#for being sick because i am almost always to some degree sick

[saprosappho]

because i almost never leave the house anymore it's been really interesting and kind of funny that i'm able to accurately track my body's reactions to things in ways that just werent possible before. for example i have constant low-level nausea but almost every single time it spikes into outright illness or "this is different i'm FOR REAL sick" i have a doctor's appointment the next day, or a family thing, or whatever. and every time i'm like well it's not anxiety this time it's for real! and then it's anxiety

[princessbrunette]

… and now introducing, the 10K follower special… ᙏ̤̫ ✧༚

OBX - the nsfw alphabet guide ♡

dearest boobettes,

thank you for 10k followers, whewie how time flies! i am forever grateful for the majority support, kindness and above all patience you’ve exhibited especially during times where real life gets in the way and i needed to step away from writing. i hope you continue to chortle away with me in my asks & enjoy my silly little drabbles,

love from princess ^_^ ♡

A IS FOR… aftercare, ft. pope heyward ♡

it goes without saying, pope has done his research and has engaged in copious amounts of conversations on your boundaries. after sex, he overthinks — massively, always worried that he got caught up in the throes of passion and somehow became aggressive or forceful (…spoiler alert, he didn’t! not to a degree you didn’t thoroughly enjoy, anyway.) therefore, he needs to know what you need, pretty immediately too - almost too an annoying degree.

“hey, too far? tell me what you need baby.” he’s cradling you before you’ve even caught your breath.

“mmph—”

“lets use our words, yeah?” your eyes are shut, but you know that stressed crinkle is sitting right between his brows.

“just wanna lay.” you whine, and he knows that tone means to stop pressing you. if laying is what you want, it’s what you’ll get. he knows he won’t be able to help himself from jumping up to clean you up soon enough, but for now he’s happy to indulge in your sticky embrace, stroking your head and telling you just how good you were.

B IS FOR… body parts, ft. bunny!reader x rafe ♡

rafes favourite body part of bunny’s is undoubtably her lips. there’s just something about them, the shape of them, the colour of them — that makes her always get her way with him. whether she’s pouting them, batting her long lashes when she’s in trouble or painting them with a sparkly gloss, one he probably bought her that week that she’ll leave printed around his cock later on — he can never keep his eyes of them. her tits are pretty fantastic too though, he must say.

bunny’s favourite body part of rafe’s? but there’s just too many to pick one! she is particularly fond of his shoulders and chest and it shows, always stroking down his torso when she’s speaking to him — the muscle beneath his polo perfectly pudged from exercise without being too firm, also making the perfect board for her to scratch her manicured nails down while getting put through the mattress.

C IS FOR… cum, ft.kitty!reader x jj ♡

there is something spiritual about the way kitty interacts with jj’s cum— like she swears she can tell what he’s eaten, how many sips of water he’s had that day and what the weather was like just from the taste of it. she’d lift her head from his crotch, mascara dwelling beneath her eyes as she smacks her lips thoughtfully, waiting for the blonde to catch his breath.

his ringed hand is still planted atop her head, supporting her limp neck as he looks down at her through spent and lidded eyes. “how y’feeling bae?” he queries, noting the pensive look on her face.

“all caffeine.” she hums, brows furrowing. jj blinks.

“y—…uh, what?”

“you didn’t drink any water today? not even a little? what did i tell you? you can’t survive off redbull!” she squints all pissed off, even her nose balling up as jj watches her rise up from her position.

“aint no way.”

D IS FOR… dirty secret, ft. john b x puppy!reader ♡

well, it was his dirty secret. you guess you could say d is also for dad, because that’s what he likes being called the most in the bedroom. it fills some… sick hole in his heart, fuels this odd complex he has around pup. he likes that she relies so much on him, he’s always taken the leadership role in any group so when it’s just the two of them it only feels right. it started off as daddy of course, but he’ll always remember that one sweaty night, roughly 4AM and they’d been going at it for hours, her legs over his shoulders, thick cock hitting that abused spongy spot until the word transformed before his very ears.

“mm—mm—mm—daddy—daddy—dad… dad!” it was music to his ears. apparently enough to have him blow his load at the drop of a hat.

E IS FOR… experience, ft. mouse!reader x jj x pope ♡

until she met jj and pope, she’d never even kissed anyone. well — she tells people she had, one guy — but the one guy in question was her one and only boyfriend in fourth grade (who then dumped her the next day because he wanted to ‘focus on powerangers’. she hates powerangers to this day.) it’s not to feed into her whole innocent aesthetic, you know with the baby pinks and the ballet and the glittery blusher dusted on the apples of her cheeks, no. she was just painfully shy— too touch starved to even imagine herself being intimate.

it wasn’t until she was sat in the middle of jj and pope on her bed, asking them if they could kiss eachother first to ease her nerves before she could kiss them — that she realised how badly she’d been missing out.

F IS FOR… favourite position, ft. lord!rafe ♡

when sabrina carpenter says ‘have you ever tried this one?’ referring to an unnamed sex position on her hit song, juno — the chances are, with lord!rafe, you had. the man was creative, especially when he was high, wanting to see just how far you’d contort and push yourself to submit to him. to bend to his will. but at the end of the day, he was just a man — and he craved that deep intimacy that his favourite pledge could give him, and that was a mating press.

“you like this, hm? feeling all— all close like this huh?” he pants in your face, your knees squished to you in a way that made it hard to breathe, especially with the way he was brutalising your hole.

“mm, mhm. thank you lord.” your voice is spitty and pleading and he chuckles through his exhales.

“yeah. like this one the most. get to see the life leave your fuckin eyes when i pull out. you just want that seed so fuckin bad don’t you baby?” he basically growling so you know he’s close. your eyes struggle not to roll back at the feeling.

“yes. yes lord!” your voice breaks.

“well that’s too bad baby. that’s too fuckin’ bad.”

G IS FOR… goofy, ft. jj x deer!reader ♡

much like mouse!reader, deer is a tough one to crack due to her shyness. however, through hard work and determination — jj discovered that the best way to get her to ease up and let go, was to quite literally giggle her out her panties.

“these are pretty.” he compliments her, warm breath on her neck as they both look between their bodies at her frilly white panties, a red bow at the centre which he plucks at gently. when he feels her tense up, he raises an eyebrow with a playful expression — letting her know it’s still just him, still her silly jj. “can i borrow ‘em?”

she busts into a fit of giggles, and whilst distracted — jj grins, sliding the fabric down her thighs as she writhes elatedly. “what? don’t think they’d suit me?” he keeps her happy and the vibes up as he parts her thighs, her giggles turning into slow breaths. his grin melts into a smirk, prompting an answer. “hm?”

“w��well— i was j—just—”

“mmmhm. yeah, i know. it’s okay baby.” he cooes, lulling her into being just a little more limp for him.

H IS FOR… hair, ft.john b ♡

john b is super hairy down there, never seeming to have the time to groom himself. the hair on his head is thick and wavy, and that’s not exception to his downstairs either, enough to bury your face in whilst deep throating his girthy length, the hair even crawling up his happy trail to his belly button. the sight when he stretches, arms lifted over his head causing his shirt to rise up and expose it has trained your mouth to water.

equally, if anyone is gonna advocate for you having a bush — it’s him. he had access to a load of his dads porno magazines from the 70s that he thought he’d hidden, so since he was younger he’d always had an affection for a pretty lil tuft peeking out some pretty panties. hey, it’s your body your choice as he’d be adamant on telling you — but if you wanted to give up shaving for a little while, he’d have zero objections.

many nights would be spent with his hand just affectionately patting your mound through your panties in bed before casually slipping his hand inside, twirling his fingers around some of the wiry hair.

“john b.” you’d scold, a little hot in the face.

“what, babe? getting a pretty neat bouquet going on down here. love it.”

I IS FOR…intimacy, ft. starwars!au!pope ♡

each time captain pope fucks you, he never knows if it’s going to potentially be his last time before he gets shipped off to some far away planet where all communication with you is severed. hell, sometimes he’s not sure if he’s ever going to make it back from his mission at all.

because of this, when he sneaks away from the bunks to fly to your apartment and spend a night with you — he fucks you like it’s the last time. skin to skin, direct, watery eye contact, arms wrapped around you like he’s never going to let you go as he rolls his hips, sweat dripping down his back.

“stars, i love you. i love you i love you. fuck, i fucking love you.” he groans, eyes fighting to stay open because he doesn’t wanna miss a moment of you, needing to ingrain your image into his brain for those lonely nights away.

“i love you pope. my pope.” you’d cry out, like it was a promise — and it was. a promise to be together properly one day with nothing and no one standing in between.

J IS FOR jack off, ft. stepbro!rafe ♡

before your parents married and you moved into tanny hill, rafe thought he jacked off a normal amount for someone his age. it was like you hit this switch, left him fumbling for control of his own body. it was no wonder he was so angry all the time, you had his hormones going haywire like some kind of teenager.

he was certain he’d had to quickly beat one out in nearly every room of the house. he’d see you in the kitchen, reaching up to a shelf that was a little too high for you — your shirt rising up, tits pressed to the fabric, underwear peeking from the waistband of your shorts and he’d be zipping out the room to relieve himself in the bathroom. he sees you out by the pool, slathering greasy spf over your skin, oiling yourself up in your bikini making you look like some kind of pornstar, and he’s taking a risk — standing in the empty window downstairs, hoping no one enters the room as he tugs one out.

you can’t even do your laundry in peace, rafe worried about the wrong load when he walks in and is confronted directly by the sight of you bent over the washer, digging around for that one pesky sock. he could just take you. right here, right now— but instead he ends up blowing his cum into his own sock that never made it into the wash pile back in his room.

he’ll pass your bedroom, and you’ll be out — so he’ll take the liberty to blow a load into a pair of your used panties in the hamper. you didn’t do anything to trigger him this time, but he felt like you owed him that at least, for all the times you’d unknowingly teased him.

K IS FOR… kink, ft. receptionist!reader x fireman!john b x fireman!jj ♡

unsurprising to all, the sweet receptionist bunking in a tiny apartment with two beefy firemen definitely has a fantasy or two. she knows the realities of how scary these fires can be, so she always feels a little guilty in indulging in being a damsel in distress in her daydreams, her two boys coming to save her from a smoky building before taking her home, spreading her out on the bed and making her feel all better, the two of them still greasy, soot staining their clothes and the scent of smoke radiating from them.

sometimes they get home from their shift when she’s mid fantasy with her hand down her panties and suddenly has to dive out of bed to greet them, all disheveled with her pupils dilated to the moon and back.

“you uh… alright there sweetie?” jj plays into it, knowing something was a miss, smirking. she swallows thickly, nodding unconvincingly.

