#because of the overwhelming feeling of shame and guilt

[sadfoxedkiddo]

what a weird feeling when someone tells you "I am really happy to talk to you again" after a small break (2 weeks is nothing compared to what breaks usually happen between me and people - months and years)

because I'm used to being the one thanking them for still remembering me and wanting to talk to me even after I pull those disappearance moves on them from time to time.

[owlbelly]

showing up to anti-zionist community rosh hashanah services tonight like "hello i am ready to weep & maybe do some arson. does anybody want to burn anything down"

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[there-will-be-a-way]

I have another outing tomorrow. Been avoiding outing myself to this friend for far too long out of fear it might change our relationship. But he deserves to know - and I gotta put some trust in the fact that he cares about me enough to support me being trans. It's so nerve wracking though *screams*

[blujayonthewing]

desire to roleplay authentically when my character has traits that can come across as difficult or frustrating vs irl intense fear and terror of ever being difficult or frustrating FIGHT

[the-hanged-mans-ghost]

vent-ish rambling in the notes ig bc I can't think and my brain is fuzzy but I have Thoughts

[twihs-blog]

Guilt and Shame:

A few months ago I wrote the below post on my journey of sobriety. Making my sobriety public was never what I had envisioned when I went crawling into AA defeated. I’ve been thinking a lot recently on my journey as a human being on this planet. It’s a beautiful thing. I’ve been thinking a lot on guilt and shame surrounding my slip up and I suppose I wanted to share with you more on that.

I have been invited to a recovery house in America to help them raise awareness and money for their charity. I of course jumped at the chance, after all, giving back is what we are lead to do. I would be lying though if I said I wasn’t terrified. 

The fear of admitting fault of feeling like I let down those around me. Writing this is terrifying but I’m trying to push myself out of my comfort zone and become more attune with me and what my higher power want’s me to do.

I suppose ultimately I want to share this with you as I’ve already opened the door to this part of my life and it seems vital that I continue to do so.

Fear is at the root cause of so many issues regarding addiction in my experience. 

I still have anxiety, yesterday I took the tube to see some friends and had to leave half way through my journey due to the overwhelming feeling that I may at any second pass out. Even at dinner this feeling was hard to shake. It’s hard to describe. I walk out on to a stage to talk with you all or play music or act and I feel little of this, however in daily life it can creep in so quickly. 

Whilst my consumption of marajuana wasn’t what I would call habitual I recognize that it was a poor attempt at controlling my own feelings, anxiety’s and stressors. Which is backwards because it wasn’t exactly helping with those things either as they still were there regardless.

Living the life I am fortunate enough to live now I recognize those things and how I respond to them now is with choice. 

I suppose writing this is an exercise in digging in, in recognizing the feelings of guilt and shame, in owning up to myself and to my world. 

The last thing I ever want to be doing is walking out in to my world with a lie. 

It’s hard to know how to end this post. I suppose a thank you would be appropriate, I have a deep love for the world and for people in it. I have a love for my world and my higher power and I was very much moved to write this.

With love.

Jamie

[sun-kissy]

still here | r.l.

summary: it's your birthday :(

a/n: this is the first time i’ve ever really cried when writing something, it’s got a home in my heart now and i hope you like it!! 🫶 (also listen to our lovely girl billie while reading for added heartbreak)

tw: past suicide attempt

You lean back on the couch from where you’re bending over the table. Remus wastes no time in wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. He gently presses his lips to your forehead. “Happy birthday, lovely girl.”

“Thank you,” you mumble half-heartedly, grateful but too overwhelmed to show it. 

There’s a cut-up chocolate cake in front of you, which Remus had insisted upon baking. He’d honoured your wishes not to throw a big bash, and of not wanting an actual present. He didn’t exactly understand why — but he loved you too much to not do what you wanted him to; birthday or not.

Guilt weighs heavily on your heart; Remus has been kinder than you deserve. You decide to help him understand.

“You know,” you start softly, tilting your head to lay it on his shoulder. He hums in acknowledgement, fingertips grazing your sleeve as he starts to rub your arm. “I didn’t think I would last this long.”

The shakiness in your voice surprises even you. You feel Remus’ hand still on your arm. 

“What?” he murmurs. You can’t decipher if the slight lilt to his voice is because of sadness or confusion.

“I didn’t think I would last this long,” you repeat quietly, just to be safe, and you feel his hand coasting across your back as he gently grabs your shoulders. He turns you towards him, and you don’t wait for him to ask before you start to explain. “When I was 13, I couldn’t imagine ever making it this far. I tried to kill myself.”

Remus’ eyes widen the slightest bit as he takes in your sudden admission. His grip on your shoulders doesn’t falter; and it’s like you both know he’s the only thing holding you upright. 

When he doesn’t respond, your gaze immediately drops to the couch, shame clouding your eyes.

“I… I didn’t know that.”

The crack in his voice makes you look back up, meeting his gaze. His features are softer, sadder; somehow. There’s the slightest bit of grief in the way he’s regarding you. “Are you glad you made it this far?”

You rub your lips together, taking a shaky breath to make sure your voice comes out evenly. “Yeah,” you exhale softly. “Yeah, I am. I got to meet you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“No,” you reply honestly. “I love my work. My friends, I really like hanging out with them. And I’d say our apartment is pretty sweet.”

The concern in Remus’ expression is still evident, his brows pinched together almost painfully. His hands bunch up the fabric on your shoulders, tugging you towards him. You’re certain the action is subconscious – he looks lost in thought, like he’s deliberating wrapping you up in his arms and never letting you go.

“Would you like more reasons?” you ask quietly, feeling your vision start to blur. You shouldn’t be surprised that he cares this much, but you are.

When he nods, your heart melts – the magma seems to be pooling in your stomach, and you feel the kind of warmth you’ve only ever been able to feel since you met him.

“Okay,” you decide to indulge him. “I like coffee when I wake up, especially when you make it. Feeding the stray dogs on the side of the road every morning. And my guitar, I like to make music on it. I think music is nice.”

You feel your throat start to clog up, the image of Remus distorting into a blurry swirl in your eyes. “It’s lovely when it rains, especially when we’re both at home, cuddling. And –”

Your voice comes out wobbly, the tears coming hard and fast now. You want to stop, but push on for his sake.

“And I really like our apartment. Did I mention that? Also, your hugs – I love the way you hug. It’s like you really love me, and —”

“I do love you,” Remus interrupts in a shaky exhale, words barely audible from the way his voice is trembling. “I love you, okay? I love you a whole lot. And I’m so glad you’re still with me.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, gently pulling you even closer towards him. You meet him in the middle, arms instinctively wrapping around his waist as he brings his hands up to encircle your shoulders.

