#I've been drawing them nonstop for the past 4 days help

[lewikdraws]

I am not immune to goro takemura 😔

[5eraphim]

may i please have something with spy and his s/o who has stockholm syndrome and has been broken down enough that they feel the need to always be touching him? treating him as a king! constantly kissing any spot on him, wanting to leave marks on spy so people know hes claimed, nonstop praising him and stroking his ego, maybe s/o wants to scent mark him ♡ thank you!!

I love you so much right now. I am sending a psychic beam of pure love and kisses directly into your skull. This is just,,, exactly the kind of request I've been waiting for (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ I'm not 100% sure if you wanted a oneshot or headcanons, but for purely selfish reasons, I'm answering with a oneshot <3 hope you enjoy!

Summary: Cuddling with Spy at night, and feeling a perfect kind of bliss from the knowledge you two are exactly where you're meant to be.

Character: Spy 🐍 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: M (MINORS DNI)

Content Warnings: yandere, mind break, Stockholm Syndrome, servant/master dynamics, denial/edging, sexual massage, possessive behavior

Word Count: 2.8k

TIP JAR

MASTER LIST

(Song Inspo: Chapel, Nicole Dollanganger)

"I was reading my destiny inside your eyes without knowing it." Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

LAST EDITED- 4/18/2023

Earlier that day, you welcomed your beloved home. Unfortunately, much later than usual, apparently preoccupied with some kind of inescapable work issue. By the time he returned home, the full moon had illuminated the inky-black sky, and a pleasant evening chill settled motionless all around, ending the sun's humid, suffocating summer heat for the day. Crickets chirped in the long grass surrounding the small cabin you and your lover shared, surrounded by the forest and far away from any prying eyes. When you heard the screen door creak open, Spy entered, quietly locking the door behind him, stepping out of his dress shoes and neatly tucking them beside it. Greeting him with a kiss and helping him to slip out of his work clothes, you welcomed him home. Taking note to be extra soft and loving, seeing how thoroughly exhausted he appeared.

Sharing a cup of tea together was a long-standing ritual between the two of you. It was your job to brew and serve the tea while Spy waited patiently. You remembered how pleased Spy looked the first time you managed to prepare the tea exactly to suit his tastes. And how proud you felt, knowing you were likely one of the only people he trusted enough to accept food from. Spy liked to sip his drink while unwinding from his long day, while you would sit and keep him company. Sometimes with chatter, other times quiet and content enough to enjoy a little time together.

Tonight Spy requested you to draw him a bath during the late-night chat, a task you accepted most graciously. He was always so generous to share the tub with you, so long as you would help wash. Or, as he liked to say, "Earn your spot beside him."

While you didn't remember much of life before you met Spy, you did recall the first time he offered to share the bath with you. Long past when he first brought you here to live, and by that point, your resilience began to break down, and it was harder and harder to ignore how badly you wanted to give in and accept his affections. You weren't trying to escape or harm him anymore, no longer because of threat or punishment, but rather an unexplainable yearning for Spy. It wasn't love, not yet, but a means to quell the discontentment you couldn't shake apart from Spy; he completed you.

Your body settled between his long legs, your back to his chest. This was the first time you saw him naked, and it felt bizarrely enticing when he told you how he wanted to see you the same way. The water felt so warm, and you could've melted right there as he used his bare hands to glide soap and suds over your wet skin, covering your body with bubbles and warm water. And for the first time, you didn't shy away from his touch when his fingertips skimmed your thighs and lingered so lightly at your chest, his fingers growing bolder. You allowed your head to lull back and lean against Spy's body, your eyes fluttering shut. Moaning breathily under his touch. Spy hummed as he continued to work, caressing every inch of your body, comforted by the feeling of your body completely relaxed against his. For the first time, you allowed yourself to let your guard down. And by God, did it feel good.