“mhm! you guys just caught me by surprise! i was uh, napping.” her voice still trembles.

“hold on, you do look a little flushed.” john b touches the back of her neck and her knees buckle. but luckily his fireman instincts kick in and he catches her with ease. god, this was just like her fantasies. “lets lay you down, okay?”

L IS FOR… location, ft. pizzadeliveryboy!pope ♡

when fitting pope into your seriously tight schedule — sometimes it was just the most convenient to fuck in a rather odd location. your car and the kitchen of your house were good enough to get the job done — but popes favourite location to have fucked you in had to be the bathroom of the pizza place he worked at.

now, usually — he was a stickler for rules. the violation of his work place would normally make him shudder, but it was just the way you’d marched in there, so publicly, leant over the counter and whispered “i need it now.”

safe to say you were not talking about extra pepperonis.

he took his break early, and hey — it was a slow day, so he wasn’t too worried about ushering you cautiously but quickly into a bathroom cubicle and fighting your shorts down your legs.

“seriously? while i’m working?” he hisses in a whisper and all you can do is giggle, leaning against your cubicle wall and sticking out your ass temptingly. you match his whisper at full volume, in the moment not caring who hears. it was the closest he could get to a public declaration of love and desire.

“dont complain. know you’ve been thinkin’ about it.”

he definitely had been, so he shuts up and gets to work.

M IS FOR… motivation, ft. shittysoundcloudrapper!jj ♡

what gets jj going, is your eagerness to help him, doing whatever it takes to push and promote his hopeless career in soundcloud rapping. needs a female voice to moan for the backing track again? you’re eagerly setting up the mic and spreading your legs for him. needs a video girl? you’re holding up mini skirts asking which one he thinks you should wear (he says whichever one is shorter.) stuck in a slump with writing lyrics? there’s not much you can do there but spell check them in his notepad with glittery pink pen and make suggestions. each assist made, you do it with the same wide eyed, pleading for approval expression that makes his dick throb.

he didn’t like to admit it, but he was enjoying playing with you too much to make you his certified girlfriend just yet. which makes him kind of a selfish asshole, yes. he just loved watching you melt when he’d come up behind his pretty best friend, grabbing your hips and rocking side to side with you, making you smile because you know he’s about to suck up to you and ask you for something.

“you wanna be my helpful girl?” he hums, and you shudder — instantly and pathetically becoming that wide eyed yes-woman he knows and loves.

“mhm…”

“wow that was eeeeasy mama. you’ll do anything for me, huh?”

“anything.”

N IS FOR… no, ft. daddy!john b x puppy!reader ♡

one thing john b really doesn’t like doing, is pushing pup past her limits — especially as sometimes she doesn’t quite know where they are. when having sex, during particularly intense sessions she gets dazed, unable to think and sometimes even talk for herself because she is just so overwhelmed by emotion and pleasure.

he’d have her face down ass up in the bed, strong arm wrapped around her hips to reach her cunt, rolling her pearl beneath rough fingers as his cock stretches her, collecting cream at the base from her abundance of releases. hes going at a relaxed pace, but pup is limp, unable to let anything out by strained noises.

“hows that sweetheart? we still feeling good?” john b croons, careful not to get lost in his own pleasure to focus on his own. “pup?” he calls when there’s no answer.

that’s a big enough of a red flag for john b to pull out, leaning over her to gently lift her head. her eyes are screwed shut with tears on her cheeks and she’s breathing quickly through her nose. it appears she’s worked herself up into a frenzy. the brunette knows not to panic, as these things happen, simply scooping her naked body into his arms and stroking her head. “how ‘bout a break. okay? did so good for me puppy. juuust need a break. little tiny break.” he punctuates the sentence with a kiss to her crown, doing everything in his power to reassure and soothe her.

O IS FOR…oral, ft. rafe x lamb!reader ♡

with someone as strict as lamb!reader, oral is the loophole rafe needed to get into her panties. in the early days, he weasels head from her — telling her it’s the only way she can properly apologise to him after mouthing off against him after he’d done so much for her. there’s the light threat that he’ll tell on her too if she doesn’t, unspoken and lingering behind their elongated gazes — and that’s enough for her to frantically scamper to her knees, demanding the satin scrunchie from her dresser.

rafe isn’t big on giving oral — but with lamb, he’d see it as a stepping stone into sex. because if he’s eaten her pussy, what’s the point in stopping there? they may aswell go all the way. it’s obscene the way he’d have her on her back on her bed, his knees in both of his hands, spread as far as they’d go revealing her wet, pulsing cunt causing the fabric of her thin white panties to be completely sheered.

“c—can’t, after the first time… i had to beg for forgiveness. if i do this rafe there’s, there’s no going back.” she’s trembling, the poor thing — but not from fear, from need, her clit twitching beneath his gaze just begging to be touched. it was true, religious girls ovulated too.

“yeah? you’d probably start crying if i stopped n’walked away now alright? you want this. no, you — you need this, i can see it with my own two eyes. okay? give in. jesus isn’t watching.” he’s irritable, but if rafe was anything— he wasn’t a total creep. he needed that green light. he needed a yes.

there’s a silence, filled with lambs shuddering and sniffles and he’s honestly about to give up himself before her voice sounds, meek and guilty.

“just… just a little bit. just kiss it a little bit. maybe… maybe touch.”

he huffs out a laugh. sure, just a little bit.

P IS FOR… pace, ft.apocalypse!pope ♡

in a world where everything was a mad dash for safety, sex was the one thing pope liked to take his time with. he saw it as a luxury, a blessing reminding him of his gratitude toward having shelter, safety, warmth, companionship. he was never a risk taker, only ever having one actual ‘quickie’ in an abandoned warehouse when you convince him to take you beyond the gates of kitty hawk. he was stressed the whole time, an eye constantly peeled and unable to fully enjoy you as he bounced you hastily on his cock.

“s’fine popey, no one’s here! nothin’s gonna — mmph— nothin’s gonna happen!”

“you don’t know that. fuck. you better cum. shit.”

back home at the base, he lights candles, lays you down on the blankets in his watch-tower, and gets to work. he rolls his hips languidly, relishing in every noise you make, falling love even deeper when you beg him to go harder, faster. but he never does. sex was one of the few enjoyable things there was left, and he wanted to make each time last. he never knew when it might be the last time, anyway.

Q IS FOR… quickie, ft. farmhand!jj ♡

farmhand!jj on the other hand, he gets off on the thrill of being caught. he doesn’t really want to— but there’s something so scandalous to him about the fact your father is a short walk up the hill, whilst you’re in the barn with him, grinding on his face, calling him daddy.

there’s a rarely a time either of you are able to get fully nude, relying on moving things out the way to put the ‘quick’ in ‘quickie’. he enjoys that element too, taking pleasure in pulling up that little gingham dress and moving your innocent looking panties aside to have his way with the farmers daughter.

he likes to tease you, it’s just apart of his cheeky personality — plucking some hay off your cheek as he fucks into you from the back, hay in your hair and dirt on your cheek on the floor blanket he laid down.

“what would ya’ daddy say, huh? if he saw you like this on his property? ain’t lookin’ too good for you, sweetie.” he teases, tightening his grip on your hips. you whine, which means ‘don’t say that’ in sex talk, barely glancing over your shoulder with hazy puppy dog eyes.

“you’re m’daddy.” you pout in the heat of the moment, pathetically and guiltily making him bark out a mischievous chuckle, biting his tongue.

“yeah? i’m your daddy. okay.” jj repeats with a grin, plucking his hat off his head and dropping it on yours.

R IS FOR… risk, ft. gooner!rafe ♡

look, he’s a rich, white guy in college. he doesn’t care about risks. before you, there wasn’t much risk in his porn obsessed habits, not outside of his search history being revealed anyway. but when he met you, someone who lets him do whatever he wants — it becomes more of a factor.

half way through fucking, he rolls off you, sliding the slippery condom off his cock and heading back to insert himself.

“rafey what are you doin’?” you mewl, shock and concern etched across your features. to be honest, the suggestion of fear in your tone made him throb.

“look, it’ll be fine, alright? i’ll— i’ll pull out, just need to feel that pussy. you gonna let me feel that pussy or no? hm?” he drawls, leaning over you on strong arms, the angle making it hard to disagree with him, infact — you felt your hand floating towards his shaft to guide him back inside, under his spell.

S IS FOR… stamina, ft. puppy!reader x jj ♡

what happens when you pair two of the most adhd, frantic beings in the obx in a bed together? it just keeps going, all night long. catch them when they’re amped up enough, and they’ll go like bunnies.

just when you think it’s over, the two of them catching their breath together in bed— they’ll turn to look at eachother with hazy smiles, before puppy rolls back on top of him.

“want more, jayj.” she’ll always beg, grinding her slick up and down his shaft as it twitches, blood rushing back to it.

“oh yeah? already? don’t need a snack? just… straight back in?” he teases, pretending to think about it until she pouts petulantly.

“dont need a snack want it right now!” she whines, frantically trying to stuff him back inside. he sits up, waving her hands away and cradling her.

“alright, alright no scooby snacks, got it. don’t worry, i’ll give y’what you want, mama.” he soothes, before flipping her on her back.

T IS FOR… toys, ft. toxicex!johnb ♡

let’s be real, whenever you and john b hook up — he wants to show you exactly what you’re missing, so when he feels the need to up his game, he’s definitely not above using toys to bend you to his will, guaranteeing a crazy orgasm you both know no one else can give you.

when you come grovelling at his door, he poses the vibrator he still keeps around as a punishment of some kind for leaving him. he’ll sit behind you on the bed with your legs spread open, holding the pink vibe to your clit as you fall apart.

“you know sweetheart i shouldn’t keep doing this… right?”

“mm—no—mmph john b, please!” you cry, willing to do anything for him to not turn the toy off just before you cum again.

“john b?” he repeats, voice dry and flat. “has it been that long?”

“daddy.” you mewl ashamed and feel him smile, satisfied with an exaggerated nod.

“ah. there it is. ‘guess i can make you feel good again. what’s one more time right?” his tone is sarcastic still as he rubs the vibe in circles, making your legs jerk obscenely, voice squealing involuntarily. “mm. but it’s not gonna be the last time, is it baby?”

U IS FOR… unfair, ft.spoiledexgf!reader x rafe ♡

we all know, when it comes to teasing — spoiledexgf!reader is straight up evil. she breaks less easily, never giving rafe what he wants unless it’s on her terms, using him for that delectable dick and money when she needs it. she knows he still belongs to her completely, and her attitude shows that.

she likes to call him at random times from another phone (because one of them always has the other one blocked on her phone.) just to check if she can still get what she wants. he’ll pick up the phone with “yeah, who’s this?”

