#art imposter syndrome talking basically

[bunibelles]

Finally finished art today but then I remember I have to glaze before posting :’D

[lemongogo]

hi

[mountainsandmayhem]

Tess's Treasures

18+, MDNI

Pairing: Tess x Joel x OC!Female x Female!Reader Summary: After perfecting the art of pickpocketing, you’re invited to join Tess’s Treasures. They’re infamous around the QZ and the initiation process is not what you expect, but exactly what you need. CW: If you’re not into foursomes/bi girl shit then you are in the wrong place. MFFF, bisexual females, fingering, masturbating, oral, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink. Unprotected p in v. Overstim and squirting. Please read this at your discretion. If this isn’t for you, that’s perfectly fine. AN: You can thank @mermaidgirl30 and @littlevenicebitch69 for being good little girls and filling my mind with depraved and twisted thoughts. This fic has truly been a labour of love, taking me almost 6 weeks to put together and edit. I'm not the least bit sorry about the word count, grab a snack, probably some electrolytes and maybe some spare batteries lol. Special shoutouts to @pedritoferg for their kind words when my imposter syndrome had the best of me. As always, dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Friendly reminder that I'm phasing out my tag list, follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates for new fics.

Word Count: 9005

Becoming one of Tess’s Treasures seemed like a fallacy, a pipe dream. A fairytale life only reserved for the most vicious females that prowl the shady streets of the Boston QZ, and you aren’t a killer. A thief, yes; but not a killer. Truthfully, you weren’t even sure if the organization existed. Sure, Tess was a real person, but did she actually have a horde of women she called her Treasures? 

She was infamous in the seedy underbelly of Boston, her and her henchman Joel. Granted, no one ever seemed to see Joel, unless he was about to kill you. And sometimes not even then, he was often hiding in the shadows, shadows darker than the demons that allegedly haunted him.

Outbreak day happened when you were just little, you don’t remember much of the journey from your old hometown to Boston. Everyone here is poor, doing what they can to get credits to buy basic human needs; making trades and swaps were what most people did. You, however, were much more clever. After discovering a book detailing the art of sleight of hand you started practicing, and now you can take anything, right in front of someone's eyes, without them noticing. 

Or so you thought. After stealing a pistol from a FEDRA officer and replacing it with a banana, all while having a conversation with him in broad daylight, Tess approaches you.

“Come to my apartment next week. I wanna see if you have what it takes. Mum’s the word.” It’s a hushed whisper as she passes you, slipping a small card in your back pocket as she goes. 

You follow the cards' instructions, arriving at the exact time, going up to the top floor and then doing two quick, sharp knocks on the worn out door.

“Enter,” Tess says from inside. The door creaks on your way in. It’s the hottest day Boston has seen in years, and even in your small sundress, the room is stifling hot. The air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and something else that you can’t quite put your finger on. There’s a fan oscillating in the corner, the paint chipped off the cage that protects the blades. As it blows warm air past you, you realize that the other smell is sex. 

Tess is sitting on the couch to the right of the door, two mismatched wooden kitchen chairs in front of her. Straight ahead from the door is a small kitchen, and to the back left of the studio style apartment is the bed. Unmade, sheets tousled like someone just woke up, but based on the heady taste of the air in the room, the messy sheets are definitely from two people rolling around in them.

“Come sit,” Tess says firmly. You click the door shut behind you and head to the empty chair that’s waiting for you. The other chair is occupied by a small brunette woman. She has long slender limbs and doesn’t look like someone who would hang out with raiders, poachers and drug runners. Her hands are folded in her lap, ankles crossed under the chair. She doesn’t look over at you.

Tess leans forward, spreading her denim clad legs wide and resting her elbows on her knees. “Do you two know who I am?”

You both nod slowly. Up close, Tess is terrifying. She could have you killed with just a snap of her fingers, and Joel would do it however she wanted. From what you’ve heard, very slowly was her favourite way to have people eliminated from this earth. Quick deaths weren’t something she enjoyed when someone had fucked her over. 

“Speak!” she commands. The brunette jumps and even though you’ve mastered the art of pushing your fears down and masking your emotions, a small butterfly flaps its wings behind your navel. 

“Yes,” you say hoarsely as a meek ‘yes ma’am’ sounds beside you.

“Good. So then you know the….perks of being one of my Treasures,” Tess’s eyes twinkle as she says perks like she knows something you don’t. Like it’s more than the better living arrangements, food and medical care. Better than a sense of family and belonging.

She continues, “I’ve seen both of you at work. You,” her steel grey eyes are laser focused on yours, “With your quick hands, and you,” she adjusts her attention to the petite woman beside you, “With your ability to talk a man into almost anything. Before you can officially call yourself my Treasures, there’s a small matter of your…” Her voice trails, mouth ticking up on one side as she cocks her head and drags her eyes across both of your bodies.

“Well, your initiation.” She leans back onto the couch, knees falling wider. One arm drapes across the back, the worn cushion deflating slightly. The other rests on her thick, toned thigh. “I take care of my girls, but they need to show me that they can listen.”

The air seems thicker, and harder to fill your lungs with. Every move of her eyes is suggestive. Is she saying what you think she’s saying? You feel yourself begin to soak through your panties at the possibility of getting to fuck.

You aren’t left wondering for long as she points a long finger at the girl beside you, “Stand up, take off your clothes.”

“W-what?” the girl sputters. 

“I said to stand up and take off your fucking clothes,” the words almost seem to burn as she repeats herself. 

The girl stands so quickly that the chair falls, making a loud crash against the worn hardwood flooring. She stares at Tess for a moment, unsure if she should pick up the chair before she decides against it and pulls her blue cotton baby tee off, revealing a lacy white bra underneath. 

“That’s it,” Tess groans. “Take off those little shorts next.”

With shaky hands she moves to the button fly, each drag of the metal on denim seems to echo in the silent room. Tess licks her lips as she slides her shorts down her legs and kicks them to the side. “Come here,” Tess says, her voice already husky and deep. The woman walks over to Tess, stopping between her spread legs. Tess’s strong fingers grip the girl's hips and she gasps. “Turn around,” she urges, dragging her fingers along her hips as the mystery girl spins.

“What’s your name?” Tess asks. The girl's bright green eyes land on you and you see her breath hitch in her slender throat. She’s petite, probably a few inches shorter than you and at least a foot shorter than Tess. You’ve always been attracted to both men and women and there’s no denying that this little stranger is absolutely stunning. 

“Lydia,” she croaks.

“Are you nervous, Lydia?” Tess asks, cupping the globes of her ass in her hands, kneading and squeezing. Spreading them gently, exploring what she’s about to claim as hers. 

She nods her head and lets out a shaky moan of agreement.

“Go pick up your chair and sit down, Lydia.” Tess swats her bum as she walks away and Lydia yelps quietly.

Tess’s eyes now come to you. Staring straight into your soul. I’m sure if she could, her eyes would incinerate your clothes right off of you. It’s intoxicating. You, unlike Lydia, are not nervous. Not in the slightest. If anything, Tess’s attention on you only makes you wetter. Your panties are practically soaked through already. “And you, my little thief. What’s your name?”

You say your name confidently and squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease some of the ache that Tess’s newfound attention is bringing to the apex of your thighs.

Tess whispers your name back at you and it sends a shiver down your spine. She continues, “Get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Lydia swallows loudly beside you as you drop to the floor, crawling seductively to Tess, head held high. The worn hardwood planks creak under your weight. Even the floor is warm and sticky from the weather. You make it to her, sitting back on your heels like the good little girl you are. She leans forward and tugs on the hem of your dress and her syrupy voice says, “Arms up”. You lift your ass slightly and she slips your dress up and over your head. It was too hot for a bra today so you’re left in just a lacy pink thong.

“Mmmm, look at those pretty tits,” Tess hums, her fingers gliding along the plush soft skin of your breasts before ghosting over your nipples making the arm whoosh from your lungs. “You like that? Me touching your nipples.”

You breathe out a yes, eyes shutting as she pinches your pebbled buds roughly. “Oh god, yes.”

The old worn couch groans as Tess sits back, “Go take her bra and panties off.”

You climb to your feet and walk over to Lydia, holding out a hand and helping her stand. You move behind her and trail your fingers down the soft skin of her spinal column before popping the clasp of her bra. Lydia slides it off her body, arms crossing to block her now exposed breasts. Goosebumps rise across her from head to toe. You shush her and rub up and down her arms. Lydia relaxes under your touch and she drops her arms, Tess nods at you once, a silent encouragement to continue. You get down on your knees, hooking your index fingers in the waistband of her panties and sliding them down. Her round ass is in your face, she smells like fresh linen and rain. You fight the urge to kiss the sensitive little spot right where her ass crack starts.

“So fucking beautiful. Sit back down, Lydia.” Tess says and you want to cry out in protest. Her body is so enticing, soft and warm. She focuses back on you and says, “Stand in front of Lydia so she can take your panties off.”

You stand gracefully, biting your bottom lip as you maneuver yourself in front of Lydia. “Spread your legs,” you whisper, determined to help her so you can put on the best show for Tess. Lydia parts her knees and you twirl to face Tess, gathering your hair in one hand as Lydia slides your soaked panties down your legs. You kick them to the side and seductively drop your hair, smiling sweetly at Tess.

“Sit,” Tess barks. Lydia gasps behind you, but you like this; being told what to do. Commanded. Used. Tess continues after you sit, “I want you both to touch yourselves. Show me how you like it, but don’t come. You haven’t earned that yet. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lydia says, looking down at her hands. You nod eagerly, already sliding your ass to the edge of the chair and spreading your legs wide for her. Tess stares at your glistening core hungrily, leaning forward again to rest her muscular forearms on her knees. Her hair falls forward and frames her face. Her expression is hard, like you don’t want to disobey her in these moments. Brows are slightly knit together, lips in a thin line. She looks beautiful and dangerous, but as you bring your pointer and ring fingers to your entrance she softens a little, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Lydia keeps her legs closed, slipping a finger down her slit and rubbing slowly from side to side. She whimpers silently beside you, glancing at you nervously. Your fingers easily slip inside of your soft, dripping hole. 