Remus squeezes you like it’s his job to hold you together, and you hear a soft sniffle as he buries his face in your hair. 

“I’m so glad you’re still here,” he says again. Your heart clenches in your chest, in all the best ways.

“I love you,” you respond, because you both know it’s synonymous with Thank you for giving me a reason to be here.

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲.. 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭.. 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮.❞

Which sex position is your future lover’s favorite and why? (Detailed)

Masterlist

Author's note,

It's been a while since I last posted, hi everyone. I hope you enjoy your Christmas coming up!

Divider

Pile I.

“I want to devour the sweet nectar of the sin that lies beneath me. To feel it dripping on the sin of my fingertips, the graze that will melt us into ecstasy burning in the brain of our subconscious, such a beauty that I only get to see—for how lucky I am.. a lucky bastard.. that I am.”

Your future lover’s energy puts me in a calm trance, the calmest one could be. I feel like I am sleeping or walking on a path of water that will lead me to paradise. They are so soft with you, their love, or shall I say devotion, to you is something they cherished tremendously, and they could not bear losing that with you. To lose you would simply be their death, and they cannot have that done, and that is why their favorite sex position is all over the place. They do not have one and could never dare; they want to feel you everywhere, in every position, and want to see your beautiful face move and show pure pleasure as they please you with the utmost respect. “That is something you deserve, you deserve the utmost respect one could bear, and that is the one thing you never have to ask or prove with me—it will be with you the minute you are my lover, though I am sorry it was not done when we were fighting.”

Enemies to lovers, or rivals to lovers, is your trope with them. You honestly made them want to fall in love, and made them understand what it was to actually love. Their ex, (or multiple, energies are flying around like crazy), were nasty. That’s really it, so awful, but they used that to improve on what they wanted, which was building walls around until you had the audacity to break them and make them fall for you, “shame on you!’’

(I can feel them next to me, they are so animated, so damn loving, it’s like they want to grab you right here and right now and pull you to their future).

Aside from your “audacity,” they are very happy that you did because they were spiraling into something darker and started to use something dangerous, not illegal or self-harming (it’s not my place to tell you), as a coping mechanism, yet now.. you are their drug. Not literally, but you basically saved them from this impending doom of shame and guilt. I believe you should get ready to heal your inner child (even if you have) with them because they will be spoiling you .. like crazy, maybe a bit too much? I see a vision with an insane amount of gifts, teddy bears, jewelry, sports gear, food, or something to do with your religion. Also art supplies or crystals that are insanely expensive, but if it is for you, then “fuck it, right?” That is how their attitude is with you.

Ten of wands.

I took a break because something was missing from them, and they could not tell me. Meaning they kept focusing on the positive aspects when it comes to your relationship and sex with you. However, with the ten of wands, they actually do not know how to have a favorite sexual position. In a way, they thought it was off-putting that others always picked a favorite; if you picked a favorite, then you lost the chance to explore around and make your lover feel sexual pleasure. So, intuition tells me they feel overburdened and overwhelmed picking a favorite, but at the same time, they feel pressured to pick one.

They know that you would not give a damn whether or not they had one, but their colleagues, co-workers, a boss, or some type of group pops up with how they think about sex, and it is affecting your future lover right now, and when you meet; they will feel insecure throughout your sexual journey with you thus why the relationship with them will be enemies or rivals to lovers. I believe it's peer pressure with them. My intuition tells me this is the reason why you saved them and why they would do anything for you.

I feel a lot of anxious energy with them, a part of me wants to hug them and tell them they are okay, okay to love and show their pleasure in their own way, but I already know this is how you feel with them and what you will tell them. And when you do, they will confess you saved them.

As I was editing, I had to give you a message and also saw 777. Listen here. You are absolutely allowed to love whoever you want, you are allowed to be spoiled and pampered, you are allowed to be kissed in the most romantic ways, and you are allowed to have someone help you take showers. No, this person will not treat you in a bad way because you struggle with mental health problems. And no, they will not let anyone laugh at you even when you guys are not together because you do not deserve that, and they also think someone who does that is a "fucking asshole.'' You are so so so .. and many so worthy of love and I hope each day you tell yourself that, because it is true or else I would not have said it nor left this message, understood? Allow yourself to have the happiness you deserve and stop being your own blockage because, at the end of the day, it is not worth it, and seeing you struggle to have your happiness, do you think your kid self would like that? Would that be okay with them or is that okay—to have yourself struggling to make amends with your past, forcefully giving yourself guilt for something that should have been forgiven a long time ago? Let it go, it is seriously okay, let it go. Yes, what you did was awful, and should not have happened with them, but let it go and do and become better for the mistakes you caused and for yourself so it does not happen again. So as I said before, if I didn't mean it, I would not have mentioned it in your pile, so let it go.

Masterlist

Pile II.

Your future lover's favorite sex position is face sitting. They love, and I mean this very heavily, love eating you out, giving you oral, sucking you off, whatever the case is, they are very addicted to your private parts. “All you, all you, and .. all you, you are so fucking delicious baby, fuckkkkk.” I see a scene where they are covered in your juices, your cum, everything about you, and they are still eating you out as you grab their arms, body parts, or hair. Gripping for dear life, begging for relief, but nothing happens other than using their tongue in or on you faster, swirling it until it hits that sensitive spot of yours and, as well, as they are filled to the brim with your essence. The whole idea of eating dessert does not appeal to them UNTIL it is yours.

I hope you are ready for a very smutty scene since I cannot channel anymore other than their fantasies.. for you. I will address you as Y/N (your name), and them as F/L (future lover).

Scene A)

Your F/L will grab your leg and flip you over as they crawl towards your body, grabbing your skin to feel your skin. To feel the heat of your body because of how aroused you are. They will crawl towards your lips and greedily suck your top lips, nibbling the bottom to feel the taste from the last meal you ate, and chew softly. Then they will roughly thrust their tongue into your lips, sucking and grazing their tongue on yours and your teeth; they want to feel everything about you. Then they will pull out, grope your jaw and spit into your mouth as they crawl down and then sensually drag their tongue down to your chest area, sucking on them, and then to your private part as they blow air on it, seeing you twitch, whimper, groan, moan, etc. They will lean down and then give you oral.

Scene B)

Y/N is focused on doing their work, finishing up a coming project, and their deadline is coming within a week or two. F/L comes waltzing in as if they own the place and gazes at Y/N, smirking at their inconvenience. Though it would have been better if they could have helped Y/N, but no, it did not fit their shenanigans or their agenda. They stride over to Y/N as they massaged Y/N's shoulder, building trust with them. Once gaining their trust, they forcefully kiss Y/N, tasting their sweet nectar and feeling their tension dropping down until they remember their work as they push away F/L. But no, you would assume F/L will hold back and respect that push, yet they will not (still consent here). F/L will pick Y/N over their shoulder despite the weight of Y/N, and walk towards a countertop or over a table and bend them over. F/L will look at Y/N, and undress them as they crouch down and tease Y/N’s undergarment until they see a wet spot and then take it off only to tease Y/N with a toy, waiting for them to release but not cum since it is not allowed.