“you know who.” she grins, kicking her feet and she hears him sigh, leaning back in his seat, probably pinching his nose bridge.

“what, okay — i’m working, what do you want?”

“i can’t just call to check up on my favourite businessman?” she coos, biting her glossed lip.

“no. you always want something. so what is it— or— or should i say how much? huh? how much you need?” he’s sarcastic, but she can literally him hear scuffling about for his wallet.

“just a humble 300. there are these pair of shoes and… well, i won’t bore you with the details. i’ll be sure to repay you.”

“yeah, you fuckin’ better, alright? not just a piggy bank. not doin’ that shit anymore okay i need something in return.” he demands, frustrated and dick already jumping at the thought of potentially getting to touch her again.

she taps her chin though he can’t see her, fluttering long lashes at the ceiling. “hmm. i’ll see what mood i’m in later. bye rafey.” just like that, she hangs up — waiting for the money to be transferred.

V IS FOR…volume, ft. pope ♡

if there was a contest for prettiest male moan— the trophy would go to pope. he’s not super loud, because you’re either doing it at his place or yours, and with your family situations it was rare you had the places to yourself.

however, you could listen to it forever — the sound of his soft groan in your ear as he’d roll his hips against yours, slipping in whispers of “oh my god.” and “fuck…” under his breath, which was absolutely music to your ears.

sometimes, when he’s super pent up — right before he cums he’ll whimper, eyes screwed shut as he focuses on getting to his peak of pleasure. that was pope at his most vulnerable, and you cherish every moment.

“fuckfuckfuck… you’re so beautiful…shit!”

W IS FOR… wildcard, ft. barry x bunny!reader ♡

you read that correctly — there is a universe out there where bunny and rafe break up, and barry is quick to get his hands on that. he lets her rant at his place, wiping her tears with his knuckle with a joint hanging from his mouth, he takes a huff before holding the roll to her glittery lips.

“he got you fucked up babygirl… know i wouldn’t do that shit right? i’on know, maybe you need a real man to get you right… s’all i’m sayin’.” he lets the smirk slide onto his face. her instinct is to deny him, but why? she’s single now right?

before she knows it she’s pierced on his cock with him guiding her hips, his mouth tasting of something unfamiliar mixed with weed.

“shit, keep that thing real tight don’t you mama? country club di’nt even know what to do with all that.”

X IS FOR… x-ray ♡

when i think of who is packing the most — two characters come to mind. pogue!rafe, who stands at 6ft5– he definitely has the dick to match his huge beefy stature, and dbf!johnb— just the idea of him having to train his friends daughter to take his thick cock is simply mouthwatering.

rafes stands at 9 and a half inches, and john b at 7.5, but way thicker.

Y IS FOR… yearning, ft. john b x reader x sarah ♡

this couple is potentially the biggest gooner duo of the princessverse. as previously discussed, the pair are constantly trying to integrate sex into your life by tricking your innocent mind into thinking it was your idea, so of course they are constantly yearning for you.

when you posted some scandalous bikini pics on instagram — you thought most people would give it a like, maybe a comment and then keep scrolling. what you don’t know, is that two of your closest friends are in bed together, touching themselves and eachother with your pictures pulled up — talking about all the yucky things they’re gonna do to you when they get their hands on you.

“can you picture it john b? her laying right here between us, letting me suck those perfect tits.” sarah sighs softly and john b’s jaw falls open with pleasure as she takes over from his hand gripping his cock, stroking up and down.

“holy shit. i’m gonna cum all over the screen.” he grits his teeth and she sucks on her plump bottom lip, clenching her tanned thighs together knowing it’ll be her turn soon.

“yeah… cum all over her.”

Z IS FOR… Zzz, ft. linecook!jj ♡

jj works long days, but he always ensures to reserve enough energy to lay it on you when he’s home from work. however, when he’s done — he’s done, so if you were planning on having any conversations with him, you have to make sure it’s before he gets his hands on you.

he rolls off you once he’s fucked you through two orgasms, finally getting his own, dropping face down with his pants pulled down.

you catch your breath before rolling over to kiss his bicep. “jayj, left some dinner for you in the microwave if you didn’t get to eat at work…” you blink, hazy eyed and still a bit disorientated. “jayjie?”

you’re met with a snore, low and deep — muffled by the pillow. you giggle, stroking his back affectionately and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. he’ll eat it for breakfast, you suppose.

[imnameimswrld]

ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 ⁰³ ׄ ⑅ DR3 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ

— DESCRIPTION ੭ in the midst of almost drowning yourself in studying, daniel is always sure to pull you back up the surface.

— PAIRING ੭ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

— FILE ੭ social media au, drabble.

— WARNINGS ੭ none.

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

ynusername added to their story ! • 2hrs

seen by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri, and 356 445 others

oscarpiastri replied to your story !

don't overworking urself yn !

always remember to take breaks, ok ?

yes, thanks oscar :)

landonorris replied to your story !

get those grades queen

but also take ur breaks pls and thanks

💅 , thanks lan !

yukitsunoda0511 replied to your story !

pla don't overworking urself and get sick again

daniel was not fun to deal with

healthy you = happy daniel !!!

gotcha yuks 😭🤞

_ _ _

Your concentration has been wired on this very paragraph for the past half hour, your brain trying to register every word but your eyes just keep drifting back to the beginning.

It frustrates you to the core; your coffee glass is empty, your glasses feel like they've left an indentation on the bridge of your nose, there's a distinct pinch of pain that's nene growing im temples for the past hour – right about now would be the perfect time for-

"Knock, knock."

Daniel's soft voice echoes through the door that stands ajar, and slowly the door to your study swings open for a head of unruly curls to pop in.

"Hey there pretty," his smile just makes your whole systems feel ten pounds lighter. "Mind if I steal your attention for a bit ?"

Your lips curl up as you nod eagerly, twisting your roller chair around to face him. "Please do baby."

Despite being with you for almost 3 years, the delicate way you always speak to him will forever kiss a pink tint to the tips of his ears. Walking over, Daniel pulls you up for a moment, only for him to steal your seat and offer his lap as your new one. You take it without hesitation, discarding your specs to nuzzle your head comfortably into his warm neck.

"I'm so proud of you, you know that right ?" his voice is deep and gentle as he speaks, his head resting on yours with his arms wrapped securely around your curled up body.

"I mean, in just a few months I'll be the fiancé of a woman with a honors in engineering. Do you know how amazingly smart and talented you love ?" your head tilts back so you could gaze up into his big honey browns, the emotion you find there so full of love and admiration.

"You're perfect."

You grin, absolutely adoring the compliments. "Please, keep 'em coming honey."

"And you're remarkable."

You hum, smile growing as he his face gets closer and closer with every sentence.

"And you're beautiful, and kind, and hardworking..."

Daniel's lips take yours in passion and sweetness, your hand coming up to run your thumb along his stubbled jawline. He pecks soft kisses around your face, each followed by yet another compliment because honestly, he could write a whole book about how much of an amazing person you are.

"And I love you with every inch of my being, my heart is forever yours, in this life and the next." with another peck to your lips, he pulls away to smile down at you.

"Daniel Ricciardo, did you just recite your vows to me ?" your gaze narrows playfully, hand creeping up into his curls.

He chuckles heartily. "Sweetheart, if you think that was poetry, you ain't seen nothing yet."

You laugh because in his arms, before quickly pulling him down for some more of his special, comforting kisses.

_ _ _

danielricciardo

liked by yukitsunoda0511, lewishamilton, and 988 221 others

danielricciardo i am officially a fiancé to a woman with a HONORS DEGREE IN ENGINEERING !? Baby, I'm so crazy proud of you and god i love you so much.

View all comments

lewishamilton GO YN !!!

▹ ynusername ahhh, thank you lew ! 😭

ynusername goddammit baby i love you so much 😭❤

▹ danielricciardo 💋💋💋

yukitsunoda0511 yn come apply to be our head of engineering i need a faster car 😁

▹ charles_leclerc no hey me first ! I asked before you yuki so het in line – plus yn, love, ferrari will pay you TRIPLE of whatever redbull offers you :)

▹ lewishamilton forget Mercedes, yn, I will pay you QUADRUPLE for you to be my personal engineer and mechanic.

▹ ynusername damn, ya'll are making some really good offers here huh...

▹ danielricciardo oi leave my girl alone and go cry about ur car problems to someone else.

[ liked by maxverstappen1 ]

━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━

imnameimswrld I partially wrote this for my own comfort, but I hope it brings some to you lovelies too <3

[tojivu]

stopp i need more of gojo w six eyes omg 😭😭😭 that last one was so adorable

# SIX II ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note you ask and i deliver :3 please keep the asks flowin my 2 month break is soon!! i am fortunately very free.. also i think i might make one with husband satoru :7

✰ — cw / tags fiance!satoru , read part 1 first because it makes more sense , gn!reader , swearing , gojo being so pretty you’re literally in a daze LOL , not proofread , sfw as always

✰ — playing endlessly by alina baraz.

✰ — word count 1k

"they need to start a fucking cab service here."

GOJO SATORU, your now fiancé, has been whining for the past half an hour—and as his lover, it is your (unconsented) responsibility to hear all of it. the snowy haired man walking in front of you has his handheld fan out in a futile attempt to cool himself off, and of course it reaps no benefit: it's thirty three degrees, ninety one in fahrenheit. what would a measly fan be able to do?

that's precisely what you say to him, your mood was sour as well; having to listen to your querulous husband-to-be grumble about the weather and the walking distance was taking a toll on you.

"plus. . . who was the one who," you found that talking made you feel hotter, so you tried to refrain from long strings of words. "asked to eat at a restaurant. . ."

you huff. ". . .40 minutes away from the station. . ."

you two were sick of tokyo, and you suppose it's partially your fault as well: you've been pestering him for the past month to visit the countryside to get some fresh air. you thought it would be cooler here, seeing as to how rare cars and buses were to come by—ironically, a car or bus is exactly what you two need at this moment.

at least now, your pool of choices for honeymoon destinations are narrowed—the silver lining that was not so silver amidst the heat, and compared to the amount of walking you had to endure.

"we should've just went to switzerland."

it takes a long while before you two make any turn. the pavement is stretched long and far, and the only buildings you'd come across were tiny houses belonging to the countryfolk.

gojo is walking backwards, ranting to you about what could've been in the swiss alps: on and on about snowball fights with you and napping together on a couch in front of a cozy fire. all of his eyes are looking at you, a pitiful gaze in each pair.

yet, you're still here, in the blistering and merciless heat. there was nothing complaints would change, it’s not like you could teleport.