Tess’s eyes dance between the two of you. “Two very different girls,” she says to the room, neither of you stopping what you’re doing, both determined to become a part of her Treasures. “One of you seems shy, but I can work with that. Help you get out of your shell. And then there’s you,” her focus locks on you as she gets up with a grunt and saunters over to you. “You are a little whore, aren’t you? So eager to please.”

You feel yourself getting wetter at her attention and mean words. She pets your head lightly a few times, laughing quietly at how you lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed. Just as your lashes hit your cheeks she grabs a handful, pulls hard and gets within inches of your face. “You’re going to be a problem, aren’t ya?”

“No,” you gasp, your orgasm right on the precipice, so you slow your motions. “I’ll be good, Tess.”

“Did I say you could slow down?”

“I - I’m gonna come,” you whine. 

“No, you’re not. You just told me you’d be good. And good girls don’t come until they’re told.” She releases your hair and you suck in a breath. Tess’s presence is palpable, she seems to take up all the space and air in the apartment by just being here. “Do NOT come, that’s an order.”

Just as the last sentence leaves her mouth the door opens and the apartment gets smaller, like your whole existence is being put in a vacuum sealer. The deep chuckle that comes from whoever just entered makes your scalp prickle, but you keep your focus on Tess.

“What’re we doin’ here, Tess?” The voice is deep, with a slight southern accent highlighting an occasional word. It can only belong to one man, the only man allowed near Tess’s Treasures. Joel Miller. He’s feared and revered in the Boston QZ. Runs the drug trade that keeps both FEDRA and the seedy underbelly running. You’ve never seen him before, but you’ve heard stories.

“Recruits,” Tess says, walking over to Lydia, crouching in front of her. “This one is shy. The other one - well, I might need your help with her.”

Your clit feels like it’s zapped with electricity at her threatening promises and you moan loudly, pausing your fingers that have been plunging in and out of you as per Tess’s requests. “See,” she says flatly, hands massaging Lydia’s plush tanned thighs. 

You hear Joel’s heavy footsteps as he walks towards you, you can feel his heat and smell the tobacco coming off his skin. When he steps into your line of vision everything blurs. He’s beautiful and dangerous, but overall he’s the most incredible specimen you’ve ever seen. Your brain seems to go blank, like a hard reset, until all you see and smell and care about is Joel. You keep your eyes locked on his face, his brows crease, lips pressed tightly together. He plants his hands on his hips as his coffee and whiskey eyes slowly trail down your body. When he gets to your soaked and swollen pussy he licks his lips. “You gonna let her come?” He asks Tess but doesn’t take his eyes off you.

The fog clouding your brain clears and you glance towards Lydia and Tess. She has her legs spread and Tess is smiling encouragingly up at her, hand on top of hers, teaching her where to touch. 

“She can come when she’s earned it. Lydia’s earned it though. Haven’t you?” She nods at Lydia as she squirms in the wooden kitchen chair. “That’s it, show us.”

Lydia speeds the up and down motion of her hand sloppily, you can hear the wetness as her movements become more erratic. Joel’s eyes haven’t left you, still watching you fuck your fingers in and out of yourself, almost mesmerized by you. 

“Tess,” Lydia murmurs.

“Go ahead, baby. Come for me. Let me see that pretty little pussy twitch.” 

Lydia’s body starts to shake as she cries out, her hand slowing as she whines and moans, “Oh god. Oh god. Yesyesyes.”

You peel your eyes away from her and squeeze every muscle in your body as tightly as you can, holding on, not letting yourself come. Looking at Joel makes it nearly impossible not to tip over that very tantalizing edge, so you clamp your eyes shut. “Tess,” Joel says, his voice a baritone whisper. “You’re torturing this one, look at her.”

He’s right, she is torturing you; but, what Joel doesn’t know is that you love it. You love being denied just as much as you love being used. You love being pinned down or tied up. You love having your throat or pussy or ass fucked in any and all positions known to humankind. The world is a dark and horrible shit show, but sex? Ya, sex makes you feel alive. 

“Torturing her would be not letting her touch herself at all. She should be thanking me.” Tess turns her attention back to Lydia, helping her stand up and pulling her to the couch. “You did such a good job for me. You looked stunning as you fell apart.”

You open your eyes at the movement of them. They stop and stand facing each other in front of the couch as Tess removes her shirt, her breasts are small and perky with light pink nipples. Joel looks away from you, staring appreciatively at the woman he’s sworn to protect. She pops the button on her jeans. “Take them off her, Lydia. Tess shouldn’t have to work this hard,” Joel commands. 

You whimper at the timbre of Joel's voice when he’s giving instructions and his eyes whip back to you. “You like that, don’t you? Being told what to do.”

“Yes, oh god, please can I come Tess,” you cry, eyes still locked with Joels.

“Lydia is going to lick my pussy, Joel is going to move out of the way so I can see you, and when I say you can come I want you to be loud. I want to hear those slutty little moans. Got it?”

Joel doesn’t hesitate, stepping behind your chair. He must be leaning over you because you swear you can feel his breath on the shell of your ear. Tess sits on the couch and tugs at Lydia’s wrist gently, encouraging her to kneel in front of her. “Come on,” she whispers and then places her finger at the top of her pussy. “Just lick and kiss right here. You can do it.”

Lydia moves slowly, giving you a knowing glance over her shoulder as she gets into Tess’s desired position. You suddenly realize that she’s more clever than you initially thought. She’s not shy, she knows exactly what she’s doing. Tess likes to lead, so she acted like she needed the guidance. And now she’s come and you haven’t. Tess’s head falls back, jaw going slack as Lydia tastes her. 

“Does that turn you on?” Joel whispers, his warm breath hitting your neck. “Seeing Tess being eaten out. She deserves that every day, you know. She’s gonna take such good care of you, so you better care for her.”

“I will,” you mumble. “I’ll do whatever she needs. Whenever. Fuuuuck.”

“Look how wet you’re getting, I don’t think you can hold it for much longer.” He’s taunting you now. “Little thing loves to come, doesn’t she?”

“No, Tess gets to - oh god - she says when,” you’re squeezing as tight as you can, holding back the orgasm that’s right there, like a seesaw teetering, so close to tipping to the other side and slamming through you. 

Lydia slurps at Tess, you can hear her sucking at her clit as Tess moans and tangles her fingers into Lydia’s hair. “Yes, that’s it. Fuck, right there.”

You let out a breathy whine and Tess’s eyes come to you. “Ssshh, not yet. Oh shit, Lydia. So good.”

Joel laughs into your ear. “Just come, what’s the worst she’s going to do? Spank you? Let me fuck your throat? I bet you like being punished.”

You shake your head, trying to block out all the lewd mental images he’s creating. “No, Joel.” you huff, refocusing on holding it in, thinking of all the unsexy thoughts you can as you watch Tess, waiting for your time. 

Tess’s legs begin to shake, “get ready, baby. We are going to come together.” 

Your wrist begins to ache, it feels like you’ve been fucking yourself for hours. “I need to, please. You look so - “

She cuts you off, “Joel, take over for her. I’m gonna come.”

Joel practically leaps in front of you, grabbing your wrist and pulling your drenched fingers out while slipping his two thick fingers into your mouth. You bob up and down on his fingers still looking at Tess. Her eyes are glazed over, and a bead of sweat slides down the line of her toned stomach and lands in her belly button. 

“Now, Joel,” she whines and Joel wastes no time slamming his fingers inside of you. You cry out at the stretch, pleasure mixing with pain before he pumps his fingers forward. “Come right now,” Tess says. 

You look down at Joel, his thumb coming to caress your swollen bundle of nerves and you cry out, the room filled with your loud moans just like she wants. You hear both her and Joel encouraging you. Joel’s Texas twang washing over you,  “that’s it, fuckin clenchin. Fuck you’re so tight.”

Joel is relentless, curling and dragging his fingers in and out of you as you writhe in your chair. “Tess, oh god, yes.”

Joel's other hand slaps the inside of your thigh, “LOUDER!” he demands.

You squeal at the hot pain that splashes along your thigh, “hhnnngg, thank you. Fuck.” Your pleasurable moans turn into whines of pain as the overstimulation starts to seep in. You try to pull back and bring your knees together and Joel lets out a growl. He looks up at you dangerously and your stomach clenches. This is the wild, animalistic Joel Miller that everyone fears. 

You start to panic, he’s not stopping and you don’t know if you can take much more. You’re so wrapped in his onyx gaze and a mix of fear and arousal that you don’t notice Tess behind Joel until she speaks. Her voice is soft yet firm as she cards her fingers through his greying curls, “Joel, that’s enough.”

He blinks hard, seemingly coming out of some sort of trance, and then slips his fingers from you, strings of milky arousal coating his fingers. “Good boy,” she whispers. “Help her up, but you don’t get to touch either of them until I say so.”

He nods and then stands, helping you up. Lydia is lounging lazily on the couch, her face still glistening with Tess’s juices. Your knees shake underneath you and Joel wraps an arm around your waist. You’ve had plenty of orgasms in your life, but never one that deep and strong. Your pussy is aching and you just want to sleep.

Tess sits on the chair that Lydia was on and spreads her legs slightly. “Lydia,” she crooks her fingers at her, calling her over. “Turn around, pretty girl. Straddle my thigh.”

Lydia follows Tess’s instructions, that fake nervous pout of her lips on display for Joel. Clever, very clever, you think through heavy eyelids. 

“Joel, help her on the other thigh and bring that chair.” Joel guides and steadies you as you sit on Tess’s thigh, then places the extra chair in front of the three of you. “Use the chair for balance,” Tess instructs, her hand running up and down your spine gently. 

You both lean forward, your sweaty palms slipping slightly against the wooden chair. You both gasp quietly as your swollen clits press into her muscular thigh, as she caresses your backs and hips. Joel sits on the couch across from you, one arm draped across the back and his legs spread. He watches you intently, eyes blown out and curls sticking to his forehead. It’s not lost on you that he hasn’t focused much attention on the other girl. You look over at Lydia and she’s smiling flirtatiously at you. Your faces are just inches apart and she nudges at your nose with hers.

“Ladies,” Tess starts, “this is the part where you show Joel what you can do. He’s going to kill people for you, and when he does, you need to repay him.”

You graze your lips against Lydias, her skin tastes like peaches and Tess’s cunt. 

“Pretend my thigh is Joel's cock, show him how you’ll ride him.”