It will last for 2 hours straight, and once Y/N has had enough, they will face Y/N over their shoulders, similar to someone sitting on someone’s shoulder, only in this case, Y/N is sitting in front of F/L. F/L will suck or eat out Y/N until they are cumming over.. and over again and sobbing for F/L to stop. But it will not happen until Y/N uses their safe word(s) and once that does happen, pampering aftercare will erupt and leave Y/N comforted to the highest degree possible. With an insane amount of kisses, "because you deserve that and you deserve me to eat you out more!''

Masterlist

[mauvecherie-writes]

ru’s 💌: this is a test run! An idea I had brewing. I will build up around this scene as it will be a coming story in the new year. everything I had planned to post over the Christmas break, I’m hoping to post it all before the end of January. Love you all 🩷.

current title: tell me lies (could possibly change in the future)

w.c: 2.39K

warning: NSFW 18+, explicit sexual content described, cheating, morally grey characters. NOT EDITED

You were wondering how you ended up with your legs on his shoulders as he dug deeper into you. He was hitting your spot over, and over until you created a puddle beneath your flesh.

Your skin was drenched in sweat as lust drove your bodies to move in perfect tandem. He was touching all of the right spots in the most perfect of ways.

How you ended up with his hand around your neck as he whispered the dirtiest things in your ear, you’ll never truly understand but you were enjoying it.

“Baby��” You gasped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he sucked on your neck, his free curls brushing against your skin.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He lifted his head from your neck and looked down at you. The curls framing his angelic face despite the lustful wickedness glazing his eyes. You tugged at his growing goatee and pulled him down for a kiss.

“Why are you fucking me like this?” You looked into his eyes as you spoke against his lips.

“Because you wanted keep to playing games with me knowing how I feel about you. This is just the beginning of your punishment, YN.”

You gasped out loud as the memory of that fateful night took a hold of you. You had been trying to forget about the way he handled you, folded you and kissed you. It was the devil on your shoulder that led you to temptation in your darkest moments.

A moment of weakness. You told yourself.

A very bad argument with your fiancé led you into the arms of the worst possible person to find comfort in, his best friend.

The very friend who you knew had feelings for you.

He was saying all of the right words, doing the rights things. It was just a moment of weakness you self soothed.

It was never going to happen again.

The stress was wearing you thin as you pondered over how you were going to move on from this. Your fiancé, Zander was out of the country on a contract building a new resort for the company he worked for. You were missing him and Zander was missing you too but for some reason did not want you flying out to see him even for a weekend. It frustrated you to no end how much he was resisting your presence.

You were angry and you needed to vent. The only person who seemed to be in reach was Lewis. Zander’s best friend. The very friend who you knew liked you in more than a platonic way but chose to reserve his feelings.

And now that friend knew you intimately and so passionately that you were afraid of the feelings that he evoked out of you that night. You made noises that you never knew you could make, you said things that you had never said, made you do things you’d never done before.

“Yessss, suck that dick baby.“ Lewis groaned as he moved your hair out of the way. “You look perfect just like this.”

You snatched the bottle of wine in front of you and poured the rest of the beverage into your glass. You downed half of it as fast as you could, trying to blur the memories of that night away.

They had consumed you. Overwhelmed you and had you so lost that you had to call in sick for the past few days.

It wasn’t guilt that you felt. No - there was no guilt in your actions. The feeling was the heavy burden of shame. The shame of how much you enjoyed it. How much you loved the way he used you for his pleasure. The pure shame of how much you wanted to do it again.

And that made you afraid.

As you sat on your couch, the thoughts of that night took hold once more. The difference in how each man handled you had never been more stark. Zander loved treating you like you were fragile, a treasure to be cherished - as much as you liked the way he loved on you, sometimes you wanted things a little rougher. A little more degrading and Zander never wanted to do those things.

But Lewis did.

He pulled, he slapped, he spat, he choked. He did it all. And you fucking loved it. Because he knew you could handle it. He knew you could take it all and give it back.

No. NO!

You needed to stop this. Reminiscing on the memories of one night that could not happen again was not good for you. You had already wasted enough time and you could not do this anymore.

With the last sip of your wine, you stood up from your couch and began to keep your hands busy. You cleaned the kitchen and began to cook. You got so lost in the preparation that you almost didn’t hear the doorbell ring.

You whipped your head and looked at the security feed of the front door. Your breathing dropped as it dawned onto you who was standing there. You slowly washed your hands as you watched him press the intercom.

“I know you’re in there, sweetheart. I can smell your cooking.” His smooth and rich voice melted you through the speakers.

You wiped your hands and pressed on the microphone button on the security screen. “Go away, Lewis. I don’t want to talk.”

“Then you can listen to what I have to say.”

You took a deep breath as you tried to weigh in your options. You had been avoiding his calls and texts for close to three weeks now, thinking it would help but in his absence, your imposed solitude caused your heart to yearn for more than it should.

How greedy of you.

“You can’t keep avoiding me YN. We’re going to need to at least be on the same page before Zander comes back.”

He was right. You needed to be aligned in the timelines of things, you thought.

That thought led you to opening your door. His presence was immediately felt as he crowded your space. The longer he looked down at you, the more the last of your resolve melted. Before he even came knocking, you knew that when facing Lewis, you were weak.

“You’re only here to talk right? And then you’ll go?” You licked your lips as you watched his draw into a smirk.

“If talking is all that you want to do then that’s all that we’ll do, sweetheart.” The saying of his preferred nickname for you caused your stomach to clench.

You took a deep breath and moved aside to let him through. Closing the door behind you was a seal of fate. Another bad decision being made.

You just couldn’t help yourself.

The both of you ended up in the kitchen, a plate of lentil curry in front of him half eaten with his whiskey glass sitting empty on the island counter.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” He finally spoke up. Your hip leaned into the side of the kitchen counter as you tried to figure out what to say.

“There’s no need for us to get our story straight right? It’s just going to be a one time thing.”

“YN…”

“No, Lewis. Let’s be good people. It was a moment of weakness in the heat of the moment. And as good as it was, it can’t happen again.”

“And why not?” Lewis asked as he stood up and crossed the island towards you. “You loved it as much as I did.”

“Because I am your best friend’s fiancé!” You exclaimed as you rubbed against your forehead. “That should mean something to you!”