"well, just book a flight to switzerland yourself, then!" you hiss, looking away from gojo, who seemed so unappreciative of the quality time he’s spending with the alleged love of his life.

your scolding makes him laugh. a smug smile spreads across his face, because he was just kidding: he supposes it's not half bad because you're still here with him.

though, he still thinks it would be better by tenfold if the weather was just a little bit more compassionate.

you don’t realise gojo’s stopped walking and is standing in front of you, as you’re preoccupied with the sulky attitude; you bump into him, almost tripping and falling off the concrete pavement—not before he catches you with quick arms and undeniable strength.

you would’ve fallen face flat onto the road if not for your fiancé instinctively reaching for you, and he’s prepared for an earful when you realise what just happened.

“satoru,” you grit your teeth. he closes his eyes, all six of them, in preparation for the scolding he was going to receive from you. “do you not have anything in that dense skull of yours?“

his arms are firm around your waist and your hat is poking at his chest. you look up at him, realising his eyes are open now—blinking at you ever so slowly, as if asking for pity.

all six of his eyes blink in sync, and you spend a good ten seconds staring at his face. something about the way his eyes glistened in the harsh sunlight and the way his hair frames them perfectly, snowy white hair clashing with the blues of his irises—a trance was what he had you under.

“stop looking at me like that.”

“i thought you liked them.” gojo puts on a pout, and it’s too obvious that he’s fishing for your affection—he might as well just ask you to tell him what he wants to hear.

nevertheless, you spoil satoru; as you have always done and continue to do. you think he’s too used to your cooing and that somebody definitely needs to humble him, but you know that somebody wouldn’t be you.

“i love them, ‘toru.” you say, and his pout disappears as quickly as it came. “i love you.”

the whites of his teeth shine in the sunlight when he hears you say those precious words; it never fails to confuse you, how easy it is to please gojo—except that it isn’t, he was only easy when it came to you.

he takes off your hat and you scowl at the heat that your hat has been shielding you from. gojo presses a kiss onto your forehead, not pulling away even after seconds have passed.

“love you more.”

you scoff. “i’m not getting into that argument with you.”

he finally pulls away and his eyes blink at you again, with that same sulking expression. “so you don’t wanna say it back? do you not love me more, y/n?”, and there goes his comedically unconvincing pout.

you bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to put on the sternest look you can; but you take one more good look at him and it’s utterly useless.

people found it hard to get their ways with you. you were a stubborn person, naturally—standing your ground was something that came easy to you. you wonder why it’s different with satoru, though.

perhaps it was his face, his painstakingly handsome face—but you know it definitely had something to do with the way he looked at you, the way his eyes and gaze made you weak in the knees.

“i love you more.” you give in for the second time, and seeing the smirk on his face form makes you realise you’ve done it again: fallen right into his trap.

the pairs of eyes on his forehead and cheeks shut their eyelids. “no, think i love you more.” satoru declares before planting another kiss, this time on your right cheek. “i know i do.”

such a sly man, you think—you wouldn’t marry anyone else.

221023 — it’s 4am..

[evilbihan]

I'm not going to acknowledge that person by name because I have no wish to interact further with her, nor to have others find her and give her any attention. But with Noob Saibot being brought back, I remembered this rancid take they had, quote: "Bi-Han is a man who has time and time again become Noob Saibot, a man whose endings have shown the Netherrealm is where he wanted to be" which is wild af to say.

Because Bi-Han doesn't just 'become" Noob, he is literally made into Noob. Quan Chi resurrected him as a wraith that turned him into Noob Saibot and now Titan Havik tortures him and uses some insane magic even Liu Kang doesn't know, to turn him into Noob. It's not like some magical girl transformation. We're talking awful evil stuff being done to Bi-Han against his will, to warp him into this being known as Noob Saobot, who is stripped of his humanity and almost everything that made Bi-Han who he was.

And Bi-Han never wanted to end up in the Neatherrealm. In the previous timelines he literally had no choice. He was forced into the role of assassin. He was molded into one practically from birth. In Mythologies when he goes into the Neatherrealm he's informed that his soul is already tainted with evil, which is why he can exist there. That's not because he simply woke up one day and decided to kill some Gods for shits and gigs. He had to do what he was ordered to do or be a traitor to the clan and marked for death anyway. It was a lose lose situation. If anything this shows that Bi-Han was never where he wanted to be. His strings were always being pulled by someone else. History is repeating itself now. And leaks even say that Liu Kang doesn't fault him for his desires, but only the ways he goes about achieving his ends. Which further proves Bi-Han doesn't have some nefarious plots in mind with the deliberate intention of landing himself in the Neatherrealm.

She said she doesn't hate Bi-Han, but then this reads as a deep missunderstanding of his character. And at that point, if you can misinterpret his character to that degree, you probably don't like him much either.

Another day, another take so stupid it makes me want to never interact with anything MK related ever again.

Oh, who am I kidding? The trailer already achieved that.

Needless to say, you're 100% correct and this person, whoever they are, is obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed. People who think Bi-Han wanted any of this are either being ignorant on purpose and want to misunderstand his character because they hate him or they're so blatantly stupid they don't understand the very simple fact that Bi-Han being turned into Noob Saibot always happened against his will in every damn timeline.

Does it look like Bi-Han tied himself to that damn wheel we see in the trailer? Does this person have the attention span of a goldfish and just missed the part where he looks terrified out of his mind when those drills/needles approach him?

For goodness' sake, I didn't want to talk about the trailer because watching it made me want to gauge my own eyeballs out. I never felt this sick looking at something in my life (that's coming from someone who plays horror and fighting games on the regular) and yet here we are and I'm talking about it regardless now. I hate it here.

But anyway, you're right. What more can I say? Anyone with even an ounce of common sense would know that. Anyone who has ever played any of the Mortal Kombat games should know that Bi-Han was forcefully turned into Noob Saibot. He was never evil. He was always a neutral character and he's still a neutral character in the New Era.

What more confirmation do you need outside of Liu Kang himself admitting that there's nothing wrong with Bi-Han's ambitions, only with his methods of achieving them? Ashrah says Bi-Han can be redeemed, Bi-Han said only people who don't understand him would mistake him for evil, the Lin Kuei all stand behind Bi-Han and support him... He isn't evil and he never was.

He literally saves Liu Kang's entire stupid trainwreck of a timeline single-handedly in this DLC and people still have the audacity to say he's evil?

I wish he was.

I wish Bi-Han would just sit back and watch Havik destroy Liu Kang's timeline along with all the pitiful hypocrites in it. I wish he'd let all of the fandom's pathetic favorites get torn to shreds and laugh.

But he won't. Because Bi-Han is a good and honorable man deep down.

Disagree and be wrong. It's as simple as that.

PS: Wasn't MK:Mythologies Sub-Zero all about Bi-Han trying to avoid ending up in the Netherrealm? He reacted with shock and concern to being told his soul is tainted with evil by Raiden and he was trying to turn his life around. There's even an ending in one of the older games where he kills Shang Tsung and leaves the Lin Kuei with the prize money from the tournament. Bi-Han never wanted to end up in the Netherrealm. Claiming anything else would be ignoring canon lore.

[candyunicornsateme]

Please feed me mccormick angst. Give me your headcanonssssssss

Okay so like my main usual ideas are not extremely grim but generally pretty dismal and depressing like.

Kevin to me is like the type to steal some money from Kenny for some random thing and maybe Carol will say "hey don't do that" but nothing comes of it and there's no getting it back. I also see him "borrowing" Kenny's stuff in general like his PSP and Kenny has to hide it from him. He's not really intentionally an asshole but he's kinda a pain in the ass stupid older brother that adds to Kenny's stress occasionally. Yanno what I mean.

Also just see Kevin as the one to move out and disappear as soon as he's old enough to. Probably has the most tension with their dad, because... he's white trash and fights back? I guess? Which is compounded by one of the few scenes of him there is in the show. There's really not much to go off of with him in the show either so there's that too, so I am generalizing to a degree.

Kenny's dad is almost always a major touchy spot and source of issues, not just for Kenny. Like it's kind of a given. Most of the physical fighting happens between his parents especially when alcohol is involved, but I really have a hard time not thinking there'd be a few incidents if shit gets really bad. Like booze and drugs??? Some shit's bound to really blow up.

I normally picture Kenny not having many, if any, physical altercations with his dad, but I think his dad would totally just start bitching at him a lot of times, being jaded and complaining about money and demanding shit ("you have so much time to go hang with your friends you could be making money to pay for all this food you kids fucking eat"). Kenny generally ignores him, but it's anxiety inducing and at worst extremely frustrating. There's a lot more negative memories than good and I always see Kenny having some really fucked up internalized anger because he would leave instead of lashing out. Even grown up he wouldn't confront unless it was to protect someone else from getting hurt.

Like Kenny doesn't hate him but he wishes both his dad and his mom could stop drinking and taking their anger out on each other at the very least.

But maybe sometimes he does hate him. We can have a little hate and violence as a treat.

Carol is just stuck and forced to pick up the slack working long evening shifts and stuff like that, so no one's around to make the kids dinner, and she's usually too tired or checked out drinking, or arguing with Stuart on other days, to do too much. So homecooked meals are very rare, cleaning is sparse, and most times she just looks so tired and defeated just barely getting by. She expresses love and affection more, and the worst she would intentionally do is smack Kenny's arm. Sometimes she gives Kenny some tough love type of scolding, which could be a little something he can relate to with Kyle. Sometimes she sounds so sad though when she says nice things like that Kenny's her "sweet little boy", like she knows he's forced to look after himself and help look after Karen.

Kenny will come home late at night from hanging with friends or anything and his mom will be passed out alone on the couch on her stomach, just the glow of the old TV flickering some late-night infomercial no one's watching and reflecting on empty bottles and crap on the coffee table and Kenny just sighs. (This scene has been on my drawing list for years but at this point fuck it lmao)

Given their parents being like that, Karen grows up very anxious and unsure, and Kenny really is her rock until she gets older. :(

And KenNY... The idea of him fucking taking on the parentified child role and having to keep his shit together because he's gotta look out for Karen. He's gotta do shit like get Karen medicine when she's sick. Goes to the laundromat to clean their clothes because they don't have functioning machines at home (been there, it sucks). And he doesn't say shit about any of it, not the bruises, not the severity of drinking, not the having to escape his house because of the yelling. Until suddenly one day out of the blue he'll laugh and say his dad would've beat his ass if he did xyz and then doesn't explain or mention it again.

Yeah. Like that :)

BUT DON'T GET ME WRONG. I think more wholesome, nice stuff with all them is good too lol. I promise. I don't want anyone to assume this means I think other ideas/interpretations are "wrong". Kevin could be a derpy well-meaning brother too. Yanno.

Like I wish I could look at them and not only think of domestic violence and not wanting to be home, but like I said in my other post, my old edgelord hcs of yesteryear remain most heavily in Kenny's family. I just really love me some Kenny angst like that lol.

