#just write for days
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kairithemang0 · 5 months ago
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thinking about the fact school starts in around 2 weeks. i'm not ready to go back to hell
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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bi-writes · 11 days ago
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the new baby you take care of is the cutest baby you've ever met. (a lil dubcon, baby trapping, 18+)
he has a big head with a tuff of little blond waves, and he has the brightest brown eyes in the entire world. he smiles at every face you make at him, and he takes a bottle like a champ and will nap for hours as long as you're quiet.
his father has a strict schedule set for him. when you met that big man for the very first time, you were speechless. your teeth had clacked together with how fast you tried to close your gawking mouth, but it was impossible not to with how much he towered over you, nearly touching the top of the doorway.
he is methodical, down to every minute. tacked onto the fridge, he had shown you his son's current schedule, which he emphasized with a dead glare must be followed to a T.
two feedings in the morning followed by a nap. another feeding. a longer nap. another feeding. another nap. all separated in increments of 45 minutes, with instructions on how to use the bottle warmer and how to measure the formula.
his son does not cry. his father had told you, if he cries, y'r doin' somethin' wrong. and he was right. the baby only cried when he was hungry, and he would fall into a dead sleep as soon as you gave him a bottle.
it's odd, to take care of someone else's baby. especially this man's. there's no woman in the house, as far as you can tell. the whole house is decorated very minimally, cozy and in shades of warm greens and cool blues and browns. there are no heeled boots by the door or pretty fur coats, and whenever you pass by his bedroom, only one side of his bed ever looks lived-in. there are no pictures on the walls, no makeup in the bathroom drawers, and no pads or tampons under the sink.
just a big, unfeeling man and his big, adorable baby.
but you think that your actions to get this big, unfeeling man to like you are starting to have the wrong kind of implications.
it starts with dinner. you start to make it, using the ingredients from his fridge to make stews and buttery mashed potatoes and roasted veggies. the image of you stirring a pot with his baby on your hip has not left him, and whenever you don't have some kind of meal cooking when he gets home, you answer to someone curt, annoyed, and cold, even to the touch.
then it's the decorating. you thought his couch was a little bare, so now there's a few throw blankets laying across the back of it. there's a vase of pretty tulips on the coffee table. you're growing herbs on the windowsill, little pots of thyme and rosemary and basil. you leave house shoes by the door now, and even when you're not there, he sees those fuzzy pink slippers in the foyer, and he can't help the way he chubs up just seeing them when you're not around.
you start to bring some extra changes of clothes. after the baby spit up on you more than once in a day, you bring a duffel bag with you once a week with extra changes of clothes. he snarls when he sees your clothes in one of his drawers; pretty black panties and matching bras, all laid out under your lounge wear right next to his fucking socks.
the toothbrush next to his in the bathroom. the multi-colored chapsticks in the drawers. tampons and pads organized in the cabinet, your moisturizer next to his shaving cream. he smacks his fist against the wall when he sees the finished package of your birth control in the trash because wot the fuck are y'doing taking those things when y'know i want another--
he can see you in the baby monitor. swaying in the dark of his son's room, the baby's head on your chest as you rock him softly. you're singing a little, a gentle hum to soothe him enough that his eyes start closing. he groans a little when he sees your eyes shut as you kiss his son on the forehead, cooing at him as you pat his little back and tell him to have sweet dreams.
you're making brownies when he comes home that night. his son is seated in his high chair, clapping his hands, and you're smiling at him and cooing in that baby voice you do as you take the warm brownies out of the oven. when you see him emerge from the darkness of his living room, you smile at him, taking off the oven mitts.
"hi, simon," you say softly, and his pupils dilate when you slip a hand over his son's head to soothe him. "i made some dessert, hope that's okay. thought you might wanna try my new recipe."
simon comes into the kitchen as you take his baby out of his high chair. you hoist him up against your hip, and when simon comes closer, you giggle as tilts his head to the side and stares down at you both. you tilt your head back a little, blinking up at him, and the flutter of your lashes is enough to have him rock hard in his cargos as his hands curl into frustrated fists at his sides.
"i'm gonna put him down for bed, it's a little late," you tell him. you hoist his son up a little higher on your hip, picking up his little chubby arm and waving up at simon. "say goodnight, daddy."
simon grins under his mask at the soft lilt of your voice. you try not to squeak when one of his big hands slides around your waist to hold you at your back, and he bends down to kiss his son's forehead through his mask.