You flick your attention back to Joel, and his expression shifts from hard to a tortured need. You rake your eyes down his strong chest, still concealed by that fucking denim button up that you want to rip off with your teeth. He’s dangerous and could easily snap your neck with two fingers, but fuck, if that doesn’t make you want him more. Lydia presses her lips to your throat and you start to grind back and forth on Tess’s thigh. 

You continue to take in Joel’s body, stopping when you get to his lap. Your eyes widen at the distinct outline of his hard cock pressing behind the zipper of his jeans. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you lock eyes with him again. His coffee coloured irises are almost onyx as he shifts in his seat. He wants you - just as much as you want him, and you just hope that you can break him enough so Tess lets him have you. 

Tess’s strong hand travels up the smooth skin of your back, tangling her hands in the hair at the nape of your neck. “Tell Joel how good it feels, baby. Lydia, keep kissing her.”

Lydia’s lips suck at your skin. “Mmm, fuck Joel. Feels s’good. Wish it was your big cock filling me up, sliding in and out of my tight, wet pussy.” Tess tugs at your hair to open your neck more for Lydia and you yelp.

“Keep talking, baby girl,” Joel says, his hand moving to palm himself over his jeans. “Tell me what you want.”

You grind harder into Tess’s thigh, between the sting in your scalp from her hand, Lydia’s soft lips on your neck, and Joel’s intense stare, it almost becomes hard to breathe. Every bit of their attention is on you.

“I-I want you to, mmmm, to pin me down,” you take in a shaky breath, never taking your eyes off him. “To f-fuck me…from behind. Want you to f-fill, oh god, fill me.”

Joel pops the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants to grip himself through his tight grey boxers. You continue breathily, “Wanna feel you spank me. Slam inside of me. Dominate me.”

“Good girl,” Tess says, releasing her grip on your hair and pulling Lydia off your neck, before pressing in between your shoulder blades until you’re flush with her thigh. You crane your neck to keep your eyes on Joel, looking at him through the wooden slats of the back of the chair in front of you. “Your turn, Lydia. Tell Joel what you want.”

She clears her throat before beginning, “If he killed for me, I wouldn’t make him do any work. I’d lay him down, lick and kiss every inch of him before sliding him in my mouth. Taking him deep, cradling his balls with my hand. I’d swallow every drop.”

Joel lets out a noncommittal grunt, almost like a secret language between him and Tess. Joel leans forward and removes his denim button up and t-shirt in one swoop. His tanned and toned chest makes your mouth water. His chiselled pecs and soft belly have trimmed salt and pepper hair dusted across them, he toes off his shoes and then lifts his hip, sliding his jeans down his legs. His skin glistens with sweat and you want to lick it all off of him, drink up his salt and musk, his innate Joel-ness. 

“Come here, Joel.” She says. 

“Sit up,” she says softly to you. Joel stalks forward like he’s about to claim what’s his and your pussy clenches around nothing in hopes that it’s you.

“Ride my thighs, girls. Whoever cums first, Joel gets to fuck.” You spit into your hand and reach between your legs, gently spreading your lips and coating yourself in saliva.

A deep, “holy fuck” leaves Joel's lips at the sight of you. Yes, he definitely wants you just as much as you want him. You move your hands from the chair to Tess’s knee and grind your hips in small, slow circles. Your arms push your tits together for Joel. Beside you, Lydia stops moving. She sits as still as a statue, looking over her shoulder seductively at Tess. A loud slap fills the room, followed by a lust filled moan that you didn't think Lydia was capable of. 

“Tess,” she says, all airy and breathy. Her tone feels sweet on your skin. “I don’t like sleeping with men.” 

You keep grinding, your focus on Joel. He’s so close that you could reach out and grab one of his muscular forearms. You’re going to fuck him. You want to fuck him. Any way he wants. Any hole he wants. None of it matters, you just want to feel him, smell him, taste him. 

Tess lets out an impressed sigh. “You’re even more amazing than I thought, Lydia. Had me telling you how to lick a pussy, how to touch yourself. But you already know. Don’t you?” She slaps Lydia’s ass again and the loud noise even has you clenching. Fuck, you want Joel to spank you. Or Tess. Even Lydia at this point. 

It’s wrong. And taboo. But who can say what’s right or wrong in this new world anymore? 

“You are going to have to do things for Joel, little temptress. It’s part of the deal.” You see Tess’s hands come to Lydia’s hips, encouraging her to grind at the same pace you’ve set. “So ride me. Let me feel that slick little pussy, let me feel it quiver on my thigh.” 

Things are quiet for a moment, just the squelching sounds of both your cunts gliding along her smooth thigh. You lean into Lydia, desperate for more. More what, you aren’t sure. Just more.

She responds to your touch, her nose brushing your cheek before you turn into her and kiss her deeply. Slanting your head to taste her tongue against yours. She’s sweet, like strawberry jam. Lips so soft they almost don’t feel real. Her teeth clamp onto your bottom lip and you cry out. The perfect amount of pain to increase the pleasure between your legs. When she lets go you’re panting. 

“She’s close, Tess,” Joel murmurs like he knows your body so well, but he’s not wrong. He continues speaking casually to Tess as if you aren’t in the same room. “Do I really get to fuck her if she cums first?” 

You grind down harder, kissing Lydia again. You love them talking about you as if you aren’t here. Making the decisions for you. 

“As soon as she cums, you take her to the bed.” Tess’s strong hand lays a sharp slap on the meaty globe of your ass and you crumble. 

“YES!” You scream, convulsing as the pleasure courses through you. You look up at Joel through your lashes, jaw slack, voice weak and desperate. “Joel. Please. Please.” 

He drops his boxers and his thick cock spring free. Slapping against his belly. The tip is smooth and leaking, he’s bigger than you thought and somehow your throat dries out as your cheeks fill with saliva. As you come down from your second orgasm you realize that you can do this. You are going to do whatever Tess says and become one of her Treasures. 

“Think you can take him?” Tess hums as Lydia falls apart beside you, moaning sweetly. Tess adds, “Good girl, Lydia. So perfect when you cum.”  

You decide to take a page out of Lydia's book and act innocent. “N-no,” you stammer. “It’s…I don’t…it’s too big.” 

Joel snorts, “You’re not a very good liar my little slut.” 

Before you can respond he’s lifted you up and over his broad shoulder. His skin is warm against your belly. You giggle mischievously as his hands dig into the plush skin on the back of your thighs. He can so easily overpower you, so easily destroy you - mentally and physically. And you’d let him, and to make it worse, you’d thank him afterwards and probably ask him to do it again. 

He drops you on the bed. “Don’t move.” 

You nod and swallow the dry lump in your throat. You definitely want this, even if you shouldn’t. Even if that logical voice inside your head is screaming at you to put up the wall, block him out like you do with everyone else. But the infinitesimal hint of softness in his face that can only be seen by the two of you keeps you sucked in. He won’t hurt you, no. Something in his eyes gives him away, he wants to please you with those hands that have brought pain and torture to so many others. 

He walks back over to Tess and Lydia who are completely entranced with one another. Lydia is now sitting fully in Tess’s lap. Her back pressed to Tess’s front, both her legs draped over Tess’s as she pressed kisses along the tops of one of her shoulders and rubs her fingers gently from her pussy up to Lydia’s. Joel kneels in front of them, both of their legs spread, wet pussy’s glistening and on display for him. The sight of Joel Miller on his knees does something unexplainable to you. He’s so goddamn delicious. 

He looks over at you again, that softness still coaxing you deeper into his web, tangling around you, claiming you. His large hands cup Tess’s inner thighs and then he dives into both their pussy’s. Jealousy swirls in your stomach as he draws a sloppy wet line from Tess’s entrance to her clit, then up to Lydia in the same manner. 

“Oh, fuck Joel,” Tess cries as Lydia whimpers.

“Too much, baby?” he says gruffly to Lydia who nods before burying her face into the crook of Tess’s neck. “Little more, m’kay?”

He licks at them again, Tess’s moan ending as Lydia’s starts. Joel doesn’t stop. He uses long languid and lazy strokes of his tongue as he eats at both of them.

“J-Jo - fuuuck Joel!” Tess murmurs, her head falling back and mouth falling open in a silent scream. She wraps her arms tightly around Lydia as her legs start to tremble. Joel’s deltoids and biceps flex as he pushes to keep her thighs apart.

“Fuck, Tess.” Lydia purrs, “You look so goddamn hot when you cum. Suck on her clit, Joel. Make our girl squeal.” You can hear him slurp her swollen and twitching nub into his mouth. As it slips along his soft and puffy lips her pained sounding moans start to become mumbles of pleasure. Joel works her through her orgasm, not stopping until he knows she's good and sated.  

Lydia reaches back, twisting to kiss Tess deeply and then whispers into her lips. Whatever she says gets Joel's attention and he releases her clit with a pop before looking up at the two women. You haven’t moved from where Joel left you, as fun as being a brat is, he could probably dish out a punishment so intense that even you would break and use whatever safe word he gave you. Lydia whispers more, Joel smirks at whatever she’s saying and then the three of them all slowly turn to look over at you.

Fuck

Joel stands, his hands coming to the outsides of Tess’s knees and guiding her as she closes her legs, then he gives a hand to Lydia to help her stand before repeating the same with Tess. He stands tall and broad, completely naked and fully erect between these two powerhouse women, linking his fingers with Tess and smiling over at her. She gives him a little nod and your stomach flips as your pussy clenches.

This is it, you think.

“Little slut,” he says deeply, “‘M’gonna fuck you now, while they hold you down. Understood?”

You try to say yes, but just air seems to leave your lungs. Tess and Lydia climb along each side of you, hooking their arm under your leg and pulling back to open you for Joel. Your arms are trapped under their bodies as they lay beside you.  You’re pinned and exposed; fully at Joel, Tess and Lydia’s mercy. 

The bed dips as Joel settles between your thighs, his large body looms over you, resting himself on one forearm beside your head, his other hand wrapped around his cock, running it up and down your folds.

“So wet for me. So soft,” he presses the fat tip of his cock at your entrance and you gasp. “Shit! S’tight too, baby girl.”