[clevercatchphrase]

Cheers to a decade

My blog is 10 years old today. I have some thoughts.

On Januray 22nd, 2015, I made this tumblr blog. I remember it being my second semester of my senior year in college and feeling lost and depressed in my dorm room. Despite being in the class of 2015, I had technically graduated the winter prior, having come in to college with enough AP credits from high school to be ahead a semester. I remember not being ready to become an "official" adult yet. Despite having a degree, I didn't feel like I had enough choices in my future, so I stayed an extra year (3 semesters) and got a second degree before finally just being too sick of college life to stay there any longer.

I made this blog to practice art, but in truth, I think it was to distract myself from existential dread of being bottle necked into an occupation I didn't want with little to no choice of upward movement. I can't remember my exact thoughts, but I have a strong feeling it was along the lines of "if I can't get a job I like with my entomology degree, then I will practice art and try my luck as a freelance artist!" Not that freelance is any easier than an hourly paid 9 to 5, but at least it let me feel like I had more options.

It's so surreal scrolling back to that very first year. I posted a lot more frequently and did a lot more doodles and sketches and figure drawings back then. I didn't care about scheduling or queuing posts. I saw a cool tutorial? Neat, I'm reblogging this right now. just pumped out a 2 minute doodle of an animal, and it's going up on the blog immediately. I did more art challenges. Heck, I made a 50 day art challenge for homestuck and DID it! I made my very first long form song comic less than a month after creating this blog. It was for kingdom hearts set to the song "king" by Lauren Aquilina (which was almost certainly inspired by the LoZ song comic made by caffeineandcarpaltunnel set to the same song 2 years prior. (and I don't even play loz, I just liked the song)). I can't help but question myself; "where did all this motivation go?" "Where did all that passion go?" "Now I only post one piece of art a week and queue all the other stuff in november only." (Well, I didn't start doing that last thing until 2022, so I guess I can always revert my neurotic habits). But then I have to remember that until the summer of 2016, I didn't have a job. I didn't have bills. I lived in dorm rooms and off of college loans that funded my meal plan. Any time I wasn't studying or hanging out with other Cepheids (shout out to the 3 of you who know what that means) I was undoubtedly on the internet, enjoying what the 2010's web had to offer.

Can you believe youtube hadn't officially been around for 10 years at that point? musical.ly hadn't merged with TikTok yet because TikTok hadn't even been created in 2015. Vine still existed. This blog is even older than Undertale's official release.

I can't help but think of my life in "chunks" or "eras", some based on where I lived at the time, some based on the state of the world at the time, but a majority of it based on the media I was obsessed with at that time. (For example, 1998 to 2002 I refer to as the "hawaii era" because my family was military and we were stationed in Hawaii.) Shorter eras can also exist within bigger eras, like 2016 to 2020 is my zoo era, because I was a part time zookeeper, but it exists within my undertale era, which is still ongoing (this hyperfixation has a choke hold on me). So whenever I am given a date, I cross-reference it with what era of my life it occurred in, comparing it to my mental state and what was happening with my life. This blog started in my homestuck era (which went from early 2011 to late 2015) and it fucking showsssssss.

Another example; some of the earliest art on this blog was for Kingdom Hearts, because I am a KH fan. KH3 released in 2019. My blog had just turned 4 years old THREE days prior in 2019. KH3 will be SIX years old three days from today. 2019 was before the pandemic. I was still at my zoo job. Ghost switch wasn't even 1 year old yet. It's this kind of mental math that I am constantly doing for everything all the time whenever I have a date to compare to. Why do I do this? I have no clue. To measure up progress or advancements? To contrast what I've accomplished in that same amount of time versus what others have achieved? I don't know, but I've always done it and I will never stop. The endless forward march of time bewitches me so in this way.

Looking at the years and dates, remembering how it overlapped with my time in college and the memes of the early 2010s, which reminds me of my college era (fall 2011 to spring 2016) which brings up a whole well of other memories, like the world ending in 2012, the let's players I'd watch because I didn't have a gaming console or tv in my dorm, the basketball concessions I'd volunteer at to pay for my ticket to go to the student-run convention in the spring, the libraries and computer labs and dining halls, and shitty dorm room thermostats in winter and it's blaring fire alarms that would go off at 3 am because people microwaved popcorn wrong, and the time it rained so hard on campus that the basement hangout zone flooded.

Man... this whole thing got melancholic. I thought it would be nostalgic, but now it feels like I'm doing an elephant walk for my own blog (again, shout out to the three of you who knows what that even means). I don't know if my past self would recognize or approve of who I am now. And yet, I also can't say i've changed all that much. I still live at home with my family because I can't afford a house of my own. I still keep up with the youtube channels I subscribed to in 2013. I still check in on the webcomics that went on indefinite hiatus in 2010. I still use the same deviantart account I made in 2007. I still log on to my neopets account that I made in 2004.

This blog has been with me through a third of my life.

I don't know what I'll do when I finish Ghost Switch. (which will still take me 6 more years to finish, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere soon). Maybe i'll go back to posting shitty little doodles that I drew quickly in 2 minutes to practice figure drawing. Maybe I'll finally learn to code and make that visual novel I've been brainstorming since 2017. Maybe I'll make more (shorter) webcomics with my own OCs. Maybe I'll sit down and actually seriously think about professionally editing and querying a few of those novel drafts I wrote for nanowrimo, which I've also done for 10 years now, too. Maybe I'll come out of the closet and finally embrace the fact that I am a furry and draw nothing but anthro wolves and dogs.

Last year, I pulled out 10 old composition notebooks that I used as diaries for the years 2005 to 2010. This covered the beginning of seventh grade for me, to the end of 11th grade. Rereading these journals was simultaneously the most hysterical things I've ever written as well as the most depressing shit I've ever written, but that's just middle and high school for ya, babe. Still, I bring it up because when I look back on the past, I never know what I will think or feel about the past in hindsight. Seeing so many informative and hilarious posts from those early years fills me with great joy and also great sorrow, because those times are gone now. The internet landscape has changed so much, tumblr included. I do wish I could go back, sometimes. To go back to being so care-free, to relive those highs fandoms gave me when everything was new and exciting and happening Right Now, to be less stressed out about the state of the world, to laugh at stupid nonsensical rage comic memes.

But I also want to stay right here. To be proud of how far I've come, to appreciate what I've accomplished so far, and to remind myself that Today is good, too. I don't want to waste all my time wishing to go back to the past, because in 10 years from now, I'm going to wish I could come back to Now.

Do I even think tumblr will still be around in 2035? Probably. We're kinda like a roach like that, and also i've got some posts queued for 2033 that i need to see go live for The Bit.

Anyway, to end this reflection on a more positive note, thanks for hanging around for so long. We're all stuck on this glue trap together, but I'm glad I'm with you. These last 10 years have been interesting and wild, both on and off the internet, and I hope the thrills don't stop anytime soon.

[preciousmomentsfigurine]

hey, is anyone still here? looks like the last time i was on here was two years ago and change. things are really different now, but i guess then again it would be weird if they were the same

i was thinking of returning to this dead site because for a good fifteen years it was a big part of my life and provided me with a unique way to express my thoughts and ideas and feelings and opinions and musings to an audience of people who can hear me but not truly know me outside of my words that i share on this platform. and on the same coin i enjoy following the lives of people i know nothing about and watching their stories and selves develop and evolve from a complete distance in every sense

i'm five months sober now

i have a hard time pinpointing when exactly i became an alcoholic, but i guess i could say i dealt with it in some degree for about eight years, and progressively, as it always goes

i graduated with my masters last may (2023) in critical media studies where i spent my time writing and researching feminist cultural social and media theory. i produced a great deal of work i was and am very proud of including a thesis that is honestly my life and heart's work but unfortunately over the course of those two years my drinking escalated rapidly and by the end i was manically and drunkenly banging out papers and essays in the dead of night sleepless and naively inspired

somehow i got a 4.0 though despite that. everyone in my life always says i played off my drinking well anyway. beats me how or why

once i graduated i practically immediately began drinking all day every day while somewhat-hardly-kind-of-not-really looking for work which was fruitless and i quickly learned my degree i worked so hard for meant practically nothing to employers who were merely looking for experience i dont have outside of my teaching background in grad school

for almost exactly a year i was drunk 100% of the time i was awake

same old story, at some point i switched to bottom shelf pints of vodka, which constituted my breakfast lunch and dinner. sat on my couch in my filthy apartment occupying my filthy poisoned failing body either watching tv or causing problems somehow

this was when i was twenty-nine. for a while now i had known in my heart of hearts i wasnt someone who would ever be able to handle my liquor or drink like a normal person, whatever that means, and that too much was never enough, and that it was literally impossible to function so long as booze was a part of my life. any attempts to "cut back" or "take breaks", i knew, would end the same way, which was waking up to shots of room temperature vodka and being a prisoner to the worst shame a person can feel

i figured once i turned thirty, which was this march, that would probably be about the time i got sick of my own shit and said goodbye to the bottle. which i undeniably felt a kind of affection toward as if it were a lover. still do in a sense and thats why ill never flirt with it again

my sobriety date is april 16th 2024. my last drink was a shot of vodka at 8:30 am on the 15th after creating massive gashes in my upper arm the previous evening during a blackout fight with my boyfriend

im still unemployed and extremely mentally ill and my bipolar has gotten progressively worse over the past couple of years and will likely continue to according to what the science says and all of that. after my last manic episode last month i adjusted my meds (again) and for now they seem to be working but i don't hold my breath really

i do AA and i like it a lot, i do it my own way, i have a sponsor who approaches the program liberally and progressively and shares many of my comorbidities and has allowed me the freedom to define my relationship to the program and god in a way that works for me and i have made incredible strides through this. i have become a far far far better person.

being sober is easy and i never want to drink. not once not ever

ive never worked so hard on myself in my life because i got as close to death as i ever had and ive been very close at many points in my life for many years. when i was drinking i knew i wouldnt make it to see 35 if i continued as i was

therapy, AA, meds, a whole fucking lot of discipline

ive been with my boyfriend for two years and wed like to get married. thats nothing that will happen anytime soon but it is nice to think about. he has been by my side through unimaginable things that any sane person would not have stuck around for. he is my heart and my soul

im also trying to start applying for jobs again but im genuinely on the fence if i am capable of holding a full time job due to my severe mental illness. im exploring a bunch of options right now as far as that whole thing goes. the future is very uncertain as always

let me know if you see this or remember me or anything.

bye for now

[sasukesgucciflops]

Here I am back on my John Marston BS.