“But it doesn’t! You think him being my friend was going to stop me when you were right there in my arms practically begging me.”

You ignored the last part of his statement. “Maybe your conscious should! You don’t do this type of stuff. I don’t do this.” You exhausted as you tired to place some distance between your bodies. However, Lewis grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into him. You gasped as you braced yourself on his chest, your fingers curling to grab onto the fabric of his sweatshirt.

“You think now, that I’ve had a taste of you that I’ll just stop and walk away?” He expressed as he raised his eyebrow as he licked his lips at the sight of your softly rising chest and parted lips.

“You had all night to do what you wanted with me and you did. We didn’t stop until the morning … that should have satisfied you.”

“But it didn’t. You left me wanting more of you. You left me craving. You left me a greedy man , YN.”

“Kill that greed. You can’t want more. Not with me.” You whispered as you felt his hands begin to travel up the length of your back and push you closer to him. A sigh left your lips as his head dipped around and kissed the nape of your neck.

“I need more of you.” He murmured as he shifted your positions so that your back was pressed against the island with his arms on either side of your body, trapping you in.

“Tell me that you don’t think about us.” He forced you to look into his eyes by angling you upwards by the tip of your chin. His eyes held the same desire that they held that fateful night. You unconsciously licked your lips as you felt the heat of his stare.

“I don’t.” You lied, shaking your head as if to get rid of the memories fogging your thoughts. As if to detect your lies, Lewis smirked.

“I do.” He admitted. “I think about the way that you felt beneath me. The way you felt so good wrapped around me. The way you said my name.”

“Lewis..” You whimpered.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “You said it just like that.” His hands squeezed your hips in response.

“We can’t.” You mumbled as your eyes closed, embracing his hold. He chuckled and the sound rang wonderfully in your ears. He knew that you were not going to put up a fight. You had come to terms with the reality that you wanted more of this, more of him.

“Why not?” He whispered into your ear as he began to place soft kisses onto your skin. “Humour me.”

“It’s going to hurt Zander if he finds out.” You gasped as he sucked harder on your skin.

“Then let’s make sure that he doesn’t find out.”

“The wedding is in two months.” You further argued.

“You won’t make it down that aisle.” He spoke with conviction.

“Why not?” You frowned as you pushed him away from your neck to meet his eyes.

Deviance was all you could see swirling within the whirls of brown. There was more that you could see. The longing that had been lying dormant until now pushing towards the surface.

“That night you met Zander, it was me that you saw first and our eyes locked and it felt like forever. Do you remember?” You nodded your head in agreement. “You captured me then and you’ve let go since. My biggest regret was letting Zander approach you and letting things get this far. I thought it was too late for me and that I wouldn’t be able to stop him.” His confession caused your heart to beat faster. Realisations dawning onto you as you confronted the feelings within that you had long buried.

“That night we shared together gave me my opening. I won’t let that opening close YN. You know that there’s something undeniable between us. That’s why you don’t fight me. That’s why you won’t walk down that aisle.”

“How can you be so sure?” You questioned. You held his gaze as he picked you up and placed you on top of the counter with his body wedged in between your legs.

Your heart was thumping in your chest as you stared down at his lips. Time seemed to have frozen around you, the only sound being heard was the humming of the fridge along with your heavy breathing.

“I’m sure because I’m in between your legs right now. Your head is leaning forward, silently begging for me to kiss you. Your body is answering the questions your mind and heart already know.”

Lewis didn’t move any further, he was waiting for you, waiting for you to make the final move.

You leaned forward. He did the same.

The distance between you disappeared and when your lips were a hair’s breadth away, you stopped.

“This stays between us until I can end things with him.”

Lewis softly smiled. “No one will ever know.” He muttered against your lips.

You then shut your eyes and pressed your mouth against his. His lips were as soft as you remembered and your moans blended together into a tune, a blissful symphony to be caged within your memories. Your heart pounded in your chest as he slid his tongue between the seam of your lips and into your mouth.

A noise left you as you exhaled, your hands went around his neck as the kiss deepened. Your tongues twisted and twirled, a dance to the sounds you expelled. Your pussy clenched, trembling with need as he thrusted his hips forward, rubbing himself against you.

Lewis cradled your face in his hands as you hungered for the taste of his tongue before meshing your lips once more.

“One rule.” You said as you pulled away.

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“We’ll never use the master bedroom here.”

Lewis groaned as he rolled his eyes. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“We’re already crossing a massive line by doing this. The sanctity of that room is one I don’t want to cross.” He chuckled at your justification as he carried you in his arms to the guest room that he often used.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have our own master bedroom soon and I’ll fuck you on every inch of it.”

You giggled at his optimism. Your attraction was magnetic and it was explosive. The rational part of you knew that this, what was happening, would crash and burn. But the irrational part of your mind was stuck in the moment with him and you wanted it all.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @cocobutterqwueen @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @laneywrld @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel @hotfudgeslug @iamryanl @pickingupmymercedes @eleetalks @ambs-06 @annisassintchaska @boujiestpoet @nayaesworld @nat-lh-44 @mochachocolatteyaya @melaninpov @kindan3rdy951 @elyseesarchive @sl33p-deprived-princess @soiguessimtheshit @acidlv @trinitoldyouso @gwenda-fav

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

All these ADHD success stories have me in tears because that could have been me, and sometimes it was me, but I still couldn't make it. Three years of attempting the same two semesters, countless meetings with counselors and support services and professors, med dosage increases, mental breakdowns, love and support from a classmate who unofficially adopted me (who I haven't spoken to since I dropped out)... Nothing to show for it but burnout and trauma.

Can it ever get better from here? I feel hopeless.

I'm so sorry. I'm not sure people realise just how fractured your self-esteem becomes when you fail out of an academic course; it properly haunts you, and for a long time afterwards.

I failed my first degree thanks to my own undiagnosed ADHD. I have a very typical story among our people - female, high-achieving in high school, fell apart in university. It was my second year where everything suddenly went wrong. I did not turn in a single assignment on time. I physically, mechanically, could not get myself to write them until the night before the final two-weeks-late deadline, when I'd have to pull an all-nighter and hate life and myself and eventually hand it in in the morning and then sleep for the rest of the day. My attendance was utterly appalling, particularly for a 9am lecture; trying to get up at 8 was a task roughly equivalent to trying to walk on water. I had to resit the exams I'd failed every summer. A particular low point was missing an exam because I didn't realise I even had it; I'd attended so few lectures that I hadn't heard the lecturer say it existed. I remember lying in bed at night and crying, full on sobbing, because I knew something was wrong with me but I didn't know what had happened. I'd always been so good at this, always had such good grades; it was part of my identity, both for myself and how others saw me.

