little Bee?! If Bee is OLD, Puppycat is ANCIENT.) 

I also loved the update to Bee and the candy - the casual mention of how she and Cardamon have shared it before?! The way the energy burst forth when she broke it in half like when her dad smashed it?! AAAAHHHHHHHH love that and how it ties those threads together - in og s1, nothing happens when she eats the candy and she shares it with Puppycat, so while it made sense that they were the same candy and that it may even help “power” her, it was hard to confirm, but now it’s very in our face and connects to s2 so much better. I know there’s been theories that Cardamon is not fully human, too - as far as we know, there’s no father around - but they are a little bolder about it this time around. Previously we didn’t find out Cardamon is supposed to be asleep until during Lazy in Space but Bee just! Up and goes oh you’re up what about your mom? 

?!?!?! 

So Bee knows they’re SUPPOSED to be asleep? Or?! 

I will say because of how much they had to rush the s1 content there’s some things that still come across as confusing - or more confusing. Bee seems so cavalier about Cardamon’s mom - was everyone just.... content to be like “yeah the landlord and her child are just hibernating nbd” and also hOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN ASLEEP LIKE THAT, THEN?! Is that why everyone is behind on rent? 

Another thought I’ve had and hadn’t had a chance to write up is: in the apartment complex, Violet and Bee’s dad are clearly related by their history as Candy Chasers, and Puppycat has babysat Bee and was close to Violet and Bee’s dad. The Wizards.... like I’ve always thought it interesting that the Space King sent his warlocks after Puppycat and now they live in the same apartment complex as Wizards. I’ve always felt there may be more to them than the show lends us - they’re not just a family Bee is supposed to watch over, right? I mean like, narratively, what is their purpose? I don’t think they are with the warlocks (at least, not the kids) and Cas was always calling things weird so if their parents dipped out to space I feel like that would be weird, right? I don’t have a coherent thought about this, clearly, but it’s like HUH surely they tie into this more than being innocent bystanders? 

idk I have other thoughts but I have to rewatch things but I wanted to throw these ones out before I forget about them afljafkajf