Tess and Lydia nuzzle into you, lightly dragging their noses along your neck and jawline. “J-Joel, fuck me. Pleaseplease. Fuck me”

Joel presses his hips forwards, and the thick, smooth mushroom head of his cock pushes at your weeping cunt again. “Look at me, little slut,” he rasps. You don’t hesitate, look at him with big innocent eyes, biting your lower lip. He spits into his palm and then coats his throbbing dick with it, fisting himself up and down. He raises an eyebrow at you cockily, “Say it again.”

“Fuck me, fuck me, please!”

Without warning Joel slams into you, stretching you painfully and your body jolts. You try to slam your knees together but the naked women on each side of you keep you spread open widely for Joel. “Shit baby,” he says through gritted teeth as his body folds over yours, his hands caging all three of you in. Tess nips at your neck, while Lydia sucks at your earlobe after whispering, “Relax, little slut, we all got you.”

Your lungs slowly come back to you. You take a deep, full breath in, and it feels like you haven’t taken a proper breath since seeing Joel for the first time. As you exhale you’re completely surrounded by Joel Miller. His large body is all you can see and feel. Meanwhile, all you can taste and smell is his tobacco scent and the salt of the sweat that coats his tanned skin. You’re addicted, you want to be able to inject him right into your veins. Your pussy relaxes around him and the pain ebbs into pleasure, and you need more.

“More, please more,” you murmur into his neck.

“There she is,” Tess whispers in your ear and you whimper.

“Say it again,” Joel commands.

“Fuck me, Joel,” you cry. “Please, fuck me. Make me your little slut for real.”

Lydia giggles seductively in your ear, pulling you into her tighter.

“Open her all the way for me,” he says to the other two. “S’too tight for me.”

He sits himself up and your knees are pulled open and back. Joel keeps his eyes locked on yours as he tilts his chin a bit and splits on your already soaked pussy. His veiny hands come to the back of your thighs, squeezing and massaging at your sensitive skin.

“Think I should fuck her, Lydia?” He starts, and soon they’re talking about you again as if you aren’t even there, the slick walls of your cunt fluttering as they speak.

“She's been good, hasn’t she?” Lydia says in a syrupy aroused tone.

“No she hasn’t,” Tess says between kisses along your jawline. “She’s a thief. She’s a bad girl.”

Joel slaps the inside of one of your thighs, with just enough of a flick in his wrist that it immediately sends a zap of pleasure toward your clit. Lydia feels you relax more into her grips, “She likes it when you hit her, Joel”.

“Of course she does,” Tess moans. “She’s a little slut.” She hits the t at the end of the word hard and Joel slaps you again. Right in the same spot, precision that you’ve never known before from a man who kills without being seen. 

“Should feel how tight she is, maybe she had us fooled,” Joel says, eyes shifting between the two women, wholly avoiding your gaze. You’re so desperate for his attention, and the humiliation of him not returning it arouses you so much more than it should.

“What’d’ya mean, baby boy?” Tess asks, her warm breath hitting your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Like a virgin, squeezin’ me like a vice.”

“She’s shakin,” Lydia adds. “Poor girl.”

“You two don’t stop kissing her while I do this,” they both nod and he flips his attention back to you. “I wanna hear you screamin’. Got it, little slut?”

You shudder under his intense stare. “Yes, yes, Joel. Please, just fuck me. Pleeease!”

He pulls halfway out and then slams back in, his heavy balls slap at your taint and asshole, your needy high pitched moans filling the room. Your whole body constricts around Joel and as it relaxes it feels like heaven. No one has made your body feel like this. “That feel good?” Joel says tauntingly, his hands gripping into the back of your thighs.

“Please - fuck, yes. More,” you mumble, almost incoherently. 

“Show our girl, Joel. Show her what he can have once she’s my Treasure.” Tess commands.

What’s that saying, ‘You say jump, I say how high’? Well, when Tess says jump, Joel is already mid jump, doing it exactly how Tess wants it. He’s already dragging his cock out slowly, all the way to the tip, before slamming fast and hard back into you.

“Harder,” Tess growls, biting your neck as Joel repeats the motion. Lydia squirms against you, her soft warm skin slipping along the thin sparkling layer of sweat that coats your body. “Look at her. Pliant, soft. Letting Joel do whatever he wants.”

“That’s cuz she’s a good girl,” Lydia moans, kissing the sensitive skin under your earlobe. 

Joel brings one of his hands to cup your chin, his thumb running around your bottom lip softly. “Gotta relax for me, little slut.”

You take a breath and as you exhale you can feel the grip your pussy has on his thick cock loosen. “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

“Good job, baby girl,” Tess whispers, kissing at your throat again. 

“Fuck her now, Joel.” Lydia says, “We got her.”

Joel sets a quick pace, slamming in and out of you. His name and a string of swears leaving your lips with every thrust, just the screams of your pleasure and the squelching of your pussy filling the room. Tess and Lydia whisper praises as Joel is possessed by your cunt. Pounding and pounding into you without pause. Over and over, he’s relentless. A man possessed. You can’t help but wonder if he’s like this with all other women or if this is just for you. His hand falls from your chin, landing beside Tess’s head on the mattress, the other still gripped to your thigh. His short nails dig into your skin, leaving you marked with signs of him. 

“That’s it,” Lydia hums. “Taking it like such a good girl.”

Tess’s teeth lightly scrape at your jawline. “Come on, baby. I wanna see you come again.”

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Joel says each word at the end of his harsh thrusts. His voice is gravelly and deep. Seeping under your skin and into your DNA, the very fabric of your being. You belong to him, no questions asked.

“M-more. I - more - please.” You aren’t sure what you mean by more, but Joel seems to know your body better than you as he sits himself back up and brings his thumb to your clit, teasing it gently and you writhe under him. It’s almost too much but you need it, and even more, you need Joel not to stop.

He hammers into you again, slower this time, but still with an intense flick of his hips at the end. The leaking tip of his cock pressing against the perfect spongy part behind your clit.

“Can see you in her stomach, Cowboy.” Tess moans. Both the women feather long, lingering kisses along your neck. The juxtaposition of their soft actions and the bruising dance of Joel’s hip is just as confusing as it is arousing. 

“Rub her clit a little harder, Joel. I think she’s getting close.” You clench around him at Lydia’s words and cry out loudly. 

He swirls his thumb easily along your lubricated clit, the mixture of both of your arousals and his spit making it slippery. “Ohgod, hnnnnggg, J-Joel pleasepleaseplease.”

“Sssshhh, baby,” he soothes, pausing with his hips pushed flush to your ass. “Gotta relax, remember?”

You whimper in agreement, nodding your head as you try to slow your breathing and your heart rate. “There she goes,” Joel moans as your pussy walls flutter and then relax.

He starts to fuck you slowly, circling your swollen velvety nub with the rough pad of his thumb. His other hand leaves your thigh, massaging your breast, pinching at the nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight. Gonna fill you one day.”

“Today, please!” you protest through a salacious moan.

“Tell her,” he says to the women holding you in their arms, speeding up the circles of his thumb.

“Lydia,” Tess whispers, like it’s a secret just for the three of you, “Tell her your plan.”

You’re lost in a daze as Lydia says your name into your skin. When you don’t respond she nips gently at you and says, “Baby? You with me?”

“Y-yes. Fuuuuuuck,” you say wantonly.

“Joel is gonna make you cum, then pull out and cum all over our faces. After, we are going to lick it all off each other.” She says it with a hint of mischief and lust in her voice.

The three of them praise and encourage you as Joel keeps fucking you and rubbing your clit at the same time. You have no idea how long you’ve been in this apartment, how long you’ve been floating on a vibrating fluffy cloud of pleasure and craving. Whispers of “Good girl”, “so pretty”, and “fuck listen to how wet you are” travel through you.  

The electric currents of pleasure that sizzle along your skin all come to the base of your spine. Pressure building, so very close to exploding around all of you. “Come on, little slut. Let go for me.”

Lydia and Tess say ‘Come on’ and ‘relax into it’ at the same time.

“Shit, J-Joel,” you whimper. A tear runs down your cheek.

“I know, I’m here,” he says, voice slightly softer than earlier. “I know.”

The pressure becomes unbearable and then everything snaps. Your pussy flutters as the pleasure starts to consume every single inch of your being. Your vision blurs, every muscle going lax as you twitch unconsciously underneath him. 

“Good girl. Yes, that’s my good little slutty girl,” he growls. Your orgasm continues to tear through you, ripping you in half and you know when you come down only Joel will be able to stitch you back up again. 

Joel presses his large palm to your mound, and just as you feel yourself start to come down you’re on the precipice of another orgasm. “Got another one for me, baby?”

“Yesyesyes - yeeesss,” you’ve forgotten words, you’re just a bundle of pleasure. No muscles or bones or thoughts of your own. Just a pliant body, that’s fully under the control of Joel Miller. 

Your second orgasm hits you hard, tearing anything you had left in half. “She’s gonna squirt,” Joel mumbles.

“Just let it go,” Lydia whispers, suckling on your earlobe. 

You push into the feeling, letting it overtake you as liquid gushes from your cunt, coating Joel's pelvis and pooling on the bed below you. It splashes as Joel keeps up his pace. You scream out in pleasure. Lydia and Tess talking you through it quietly, “Good girl. Stay relaxed for me,” Tess says as Lydia adds, “Let it take you, we’re right here.”

The pleasure starts to ebb, it’s becoming too much as Tess whispers, “Breathe, baby girl. Just breathe.”

“Can’t, Tess.” you whimper, turning your face towards her. “Please,” you plead. If you learned anything from earlier, it’s that only Tess can make him stop. 

“Ok, baby, you’re ok,” she hums. She looks up at Joel above all of you and drops her voice, “That’s enough now, Joel.”

Joel pulls away from your clit and you sigh in relief, both his hands coming to your breasts, squeezing them roughly as his thrusts become sloppy. “Get ready,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Both Tess and Lydia scoot up so their faces are pressed against yours.

Joel slips out of you with a lewd pop and practically bends you in half to get over your faces. “Open your mouths and look at me,” he commands. The three of you obey, anything for the man who is going to kill for you or defend you to the very end if need be. 

His hand is tight around his cock, pumping himself quickly, the cords of muscle and veins along his forearm start to pop. His balls are full and heavy, tight against his body as he edges closer to his release. You stare at him, soaking in how wrecked he looks as he gets closer. His brows pinch together, onyx and whiskey flecked eyes looking only at you before his face goes lax and he lets out a deep, loud moan. Warm ropes of opaque white cum paint your faces.

