#vertical planner

[ghostjournalss]

Wednesday 21st August 2024 🏙️

Todays going well 🌊 I’m honestly really tired but thats just how life is sometimes, the new job is going okay? I still strongly dislike the kind of people that work in law but it’s just something i will have to deal with for a while… other than that its good 😊

[calendarprintlab]

Portrait 2024 Calendar Printable: Manage every month of this year with a printable vertical calendar featuring all 12 months of the year. A portrait size planner is suitable for your mobile also which is your main assistant in day-to-day life. These printable calendars are your secret weapon to help you plan your days, set goals, and keep track of your busy schedule. Vertical calendars provide ample space for each day, making it easier to read and interpret your schedule at a glance. This design allows you to see your entire month's events without the need to flip through pages.

[parasolpaper]

Life's a Picnic Weekly Kit

[liskaclay]

🍓💙desserts in blue💙🍦

New set coming soon to the Etsy shop…

[moonsaver]

Secret.

Sunday finds his dear assistant covered in blood. The profession of your love is tainted.

TW; blood, mutilation, yandere and obsessive tendences, non/subcon(?)[just kissing].

Yandere!reader x Sunday.

A/n; a very short drabble i just worked on. I might make something similar for aventurine and the others.

It was the 5th.

Work had been scheduled accordingly; planners, calenders, diary entries, notepads, all came to a simple culmination of a small schedule for the entire month compiling his work.

You were his assistant – the calm, almost uncaring one. Apathetic. Almost dangerously so.

And you prove that part to him tonight.

There's blood staining your pristine clothes. Your usual white collar slumped against your neck, tainted with blood. It's a horrific, vertical splatter over your shirt; even staining your black slacks, which he notices later. He stands so still he's unsure he breathes for a moment.

"[Name]."

Your eye twitches. He spots the mutilated victim behind you. Their finger twitches, too.

He stays quiet. Both of you do. For the first time, Sunday feels fear.

Fear, not the kind that made his stomach drop, when he heard news of his sister's injury. Fear, not the kind when it came to Penacony. Fear, not the kind that plagued his mind when it came to shouldering so much burden it almost crushed him.

Fear. The kind that chilled his spine. The kind that made him feel the night air halt in it's steps. Fear, that paralyzes him like a gazelle caught in the periphery of a wolf's.

"..there isn't an explanation for this, is there?"

He states, almost factually. Yet his voice is quiet, almost hoping you refute him.

"There is. But not the kind you look for.'

You reply. For the first time,

He sees you smile.

Your teeth are pretty – slightly dull under the dim light, the faint wet film over them reflecting the minimal light like a pearl under a sun shower. The blood is smudged at the corner of your mouth. Your eyes are starkly dead. The most empty he's seen them.

But he realizes he's mistaken – they're not empty.

They're full of something.

Something so thick and illusionary, he almost mistook it for emptiness.

"I love you, you know."

You whisper, the sweetness of your voice making him flinch. Your eyes crinkle more in sickening desire when they catch it.

"Always have."

Your hands clasp together, tightly. The blood is slightly sticky, yet dry at the same time, the friction of it making your skin squeak in protest, faintly.

"..who did you kill?"

Sunday's wings are slightly stretched out – alarm, fear, anxiousness. Threatened.

"Competition."

He almost shudders at your answer. Your voice is hollow.

"You won't miss them."

You say, tilting your head slightly. The same, unfamiliar, sweet smile on your face beckons him closer. It's an expression so foreign he imagines you would have ripped it off of someone else's face sooner than believe you are this delighted. But when you step into the light, your eyes swallow and drink in every bit of it into them. He finds himself believing you more and more.

He flinches again; a split second of contemplation. He should stand his ground, shouldn't he? He's awfully torn between facing you or the dead body. The dark covers the more grotesque and mutilated part of it.

You're smiling, so widely he imagines it hurts. Your eyes are so thick with desire he shudders, his wings twitching out as the cogs of his mind jam and creak, refusing to turn.