"goodnight, my boy."
you try not to linger on the idea that he may have grabbed your ass as you walked away. no, his arms are just so long, they grazed you while you passed by him.
the baby always goes down nice and easy. one bottle later, with a full stomach, he's rubbing his little eyes and fussing in your arms as he tries to fall asleep. he's a mover, simon's little one--always grasping around with his arms and flopping onto his side in the bed. oftentimes, after a nap, he's facing the opposite direction and on the other end of the crib when you come to get him.
so you shouldn't be surprised when as he's falling asleep, his little grubby hands reach for you and pull.
your eyes widen when you hear the pop of buttons. you look down, gasping, when you see his son has grabbed onto the front of your blouse and pulled the first few buttons out. they clatter onto the floor in a mess, and you're not able to see where they go with it so dark in his room.
"oh, god!"
you try to be gentle as you set the baby down in his crib. he immediately sticks his thumb in his mouth with his head lolling to the side, and you try to pick up anything you step on as you hurry out of the room, trying to hold your shirt together.
it's useless. you're standing there in the hallway, hastily shutting the baby's room closed, tits out at eight in the evening.
"tha' why he so good ta ya, mama?"
your eyes bug out of your head when you see simon there. he's standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, and his eyes are focused on your poor open blouse. the bra you're wearing leaves nothing to the imagination--just mesh with underwire, and when simon comes closer, there's virtually nothing separating you when he reaches up with that gloved hand and cups one breast, thumb smoothing over your nipple before he tugs on it gently.
"wha--simon--"
"thinks y'r his mum, pretty tits out like tha'," simon hisses. "'f ya wanted it so bad, why didn't ya just say?"
"simon--"
he tsks, using both hands this time to grip your blouse by the edges and tug it down your arms. it falls around your elbows, and he takes the straps of your bra with it, until it's pooled around your waist and your tits fall free.
"fuckin' hell," he breathes, and your lips part gently as he hikes up his mask and spits on your nipples before sucking them into his mouth. "mmmph..."
you arch your back as he rips the rest of the buttons off with one smooth tug. your blouse falls, and your bra follows it, until you're in nothing but your skirt, backing up into the darkness of his bedroom as he kicks the door shut. you scramble to get him back on top of you when your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you're laying down--grabbing around his shoulders as you try to guide his mouth back to your breasts where he can suckle on them with that filthy mouth of his.
"knew it--" he rasps. "fuck, i knew it--"
your eyes squeeze shut when he ruts his hips against yours. your panties are ruined, slick wet and digging uncomfortably into your folds, but the scratch of simon's jeans have your back bowing at a hard angle, your fingers sliding between your bodies as you reach for his zipper. you gasp when you feel him under your hand, straining against denim, the girth of him tying your stomach in hard knots as you think about what it'll take to get you open enough for him to slip in.
"keepin' me fat," simon murmurs. "holdin' my baby like tha', wot did ya think was goin' ta happen, eh?"
"h-huh?"
"'m gonna make you fat, too, swee'eart," he says, smoothing his hand over your tummy. "saw those little pills in y'r bag. it won't take today, but we'll try again tomorrow, yeah?"
you're drooling as he fucks you. your hips are hiked up, your skirt flipped up as his thighs smack against your ass. you're not privy to the way the fat of you shakes every time he's buried to the hilt, but simon appreciates it, tongue out as he watches you push back against him to try and get yourself filled quicker. he traces your spine with his fingers, leaning over you as he watches your fingers dig into his dark sheets and grip for dear life as he gives it to you fast and deep. it's a mess of wet between you, and you know the bed underneath you will be soaked by the time he's done with you, but you can't think about that when the very thing you've been wanting since the day you met him is so close, so within reach.
you haven't taken a single one of those pills since the first week you met that fat, beautiful baby. maybe simon didn't take too close a look at the dated little pills in your bag and in the bin, the little calendar you used to mark rotting away in a forgotten pocket, gathering dust.
when simon comes, your mouth is filled with saliva, and you gurgle between barely-lucid giggles as your hips sink into the mattress. he's saying something, but you don't hear it. instead you reach down with your fingers and stuff them inside, trying to gather as much of his cum and keep it. when simon tries to cum in your mouth later, you nearly bite his dick off.
how dare he try and waste it?
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tariah23 · 10 months ago
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The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.
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thebroccolination · 6 months ago
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I FUCKING LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP
Just for context, [Helluva Boss spoilers] Blitz and Fizz were childhood friends working at a circus who, due to an explosion, didn’t speak for fifteen years.
And on an unrelated note, Blitz has shown a consistent love for horses throughout the series.
When they rekindle their friendship, this happens:
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Blitz’s FACE. FIZZ’S FACE.
There’s no judgment in the world like best friend judgment, and no shamelessness like best friend shamelessness.
I love them so much.