It all felt so long ago, though living in isolation made keeping up with time impossible. But you remember how nice it was to let yourself give in and begin to accept Spy's charms and sensuality. For a while, you tried to remain resilient and faithful to yourself, to only embrace him when sharing a bath, but once Spy caused this fracture in your defenses, he knew it was only a matter of time before you folded. No much longer did you bother lying to yourself. Pretending you didn't love the feeling of hot water washing over you, Spy's touch getting bolder when he could tell you were no longer trying to push him away. He told you how proud he was to see you at ease like this, how he knew you'd be much more comfortable after you'd removed your layers of clothing and gave him a chance. How now it made sense why you were always so high-strung and wound up under all those clothes, you were far better off living this. His voice and hands were hypnotic, pulling you deeper and deeper into this new peaceful state of mind. You didn't even protest when he pulled you into his bed that night.

Tonight went quite similar. By now, you were far more used to taking Spy's orders and were responsible for stripping down yourself and helping undress him, folding the clothes neatly on the countertop before you were allowed to enter the bath. He referred you to lay between his legs, being so kind to help wash you before himself, knowing this was your favorite spot. The motions are familiar but in a comforting way. The feeling of a trusted routine to help unwind at the end of such a taxing day.

Neither of you dressed after the bath, deciding to dry off and hop into bed. All the lights were off, but you could still see around the bedroom clearly enough with the moon's light shining into the bedroom. You tried to fall asleep, but feeling restless, you couldn't quite find sleep. Instead, your mind wandered to the sensation of your beloved Spy curled beside you in bed. Spy always looked so beautiful when he was asleep, his face relaxed, breathing so gentle, he looked like a living marble Adonis. Nothing less than perfection in your eyes. He slept on his back while you were curled up on your side facing him, head resting on his chest.

You nuzzled your head into his chest, snuggling a little closer. The feeling of Spy's hand gently stroking your head gave you a small jolt of surprise, as you thought Spy was already asleep. "You're awake?"

His eyes were still shut when he answered. "You've been fidgeting beside me all night. No one could sleep through that." You bit your lip nervously, feeling a light stab of guilt for this. "I'm so sorry about that. I didn't even realize."

Spy leaned down to kiss your head, " You're alright, but I wonder, were you trying to get my attention? Is there something you want from me now that it's so late at night?"

You flushed a little, "No, it was an accident! I'm just- I mean, I'm sorry I woke you up."

Spy cracked the eye oven looking down on you. "How about a back rub to make up for it, then? You've always been so good at those." You couldn't help but feel bubbly inside from his praise, and with a quiet "yes sir," you climbed up over him. Spy rolling onto his stomach now, arms under the pillow he rested his head on while you straddled his lower back.

As gently as you could, you ran your hands over the skin on his back, initiating the skin-to-skin contact delicately, still unable to shake your initial guilt for waking him up in the first place. His body felt so soft and clean after the bath. His back accumulated tremendous scar tissue over the years, and your heart ached to think about Spy away on his own where you couldn't protect him. The pain was all the worse as you knew, deep down, this was how it had to be. You wished you had some kind of magic touch to heal the scars for good or to take on the wounds yourself. Unfortunately, the best you could do now was run your soothing touch over the blemished area. Though you'd never admit this to him, you always thought Spy's scar tissue was sexy, making his already charming physique even more alluring.

Using steady, well-practiced hands, you began to apply more pressure to the massage, knowing where he usually held tension and where to target to have him moaning and sighing in relief. Starting high, around his shoulder blades, before moving your hands up and down his body, leaving no area untended. Your fingers work hard to draw out his tension and ease his pain. In the low light, you could see Spy relaxing into your touch a little more, and you felt an erotic jolt of excitement as you heard him beginning to let off gentle, breathy moans as you worked.

Your eyes drift shut when you feel his hand against your outer thigh. The light touch against your upper leg was innocent enough, but you were aroused all the same, moaning through clenched teeth, tensing up. You were caught off-guard and felt goosebumps prickling across your arms and legs. But you didn't take this as your cue to stop. Instead, you began to massage him deeper, moving with more force but remaining as slow and sensual as possible. Thumbs digging into the tissue of his lower back, fingers rubbing little circles, occasionally using your palms and knuckles to grind even harder.