I pointed this out before ab how ppl loved calling John “watered down” but I’m also seeing people forget that he was also put on a very high fucking pedestal and had no idea how to handle it. In other words; he was the gifted kid who got burnt out after everyone expected everything from him. John never expected to be seen as such. He actually preferred to not be held to such a degree. I’m sick and tired of people feeding into the “John’s a golden boy” “John’s a piece of shit” narrative. Clearly these people have only seen RDR2 and have no clue about everything in RDR1 and yes I’m giving an attitude so y’all better catch it.

Here’s my John Marston character analysis and this is only about one aspect of him. (Wait until you see every other aspect bc I’ve literally dissected this man like a frog oops)

He never fucking asked for it. In fact, he didn’t expect jack shit from anybody. If anything, people used him. People used him up. You see it plainly in rdr1, he’s being used to hunt down his old partners. To find his old partners he’s gotta ask the sheriff, what does the sheriff do? He uses him to handle some lowlife gangs around the county. The sheriff ACCIDENTALLY—not even voluntarily—reveals someone that ends up somewhat helping him out. West Dickens—and what does he do? Uses him. Seth? Uses him. Travels over to another country, what do they do? USE HIM!

Okay, so rdr2—if you couldn’t get the picture already—John was one of Dutch’s MAIN PAWNS. That man raised John to USE HIM. John was young and had lots of energy and he was gullible enough to let Dutch do whatever with his naivety. The most fucked up thing about all of it, not only about how (almost) everyone saw him as a pawn, not as a genuine friend, saw him only for his uses;

John didn’t care. He knew he was being used but he didn’t care. Yes it bothers him and again he’s fully aware he’s being ran around in circles by all these people; it doesn’t matter. He sees himself as someone who is replaceable. He’s expendable. It’s whatever. He was always made to think this and perhaps he knew that it was his fate to be all used up and thrown out like it was nothing. And that’s what ended up happening.

No, he wasn’t a perfect father. He SHOULDVE done much much better about that. Just for that I let anti’s breathe a little because in Jack’s younger years, hell no John wasn’t a good father! John was in denial, busy trying to live up to his dreams of being someone he isn’t. On that note, John slowly realized that Abigail and Jack were probably the only ones that didn’t see him as a pawn; they just wanted him to be present and that causes him to do a 180. To him, it was worth dying for them. Maybe he felt as if he owed them a debt that could never be repayed—it’s almost like he expresses this to Jack a dozen different times. “I’m sorry, Son. I’m not going anywhere.” And “I know I wasn’t around a lot for you but I’m trying to make up for that”. He becomes viscerally aware of the damage of his absence (as he should) and it becomes something he fears he’ll never get to make up for.

Abigail never wanted to use him. She just wanted HIM. Jack—OF COURSE never wanted to use him, he wanted a FATHER. Honorable mention, but Arthur never saw him as a pawn either. In fact, he was well aware of how John was being treated, even mentioning it to him canonically, along the lines of, and I’m loosely quoting this, “At first you’ll be a prize pony until you become a work horse”. These people become so important to John—among others such as Bonnie, Charles, Sadie, even Uncle—because they never tried to use. him. John was more than expendable to them, he was worth something to them and for that he loved them and felt as if he would owe them for eternity.

I truly can’t believe some of y’all completely miss that whole point because it’s written EVERYWHERE it’s literally how John’s story goes and we experience it with him. His story is so fucking tragic and yes, while Arthur was the prime example of “having a doomed narrative from the start”, people don’t talk about how John is literally in the same boat. That man was always doomed, by his friends, the people he would try to call family—he was raised all the way up just to be put down…. THAT’S the story of John fucking Marston.

[lucabyte]

ADORE your Siffrin gender essay. I appreciate the focus on using direct lines from the game and providing references. You put into words well from what I saw in the game as well and explained it all really well.

Very sidenote from but hell yeah aroace Ash

*does a sick kickflip and high-fives you*

yeah evidence is swag i love evidence. I don't know how else to put it LMAOO. okay let me try and be coherent

I think as an OC creator first and foremost I interact with canon characters, especially of smaller works like this, with a very "what was the author intending? what did they want to tell me, the audience?" mindset.

I specify as like, as an OC creator because of like... I think its a dual-pronged thing.

I know what it's like to write a guy and try and imbue them with knowledge that i Have but they will never be able to just Say Aloud Via Their Mouths (because some characters will just never say some things), but that there's always evidence for the authorial intent SOMEWHERE if you can just triangulate enough pieces...

I have a big beautiful playground full of guys to project my identity unto whenever i want to (hits a larger than average number of my ocs with the aroace nonbinary beam) and that means both a. I come to (well-written) canon characters with a mindset that, oh thank god, they AREN'T mine. I get to use this to explore someone else's mindset, try and decenter my own experience, practice whatever empathy they are leading me to practice. and b. I've already learned that variety is the spice of Character Creation and i'm on the prowl for new things I haven't already made or seen. And amab NBs are not. Commonly seen. So I latched onto that motherfucker like a crocodile about to death roll him and started scouring for supporting evidence.

So yeah. I come at the text with I think, a slightly different angle than the usual "just playing in the fandom space for fun". which like. i AM having fun. i almost feel bad how much fun i'm having, sorry to my ocs who are collecting dust LOL. But it does mean I'm presumably coming at this from a weird angle to begin with, thus, my want to treat it like a more academic endeavour where I Cite my Sources and point out where I'm getting my ideas from.

I also like. haven't interacted with fandom at large for. a number of years. so my barometer on how much I have to explain myself is WACKY. this is what you get from only hanging out with lit and classic students who can't make a gay catboy without psychoanalysing them to the Nth degree. But again I'm having fun so we stay silly.

And i am SO glad that i wasnt the only person drawing these conclusions. Glad to see people immediately going "oh yeah i thought this!!" because like. i dont read other peoples meta. i had NO idea if this was just gonna like. go down like a lead balloon because I'd stepped on everyone's collective toes instead. Glad it does not seem to have in these first couple hours at least

also yeah sidenote god ash ketchum is so aroace. He's only got time for one partner and that's his pokemon partner motherfucker. No time for romance he's on that Seeing The Wonders Of The World Grindset. that complete blank nonreaction to being kissed by serena never fails to make me lose my shit thinking about it. sorry girl you have bet on the wrrrooooong ponyta

[beatsboy]

8.19.24 / day 57 of being a delusional artist

day 5 of moon time

today was chaotic, i was under slept, it was 90 degrees outside, and yet, i still carved out time for my art, albeit at the end of the day, and i almost managed to eat a meal before 11am (even though i’d been up since 8). the problem is not when i wake up, i don’t even mind if i get up late, it’s that i keep getting stuck in holes. in hyper fixations. and not the good kind. like the kind that makes your fear of contamination worse and worse every time you open instagram. like the kind that makes grocery stores a battle ground.

today in therapy, we talked about my obsessions, compulsions, and how they’ve been inhibiting my daily life lately. it feels like it’s always about control, unless it’s about my father. i did realize today in therapy, that, because my father controlled me for so much of my life—even when i rebelled, and sometimes especially when i rebelled—i relied on him to inform me of what was real, what wasn’t, what was good, bad, immoral, etc and now i have to figure these things out for myself.

instead of asking myself what i think, though, i ask the internet. i look for experts to validate any side, either side, any opinion, just tell me it’s right and true and real. like my dawn dish soap. i don’t really give a shit if it’s poisonous or not, i’d just like to know if i need to stop using it. it’s more than the dawn dish soap, though. and it’s about more than controlling my environment in a post-addiction life. it’s about the root of the problem: i don’t trust myself anymore. or, maybe i never did, i’m not sure.

i don’t really think i trusted myself back then, i think i more so just leaned into the chaos of it all and let go. sure, substances helped to embrace this chaos. my (same) therapist at the time told me that she thought perhaps i didn’t want to let go of my attachment to being a hot mess. she was right, of course. that was a difficult part of myself to let go of since it was inextricably tied to being accountable for my actions, and responsible for actual growth and change. it was easier to cry about my ex, fuck his friends, and blame it on how much i drank. same as it was easier to go into a k hole in my bedroom and have video sex with strangers on the internet, shoving a dildo up my ass until i feel something, barely able to remember it the next day when i go to work, than to simply be alone with myself at night, in a time when everything was closed, and i had no one else to talk to.

so, alas, now, that i am not an unhinged addicted closeted transsexual, i have let go of much of the chaos, and yet, i have found myself bound to an order that does not always serve me. there are rules in my head, spirals that lead to rabbit hole upon rabbit hole of research and internet deep diving, only to come out with no answers. i still don’t know if crocs are toxic, if dawn dish soap is poisoning me, or if receipts put forever chemicals in your bloodstream just by touching them, but there are some things i cannot afford to worry about, and those things are taking up so much space in my brain it is hard to see anything else. yes, we are talking about if i have ocd or not, i think it might just be the autism though if i’m being honest like, i haven’t always been so afraid of food and contamination things, it’s really developed more and more since covid. that’s when i developed an intense fear of getting sick (i remember taking a full shower and stripping my clothes in the garage the first time i was exposed) and working in healthcare where i had to be exposed was not fun during that time, so i just tried to learn as much as i could to feel as in control of the situation as i could, because i was so scared of getting it. when i got the call that i was getting my vaccine, i literally cried. and now, i know i’m immunocompromised, and the vaccine is not t h a t effective on me and i’ve had it like 3 fucking times and i’m even more scared now because of that so yeah

and i mean i want to believe that it’s the food poisoning me, that it’s my dish soap, or my polyester clothing because even removing every single ounce of plastic from my life is easier than going through the american healthcare system when you don’t know what’s wrong with you and i do know parts, i know about my eds, which has helped explain a lot, and i know that my digestion is s l o w but i don’t know w h y so that’s fun

through all this fear, nonetheless, and realizing that my fear and internet rabbit holing was a way to fill the void where i used to have a father, i still sat down and made art today. i opened ableton, i worked on choirboy, which is, in a way, a song in reference to my father, and myself, of course. i wonder what he would think if he heard it.