And like. What else can you blame that on? What other explanation is there, other than 'laziness'?

I did better in my third year; I was determined to attend, and get assignments done. I was better; though still a long way from perfect. But so much damage had been done by then. I had better marks, but there was one single module whose assignment I passed but whose exam I failed; I just needed to resit the exam.

And I simply couldn't bring myself to do it. There was too much shame, too much guilt. I honestly couldn't fathom what the point of even trying was. I was so burnt out and broken by then. And then I had to pick up the pieces afterwards and return to life, surrounded by friends who had made it, with nothing of my own to show.

It was a few years later that I decided to go back to uni and try again. By then, I was doing it for a different reason - I wanted to prove to myself and the world that I could do it, I think. I was a bit older and a bit wiser by then; enough that I chose to be very honest with myself at every step, and could start putting systems in place to succeed. This time, it was a small class, so the lecturers all knew me by name rather than letting me fade into the background; I studied part-time to avoid overwhelm; I altered my own deadlines to be a week early, and I forced myself to write to them.

I think a crucial part was also changing how I viewed the degree, and my attitude to higher ed. Before, I did uni because "That's what you do after school". I saw it as a bigger high school with different teachers, like I HAD to be there and was doing assignments and attending because I HAD to, not because I fundamentally wanted to do the course for its own sake. The second time, I did it properly - I wanted a degree. I wanted a degree in that specific topic. I wanted to improve academically. I read the feedback this time, and applied it to each following assignment.

And, I got into the habit of going into the university computer room every day for a few hours so I could work on my assignments. Other course mates started joining me; one in particular, Chris, who later also got diagnosed with ADHD. I now know we were body doubling, but at the time, we both just saw it as getting into a good habit and working on assignments in a nicer environment.

I finished that degree with a first. Since then, I did a PG Cert with Oxford University, and a post-grad PCET, both of which required the same study-based skillset. Oxford in particular was hard, because the nature of the course was a distance learning one, and that is Very Bad for my ADHD; my brain requires routine and structure and accountability to work. That one gave me mild burnout, actually. But, my point is this:

It absolutely can get better. What that looks like is going to be different for everyone, because you need to be very honest with yourself about what works for you and what doesn't, and then choose a course accordingly; there are also specific types of support that you may need, which may or may not be available.

But you really, really can do it if you can get the right set-up and accommodations.

However, I would be wrong not to add this:

We connect university with intelligence, culturally, and we shouldn't. University is about depth of learning on a particular subject, done within and according to a particular system. Intelligence helps, but other skills are also needed to be able to complete a university degree; and that's not for everyone. You could be more than intelligent enough for it, and it still may be the wrong fit for you. That doesn't mean you're stupid or broken or useless - it just means this isn't the system for you. And there's no shame whatsoever in that.

That may or may not be true of you! We don't know each other, you could be in either bracket. But either way: you are not stupid, or useless, or broken. The system is simply not set up for your personal brain chemistry, any more than a tree-climbing test is set up for a fish. Hopefully any of this ramble is helpful!

[mewguca]

Shame

this is a rather personal piece; it's primarily based on my own struggles

It probably could've been executed better (like having more of the interaction she's agonizing over), but I really wanted to focus on that visceral reaction of shame, guilt, and self-criticism

here's a long ramble I wrote while starting this ...

I realize, perhaps much of the reason certain depictions of moon trigger me so much is due to my own overwhelming shame and guilt. It's a defense mechanism crafted because I yet lack the strength to accept myself. I suppose that's why characters like Five Pebbles are so appealing to me — he is someone I've given the room to express his faults, his flaws, his hatred, his despair, his pain, and all his imperfections... For him to be mean or angry is natural and expected, so it's not as scary to express my negative feelings with him as the instrument. He's not a "good person", after all, so it's fine if he is "bad." His standards aren't as high.

Conversely, because I idealize LTTM so much and connect her to myself, I deny her the same things I deny myself. I do it without even thinking, really...

I've often thought, "but this sort of emotion doesn't really suit her... isn't this sort of projection too self-indulgent? If I made this, it'd be too obvious that my own emotions are bleeding through onto the canvas..."

So, I wonder if she's experienced that same sort of emotional repression. It'd be cathartic, in an unfortunate way. To see someone else struggle to grapple with such things, because they want to be pure and virtuous and not upset others...

It's harder when you spend so much time shaping that perfect, faultless, virtuous sort of image, especially when you do it reflexively. Unconsciously. You're making the pressure for yourself worse, but you can't stop... I'm actually not a very friendly person. I'm actually quite afraid and irritable, and I push people away when they get too close. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I don't want anyone to hate me... I don't want to cause suffering or strife. Sometimes, I wish I could just be a completely passive observer.

But I suppose I'm a human being instead, so I have to accept that. Thanks for reading, I guess. I'm not really looking for emotional support here... I just want to be understood.

[cosycafune]

JEALOUSY; EREN JAEGER:

a summary of this chapter: your boyfriend is mad at you for dismissing him the whole night, chatting away to your puny friend. naturally, he wants to have his way with you — just so your full focus is on him.

a synopsis of acts: smut, rough sex, corruption kink, sadistic tendencies, cumming, creampies, sizing, crying, brat taming and potentially more.

“Eren, please!” You so desperately spewed, your drool inevitably on display whilst Eren’s ample cock laid upon the bottom of your curling stomach.

“Please, what?” Eren bluntly questions you, the largeness of his delicious cock swiftly moving towards the soppiness of your folds.

Eren has sufficiently ruined the entirety of your resolve, mindlessly committing sexual acts that he know would have you eating out the palm of his broad hand. His hand. Not no random man your gaze steers upon, to elicit jealousy within the neglected aspects of him.

Inevitably, Eren knew you were his to indulge in — to stuff the vastness of his cock within and consistently breed you until you’re marked and tinted with a beautiful ivory.

“P-Put it in!” Whimpering, tearing and extremely dazed, you chew your bottom lip with the uttermost shame. Shame as the liveliness in Eren’s viridian, emotion-packed eyes completely admire yet scrutinise the desperation within your choked pleas.

“Why? You spent all day pretending to ignore me, just to talk to that aloof man,” At Eren’s harsh statement, his thick brows furrow before he skims the girth of his cock between your nimble thighs — unable to fathom the concept of not overwhelming and dominating you.

“B-Because I’m yours,” Gulping at your bestowed announcement, your eyes widen as Eren swiftly burrows himself within your cunt — leaving your eyes to widen erratically.

“Say it again,” Loathing the lack of repetition you gift, Eren greedily presses his hips upon your pelvic structure. Cock stricken, your purpose completely flees your lips at the impenetrable closeness of his blessed hips.