You didn't even realize how far your mind had drifted when you felt his fingernails brushing against your thigh. Then, when you felt his hand stroke higher than expected, you flinched inward, hissing sharply. It wasn't until after you discovered when you curled your hands into tight fists in shock did you realize you accidentally scratched your nails against his skin. Leaving a few puffy scratches over his shoulder blades where your hands were. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry- it was an accident!"

It was impossible to stop your hands from shaking as you pulled them into your chest in shame upon a braising Spy's precious skin. It wasn't much of an abrasion, just a few red stretch marks along his back, the longest of which was about the length of a pinky finger, with a few tiny beads of blood. Still, you felt awful for what you'd done all the same. You were about to climb down and fetch the first aid kit from the bathroom when before you could move, you heard Spy's voice. "Did you draw blood?" He didn't sound mad, rather neutral, actually, but you were wracked with guilt all the same.

"I did; I'm so sorry! Let me get you patched up."

"No, I want you to lick it up."

His words stopped you dead in your tracks. "Is he being serious?" you wondered, and for a moment, you felt frozen in place, unable to decide if he seriously wanted you to do what you were told or if he was being sarcastic. Though this didn't last long, he tilted his head back a little. From his position lying on his stomach on the bed, he could only move so much, but in the low lighting in the room, you could swear you could just barely catch the light of the moon in his eyes.

"Go on, do as you're told, and clean up your mess."

You were genuinely comforted to see he wasn't upset with you, though it didn't entirely absolve you of the guilt of your actions. If this was what he wanted, it was your job to deliver. You planted both hands on the bed as you scooted down to lay above him on your elbows. Now your head was just over the tiny wound, and even up close, you could see the scratch wasn't anything worse than a cat's scratch, and if you were honest, there was a chilling excitement you felt. Something about being ordered to kiss the wound felt so intimate. Your eyes closed as you leaned down closer, your tongue rolling out just enough to swipe up the tiny beads of blood before returning to your mouth. You felt the taste of copper follow the blood into your mouth, lingering for just a second as you swallowed the warm substance. Feeling bolder, you lightly kissed the sensitive area you'd left a scar, but it wasn't enough. You wanted more, to caress his flesh with your lips, kissing your love tenderly to show your reverence. Spy shifted a little under you, rolling from his stomach to his side as you moved to accommodate him.

He hummed softly to himself constantly as you kissed your way from his shoulder blades to the side of his neck. You could feel his pulse below your mouth, all too aware of how he clearly enjoyed feeling your lips against the thin, sensitive flesh. He used a gentle but firm hand to cup the side of your face, guiding your lips to meet his as you sighed into the kiss.

It wasn't long before his tongue was in your mouth, and you were back on top, the two of you moving as one as he rolled to his back, you taking this as an invitation to go back to straddling his torso. The kiss felt so passionate and sensual, and you could not stop yourself from lightly grinding your lower body against his, desperate for any friction between your legs. You moaned into the kiss when you felt his fingertips feeling up the sides of your body. You wanted desperately to move his hands from the sides of your hips to between, but you also didn't want the pleasant shivers his touch brought about to stop. It was impossible to hold yourself back. Spy deepened the kiss, lips sliding against your own as you returned the affection. His touch, gentler than yours, had you feeling so hot, bothered, and almost painfully wet. Your hands worked through his hair, winding it around your fingers, pulling slightly as he teased your body, but just as you were about to start rolling your hips, Spy pulled away, removing his fingers from your body. Spy looked up at your confused expression with a coy grin.

"It's getting late. Why do we settle down for the night?"

"Can't we go a little longer?"

"Maybe tomorrow night."

Your head dropped in disappointment. "Please, just a minute longer, I- God Spy, I'm so wet, I need you so bad it hurts!"