It's almost tempting. He wonders, for a moment, what would it be like to give?

You take another step closer, and he takes one back. Your smile falters. But it returns when your eyes look at him. It's fainter this time, almost dreamy, than the looming one you had before. You lean forward, hands clasped behind your back. Your wet shirt slightly shifts, the collar dropping a bit to give him a wider view of your skin underneath. He swallows thickly, his eyebrows scrunched as his eyes dart between warning and desire.

"I've always wanted you to take a break. This is the perfect time, isn't it?'

You take another step forward, and your shoe squelches. It makes him evidently twitch, his eyes slightly cringing at the sound, wings folding in defensively. You seem to take some sickening pleasure in it.

"Mr. Sunday. I'm sure we can work a compromise."

He doesn't notice when it happens. His eyes are unfocused when he stares at the body – he wonders how cold the skin must be by now, or the spasms of the muscles, or–

Just how warm your breath was.

He doesn't realize it until you're right up in his face. Your nose touches his, but your lips hover, as if asking for permission. Your eyes bore into his.

"Sun, don't you think your assistant needs a reward?"

Your hands grab at the opening of his coat - he would gently chide you if it wasn't for the grim scenario. He doesn't dare move, eyes widening as he looks down at you, your own lovesick and half lidded.

"No one's coming between us. Not even you."

Your lips are warm, when they press against his. He's careful not to stray too far, lest he tastes the blood on the corner of your mouth.

---

[beansprean]

I forgot to put these on tumblr lol! These romcom posters were made as an 'anonymous' gift for returnofthelu for the 2023 Halloween Exchangeapalooza! Check out all the entries on AO3 here!

These are also avail as posters, prints and stickers on my RedBubble!

Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

(ID in alt and under cut)

1. Movie poster based on Practical Magic, with the title in the top center and the names Guillermo de la Cruz and Nandor the Relentless along the top. Nandor is close up in the center, face worried and thrown into harsh shadows by candlelight. Guillermo is just behind him, staring determinedly at the viewer with a stake raised. Nandor's left hand is held out behind him, the back of it pressed to Guillermo's chest as if to hold him back. In the foreground in front of them is a cluster of lit candles and the silhouettes of dozens of bats flying past. A tagline reads 'for a vampire with a lifetime of heartbreak, falling out of love is the trickiest spell of all.' Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.'

2. Movie poster based on While You Were Sleeping, with the names Guillermo de la Cruz and Nandor the Relentless along the top. Close up of Nandor in his super slumber robes, eyes half open, drooling and looking barely awake, head surrounded by question marks. Guillermo, a vampire, is beaming and hugging him around the neck from behind, a smear of blood on his cheek. The title 'While You Were In Super Slumber' lays across them in white with the tagline 'a story about love at second sight.' Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.'

3. Movie poster based on The Wedding Planner, with the names Guillermo de la Cruz and Nandor the Relentless along the top with the tagline 'a romantic horror comedy about love, wishes, and other events you just can't plan for.' Waist up of Guillermo and Nandor on a background of white roses dripping with blood, pooling and staining at the bottom. Guillermo is leaning heavily against the bottom of the poster with both elbows, one hand holding up his face as he stares blankly into the middle distance, tired beyond belief with dark circles beneath his eyes. Nandor is leaning into him from behind, one arm propped on his shoulders and holding a pen while he gestures vaguely. The other hand is holding up a notebook. Nandor, also with dark circles beneath his eyes but with a more manic expression, is looking upward and appears in the middle of reciting some new list of demands. The title 'The Wedding Planner' is scrawled over the top of them in fancy font. Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.'

4. Movie poster based on Pretty Woman, with the names Guillermo de la Cruz and Laszlo Cravensworth along the top. The title 'Pretty Vampire' is printed vertically on the right side with the tagline 'he flew into their lives, off the balcony, and needed medical attention.' In the center, Laszlo floats midair, facing left with one hand in his pocket. He is wearing a black suit with a patterned purple waistcoat and embroidered loafers. He is wrenched backward with a shocked and angry expression, bent almost in half, as Guillermo grabs onto his tie from behind. Guillermo, wearing a pink and red patterned sweater, black chinos, and black boots, is flailing midair, held up only by his death grip on Laszlo's tie as he pumps his legs back and forth in an effort to regain flight. His eyes are wide and panicked, teeth clenched together, and there are shadows of bat wings at his back. Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.'