“‘M yours! All yours! Ah!” Your melodically generated moans command Eren into beginning to harshly pound within you, yearning to completely break away at the bratty exterior and interior you had settled upon him.

“Then, don’t do that shit again,” Eren grunts out, his eyes lovingly cloudy while he bucks his hips loudly within you — slamming into you at an inhumane pacing.

“F-Fuck! I won’t!” A barely comprehensible mess, you feel the beautiful within Eren’s pace — entwined with unwritten emotions.

Eren’s usually so whiny, so seeing him dominant, complex and riddled with anger heightened your emotions but also played upon your building guilt.

“Say it again!” Eren’s eyes boil and soothe at the concept of you lovingly taking his thick cock, completely overwhelmed and worshipping the heavenly feeling of it all.

“I love you…and I’m yours,” Softening slightly, Eren continues to abuse his reckless pace — his lips instinctively kissing your unchallenged lips.

“I-I love you, too,” Wavering momentarily, Eren lips delicately smother your own — all before he safely buries his head within the crook of your neck.

“Ah!” You harshly moan out, feeling yourself subconsciously cum upon the entirety of his inhumanely-thrusting cock.

“G-Got to be quick, I’ve got a concert soon,” Despite Eren’s suggestion, you innately wrap your toned legs around his sculpted waist — knowing that he’s bound to cum.

“I’d…get you pregnant, just so you’d be all…mine,” Eren chokes out, his delicate breaths laboured before he constructs himself into filling your flowery womb with the soul of his thick, white seed.

“Y-Yes!” Panting with false agreement, you glance into Eren’s strained eyes — drawing him into your homely arms.

“S-Shit,” Carried away, Eren comfortably pulls out of you — glimpsing at you with subtly glassy eyes.

“I’m sorry for making you jealous, Eren,” Apologising so sincerely, you press kisses upon his lips — uncaring for the arrays of cum that spew from your pulsating, abused cunt.

“Just don’t do it again,” Eren groans out, “I love you, though.” Muttering, curling into your hair stroking, Eren relishes all the love that you have embedded within him

“I won’t,” Kissing the crown of his forehead, you apply a kiss upon the top of Eren’s crumpled mind.

—

do not copy my work; all rights reserved. cosycafune, 2024.

[oblique-lane]

idk if youve done it yet but i would actually lose my mind if you did an analysis for demo

Aye aye captain 🫡 Time to overdramatize again!

Let's address Demo's wounds

(Demo's backstory was changed through the years but I'm sticking to the older version because I find it more grounded)

Demoman's story is easily one of the most tragic of all the mercs. Imagine you have been abandoned from birth, your parents simply rejected you for what you are. But luckily you have been adopted by some good people who replaced your parents and made you a relatively happy child.

And then you accidentally kill them. You're 6 years old. How does that feel?

I can't even imagine how a child's brain can't comprehend the idea of being a murderer. It was an accident, of course, they were blown up by a big explosion he created (genius kid found out how to do that, huh?) but still. His parents were dead and he knew it was his own fault. He learned he was dangerous as he is.

How was it like pondering about it in the orphanage?.. "I didn't want this! I want to go back and fix it, I'm so sorry", something like that. But he couldn't go back in time, so being covered in such an avalanche of guilt, he learned he needs to repress himself.

Demo have always had an explosive temper (no pun intended), it was his true nature, pure emotion: if he's happy, it's 100%; if he's angry, it's a full blown storm. If he loves, he loves with all of his heart, and he has a big one.

Living on the impulse, all or nothing, that crucial accident revealed that letting his true nature go will only end up as destruction in the end. Irreparable damage.

We don't know what exactly was happening to him during his orphanage years, but if I'm to guess, repressing everything about him: his interests, his character, his whole nature, was a thing to choose. He thought that he had to become still and quiet as to not to repeat that kind of tragedy ever again. He probably didn't have people to be friends with either, either because people rejected him for his past, or he avoided them himself due to his internalized shame, at least that's a guess.

But everything repressed returns to the surface sooner or later. As a child, living for so long under overwhelming guilt, grief, hate, pain and sadness, under the skies that are almost never sunny in a all-year-long damp and coldness of the Ullapool. Incomprehensibly grey. It was depriving.

He was always fascinated with explosions. He didn't touch it for a long time, but maybe something like seeing fireworks again one day made something inside him tremble... And to remember.

Explosions. Launch... Acceleration... Release. And every time the release happens, his soul fills with excitement, the body feels lighter and shivers go up the spine. Release happens inside his head too, for the explosions make his worries and pain go away for a moment.

He couldn't find another way to release his bottled up emotions, so gradually he returned to make explosives again.

It was something like an addiction. Similar to pyromania, except no one bothered to research this one. At the moment of explosion he could let his anger out, he could scream, he could run around freely, he could sense heat in his chest; he could be himself. As he once was.

Everything was cold. But the explosions were hot.

He thought it was under control, just a little bit of KABOOM after school, but he craved more and more every time, more vivid, more violent...

That's how he lost his eye. (...Was it a subconscious act of selfharm?)

The missing eye was a forever reminder of how deviated he actually was. He learned that he couldn't repress or change what he truly is - a monster. A Black Scottish Cyclops, wether it were his peers who called him like that or he himself, out of misery. There was indeed something seriously wrong with him.

It seemed like the only thing he was capable of is destruction. Destruction is the only environment he's comfortable with. Peace was always so anxious and depriving, and breaking things felt calming, so he figured it must be right.

And then his birth mother came and took him back, "now that's he's a worthy DeGroot". It was unexpected but... Pleasant. So he wasn't THAT worthless after all, huh? Turns out, it was really familial, the destruction thing. At least he found out that there was a reason behind all of this.

His new mom was, saying honestly, pretty cruel with words. She was not at all gentle, she was very strict, demanding and straight up abusive. It was never enough for her no matter what Demo did. She didn't want results from his work, she's just always wanted to mess with his brain.

And for whatever reason... This setup felt right for him. To be thrown around like that, to be humiliated harshly, it felt fitting, it wasn't causing anxiety or anything. He has to be a scapegoat, he had to forget about being a child and to start working as an adult, at the same time somehow replacing a father he still didn't have, but it felt good enough. Confusing relationships felt good enough.

Destruction was his habitat, and his heart could no longer accept anything else.

Cruelty wasn't warm though, just familiar, just an environment to not to go insane. But he craved warmness so badly... Yet every time he would get close to someone and receive a little gentleness and care, it would feel sickening. It felt unnatural, it reminded him of his lost parents and of everything that's wrong about him.