Your pain only amused the man as he chuckled softly, his hand smoothing back your hair, "If you love me, you'll do as you're told." It hurt, but he was right, as usual, and with a half-hearted "yes sir," you peeled away from him, moving to lay on your side facing him. While Spy didn't move from his back, waiting for you to cuddle up closer, no doubt feeling your body trembling with the effort it took to remain still.

"You're being good for me, right? You aren't touching yourself, are you?"

Shaking your head, no, Spy pulled you a little closer to him. Kissing the top of your head while you lay against his lithe body. "Very good. Your hands are only to serve me, not yourself."

This man was a sadist, wrapping himself tightly around you while speaking in that low-breathy murmur that gave you chills, feeling his warm breath fanning your overheated body and skin. It drove you mad in the best way imaginable.

You could swear you felt sweat begin to bead along your back with the effort it took to obey his command. Feeling his warm skin against yours, the softness of the blankets, his natural aroma overwhelming your mind, not to mention the already uncomfortable burning felt between your legs, you wanted so badly to climb back over him and relieve the awful tension, but you wouldn't dare. Spy's approval and praise meant the world to you, and disobeying him to satisfy your carnal desires would be unthinkable. Spy's breathing began to deepen and slow, and you felt his arm around your shoulders starting to slacken as he drifted off to sleep. And you took great comfort in knowing you were about to settle down for the night, sleeping in the embrace of your reason for living.

Perhaps your beloved Spy was no longer a person to you, and your love for him transformed him into something beyond human. Now he was the light of your life, the only one who made you feel alive. As you felt his arms wrapped around your body, his warm body curled up behind you, his body heat warming you and the bed's blankets, the heat making you want to nestle up even closer, to feel every inch of your beloved's perfect body wrapped around yours, as protective of you as you were to him. And with God as your witness, you swore, you would protect him until the day you died.

[shirefantasies]

I have only asked for one matchup in the past like 8 years of imagine blog requesting but I figured hey, why not? I've been reading your blog nonstop for like 2 weeks, lol! Lets see, I'm about 5ft 4 with a bob of ringlets and a round, even, bespectacled face. I'm pretty curvy and perhaps on the heavier side but I've got a lot more strength to my frame than most give me credit for! In the day to day folks look at me and think I'm a 100% cerebral kind of person and for the most part they'd be right, at least when I was younger. I used to be the ultimate shut-in for the simple fact that I suffer from a family curse on my father's side- when we aren't learning we feel like we're *fucking dieing*(i didn't make tht up it's the family running joke!). These days I'm much more outgoing; I play DnD in 2 groups, have tons of online friends I talk to regularly, I've got a routine of 'sister night's where me and my sister paint together, I sing in a chorus, and I've got study sessions with my mentor going too- so I'm kinda a former-antisocial-dork-turned-deliberate-part-of-their-communities kinda chick. I feel like if i was dropped in middle earth I'd wanna try and build a printing press, my first degree was in graphic design so I know a ton about all the different kinds, I'd love to share! After all, what's the point of learning if you don't use your information to *help* people? Guess I'd be a scribe if I was born there tho. I skew towards liking the hobbit characters more than LOTR, but I'm up for anyone that's in both, too. Congrats on 300, you deserve it!!

Thank you so much for your support and heck yeah, *you* deserve the treat of a matchup too 😘 I’m so glad you said that about the hobbit characters because I definitely had someone in mind for you…

Dear Ori!

Ori finds out someone is causing quite a stir with a new invention, so of course he has to see what all the fuss is about! Something about a revolution amongst his world of scribes happening right at the foot of his home down in Dale. Making his way down to the study named, he musters up the courage to knock on the door. Coming to call unannounced isn't exactly the most polite behavior, he knows, but then again this inventor must be having a lot of that these days. He isn't expecting to see a cute young woman open the door, though, and his first thought is one hoping you aren't just the inventor's wife opening the door for them.