As soon as he’s done he pulls away, Tess and Lydia letting go of your legs as the three of you kiss and lick at each other's sticky faces. Joel tastes better than you could have imagined, a heady mix of saltiness that leaves you insatiable for more.

Joel sits back on his heels watching the three of you slurp him up. He has a proud smirk on his face and when your eyes find his he winks at you before getting up and grabbing a towel off the top of the small dresser near the bed. Tess says something hushed to Lydia as you and Joel look at one another. Lydia pressed a kiss to your cheek before getting off the bed and following Tess into another room, the unmistakable sound of the shower alerting you to where they’ve gone.

Joel climbs beside you, looking down at you hesitantly. “You ok?” he whispers.

“Ya,” you sign sleepily. “I’m ok, Joel.”

He brings the towel to your thighs, soaking up your arousal. “I didn’t hurt ya?”

The towel ghosts along your swollen folds and you gasp, turning your head into Joel’s strong upper body. “I know, sorry.” He hisses, hating that he’s causing you discomfort. “But I gotta clean you up.”

He dabs gently with the soft towel causing an aftershock that shakes through your body and you feel yourself squirt again. Not nearly as much this time but a euphoric moan leaves your lips. Joel tucks the towel between your legs and guides your face up to meet his. His brown eyes burn themselves into your soul, “do you need more, baby? Just tell me.”

“It’s sensitive,” you whine.

He lifts an eyebrow slightly, “does it hurt?”

You stick your bottom lip out and nod sadly.

“Need me to kiss it?” he asks gently, his hooked nose rubbing against yours. 

You look at him hesitantly. Of course, you want Joel’s plush lips on your pussy, but a flap of a butterfly wing could probably cause you to implode at this point. 

“You can say another time,” he whispers, lips hovering over yours. He doesn’t know where this side of him has come from. Joel Miller is a simple man. Murder who Tess says, fuck any one of her Treasures that offer to get the adrenaline out afterwards, then leave them in their apartment pumped full of his cum. He usually can’t wait to rush back to his apartment to take a shower and shoot back a mix of whiskey and sleeping pills. But with you, he feels the need to care for you afterwards, and he has a strong feeling that you’re going to be a very large distraction in his life from now on. 

I’m fucked, he thinks to himself.

You lean forward to sponge your lips against his. He kisses you sweetly, pulling you in tighter as you hum contently into his lips.

“I don’t think I can tonight,” you say softly after breaking the kiss. 

“That’s ok, little slut.” He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you’re resting on top of him. Legs straddling his hips and your head resting on his chest. You shiver against him, tucking your arms into your body. His hands scramble for the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you, kissing the top of your head. “Tomorrow, after Tess officially makes you her Treasure, that will be your gift from me.”

You nod into his chest, he smells like gunpowder, fresh sawdust and sweat as your eyelids become heavy and the world seems to slip away. You have trouble sleeping normally, I mean who wouldn’t in this fucked up new world you’re all in, but with Joel, it happens almost too easily. Sleep just takes you to a deep and uninterrupted place for who knows how long. But when you wake you’re in a large grey t-shirt in a small bedroom, not the same one you fell asleep in. You hear the peaceful and melodic breathing of someone beside you. You move slowly, peeling open your eyes to see Joel sleeping beside you. The moonlight dances softly along his face, grey hairs glinting in the light. He looks so peaceful, nothing like the man that was crazed by your pussy early. He’s still visibly dangerous, but fuck is he beautiful. 

I’m fucked, you think to yourself.

Tag list:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 

@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot

@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog

@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya

@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey

@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81 @littlevenicebitch69

[thechekhov]

I kind of remember someone asking you that a long time ago, but can't really remember your answer (could be a totally fake memory actually)

Do you have any other stories you wrote and would be ok to share with us? Your writing is amazing!

Oh man.... The truth is, I've written tons of things. Not all of it is good! I've been writing for a long time - both fanfiction and comics. I don't know if I can recommend all of them, and I don't know if you want longer comics or shorter ones, but just as a few examples I guess there's these:

Pearls Before SW1N3 is my first long-form SU AU comic. I started it pre-Single-Pale-Rose. Looking back, the art isn't really all that great, and the story could be better, but I still think of fondly, because it was the first comic I did that surpassed 100 pages!

The Tale of Greatscale is a little comic about a DnD character I never got off the ground. I still think it's a neat venture into original comics for me.

And if you enjoy AUs and know anything about pokemon and Critical Role - I have another pseudo-AU that is basically a mashup of the Mighty Nein and Pokemon.

This is less a story - it's only a few pages. But I still think of this comic as a huge success, because I love the concept. However, I rarely go back to it because every time I look at the comments, I tend to go into a fugue state and commit atrocities.

And of course, if you weren't aware, I kinda accidentally drew uhhhh........ 5 seasons of a Steven Universe AU. Whoops.

I am also possibly maybe trying to work on an original story, a long-form comic. However, I haven't had a lot of time to work on it, so it's still very much being developed.

buuuuut I can't talk about that yet, because otherwise I'll stop working on it.

[thedustyleaves]

Hearing you talk about not enjoying studying art is such an amazing feeling, my imposter syndrome is through the roof since traditional studying just doesn’t click for me. It just makes me hate what I’ve drawn and feel so frustrated that I don’t take in anything. I’ve been unable to find my love for drawing recently and you made me realise that it’s because I’ve been forcing myself to study a lot more or paralysing myself with the thoughts that I SHOULD be doing something when learning through doing something I enjoy is always going to be better. I’m so glad I’m not alone with that oh my god.

I'm glad it's something you can relate to! :') I don't think it's something to feel bad about or feel "less than" for. I spent way too long feeling like that, and it's such a useless feeling; it belongs in the trash. I never picked up a pencil as a kid thinking, "Man, I can't wait to draw 117 thumbnails with three values to learn the basics of values and contrast."

Art is just not something I want to bother with studying. I do that plenty for optometry, which is something I study HARD because it makes sense, to me, to study it. Art is something I learn by doing, and if I were to dissect it like I do with the eye, then it would become clinical and no longer a creative and free thing I do whenever I want to.

Hence why I'm also not drawing at the moment—I simply don't have the energy or feel like doing it, and I don't want to feel bad about that. I'm not less of an artist just because I've "only" done like 2-3 sketches in a couple of months.

[trashworldblog]

What is hmbomberguy (I can’t spell) ur reblogs are making me so curious but I cannot handle getting into more content/ content drama rn.

hi! yes. so hbomberguy is one of those 2hr long video- twice a year or less youtubers. who make content exploring a topic (like plagerism on youtube, vaccines and autism, etc).

his new video talks about video essay type youtubers who steal all their writing from documentries, books, articles, etc. and makes thousands of dollars off of other peoples work.

james sommerton is the main focus of the video, but he also shows how iiluminaughtii stole from documentries (and even listed the piriting site she watched it from as a source? lol) and internet historian stole an entire article, format, visuals, and all, and got 10 million views for it (and stole so much his video got taken down) and theres this other video game guy that got hired at ign and the got fired from ign for piriting and is a homophobic right wing guy?? (details are fuzzy, this is a 4 hour video i watched once, forgive me).

um. but, the james sommerton stuff just gets crazier and crazier the way this guy just makes a ton of money by lying to his community. he ends up accidently stealing work from one of his patreon members (he stole on purpose, i assume he didnt know who he was stealing from was a patron). he asked and got thousands of dollars to mame a fake (?) film studio that has made no films, and only says theyre in preproduction for a new film every 10 months. he also, yknow, steals from queer voices, basically harming his own community for profit. and when he's called out for stealing, he either shouts homophobia or shifts the blame to his co writer, who probably knows nothing about the plagerism.

anyways. its a bit of a drama thing. but honestly its a lot about how and why we should care about the art and media we consume online, and just how many people who look like they have their life together and are making lots and lots of content, seemingly on their own or close, actually are just stealing from talented people. it heals a bit of that imposter syndrome for people that do make genuine content online, and shows the consumers what making too much too quick actually means for the content they enjoy. the get the equivalent of meat grinded facts mixed with misinformation, subtly changed quotes, and 0 sources, or a laundry list of unorganized and unlabled sources if they want to learn more.

also i like this tweet. summarizes it well for me.

um. but thats my thoughts on it. i liked it because it reminds me that people who are churning out content one-man-show style aren't making the greatest stuff. i struggle with feeling like my work takes too long. but this was a great reminder that im actually making something good (i hope!), or at least, something that is truely coming from me. so its gonna take time to do it. but it'll be worth it because it'll be coming from me. (and also good. hopefully)

also the money hbomberguy is making off this video is going to the people james stole from. so thats really nice.

[gardenerian]

new to this amazing fandom and imposter syndrome is raging thru me. any advice on how to take the plunge and create? or do you think all the well known creators here are already established?

what makes a fic great and a 'classic? regular updates? being active on socials? i posted once and was basically ignored so im scared now and in my head.

sorry for all the questions

× imposter anon

hey there 💓 welcome to the fandom! this is a brilliant, silly, LOVING place, and i am so glad you're here! i'm sorry you're feeling a bit unsure, ty for coming to chat with me 🫂✨

first, i'll say that NO, i don't think there's a cap on creators here. what i love about this fandom is that it's constantly growing and evolving - almost like it's breathing? there are new people who have just binged the show, fans who are reconnecting, and goobers like me who will never let go 😇 no matter what, we are here to gobble up words and art and thoughts and FRIENDSHIP!

honestly, i think the trick for me was connecting. i joined shameless tumblr in 2019 and screamed into the absolute VOID before i started interacting with others. once i started reaching out and talking with others, it was easier for me to share my writing or find the encouragement to start making gifs. there is a BIG focus on community here, and i find that people are so eager and generous with their energy. we WANT to cheer you on and champion your work! we WANT to beta and read and give advice/tips/love.

so i would say not to be shy (easier said than done, i know!), and to share your beautiful self! a lot of users have tracked tags, which is a good way to share and connect. i track #gardenermel (sometimes i am bad at looking, but i'll always get there!), and i'd love to see what you've been up to. and there are many others who love to see creations this way! if you feel comfortable, you can reach out via asks and strike up conversations! all of my friendships here started this way.

there are plenty of ways to get started! fandom events are especially useful for trying things out. depending on what you'd like to create, you could check out @galladrabbles @gallacrafts @gallavichmeta @shamelesscreatorsnetwork @gallavichprompts... there's a yearly @spicygallavichcollab and all kinds of events hosted by @gallavichthings. honestly, the list goes on! these are excellent resources for sharing creations, and a great way to meet members of the fandom.

there's also a host of discord groups associated with some of these initiatives! check out the blogs for links. plus, the big ol' gallabitches server (18+). you'll find a lot of us there, and it's a lovely space to chat about your creations (and everything else!).

as for fic classics, i think that depends on who you ask! there are certainly some fandom staples, but what's great about this space is the WIDE range of interests and ideas. people have put these guys in every single situation, and we continue to be fucking psyched about it. as long as ian, mickey, and the whole damn gang feel true to themselves, i am (generally) fucking here for it. i don't post regularly AT ALL, but i still find that people are so lovely when i do. there's no race to be won here, fandom is about ENJOYING yourself. so i say: please keep trying! drop me a link! i don't catch everything and i WANT to see what yall are doing!

i hope this helps, even in some small way. i know coming into a new fandom can seem daunting, but we're all here for the love of it, and it's so fantastic to keep sharing it! 🍅

anyone else have thoughts? i love you!