The only warmness his body could accept was alcohol, making him bubbly and comfortable and relaxed. He almost felt normal, happy even. Alcohol heat made him melt, and he felt so fulfilled as if he was in paradise, back to the womb.

Yet after the effect wears off, he feels lonely as ever. Quickly, existing without alcohol becomes pain. Existing at all. He became an addict.

Not that everyone he met rejected him, rather, he subconsciously reached out to those who would be cruel to him. Again, gentleness hurts wether he knows it or not. He's only good in destruction.

Lonely and clingy, ready to overshare, overall mess yet carrying a big baggage of love that has no one to give it to. Maybe because he can't give it to himself in the first place. There's so many issues unresolved because he can't handle them alone, yet there's no one to help since he was already trapped in a closed circuit of self sabotage.

He will keep acting like a party beast, always crazily emotional and overdone upbeat, a simple drunken man who will not be taken seriously that way. Maybe that's what he wanted, to not be seen as deep by anyone for not be reminded of his misery once again.

Seems like we bought that too.

...

The enemy Soldier might be an exception though. The man he really treasures his friendship with turned out to be an enemy; repeating the rule again: it's only acceptable when dangerous. Soldier deeply cares for Demo, however he's not gentle or pitying, he's as destructive and explosive as Demo is, and these two are a very rare perfect combination of destructing each other in the act of love. Both broken beyond repair, soul on soul, forever to be misunderstood by the outsiders. This is something about this relationship that looks like a golden lining.

They will not fix each other, but they sure are going to have a good time!

[bloomzone]

2025 : #17 THE ULTIMATE GUIDE ABOUT PROCRASTINATION

✒️.Procrastination is more than just putting things off as all "procrastination definition" says . It’s an internal BATTLE or WAR against your own brain. When you procrastinate you're not just delaying a task you’re delaying PROGRESS. The longer you wait the harder it gets so yeah It's an endless loop of guilt stress and self-sabotage. But what if you could break that cycle? What if you could stop hiding from your tasks and actually face them head-on? but ..

ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ ɪs ᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴅɪsᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ

Think about why you procrastinate. It’s not because you’re lazy it’s because you’re avoiding discomfort cuz Every time you put something off, it’s because your brain perceives that task as a threat to your comfort zone. Whether it’s a project at work, school assignments, or even cleaning your room, the thought of doing it brings up feelings of discomfort, stress, and anxiety. So, your brain tells you, “ hell nah bro just put it off. do something else that feels better right now.”

the reality is that DISCOMFORT is part of the PROCESS. You don’t have to feel good to do the work In fact the more you put things off to avoid feeling uncomfortable the harder and more uncomfortable it will become later. But if you can get comfortable with discomfort, you’ll realize that starting is half the battle. Once you take the first step the rest follows.

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛᴏʀ

procrastination is about “fear and avoidance.” You fear failure, you fear not doing a task perfectly, and you fear not measuring up to your own or others' expectations. This fear triggers the avoidance mechanism in your brain your limbic system, the emotional part of your brain that seeks to protect you from discomfort. This makes it hard to make decisions or take action when the task feels overwhelming.

Your rational brain knows you need to get the work done HE TRY TO WAKE UP U but the emotional brain doesn’t care. It wants relief and it wants it now. So, you find yourself scrolling on your phone, watching another episode, or simply zoning out (like me). The task doesn’t disappear it only grows more daunting. The longer you avoid it the worse it feels. That’s why procrastination feels like a snowball effect

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏsᴛ ᴏғ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛs

Every time you procrastinate, you’re paying a price. The cost is MENTAL and EMOTIONAL exhaustion. The weight of the task sits in the back of your mind nagging at you. You feel guilt, shame, and frustration for not taking action. And then that stress builds up over time.Procrastination also eats up your time. The more time you waste avoiding, the less time you have to actually get things done. When you finally force yourself to sit down and work, you have less energy and less time to do it well. This leads to rushed, sloppy work, and the cycle continues. It’s a trap that leads to more stress and anxiety. It’s like digging a hole for yourself each moment you wait, the hole gets deeper.

ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ: sᴇʟғ-sᴀʙᴏᴛᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴡ sᴇʟғ-ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ

Procrastination can also impact your self-esteem (this is sick) Every time you delay, you reinforce the belief that you're not good enough or that you can’t manage your responsibilities. Over time, procrastination can feed into self-doubt. You start thinking, "I’m just not the kind of person who gets things done" or "I’ll never be able to accomplish my goals." So procrastination is a form of self-sabotage. You’re stopping yourself from reaching your potential. You have dreams, you have goals, but procrastination convinces you that you’re not worthy of success or that you don’t deserve to put in the effort.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄʀᴀsᴛɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ : ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs !

1. Stop Waiting for Motivation.

Motivation isn’t something that just magically appears when you need it. It comes after you start doing the work, not before. You can’t wait for motivation to strike u have to create it

So How? By taking the first step, however small. Set a timer for 5 minutes, sit down, and start. Action creates motivation.

2. Break Tasks Into Bite-Sized Pieces.

When a task feels huge, it becomes overwhelming, and that's when procrastination sets in. Instead of thinking about the entire project, break it down into smaller, manageable parts. Want to write an essay? Start by writing one paragraph. Want to clean your room? Tackle one section. Small wins lead to bigger wins. Each time you check something off, it builds momentum.

3. Eliminate Distractions.

Procrastination thrives on distractions. The phone, the TV, social media they’re all little traps that pull you away from what needs to be done. Set boundaries. Turn off notifications, put your phone on airplane mode, and create a space where you can focus without interruptions. The goal isn’t perfection, but efficiency. SO THROW UR PHONE AWAY

4. Don’t Wait for the "Right" Time.

There’s never going to be a “perfect” time to start. You’re never going to feel 100% ready. The trick is to get started even when you don’t feel like it. The longer you wait for the “right moment,” the longer the task stays on your to-do list. Start before you’re ready. Trust that you can figure it out as you go.(Like those ppl who have an exam in a Monday and they wait until the perfect time 🤭 and the perfect time become a Sunday night 🥶)

5. Embrace Imperfection.

Perfectionism is procrastination’s best friend. You keep delaying because you want everything to be perfect. But hear me out : done is better than perfect. The task doesn’t need to be flawless; it needs to be completed. You can always improve it later, but only if you take action now.as long as u put effort

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ : ʙʏᴏʙ 📢

Sometimes, the best way to break the procrastination cycle is to hold yourself accountable. Tell someone what you’re working on. Whether it’s a friend, a family member, or even a colleague, let them know your goals. When you have someone checking in on your progress, it creates a sense of urgency. If you're someone who struggles with motivation, having external accountability can push you to stop procrastinating and get things done.