You are not. The moment Ori shyly greets you, asking if it's true what the scribes are saying about an exciting new device, your eyes light up and you usher him in. Inside your home is a bit messy, but the comforting sort of messy where charming china sits out atop tables, game boards at their sides, papers are strewn about with notes and diagrams and drawings Ori wishes he could see better. A potted plant sits in one corner with an unfinished sketch of its likeness on the adjacent shelf. A fire is fighting its best to stay lit behind an elaborately styled metal gate, no doubt to keep it that much further from all the paper. All in all, Ori thinks to himself that this is somewhere he could live. As you begin taking him across the room to a door, you animatedly discuss your many trials and errors before you reveal your masterpiece. A great structure with some sort of metal rod and a bunch of blocks? Printing press, you call it. You had blocks for each letter, the rod pulled down to press the ink down... "Now we can save some time if we need a lot of copies! What do you think?" You stood there with your head expectantly tilted, hands clasped in front of you. "They say Thorin or Bard might like something like this for decrees, but as a fellow scribe do you see a future with this?"

Gaping at your smarts and flushing at the faint flutter of your eyelashes, Ori nods. "This is the most amazing thing I've ever seen, and I fought a dragon." "You...fought a dragon?" It is your turn to gape as you peer at the dwarf with new interest. "Threatened to show him dwarvish iron where the sun don't shine," he replied with a proud smile, arms crossed, "but you know, in the end Mr. Bard got 'im. We all showed him what for, though! This tops that by a long shot, though- how'd you think of this?" Kettle on first, hours of discussion later. Soon it was near nightfall and Ori was apologizing profusely and you were waving it off, asking him for promise of a return with the sketches he mentioned.

A whole new page of sketches gets dedicated to figures with bobs of lovely curls, gorgeous curves that have Ori blushing, smiles upon a round, cheery face and spectacles never fully betraying the eyes' secrets. Whole hours of Ori’s day get dedicated to carving blocks for your press and trying them out with you and feeling his heart flip at the way you take his hands and leap in celebration. He can listen to you talk, whether it’s explaining your invention process or the instructions of the game you’re teaching him or even simply sharing some random animal facts from the latest book you picked up, all day, he thinks. And then one day as he’s leaving you press a kiss to his cheek and that’s it.

Flowers and a new book are thrust into your hand the moment you open the door, Ori standing before you telling you how much he likes you and can���t stop thinking about you and you positively must interrupt him to tell him he’s been like home to you or else he’ll keep going, the poor dear. He wants to take you out that day, walk you around proudly and savor the feeling of your hand in his as he shows you off.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

[autisticempathydaemon]

For the RedactedAudio match-ups!

I pondered over whether I should send my own request (I'm sure you have plenty of these already and I didn't want to add more to the workload- for a lack of a better word) but I love the love and care you give for previous entries and it just seems so fun to play along! Please take all the time you need, there's no rush at all ><

Lizzy McAlpine's "Doomsday" has been playing nonstop for the past month, but I've always been obsessed with Will Wood's "Well, Better Than the Alternative"! My fav part of the lyrics: "Baby could you play along with me? / Baby would that be alright with you? / And when we find out what's wrong with me / Could you tell me how I'm right for you?" This is the kind of song suitable for both lighthearted jamming and brooding self-reflection while staring at the ceiling at ungodly hours, yknow?

For the Enneagram type, I just did the test recently and I got type 4? I found the descriptor "Inward Exlorer" extremely suiting! Also, in case it helps, my MBTI is INFJ^^

I had several childhood friends, the one I talked to the most was a faceless boy my age with glasses and messy hair who's crazy about the concept of martyrdom. I'm trying to write him into my story these days!

I happen to adore my name for the meaning behind it. My initials are literally A.R.T., and, fun fact, I'm currently the only person with my last name in my region, haha. But yknow, names carry weight to them, and I find the weight of mine a bit cumbersome at times, so that might be a cause for change somewhere far in the future. Maybe changing it to Ara, or Nadine? Because the meanings are so pretty ^^

My current fav audio vid is the "finally hearing from your your long distance lover again"! What can I say? Anton is my beloved and he gives off so much comfort and I root (haha get it) for his happiness!