[roadkillthefox]

INTRODUCTION

Hello, internet. You can call me Carrion or Roadkill. If calling me either of those makes you uncomfortable, Oath is fine. I use he/they/it pronouns. I am 20 years old. I am a perisex trans man who was AFAB. I am pansexual and demiromantic. I am alterhuman. My identities are as follows:

Melanistic “silver” red fox (past life, unsure on gender, but probably male)

Spotted hyena (past life, probably female)

Drake/wingless dragon (psychological)

Bearded vulture (copinglink)

Gray wolf (hearttype, along with canines in general)

If you have questions about my nonhumanity, feel free to ask.

I first made this blog for venting purposes, mostly, so I’m still going to talk about a lot of things that impact my life. Depression, anxiety, imposter syndrome, chronic pain, PTSD, SA, SH, abusive parents, gender dysphoria, species dysphoria, etc. And I’m going to swear. A lot. This blog is for talking without a filter. I might even mention my problems with being hypersexual. This isn’t an 18+ blog, but it isn’t not one, either.

I have been diagnosed with autism, social anxiety disorder, general anxiety disorder, major depressive disorder, ADHD, CPTSD, and fibromyalgia. I am part of a median system (each part/alter will have their own intro below).

If you have a problem with any of this, please don’t harass me. Just block me and move on with your day.

I’m also going to post song lyrics that I like, reblog stuff I’m interested in, and maybe share some art that I make, now that I’ve decided to use this as my main blog.

This is a safe space for everyone. Systems of all origins, those with personality disorders, those who use pet or age regression (just be aware that I do swear quite a bit). This is also a safe place for paraphilias that are not harmful (so all except those that involve children, animals, and the dead). Any hate or harassment towards myself or anyone in my comment sections will not be tolerated and will result in you being blocked immediately.

One of my interests is vulture culture, or the collection of parts of animals (bones, antlers, feathers, etc), and I made a side blog for that specifically. You can find it at @scavengerlyfe

DNI (fuck off, get help, etc.): racists, sexists, homophobes, transphobes, acephobes, anyone who hates intersex people for any reason, ableists, zionists and supporters, pedophiles and supporters, zoophiles and supporters, necrophiles and supporters, anti endo, TERFs, people (dumbasses) who think that those with NPD and/or ASPD and/or any other personality disorder are inherently abusive (this falls under ableism, but I had to say it again), etc.

Note: I don’t care if you’re a religious person. Just don’t try to convince me that being myself is inherently wrong. I worship nature itself; don’t try to tell me I should believe what you believe. Same goes for political beliefs. I don’t care, just don’t harass me about it

PART/ALTER INTRODUCTIONS (We call ourselves the Fractured Mirror Collective, by the way. Unanimously agreed on it). Everyone in this system is an adult, but please don’t flirt with any of us, even jokingly (unless you know us irl)

Ilerei

Gender: female, uses she/her, but doesn’t mind being called they/them once in a while

Species: unsure, some kind of unique creature

Origin: host made an imaginary friend as a kid. That imaginary friend became real and basically the host’s sibling and voice of reason

General traits: caring, protective of the host, tries to keep everyone else in check

Moth

Gender: genderless, uses it/its

Species: winged demon-like being, possibly undead

Origin: unclear, literally just showed up out of nowhere, took control of the body and freaked out about the lack of wings and claws. That was 8/12/24, so Moth is very new here

General traits: angry most of the time, obsessed with wings and flying. Enjoys collecting feathers. Tends to say violent things

Haunt

Gender: unclear, but uses any pronouns

Species: Wenditcher (Hollywood’s bastardized version of the w*endigo)

Origin: not sure, possibly trauma-based

General traits: Quiet, mostly apathetic, hungry all the time. Enjoys collecting bones. Less angry than Moth, but talks a lot about how edible most living things are

[feiandart]

Posting 'em here again just to boost a bit my motivation today. I made 'em back in december, one of the first drawing I have ever made for myself only.

Will talk 'bout myself and my past from here, can skip it if you don't want my oversharing shit.

So. I used to work as a commission artist for years (5-6 if I'm not wrong), drew bit of anything you could think of and mainly sticked to NSFW art for most of my, uh, let me call that "carreer" even if it's probably the wrong term to use for it. Well, it paid my bills and rent for years, so we may stick to it anyway.

Thing is, I stopped drawing when I was eighteen. People, family first, always told me talent in art was all, practice would never have made it better and I should have kept it as a hobby rather than something to do as a job. Apart from my closest friends, no one encouraged me to practice and study and put real effort on it. I went to an art-based highschool (only because I couldn't focus on studying any subject, and art school is considered one in which you don't actually study at all here, so my parents thought it better to put me there as I wanted "so you can still graduate"), but I couldn't go ahead with art studies in professional comic schools, academies or any artistic department in university. No support on that front. Something like "be Caravaggio or be nobody" mindset was stuck into my head and I started actually believing that it was true. And since I was, and am not, Caravaggio, then what was the point? So I dropped the pencil and just forgot how to draw a fuckin' line for literal years.

Then I turned 22. I moved to another city for my studies. After completing 'em, my parents said me to come back home and I said no. They stopped paying anything for me since that moment, so I had to make things works on my own. Hopefully my rent was really low, so I could afford it with minimum effort, but had to buy groceries with coupons (not a common thing in Italy) and eat a lot less to make 'em last as much as possible. I found a job in a call-center, I cleaned houses and handed flyiers to people. And that's when I found out I cannot really be in social context for too long.

In the end I burned out, left all jobs and was stuck in bed for a month. I was barely 24, without a job, holding tight the little bit of freedom I ever got. I felt helpless and hopeless. I don't remember if my bestfriend or my housemate, but one of 'em said me to come back at drawing and givin' it a shot. What harm could that do afterall, could have been pocket money for a bit if it couldn't stick to something better.

I started from pencil. Then went to digital in a couple months. I practiced, started quite immediately taking commissions and honest to God I don't have the slightest clue of how someone whould spend money on some shit I drew without basic anathomy knowledge and after that much time without drawing. Still have no idea. So I drew. I made some quick animations, never did much there thought. Grew a little fanbase, went on with it for years. I even moved with my bestfriend, living with her alone for two years, got a cat I love that it's my actually support companion right now.

I felt happy for a bit, I believe. Imposter syndrome is always watching me afterall, that never stopped. It's just like there's another person in the room with me all day, whispering me I should do more 'cause I don't deserve any attention. Ugh.

However. I went on with that until 2023. I had to come back to my parent's house in 2022 and got stuck in here since then. Nightmare years. Still a nightmare period, but I'm managing. Thing is, past year I burned out so much I completed all my left commissions in a rush and actually dropped my tablet for months. I used it as a third screen, took away the pen and the glove and swore I would never ever be back at drawing again. Will not go into details of what triggered that burnout, but you got the point, I didn't want to draw again in my life at that time.

This is pretty much when Good Omens entered the room. It was late September, I saw a lot of videos on tiktok and since I watched S1 years ago, I decided to give it a shot to S2 too. It was an istant hyperfocus. Watched all over for weeks, both in italian, in english, in english with italian subs and english with english subs. Never done anything like that in my life before. By the end of October I came back at writing. So I started to arrange things for Up&Down, my first fic after uhm, like 15 years or so. And it felt so good! I went through 42 days of deep writing, posting a chapter a day just for myself. 'cause I wanted to write something I liked for the sole purpose of liking it. And it felt so liberating!

Then I thought: will this apply to drawing too, maybe?

Answer is YES. It did. I was inspired from the fandom, from MrGhostRat's art and Gleafer's, and started drawing again. I dug into english fanfictions, fandom artists I love, and the list just gets longer day by day. I started writing Sugar, and with it I started drawing illustrations for it.

I went from the image to the left to the one to the right in two months. Guys, I'll repeat it: TWO MONTHS. I never had such a quick improvement in years, practicing every fuckin' day, drawing my hands out of my bloody body. I drew for 5-6 years and never got to improve this much. I did now. And you know why?

'cause I started drawing for myself. I'm doing something I love. And I'm getting better at it.

And you know what? I'm quite angry now. 'cause if I didn't stop years ago, who knows where I could have been now. If I didn't listen to people saying me "be Caravaggio or be nobody", I could have done so much more by now. Maybe I could have been able to draw fuckin' furnitures by now. Maybe I would have started being able to draw the same face two times in a row years ago insted of now.

Maybe I could have been the comic artist I wanted to be. Maybe not the best in the world, but I don't fuckin' care of being the best one, I want to be one I'm proud of. I didn't get the chance 'cause out there is full of people without a dream who's only purpose in life is destroying other people hopes.

And you know what? I'm done with that. I'm done with people saying me I'm not a gifted child. I'm done with people coming at me saying I cannot do shit I love 'cause they have reason to make me do something different. People thinks to know what's good for me but I'm fuckin' 30 and I think I know it pretty well already, thank you very much.