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ɢᴜɪʟᴛ ᴀɴᴅ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ғʀᴇsʜ

It’s easy to get stuck in a cycle of guilt. You feel bad for procrastinating, which makes you procrastinate even more. But guilt is not helpful. It’s normal to slip up or delay things. What matters is that you get back on track. Forgive yourself. Don’t let the guilt weigh you down please please please Instead, focus on the task at hand. Take that first step . Break through the resistance

ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴇʏ ᴛᴏ sᴜᴄᴄᴇss: ᴄᴏɴsɪsᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ

Procrastination is not something you can “cure” overnight. It’s a habit, and habits take time to change. The goal isn’t to be perfect every time it’s to be consistent. The more consistent you are with taking action, the easier it becomes to fight procrastination. Slowly, you’ll start building momentum, and before you know it, you’ll be taking action without second-guessing yourself. (for example set a challenge of one week without procrastination and u will see change)

AT THE END IT'S UR CHOSE : DISCOMFORT TO SUCCESS OR COMFORT TO FAIL

It’s not going to be easy. But you’ve got this AAAAAAH . The pain of procrastination will always be worse than the pain of getting started. Take control, start small, and build from there. Procrastination may try to convince you it’s too hard but you’re stronger than that. Start now, and watch the weight of procrastination lift off your shoulders.

@bloomzone 📇

[starlinehoney]

cw: slight m!sub, dubcon, somnophilia, fem!r, perv!r, lack of shame, gross themes, dark themes, dry humping, fem!masturbation, kinktober!!

NSFW below the cut!!

*.★.*.★.*.★.*.★.*.★.*.★.*.★.*

Art gets wet dreams

He’s had them since he was younger, and he was told they would go away with age, but he still wakes up flushed and out of breath with soggy boxers in his early twenties.

He’s really embarrassed about it, and the only person who knows is Patrick. Mainly because they share rooms so often. Patrick heard arts little whines in his sleep and deduced on his own what was happening. Art probably never would’ve told him— it might be his deepest, darkest secret.

But how long can you hide something that’s out of your control? He started dating, and girlfriends started wanting to sleep over. Sometimes he just wouldn’t sleep while they were there, but most of the time it was just bullshit excuses, and his girlfriends never really liked that. He couldn’t ever keep one for too long.

But you, god, he really liked you. You’d been dating for months now, and he could tell you were getting tired of excuses. Every date night, you’d ask to stay over, have him come over, anything. You started to worry that he was hiding something terrible.

But eventually, he gives in, as always. He figures he’ll just fake sleep so that you can stay over— he can tell you really want to. He can’t actually tell if it’s just innocent or if you’re trying to get him to fuck you, but either way, he just wants you to be happy.

So you go over to his apartment. You have fun, eat dinner, make out a little. It’s a great night. Then you go to bed, snuggling in to his many blankets and pillows, cuddled up with his face buried in your neck. He’d never admit it for fear of sounding like a weirdo, but he loves your scent. It relaxes him like nothing else. All his worries about his stupid secret are forgotten— he accidentally falls asleep.

He should’ve known better than to relax so much— he was already a little riled up from your makeout session earlier, and he hasn’t had time alone to jerk off in a week. You wouldn’t have even woken up if he wasn’t snuggled so close, but the soft rocking of his hips against you stirs you awake. You’re groggy disoriented “art..?” You mutter into the cool air of his bedroom. No response.

You rub your eyes and it clicks, you’re suddenly wide awake when you hear a small, broken whimper. One you’ve only heard a few times, when he let you go a little further than making out— dry humping like animals on his old couch. He whimpered like that right as he gripped your hips to slow you down, overwhelmed with the need to release and the pain of being so far away.

You frown slightly as you feel his hips pathetically hump against your leg. He’s not even really rubbing against you, just small, desperate movements that won’t actually get him anywhere.

An idea pops in your head, but you immediately shake it off. It’s unethical, he’s not awake. But the thought lingers in your mind. It’s not like you haven’t talked about it.. you’re a sexual person, you talk with him about likes and dislikes. It’s important— and maybe you like seeing him get so red.

He’s said many times that the thought of it makes him feel a hot pit in his stomach, a greedy black hole of devious desires. He feels guilty about it, you can tell. He’s one of those boys that was raised by an overly religious grandma, one that struggled to indulge in any desires that aren’t considered normal.

So maybe you just.. grab his hips, help him slow down and really feel each stroke. That’s how it starts anyway— then you adjust, so he’s fucking the soace just below your cunt, between your thighs. You fight off the slight guilt with a reassurance that you aren’t doing anything for yourself, you’re only helping him. That, and the dripping mess in your cotton underwear keeps your mind well occupied.

The heat in your core overwhelms you when you hear him stutter out your name in a pleasured whine. It’s pathetic and so arousing and just.. art. Needy even while unconscious.

Suddenly there’s no guilt, and you reach between your warm bodies to grip him over his thin, damp boxers. Each stroke of your hand causes his breath to quicken and his moans to increase in volume. The fact that he’s still asleep is a miracle.

Eventually, you hear a small grunt, followed by a whimper, and feel his boxers get warm with fresh cum. You stroke him a few seconds longer just to see him twitch, before rolling over to focus on yourself— no way you’re sleeping now.

Your breath is already quicker as you grope your squishy breasts, trapping your pert and sensitive nipples between your fingers with a sigh. Eventually you trail your hand down your abdomen, running along your sensitive hip bones for a moment before dipping below the waistband of your panties.

Even you’re shocked at how wet you are— it’s on your thighs and parts of your ass, a clear wet spot on the cloth that covers you. A sticky, slick mess. You run your fingers through the slimy liquid and bite your lip, reaching over and brushing your damp fingers over arts plush bottom lip, letting him taste you. You almost cum when he licks his lips and whines.

You’re sick for it, and you know that, but you’re ok with it. It makes your velvety cunt flutter around nothing and your other hand grip the sheets beside you. You let out a shaky, composing breath.

You put your hand back down your panties and begin to make small circles over your clit, sighing softly, but holding back any moans for fear of awakening art. You watch his peaceful face as you touch yourself, moving your fingers faster. You feel like a creep, maybe you are one— why is this making you so horny?

You stuff two fingers inside yourself, pumping them in and out and in and out until your walls tighten around your fingers in a spasm, your other hand clasped over your mouth as your eyes rolls back and you shudder with a groan. It didn’t take long wuth how worked up you were. Your back arches up and your legs try to shut and stay open all at once as the wave of pleasure washes over you. You pull your fingers out of yourself, dusting over your clit with a soft whine, before pulling them out of your underwear.

You sigh in relief and snuggle back in, cuddling up to art and playing with his hair.

He sleeps very well that night.