Speaking of platonic attraction, it's gotta be Hux and Damien. As a college student myself, how wonderful it would be to have them with me to go through endless study sessions and just to hang out? If I get to write fate beforehand, I'd have them and Camelopardalis be my childhood friends. Imagine that!

I don't exactly have a gas station drink combo(?) but I always order carrot-orange juice if I see it on the menu. My siblings look at me weird whenever I do, but it's really good!

Uh, what else is there... I've been told I'm the older sister type, or the mom friend? I grow tomatoes and bird eye chillies alongside roses of various colors on my family's front yard, and one of my life ambitions is to own a house with big enough land to grow fruit trees- I solemnly swore to my mom and her mom that I'd plant lemon and orange trees if I could make that happen, because they love the smell of citrus. I write; mostly short stories, and I've published a number of anthologies, but I'm working on finishing the first draft for my first novel.

Oh goodness this is becoming so long already. Thank you for taking your time to read this! I'm looking forward for your verdict, haha ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Ooh, this was an incredibly easy one to assign! There’s a lot of little and big factors that went into my decision, but the kicker is that a big, lovely family home wouldn’t be complete without a David Shaw to help take care of it.

Type Fours and INFJ’s are so lovely and creative, generally very attuned to their inner sphere of thoughts and emotions. I think that pairs well with David, who went through the character development of needing that openness to draw him out into the open, honest, affectionate man he is today. Your being the mom friend also pairs well since he’s the dad friend, and the two of you could lend each other support in case you neglect your needs in favor of others.

Speaking of “mom and dad”, I love to think of the huge, beautiful house and garden the two of you would cultivate! It’d be so homey and comfortable, the perfect place for pack parties, the sort of space where every member knows they’re welcome. Not to mention, those fruit trees would be the envy of Dahlia; you and David would make sure of it. Those would be the most bountiful trees and most beautiful garden you could ever imagine.

Song:

Oh, let's get rich and buy our parents/ Homes in the South of France/ Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters/ And teach them how to dance/ Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain/ Making everybody look like ants/ From way up there, you and I, you and I

I love the vibes of this song for you guys! Even if it’s not what I think his music taste would be (dad rock), it’s sweet, it’s fun, it’s cozy. It’s perfect summer day, laying in the grass and dandelions and roses music. It’s a duet that he would never think of not chiming in along with you.

Runner-Ups:

Lasko could also strike me as an INFJ, so I think the two of you would make this lovely, introverted pair. Plus, a writer and a professor- that’s objectively cute. Milo is also a good runner up, because frankly, that boy strikes me as a momma’s boy, so he would adore the way you talk about your mom and grandma. You also have that shared dream of owning a nice house and home, so there’s that too.

note: I like the cut of your jib- roses and tomatoes AND Birds Eye chilis? The best kind? You’ve got taste /gen

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[jaxhol]

People say I love you too soon

I haven't been up to too much recently. Well mostly. Nothing creatively. I've been out almost ever weekend, and every opportunity I've been given. I've made a few beats, and rapped a couple songs. I've barely draw, and stayed up finishing a project. Just kinda redoing things I made in the past. I learned how to use a cad software, and made the motel sign with that. I can still add to it, but I really haven't yet.

I wish I could recall every single things I've done since I last wrote, but that would take a while. I could go through pictures and tweets, and I might. But I've been taking less pictures, and on my phone less in general. So it might be harder than I think it would be. But It'd be nice to just have a list of everything so I never forget. I did get a (almost) girlfriend.

This girl I met on the first day, and I've kinda been pursuing since then. And we've been talking almost nonstop for exactly 4 weeks now. We've gone on a couple dates, and it's awesome. I haven't asked her to be my girlfriend yet, theres a couple reasons. But there's a semi formal dance next weekend, and I think I'm going to ask her to that. I've know about it since school started, and I've been spending the entire time trying to convince my friends to go. I've had to force them to do something event, because it's out of their comfort zone. But being uncomfy is how you grow. But i'm not even sure if I'll be able to go. My dad bought tickets to a Boyz II Men concert like late 2019, and it's been delayed a couple times because of covid and stuff. I don't know how many other opportunities there will be to go a concert like this. And I can always go to the dance next year. But it'll be a completely different thing every year. I also have a debate tournament earlier in the day. But that doesn't really interfere with anything.