I'm managing how to get hold of my choices and things I love now that I'm an adult, but dear Lord I keep on thinking of my young self and I want to hug that poor thing so much I can't explain. I'd love to say her everything's going to be hard, but good in some way. That things are difficult, but they will change. That people are shit, but she should be strong and fight back. 'cause I did it too late and I regret now, but she deserved better.

You deserves better. And I'm talking to anyone who's reading this. I don't know if you went all the way 'til here, but if you did: don't make my same mistakes. You know better than me. Don't let people spoil the things you love, don't give 'em power to destroy your will and put you in a closet for the time being. You don't deserve that.

Don't miss your chance 'cause people doesn't want to see you happy to be yourself. Don't do that. They don't deserve that power over you.

Love yourself more than I loved myself. I'm starting just now and it's hell. You can do better, I promise.

[fanfoolishness]

🌻🔪🕯️

ooooh!

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

@marvel-starwarsfangirl I love all of your posts!

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Weirdest topic.... hmmmmmmm this is gonna take a minute! Weirdest is such a relative term. The obvious answer would be medical whump topics. Even though I'm a veterinarian I don't do emergencies (unless they literally walk through the door, we rec referral to our many excellent local ER clinics instead), and obviously I don't work on humans, so between those two things my ER knowledge is more limited. So I always do research on human whump unless it's a topic I already know extremely well. Even then I still usually will run through an overview and check a few journals or descriptions of what something actually feels like to make sure I'm not putting out anything wildly inaccurate when it comes to things like noncardiogenic pulmonary edema, crotalid envenomation, femoral fractures, or amputation recovery. But is that weird? I'm not sure!

I did have to research some basic military terms for a recent Bad Batch fic though just to make sure I sounded vaguely like I knew what I was talking about, and I'm also constantly looking up clone/Dragon Age armor names to make sure I'm talking about the right bit of armor, haha.

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

I really enjoy editing, I'd say it's 9/10. One, it gives me a chance to read my own writing, which I adore because it's mine and it's my story and I like it. While I get imposter syndrome about editing art sometimes, for some reason I have always been confident in my writing and relaxed in it, which helps. Two, I hate the idea of putting out something with obvious errors, so it's soothing to go through and make sure I haven't used the word "trembled" seventeen times and that people aren't breathing too much. Three, it's great to go through and see if there's a phrase I can add or tweak that makes the ending that much more resonant, once I've got the ending in mind. I mostly write in chronological order, so sometimes going back to the beginning once I've reached the end gives me the chance to work something in that will be a gut punch by the end of the story. I took 1 point off out of 10 because sometimes I am soooo impatient to post my story, but know I need to take the time for the editing -- sometimes just for a few minutes to an hour, but sometimes I let the story cool off for a day before I go back for the edit if it's a long one.

Thank you so much for sending these!

Ask game here!

[whatwewrotepodcast]

OC Interaction Tag

Thanks @willtheweaver, haven't done this one yet!

I have an OC who is basically the samesies and I can't resist!

Will's OC - Cya is a child prodigy. Hers is a family of swans that have dedicated themselves to the arts. Having chosen to focus on dance and music, she quickly rose to become a master performer. Those who first meet Cya will say that she has a haughty and self-assured attitude that borders on arrogance. In reality, it is all just an act, as she suffers from anxiety and imposter syndrome. The pressure to uphold the family legacy and meet everyone’s expectations is immense, and she does her best to hide her insecurities. Suffice to say, this has not proven successful, and with no one to confide in, she can fall into days long states of depression.

My OC - Onyx is the nonbinary child of one of the greatest minds of the Alliance, the head of the huge corporation Calladan Technologies. They grey up in extreme wealth and privilege, however their home life was abusive and toxic. When their father died, Onyx fled the company, their home and their family to go and put their immense intelligence to work repairing starships, which is all they ever really wanted. Onyx has several degrees in astrophysics and astroengineering but at their heart all they love doing is handling and repairing machines. They're intelligent, but anxious, constantly feel like they're a failure and soon someone will figure that out, and extremely unsure of themselves. They can also be reckless and stubborn.

Interaction: I think once Onyx got over a talking swan, they would have a lot in common with Cya. They'd love being able to talk to someone on their level and certainly at first would do their best to hide their uncertainty and anxiety. Perhaps if they got to know each other better, if they forced a relationship, they would be able to talk of the pressures of their intelligence, of legacy and expectation.

Tagging @theloudestwriter @elsie-writes @thylocalbard

[achillean-knight]

Kicking my feet and twirling my hair, I'm gonna ramble about my spider sona's because they are rattling in my brain and I love them to bits >:)

Uh

Also just saying, I compiled a fuck ton of images of them into shitty collages because I have no motivation to make perfect reference sheets of them. Shitty collages too BC I did it on my phone and can't do graphic design for the life of me :')

ANYWAYS ONTO THE RAMBLE (under the cut for those who literally don't care and wanna scroll past LOL)

Funnelweb also known as Shadow Spider or Aaron Watson

A 20 year old trans demi-boy lad who had the Miles Morales treatment and was bitten by accident by an other-worldly spider.

~~~

When he was younger, Aaron was close with his sister. She was all that he had after their parents had died, and even though they had Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Aaron wasn't close with the two. He stuck by his sister through thick and thin until the day that'd change his life forever.

One fateful evening, he had lost his sister when they were caught between the Spiderman of Aaron's world fighting one of his usual enemies. Grief stricken, Aaron held malice and resentment toward Spiderman and felt utterly cursed when he got the Miles Morales treatment and was bitten by accident by another spider from another world.

With this new found power, Aaron took it upon himself to be a counterpart to Spiderman, titling himself Funnelweb to differentiate himself from the man he despised.

He became basically Batman to Spiderman's Superman.

~~~

Facts and little extra info

- Funnelwebs main power is electricity. It causes him to be much quicker then Spiderman and sometimes it trails behind him.

If channeled properly, he can use it as a weapon, but it takes alot of focus and patience.

- He uses a skateboard to help him get around and fight!

I had the idea of a skateboard because of a character named Beat from The Wold Ends With You using a skateboard both for battle in the first game, and to get around quickly in the second >:3

- He doesn't have natural webs, so he has custom web slingers built into his spiked wristbands.

- Everything in Funnelwebs world is Punk/Emo. Even the enemies lol and even Spiderman. I should really design him.

-Even though I put his face in the collage, in Funnelwebs world, only blues and reds are highlighted, and he's always obscured in shadow.

He does look like the portrait when in other worlds.

- It's not clear what year Funnelweb is supposed to be in, but it is a hybrid of 2000's with futuristic elements but still feels incredibly grunge and punk/emo.

- Technically Funnelweb, if we count Miguel's canon event thing, is his world's "MJ", however he changed his name after coming out and doesn't believe in the fate that usual MJ's succumb to.

However, he can't help but wonder if loosing his sister and becoming a second Spiderman was the canon event he dreaded, being intertwined with Spiderman's fate even though not romantically involved.

~~~

Retro-Spider also known as Peter Parker or Lachlan Parker.

A 20 year old arts major who was bitten by a spider of unknown origins. He is his world's one and only Spiderman.

~~~

Peter- preferring Lachlan- hadn't been Spiderman for very long before things took a turn for the worst.

His worlds Uncle Ben, rather Uncle Lachlan, died mysteriously and suddenly, leaving Peter in immense grief.

When Peter joined the spider society, he adopted the name Lachlan, both to pay respects to his uncle and to differentiate himself from all the other Peters as he felt intense imposter syndrome when he talked to every Peter.