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ronanlynchbf · 1 year ago
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tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY
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stealingyourbones · 3 months ago
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There’s a new drug in Gotham making the rounds, one synthesized by Two-Face’s people; if you take it you will have a 50/50 chance that you’ll experience the greatest high of your life or that you’ll die.
Batman is desperately trying to find the main lab and cut off the production from the source and hasn’t been able to find a lead in weeks.
That’s when Gordon gives him a file that was given to him by a “white haired ghost kid”. It’s a detailed report written similarly to a scientific journal with detailed sources that are mainly first hand accounts from deceased victims of the Two-Face drug.
At the very end of the paper there’s an address to a Gotham University dorm room with a sticky note next to it that says “if you need help with death or the undead. Yours truly; Danny Fenton.”
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zhelin-thames · 17 days ago
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Wrong Number texts #1
Danny: So then Skulker decides the best way to catch me is by building a giant robot suit. But he forgot to calibrate it for the Ghost Zone’s gravity, so it immediately toppled over and crushed his entire lair. Absolute genius, right?
Jason: I’m torn between laughing and feeling secondhand embarrassment for him. Do all your villains suck this much?
Danny: Hey, I don’t pick my rogues’ gallery. But yeah, most of them are either weird, incompetent, or trying way too hard. Vlad’s the only real threat, and that’s just because he cheats.
Jason: Billionaires always cheat. It’s in their DNA.
Masterpost
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howlsnteeth · 9 months ago
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24/05/2020
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paradox-n-bedrock · 9 months ago
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me in big fandoms: oh cool, it's so active and there's so many people to vibe with, this is amaz-
*finds my niche angle that appeals to approximately six people*
me: okay, folks, it's you and me now
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lonesomenecromancer · 15 days ago
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havent posted anything isat related in a while. have this
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toughbunnyforever · 9 months ago
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maybe try writing him a note next time idk
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yuwuta · 24 days ago
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omega satoru who purposefully makes himself sick and tries to trigger his own heat after hearing you’re going on a date or something with someone else there’s such a desperate need to have your attention all to himself. he doesn’t take his suppressants, he goes out of his way into crowded areas where he knows the mix of scents will agitate him and he paws at you all week before your date, each time more desperate than the last until his body finally breaks down and he’s borderline delirious, crying and cooing and nuzzling his nose into your neck and begging and begging and begging you to take care f him, to be his alpha
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month ago
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Look what we've become.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#jiang cheng#Initially I wanted to do a 'Mutiny' quote to follow the 'Luck runs out' quote.#But the musical earworms demanded a different blood to be drawn. And I think it works just as well.#Alright. It's time to confess something. I really struggled with this comic. I didn't want to draw it. Then I didn't want to upload it.#Because I knew I would be here in the tags writing and backspacing for hours trying to articulate my thoughts.#I'm going to talk about death and grief in the tags today so this is your WARNING to look away if you aren't in a headspace for it.#Sometimes in media there are scenes and characters which land on topics so specific to your wounds that it reopens them all over again.#Because here's the truth. When you've known someone like this for nearly your whole life...it doesn't matter how bad the fight is.#You always think 'We'll always have time. One day this dust will settle and we'll rebuild the bridge.'#And then the fucker dies!!! He dies and suddenly there will never ever be time to repair the rift.#Someone you loved died thinking you hated them. And part of you did just a bit. But love and hate aren't mutually exclusive.#He's fucking dead and you are left with so many broken and unfinished pieces between the two of you.#Jiang Cheng loses Wei Wuxian thinking that WWX thought they hated each other.#He's a younger brother who will one day be older than the person he lost.#Who has no one else in the world who understands those feelings of love and hate and grief.#I can't be normal about this character. I don't think he even heals me. Zero catharsis to be gained here.#I just look at his sour grape ass and think 'shit that's a little too close to home.' JC is my discomfort character.#I'm probably going to regret being this vulnerable in the tags in like. An hour. So. sorry if you see this once and never again.#EDIT: Yeah sorry this took 4 hours to muster the courage to post. Surprise update!#EDIT 2: You guys were being too nice to me on my sad comic to point out the spelling error. I have fixed it now B'*)
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karos-4art · 2 months ago
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me like heavy n sniper interactions... even tho they don't exist so i had to make myself one!!!
this is an idea from 2021 :D please enjoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
e x t r a s:
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draft from 2021 - october 2024
PANEL REDRAW!!!!
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cracklewink · 10 months ago
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Harmony Syndrome Part 5/5
The last chapter of my mlp infection AU! Thank you to everyone who followed along. Some final thoughts on my twitter @cracklewink if anyone's interested : )
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