Part of the reason I'm scared to ask Ash out is because I'm scared of commitment. Like every time I've committed to a relationship with someone, I've fallen straight on my ass. And I hate it. And the last one truly fucked me. Like I was genuinely depressed for like 2 months, I didn't want anything else other than to be happy. And It took me a while to find that in myself. But I eventually did. And I feel absolutely terrible about this but I've been trying with everything in me to not get attached, because I can't think this is gonna last forever. I know it wont. And I think the lack of commitment helps the relationship, because theres nothing keeping you there. I feel like having a title forces you to stay when things get bad. I realize that sounds like I want other people, but I don't. I want to stay exclusive to her, without the titles. Theres no requirement, It's all will. But that's not fair for her, if that's what she want, and I want to stay with her. I have to go for the titles. And thats a fair enough sacrifice.

I also question if I like her sometimes. That sounds like an automatic "I should drop it." But maybe this is like, and everything else I've felt has been lust. Like I'll beat off, and think "Man I don't want to have sex with her at all." And like post nut clarity really hits. Maybe that's what real love is. I've always thought the feeling I've felt going into a new relationship, where you want everything there is to do with that person, all you want to do is talk to them, you stay up till 4:00 on a school night just to finish your conversation. But that feeling wears off. It goes away, so maybe it's lust. Maybe it's that feeling of adventure, but once you figure everything out, once you get what you want, it's boring. But this one feels different starting out. It wont kill me to go all in

One thing I very strongly dislike about her is her friends, like its nothing about what they're into. It's just how they're into it. If that makes since, like it seems like they're trying to be edgy just because it's edgy. And nothing against that, I use to be like that, but they're very over the top about it. Some of her friends are cool, like 3 or so I'm cool with. But some of them are just weird. And I'm not hating, just saying they're not my kind of people. But she's not her friends, and I don't plan to be around all of them all of the time. They're into the same shit I am, and that's cool, but they express it differently than my forte. But thats fine, they doing them. I'm not gonna hate.

Me typing out "I use to be like that" is kinda sad. I loved that part of myself, (I'm listening to reborn, and typing that last sentence Kid Cudi said "time goes on" which is kinda cool.) but me being edgy and all "ooooooo upside down crosses, and goblins" is kinda gone, I don't find myself actively looking for that kinda thing anymore. I don't draw as much, but what I do draw is softer bubble letters of the same Skoen Nation, or WOLD logo, or song lyric. I was insanely happy and excited to do edgy shit, but that's not really what I'm doing anymore. Maybe I matured, but I was hoping it'd be a slower process. Maybe I can blame the break up, and the summer for teaching me to take things more serious. And I don't want to live in the past, but maybe I should start doing that kinda thing again. Like watching old Tyler interviews, cause that was the shit that I found cool, and awesome, and inspiring. Was the shit that I've always been told isn't cool. But I don't wanna force it, or get a stigma that's not really me. But I think that comes from forcing it.

Ehhh thinking about it, I don't know if I'm not doing creative things anymore. I think it's just different than what it's been in the past. Like I made these sick ass fucking Ambush glasses. Like I designed them and 3d printed them, I've been making a lot more beats recently (maybe that's because I finally figured out how to do it), I've been experimenting with outfits a little bit, taking pictures, making videos with Alex, everything. Maybe it has been less, but that's probably because school's a bitch. I still wanna make that magazine. That shits getting done one day. I kinda wanna get a nice camera to take good pictures and videos and stuff, but I've got my phone. I think I'm gonna start working closer to that.

Make a list of all the events and things you do/have done

Organize pictures and videos from those things

Locate and organize all your drawings, and continue to keep them together

Edit, and put together pictures and put them into a folder

All love, keep making shit