Eventually, Lachlan gained a watch to traverse world's and had the time of his life just pushing random buttons and jumping through portals to see what was on the other side, but he knew the next world he'd jump into was important because that's when he met Aaron.

~~~

Facts and little extra info

- Lachy was originally gonna have a blue, red and white suit but he looked too much like Pepsi man 💀 The portrait with the turtleneck was the only thing to survive from that original concept.

- His world is coloured like retro anime. I'm not good at all at drawing old anime but imagine everything is anime-esc and the world around him looks like what you'd see on Pinterest if you searched up like, retro anime city.

- His world is basically the 80's.

- His powers are pretty basic, however, he has organic webs!!! His webs are like layers of extremely thin webs joined together and give his webbing a shimmer and holographic effect.

- His suit is holographic >:3

- Later down the line, Lachy becomes intertwined with a Symbiote. The lore is still a Wip.

- Lachy's own world MJ is like a best friend to him. He has no romantic feelings whatsoever.

- He is Pan! However, he keeps it a secret because the 80's were relentless if you weren't in a heteronormative ideal, and he already got bullied for his love of art :')

- His walkman is his baby. It was a gift from his uncle and he never goes anywhere without it (Star lord style babyyy)

[ostrichmonkey-games]

Any tips for a newbie gamemaker who just had a pretty sucky first playtest run and is seriously doubting their d10 systems and other stuff?

If you're feeling down after a playtest, it seriously could be some imposter syndrome creeping up on you. And you're not alone there! I get it all the time, and I know plenty of other people do too. So I'd just take a breather, give yourself some space, and then look at things with some fresh eyes. Chances are your stuff is better than you think it is.

If you're worried about the mechanics of a game just not working, that's also okay! Sometimes things don't end up working. If you think this is the case, then trying to look at things as objectively as possible and figuring out what exactly didn't work and going from there. It might end up being a "kill your darlings" situation, where cutting something makes everything else fit together better. I have definitely been in that spot plenty of times.

Design is always going to be iterative. Identifying what works and what doesn't work is a process. But going through that process is going to improve your work each and every time. Sometimes you can jump right into that process, honing, cutting, reworking things until it ends up falling into place. Other times you have to give the work some time to breathe, maybe working on something else in the meantime until you feel that lightbulb moment!

I know for me at least, sitting down with other games and trying to figure out what I like about them and what makes those things I like actually work is a huge part of the process.

Also playtests are a whole thing unto themselves! Playtests can be super useful at different stages of a game, whether testing a proof-of-concept idea, or something later on that needs finer tuning. But figuring out how to gather useful data from those playtests can be tricky!

If you're testing something super early, I think it's more useful to do a super loose playtest. You don't need the whole game done, just the specific thing you want to stress test. Games almost always have multiple moving parts, so testing one thing at a time and then going back and adjusting it, might be easier than trying to finagle a whole game.

Game design, just like writing, art, music, and basically everything else, is a skill that grows as you practice. It's okay to drop a project that just isn't working out. Down the road, you might even come back to it with a better idea of how to make it work! The amount of half-finished and paused projects I personally have is, a lot. A little contradictory to that last point, but it's also important to finish things! There's a point when it's best to just go "good enough!", stamp "finished on it" and start work on the next thing.

I think the most heartening thing I can say is that, we've all been in your position! But don't let that doubt stop you!

If you ever want to talk more specifics about game design, just give me a shout too!

[pungentdarling]

The Pungent Darling

Hello world!! The Pungent Darling is run by Michelle. Trying to fight imposter syndrome one post at a time. If it were up to me I’d only be going by Pungent Darling, but my mom insisted on me keeping my name in here somewhere. This was after I lectured her on why someone would choose to write with a pen name. I told her mine was for the anxiety of putting myself out into the world. This is terrifying!! But still she persisted. So, here we are, welcome to the blog where thoughts, opinions, creativity, reviews and rants will be held. Light a candle, grab some snacks and don’t forget a drink, this is going to be a post about my background to make me feel legit on why I deserve to start a blog.

If you know me, you know how much I constantly talk about “when I start my fashion / music blog,” or “when I interview [any celebrity] I’m going to ask them…” One of my brothers once told me “I’ll let you interview me when you’ve got the story” haha, harsh!! What can I say, I’m a dreamer with my head in the clouds. While I was up in the clouds letting my mind wander I started to remember all the things I did before I shut off my creativity. I stopped having goals for myself and ended up in the ether untied to anything. I’m starting to ground myself again and walk the talk.   

I used to have a tumblr blog of pictures I would take of bands at their concerts, some with a photo pass, some from the crowd. It was a blast!! But I forgot the login, so that is a chapter of my life I won’t be able to edit. The feeling of adrenaline while photographing a band between the stage and barricades is wild. The screaming fans behind you while you’re photographing each band member feels like they’re cheering you on. I always wondered if the musicians could see me smiling (I tried to photograph my favorite bands at that time so this was a big wonder and wishful thinking.) I'd also be singing their songs as my face was shield by my camera (always wanting to stay out of the way and observe.) Shout out to my plethora of Canons, thank you for getting me into places!! This was a very fun and cool part of my life, I wish I would’ve stuck it out, but imposter syndrome and lack of passion will make you stop doing anything. It sucks when it was the only thing you’ve built your personality around.  

DiD sHe Go To CoLlEgE?! YUP!! I graduated with a bachelor's degree in arts, majoring in Broadcasting and Journalism minoring in Apparel and Textile Merchandising. I shit you not, those exact lengthy ass words are on my degree!! This school is not worth mentioning and I’m still mad at myself for going there. Words of advice don’t go to a college just because it’s the cheapest state school and the school colors were your favorite complimentary color combo. I’ve always had a love / hate relationship when it comes to this section of my life. Through all the pain, came things I’ve learned that will stick with me for life, the good and the bad. 

My vision for this page is to share experiences and things that I think are cool. Basically all the things I love and want to share; traveling and checking out new local places, sometimes a quick day trip! Two hours one way isn’t that far if it seems worth it, in my humble opinion. I want to share what I’m reading and cooking; concert reviews; travel logs; grief; fashion things; music interest and food places. I’m not going to limit / force myself on the length of the post like I would in the past, maybe that is why my previous writing / blogging endeavors never worked out. Third times the charm!!

Please enjoy this picture of me in a very weird time of my life, but looking at it now it’s one of my favorite pictures of myself. It embodies the chaos that is The Pungent Darling. I can’t wait to see where this blog goes, all I want is to keep evolving and sticking to my boundaries. 

Xoxo,

The Pungent Darling 

[sharkiegorath]

bleugheugheughugh

About two weeks ago, my reverse hanahaki story was accepted by a magazine I really like. I was happy about it for about a week. Yet I'm stuck in a doom loop over a different story's revision and resubmission, for a different magazine. Insane behavior. Anyway.

GOOD THINGS:

The editors are kind and experienced. The edit letter is really nice. It stresses that they don't want to make changes that I don't want, etc. I've only ever heard good things about them. They even had the opportunity to act Twitter brainpoisoned at one point, and they didn't.

The editors' questions are thoughtful. And I'm one of those writers who enjoys analyzing their own work and talking about it.

This story is special to me in an unhinged way and I want it to be its best version.

I like the magazine. I love one particular story they've published. In all its years of existence I've never read a story in this magazine where I've seen glaring issues and went "why was this published at all????", unlike one or two big names.

The pay is not only the recommended rate but higher than the standard (and through developmental editing I'm adding to the word count, on their suggestion.)

I like the assigned editor as a person and they're from a similar background, which is pretty crucial to the story. I actually briefly spoke to them during a volunteer thing in April so I 'know' their vibes.

There's no real deadline, just a January goal to work towards.

It's good to have new experiences!!!

NEGATIVE FEELINGS:

General imposter syndrome feelings of "it seems this wasn't perfect, looks like I have to crawl into a hole and die now".

It's taking up time and mental energy I'd prefer to use to write other things, especially with important deadlines mid-December and January.

There's no guarantee the story will be accepted for publication even if I spend all that time and effort revising.

It's a story ABOUT alienation and the cycle of abuse OF COURSE I'm going to feel fucking weird explaining and dissecting it, especially parts I wrote as The Point, which apparently weren't clear enough.

I feel bad about being told it's "not ready to publish" because this exact version made it to the final round of a dream magazine I love, with no feedback, overseen by a guest editor I wanted to impress.

I've never done something like this before. The first time I worked with an editor, I reverted almost all of his changes because they were objectively wrong. My second piece was barely edited and I didn't even have to look at it before publication. And I don't like having new experiences in November. The last time I enjoyed a new experience in November was 2011.

I absolutely hate feeling like I'm being guided or mentored, because throughout my childhood, adults failed to do that, and as an adult I've done most Meaningful Tasks on my own. I automatically feel patronized and condescended to when someone wants to help me from a position of perceived power. The advice I've received, while not always hurtful or dangerous, usually wasn't useful. It ranges from overall positive relationships (parents, first boss) to neutral (first editor, volunteer work supervisors) to outright bad (teachers, church, adult fandom BNF's as a teen????) My absolute first knee-jerk response to unsolicited or 'mandatory' guidance is "oh, great, another fucking problem"

Because of this particular magazine's mission and history, I cynically wonder if I'm being viewed as a charity project or scrappy underdog or something.

oh yeah sure I'll analyze my work but I HATE BEING PERCEIVED I HATE BEING PERCEIVED I HATE BEING PERCEIVED NO PERCEPTION ONLY THE ART DO NOT LOOK AT ME DO NOT TALK TO ME

Basically it's become a locus of negative feelings about community and culture and The Industry, through no fault of the magazine's own.

[historicalfightingguide]

"Dr. Lisa Orbé-Austin, Psychologist and Fencing Parent, on Impostor Syndrome and Upping a Fencer’s Mental Game"

"EPISODE SUMMARY

Today we're diving into the mental side of the sport, focusing on a common yet often overlooked struggle: impostor syndrome. We're thrilled to welcome Dr. Lisa Orbe-Austin, a licensed psychologist and renowned executive coach, who's made tremendous strides in tackling impostor syndrome, diversity, equity and inclusion, and effective communication within various organizations and educational institutions.

EPISODE NOTES

Today we're diving into the mental side of the sport, focusing on a common yet often overlooked struggle: impostor syndrome.

We're thrilled to welcome Dr. Lisa Orbe-Austin, a licensed psychologist and renowned executive coach, who's made tremendous strides in tackling impostor syndrome, diversity, equity and inclusion, and effective communication within various organizations and educational institutions.

The author of two insightful books, 'Own Your Greatness' and 'Your Unstoppable Greatness,' she’s an expert in overcoming impostor syndrome and navigating toxic or unsupportive work cultures.

In addition to her professional accomplishments, Dr. Orbe-Austin also brings a unique perspective to our discussion today - she's a parent to two budding fencers. Let's delve into her rich professional insights and her firsthand experiences from the fencing world. 

Visit Dr. Orbe-Austin's site 

Read a transcript for this episode"

"In each episode, we’ll talk to someone interesting within the fencing world, including young fencers just learning the sport, coaches, experts from outside of fencing, fencing parents, referees, Olympians and Paralympians, and many more. Ready? Set? Fence!"

So while this podcast is obviously geared directly towards olympic fencers the fact is that there's plenty of folks in historical fencing that deal with imposter syndrome, parenting and similar related issues and that pretty much every fencer out there can keep working on their mental game.

For anyone who hasn’t yet seen the following links:

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Some advice on how to start studying the sources generally can be found in these older posts

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Remember to check out  A Guide to Starting a Liberation Martial Arts Gym as it may help with your own club/gym/dojo/school culture and approach.Check out their curriculum too.

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Fear is the Mind Killer: How to Build a Training Culture that Fosters Strength and Resilience by   Kajetan Sadowski   may be relevant as well.

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“How We Learn to Move: A Revolution in the Way We Coach & Practice Sports Skills”  by Rob Gray  as well as this post that goes over the basics of his constraints lead, ecological approach.

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Another useful book to check out is  The Theory and Practice of Historical European Martial Arts (while about HEMA, a lot of it is applicable to other historical martial arts clubs dealing with research and recreation of old fighting systems).

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Trauma informed coaching and why it matters

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Look at the previous posts in relation to running and cardio to learn how that relates to historical fencing.

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Why having a systematic approach to training can be beneficial

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Why we may not want one attack 10 000 times, nor 10 000 attacks done once, but a third option.

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How consent and opting in function and why it matters.

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More on tactics in fencing

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Open vs closed skills

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The three primary factors to safety within historical fencing

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Worth checking out are this blogs tags on pedagogy and teaching for other related useful posts.

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And if you train any weapon based form of historical fencing check out the ‘HEMA game archive’ where you can find a plethora of different drills, focused sparring and game options to use for effective, useful and fun training.

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Check out the cool hemabookshelf facsimile project.

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For more on how to use youtube content for learning historical fencing I suggest checking out these older posts on the concept of video study of sparring and tournament footage.

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Consider getting some patches of this sort or these cool rashguards to show support for good causes or a t-shirt like to send a good message while at training.