[magnoliamyrrh]

tw: csa, abuse etc. feel free not to answer this, as i know its private!! i also have a very abusive family, i was sexually assaulted by my brother in law when i was 15/16 and he is still in the family. my stupid sister decided to go ahead and have another baby with him even after she knew lol so like. i just bid my time until i can tell everyone to fuck off. i dont have direct contact w him, but i have to deal w his stupid children when i visit my parents and my stupid ass sister. obviously my situation is way less dire than yours, but it already kills me inside. ik you mentioned in the past you were trafficked by a family member and was sexually abused by family too, so what im asking is if you still have contact w the person who did it? i got way better after i was able to put distance, but the fact that i know he is still around makes me sick. i wish i could just put a bullet on his head. i wish i could kill him. i wish i could run him over and set out a hit on him. i wish i could kill my fucking sister too, for being a useless piece of shit.

this is just some random info i hope you find funny in a dark sad way like i do. i cant be around my sister for long that it raises my blood pressure to the point i get nose bleeds that wont stop. my bp goes like 23 or 20/18 or something like that. crazy high. literally puts me under so much stress i am at risk of a fucking heart attack from being around her cunt ass.

hope u can run away from them and make your own life at some point. wishing you the best xoxo

hey anon!! tks again for sending the message and im truly sorry to hear abt what happened to you & the betrayal of your sister as well. its always horrible when women even moreso family members who should care about you choose to protect predatory and shit men over u 😵‍💫 happens way too often and you have every right to be angry af at her bc its disgusting and selfish enabling behavior. hope karma is gonna hit them soon and youll get to witness it all lol ,,,, and girl 😭 u gotta be Careful i dont want u to die of a heart attack like this it aint worth it 🤣😭😭 but i getchu!! the sorta stress from this shit can take a Hugeee toll on ur body tbh i think thats why i feel so exhausted too all the time lately its the stress and physical toll of flashbacks and shit

to answer ur question it was my bio dad and for the most part i aint got contact w him no more. we're in two different countries now which helps for sure but when i go back to my birth country its almost always an issue when it comes to seeing him. he used to show up uninvited or my family would force him around and shit. but uh then for some years tho not too many that stopped happening but at the end of last year i had to see him because i wanted to see my grand geandmother who was sick and potentially dying and he was there. i chose to put up with it because i would have regretted not seeing her more. the whole thing was,,,, A Lot and exhausting and triggering and since then ive kinda been in the trauma trenches again 🤷‍♀️ being around him for that long for the first time in years definetely set sometimes off. but. yea. its hard. its hard to avoid because of that and i probably wont feel truly free from it until the day when he fucking croaks ://// which i keep waiting for. and rn i live w my mom and bio dad which isnt fantastic either bc we have a rough history too tho nothing to the same degree, its just another thing that stresses me out tho and that i wanna get away from

tks for the message girl again i appreciate uuu <3 and it does make me feel better to know someone also feels similar even tho i wish u had never been through this. take care of urself ok!!! one day were both gonna get out and we wont have to b around ppl who traumatized us anymore and well b able to breathe!!!!

[rawliverandcigarettes]

One thing that becomes clearer and clearer every time I dare to dip back into The Empire of Preys, is that it's a story for... almost nobody.

(beware: I express a ton of feelings regarding the series under the cut, not all of them positive --and I talk a little bit about my current relationship to the Mass Effect fandom)

Don't get me wrong: I adore it, I am still extremely puzzled at how my brain even began to conceive a story like that, and the first chapter is a complete banger in my honest opinion, and the characters are uncomfortable in a very interesting way, and the worldbuilding is extremely dense with things I hope are meaningful, but.

It's also... pretty hostile to readership? By that I mean: I don't think it can be read passively. A big part of reading TEoP is, first, to understand how systems function normally; and then, understand how these systems interact altogether, how they can be abused, how they are actually abused, and what chain of events these systems will lead to. I am really proud of this interconnectivity --at the same time, it is incredibly dense and demand work. For all the fun and games I can try to inject in there, there are basic principles that can't skip being understood well for the plot to make sense; it's a politically driven story in the dryest possible way --with disaster bisexuals and fashionistas sprinkled on top to lush it up a little, but at heart it is a story about systems interconnecting from the bottom to the top, and it's a tangled mess in there.

So it's... If I'm being honest, and in spite of my genuine love of it, I have to admit it is a little hard to dedicate myself to pushing it further to the degree of polish that it needs. Not to say I won't do it --I will-- but it's impossible not to notice how *barren* the Mass Effect community has gotten in the last couple of years, this year being particularly bad. The readership was barely there anymore when Halfway Home got out, and I'm like... who's even left in there to read 200k worth of words of salarian/turian/asari politics in excruciating detail? Who's even interested in peeling up that toxic system of governance and how soft imperialism manifests in that universe? I still am, because I am invested in that version of Mass Effect and the characters I have put together in that context. But who else?

Of course, there's always this thing of "don't write for an audience, write for yourself", and I'm an absolute follower of that mentality. However.

However.

(oops here comes a condensed version of that Halfway Home post-mortem I promised six months agoooo)

Halfway Home was *hard work*. It's work I decided to go through on my own, and I knew from the start it wouldn't reach that large of an audience --on virtue of being stupid long, about an OC (and a salarian at that, who cares), and having a trigger warning list longer than most people would find reasonable. I am happy that I did the work, and that I chewed the text over until I was absolutely sick of it --but it was basically the best version of what 7 years worth of change and growth and experimentations could get to before absolute burnout. And I am even happy about the readership! I had wonderful comments and I am truly honored that some people invested in that story to the degree they did, and I am fully aware that stories that take much more work get even less attention on the daily. But I would lie to say that I kind of felt... drained, when I saw that I had, indeed, taken too much time to complete it, and the fandom was basically dried up when I finally released it. Watching seven years of my life disappear down the Ao3 drain felt... Well, I won't lie. It felt kind of bad. It felt kind of like grief.

At the end of the day, it is true that nobody ever cares more about your story than yourself --and again, I am neither fishing for attention nor am I really complaining, even. It is a difficult story to sell and to read through, and I always knew the readership would be extraordinarily slim (and it did find it, and I am beyond uwwuuuuwuwu about it, truly ;;). I knew all of that going in. But I also won't lie that fandom timing was... horrendous --and it is even worse today. The fact that I have *barely* seen a hint of speculation on my dash from the latest N7 trailer does kind of say something as well. Sometimes, things come and go. And I suppose that's okay.

But what of The Empire of Preys? What of my deep care for the characters? What of my (I think, understandable) reluctance about jumping in to the next installments, knowing *for sure* that I'll be lucky if I graze 500 hits on Ao3? And that's me being beyond generous, honestly? I wish I didn't care about that, but I guess I do, a little. I also think it's understandable, wanting to work on things and see an impact from whatever you do --even if it comes from love and care. I'm glad I got to do it once, but do I want my literal masterpiece (I know the wording is strong, but I genuinely think TEoP is the best thing I ever did, counting my professional work that will be experienced by a *much* larger audience, and I have zero ideas how I could top it off conceptually given it felt like everything was being served to me in a trance-like state) being sandwiched between futanari porn and a story about a... certain main pairing being plastered absolutely everywhere and tending to suck all the oxygen in the room. No hate to either concept in particular, I actually like the coexistence of everything, it's part of what's cool about fanfiction! But, also. Also.

I suppose it is the curse of having a brain that works best creatively in the context of fandom --and daring to believe in the importance and necessity of creativity for its own sake, without monetary gain. But also, the very human entitlement thing of... not wanting to pour all of its life energy into a black hole.

It's complicated. I do not have a good answer as of now, at least regarding TEoP. I will keep on working passively on it as of now, once in a while, rediscovering it's genuinely really good from time to time and then moving away from it somewhat, until next time. I'm still doing Zelda stuff as of now, which... has been way more rewarding creatively, not gonna lie. It's a fandom full of lifeblood, with ideas bouncing around, people wanting to meet up, boundless creativity. I have written a micro-trilogy this year (it's here if that interests you), and, while in the same ballpark of attention than Halfway Home, it was undeniably more rewarding. I think I also needed to change mediums --I am currently experimenting with animatics, visual storytelling and extremely humble 2D animations, and I'm having a blast.

So... Yeah. I am fairly certain I will complete The Empire of Preys, because I love it deeply and I want to complete it, for its own sake if anything. But in regards to a timeframe... I'm not promising anything. It will happen. Not sure when! I'm following where creativity feels the more urgent at the moment.

But one day, this is a story that will exist, at the very least, and I think I'll love it deeply as well no matter how it's received. But I think I need a little bit of a positive feedback loop right about now, and so to work on projects that like... will be read. Or watched. Or played. Or experienced. And I'm not positive The Empire of Preys will be that for me, at least right now.

[johnwicklover1999]

oooo everyday i wake up and grit my stupid fucking teeth and brush my stupid curly hair and i must look myself in the face and i lament how i have come to worrying over doubting my grandpa because the cherokee are the largest tribe in the us and also famously known as "the tribe that pretendians claim to be" oooo i must acknowledge my being mixed to high hell and having zero cultural attachments to any of my lineages and i must worry if i will ever be, or if i am a 'real' cherokee or if i am nothing more than a cherokee princes pretendian and my grief, yearning, mourning, self-doubt, distrust, hatred, and very small moments of delight and joy so valuable i cling to them like lifelines, will always be for naught.

(heads up, i accidentally wrote a massive rant/vent under the read more, focused entirely on racial imposter syndrome and the like)

i experience the same thing being choctaw, but to a lesser degree.

it's just that the sheer magnitude of cherokee 'pretendians' makes me feel like no matter what, as an individual and in a community of any sort, i would be the pretendian in the room. the word pretendian has started to sound disgusting to me because of how long i spend fretting over the possibility that i am inherently a pretendian because of my mixedness and culture-less life. i want to reconnect, but do i have that right? will i ever have that right? am i a fool for asking any questions? should i know better?

i think a part of me hopes for this bizarre fantasy of someone of a culture/heritage of mine will for whatever reason have the authority to just tell me to quit and go home, and that i'm not a real whatever, so that at the very least my feelings will become irrational and i will stop having to try, because i have been given a definite answer that i do not belong

blood quantum creates weird fantasies i guess. it's like i'm just biding my time and waiting until the day(s) i can muster any kind of confidence or courage or whatever to do something big, and really make the effort, just for some full-blooded person to stand before me, push me back and tell me i'm not a real choctaw/cherokee.

and it's not like i really want that..? but it's such a reoccurring thought because that sense of imposter syndrome and the endless worry is always hounding me relentlessly, and has my whole life. and now there's more things to worry about and feel like an imposter of? i know i'm wasting time, energy, and opportunities because i'm so stuck in my head. so if i (or my anxieties) are right and i am a fake, a pretendian, then all of that time debating idiotic and plain mean "what if"s would lead me to a correct answer.

i guess i also fantasize about that so much because i'm deeply afraid of it. so terrified that i guess it starts to look like the better option, to have that fear come true and be final rather than spend my life fulfilling my dreams with the possibility of both denial and acceptance.

god idk, yesterday i had a really weird encounter with a teacher who was uncomfortably adamant that i am not native and class related stuff today just made that feeling worse so i've been sick with doubt, nerves/insecurity, and now grief.

(the weird encounter in question- there's a bit more context and whatnot, but this is pretty much it ⬇️)

dawg this shit is so fucked up

i have so much love for choctaw and cherokee people as wholes, and so many dreams and desires to give to the people, and to learn from them, and to find myself and find beauty in those two parts of myself through cultures i already find to be so, so beautiful. and yet i almost yearn to be denied validity in my ancestors just so i don't feel sick whenever the word "pretendian" is mentioned, just so all the fear stops and my mind will quit entertaining the ideas of entire peoples rejecting me just so i can be done with it all and let the hurt fester before eventually letting all my care, sentiment, and affections die so the intertwined yearning, mourning, hatred, fear, insecurity, and joy can cease, effectively severing the attachments i have developed to my cultures. that's kind of sick, right? under no circumstances do i want to live a life where the blood my differing ancestors gave me, full of life and blessings and heritage- beauty to take pride in, becomes meaningless to me. jesus fuck, that sounds awful!

[malachitezmeyka]

A few of the various iterations of Suiren in our Multiverse of Madness and the different things she is into, comprised into one (not so) neat list for my beloved @katkastrofa as part 1 of her birthday present (intended to be used as reference for a certain something 🤭👀 and also bc she said please when she reblogged my earlier post and who am I to say no to that? :D)

(Alternatively: Tumblr please don’t nerf me I beg you)

Under the cut for comfort reasons :’)

SotRL/post-SotRL – At first uses sex as an outlet for her frustrations, wanting it fast, rough and with as little feelings involved as possible. Merciless biter, loves attention on her tits, has a raging praise kink but would rather die than admit it. Touch her hair and you die (at first. After some time she’s okay with it being stroked or brushed out of the way, especially while she’s sucking Kuvira off). Generally rather sensitive and vocal so is very fun to play with, but she doesn’t let herself lean into it fully, and thus is extremely unaware of her submissive side. After she starts healing from her trauma and trusting Kuvira more, on the other hand… 🤭 She is still very much capable of domming or topping of Kuvira so desires, but for the most part she can’t get enough of letting herself be guided into the subspace and giving her brain a little break, willing handing Kuvira the control and trusting that she will be taken good care of. Discovers her oral fixation and leans into the praise kink, as well as riding Kuvira’s strap, having her tits fucked, imagining Kuvira being able to actually come down her throat or inside her, general BDSM stuff, bondage, light petplay, dehumanisation, ownership and edging. So, so much edging 🤤. It gets to a point when she’s not even too keen on coming at all, not wanting the experience to end. But she does love her orgasms, especially when she’s nice and full, so sooner or later she will end up begging for it anyway :D I very much might have missed something, but in my defence, there really is a lot to her

UtOS – Somehow, the complete opposite to SotRL Suiren. Extremely dominant, loves being in control and isn’t too fond of giving it up. Essentially, power bottom to Kuvira’s service top, though she does also love having Kuvira writhe on her water tendrils. Can and will use her bloodbending to her advantage once she finds out Kuvira likes being overstimulated, and heavily leans into the possessiveness kink by calling Kuvira hers as often as possible. Drops orders and light degradation as easily as breathing, and while she does enjoy being praised, it’s to a much, much lesser degree than her SotRL counterpart. Less being called a good girl and more being thanked for giving it to Kuvira so well. A bit of a sadist and somehow even more of a biter than usual. All in all… Grandma Ikiaq is a bad influence 😁

Ultimate AU – Looks like the dominance depends on the bloodbending rather than not being raised by Haya, because we’re back to something more closely resembling SotRL. Except here, Suiren is an impossible tease. Every Suiren knows full well that she’s attractive, but this is the only one who flaunts it quite as openly, wearing almost exclusively low cut dresses, putting an extra sway in her hips as she walks, always squinting at Kuvira in that seductive way… all that good stuff. And as a result of being a tease, she’s also one hell of a brat just begging to be tamed. She’s known nothing but freedom her whole life, so there’s little quite as enticing as the idea of having control forcibly taken from her. She likes being restrained after Kuvira gets sick of being teased and snaps, and fucked as roughly and thoroughly as possible. Most likely is incredible at giving tit fucks while her dress is still mostly on, just with her tits popped out. Is okay with having her hair pulled as long as it’s done lightly. The praise kink also isn’t that prominent, she’s much more into soft cuddles – in which Kuvira is *not allowed* to move as if a cat had fallen asleep in her lap – as a form of aftercare

MoA – I don’t have much on her bc this AU is rather underdeveloped, but she’s essentially pre-discovery-of-submissiveness SotRL Suiren, but even more repressed because the load she carried for her entire life was doubled and having to dispose of her abuser’s body after she was killed by her 15yo sister did absolute fucking wonders for her mental state. A bit more on the controlling side, preferring to take charge. Very into angry sex bordering on hatefucking, will ride Kuvira like her life depends on it to the point of hurt. Insults and death threats take the place of normal well adjusted flirting. Is nowhere near ready to be indulged in her even more well hidden praise kink, would probably claw Kuvira’s eyes out if she ever tried. Perhaps she should get a taste of Kuvira’s newly formed spirit cock and maybe she’ll calm down

Sacrifice AU – Easily the most vanilla out of all her counterparts. After her near death experience she’s extremely averse to all manners of being restrained, whether with metal cuffs or simply being held down. Her wrists are particularly sensitive, never to be grabbed. She doesn’t like being manhandled in any way, she gets to pick the position, and she picks something that will allow her to be on top and not trapped under Kuvira. Prefers grinding or humping to anything being inside her, be it fingers or a cock. Still just as obsessed with having her tits sucked, but it has to be lighter, not enough to leave bruises. She doesn’t like seeing bruises on herself. Praise kink to the max, anything to drown out the voices always shouting obscenities at her. Only while being called beautiful and desirable as she rides out her orgasm, clinging to Kuvira like a lifeline, does she actually feel alive again

Small rarely talked about bonus, Avatar Suiren AU – Living as an all powerful being with not one but two Great Spirits residing inside her gets very tiring very easily. Luckily, a certain someone is always willing to help her mind to drift away and her to lose herself in pleasure for a few hours. A bit more into degradation than praise. In those moments, she isn’t the Avatar, the master of all four elements, saviour of the world, and the memories of lives that came before her as well as those annoying Spirit kites’ constant bickering all fade away. No, in those moments she is simply Suiren, Kuvira’s Suiren, her beloved good girl. And nothing else could possibly matter

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

https://www.tumblr.com/yourtoradorasextendedwarranty/744177334270181376/so-i-am-a-bit-ashamed-given-modern-day-politics-to

I stopped reading at ‘center libertarian’ and just scrolled to the end to see what loli anime you’d shoehorn in considering libertarians love kids so much. You’d think you’d’ve put ‘pedophile’ on there considering how often you people fall under that umbrella, but hey.

Oh? So your a dishonest shit. Awesome.

So a couple of things. Libertarians are am extremely mixed bag of people. The people YOU are referring to are some anarchists and most leftists. Also libertarians are people that value freedom, and want limited government. Neither of those things has anything to do with pedophiles.

Also sounds like you don't know fuck all about what a pedophile actually is. Not fun fact however, I was abused as a kid, so I went out of my way later in life to find out "why". It was a process in which I studied psychology with a second goal of understanding why I was harmed. Effectively it was me taking my power back. And you know what I learned? I learned that the person that hurt me was sick in the head more than I originally knew.

Pedophiles like actual IRL kids. Loli is fiction. And it's almost uniquely anime in stylizing. Anime characters are humanoid but often do not look like actual humans. Their looks and personalities often being hyper exaggerated. One key misunderstand I see often is the idea that the primary reason pedophiles like kids is because of their size. This is actually disgustingly short of the actual story. Pedophiles are individuals that are generally mentally ill, actually traumatized to the point of emotional or mental stunting, which often includes CSA victims.

I'm one of the few that didn't end up completely f'd up and broken because of what happened. However, I learned by doing what effectively amounts to an understudy with several psychologists I know, and sat in on at least 6 sessions over a few years span of time (under an NDA to not disclose any specific personal data or names of people involved) dealing with actually pedophiles. 2 of which were doing therapy as part of their prison sentence, the other 4 non offending but actually seeking help. What I came to understand is that there's multiple kinda of people that become predators. The other thing I learned is that pedophiles "like" children because of primarily mental/emotional reasons. Because fun fact, if pedophilia was about "mostly body type" then they could literally just date people with dwarfism, or midgets. Because functionally that's be legal and they could still "get their kicks".

Loli is literal fiction of not real characters of which most lolis would never appeal to a predator. Why? Because two of the primary things they look for is "purity" which is to say mostly untainted by the world according to however they view that. The second is child like ignorance. Being extremely unknowing over all about most things. Pedophiles are ones that subconsciously or in some cases consciously, desire power over those they find attraction to. And the only type of person you'd ever have that kind of power over is a child. The other thing is they are often mentally or emotionally stunted to a degree that their proclivities never age with them. Regardless harming children is wrong. It's always wrong.

However, let's take a look at anime. Or Loli since it sounds like your projecting. As 90% of people that bitch about Loli and scream about it and equate it to pedophilia are often themselves found guilty of being a sex pest, or are found to be offenders themselves. However unlike you, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.

This is Rory Mercury from the anime Gate. She's over 900 years old if memory serves. She's also a Demi God in the patronage of a greater God. She thrives off violence and death in a literal way.

She's petit with no real curves. Definitionally she's a Loli (Which colloquially refers to a body type not an age). However, personality wise she's exceptionally mature, playful in a way you'd only see from an adult, worldly in get knowledge, and one of the furthest things from pure/innocent and ignorant. She's also extremely provocative, and her actions sometimes come across as lewd. Based on my sit-ins and my general research, pedophiles would not be interested in her. What's more she's fictional. So they wouldn't be interested regardless. I'd that to say, "Pedophiles can't be attracted to Loli at all"? No. But it's not common because most Loli characters don't look like real humans, and what's more even if there was a provable trend that said people with those desires did gravitate to Loli I should care why? It's literal fiction. No one can get hurt. And a drawing can be any age you want it to be. Here let's do this.

This character is a known character but I say he's actually named Derbin and his age is 400 he's a scientist who graduated from Princeton. He's fictional he can be effectively whatever I want. I could add small features to him as well. Like a hat. He's not real.

This is a known ish character who in going to say is actual 4 years old. She's cosplaying a detective on a play date with her dad.

Do you see my point? These are not real individuals in real life. They exist in fiction and can be drawn in many different ways. What's more of you fap to either, your not harming anyone.

But my rant about your blatant ignorance (possible projection) aside. Libertarians are not pedophiles. They are not a monolith nor do any of us view ourselves as such. And unlike you who'd likely waste tax dollars on having a person with Hatsune Miku porn raided by the FBI. I'd rather those resources go to stop ACTUAL children from being harmed. But your dishonesty and possible projection aside. Kindly fuck off.