5. Movie poster based on The Vow, with the names Guillermo de la Cruz and Nandor the Relentless along the top. Nandor and Guillermo are facing each other in profile, intimately close and with their foreheads pressed together, smiling gently and staring into each other's eyes. Nandor has his hands on Guillermo's hips and Guillermo has one hand on Nandor's waist and the other tucked around the back of his neck. Several top buttons of Guillermo's shirt is open, and there is blood staining the collar and dripping sluggishly from two holes on his throat. Blood is also smeared around Nandor's mouth and chin. The title 'The Vow' is overlaid with the tagline 'his word is their bond'. Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.'

6. Movie poster based on The Breakup, with the names Guillermo de la Cruz and Nandor the Relentless along the top. Nandor and vampire Guillermo are both sitting up on either side of a massive king-sized coffin with a double lid. A line of duct tape runs down the adjacent wall and divides the coffin down the middle. On the left, Guillermo, hair a mess and wearing a blue striped pajama set, sits with his knees to his chest, hugging his balled-up corner of their shared comforter to his chest and glaring off to the side, away from Nandor. On the right, Nandor, wearing a loose cream blouse, sits pouting with his arms crossed, glaring over at the side of Guillermo's head. The title over their heads says 'the break-up' with the tagline '…pick a side.' Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production. coming on a sheet near you November 2023.'

7. Movie poster based on Failure to Launch, with the names Guillermo de la Cruz and Laszlo Cravensworth along the top. Full body of Laszlo and Guillermo as Laszlo, wearing a burgundy and pink suit, cheerfully pushes Guillermo across the screen from behind, grinning at the viewer. Guillermo, wearing a teal and brown patterned cardigan, beige chinos, and boots, is leaning back into Laszlo, body fully straight and rigid, digging his heels in as they scrape along the ground. He looks anxious and terrified, hands up in front of him as if to protect him from whatever he's headed toward. The title above their heads reads 'failure to launch' with the tagline 'to leave the nest, some fledglings just need a little push.' Falling down from the title is a little black and orange bat, a dotted line following it down as it fails to fly upward. Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.'

8. Movie poster based on 10 Things I Hate About You, with the title '10 Things I Ate Instead of You' large in the right center of frame with the names Nandor the Relentless and Guillermo de la Cruz above and below it, respectively. A tagline along the top reads 'how do I resent thee? let me count the ways'. In the center is Nandor from knees up, curled in an armchair with his knees tucked to one side, his left arm resting on the chair arm and his right elbow braced on the other to play idly with his hair. His expression is a practice in aloofness, looking off to the side. Behind him stands Guillermo, left arm leaning against the back of the chair and right elbow braced to lean his head against his hand. He stares longingly at the side of Nandor's head, face flushed and lips pressed together nervously. Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.'

9. Movie poster based on You've Got Mail, with Guillermo and Nandor. Their names are listed at the top. They are walking casually toward the viewer on far sides of the image, looking off to the side away from each other with dreamy smiles, ignorant of the other's presence. Nandor is wearing a brown and gold belted tunic and boots, twiddling his fingers together. Guillermo is wearing black boots, gray chinos and vest, and his trenchcoat, a stake loose in his hand as it swings at his side. The background is blurry green and white, shadows stretching out in front of them. Between them, a tagline reads 'Someone you pass on the street may already be the love of your afterlife.' and then the title 'You've Got Mail' beneath. 'Text at the bottom says 'a beansprean production.' /end ID

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: The Countess's carriage

A/n: You get your driver's license, and Billie just likes to mess around sometimes.

Billie's point of view. Small references to "Oxytocin".

"Okay guys, we're done, you're packing up the equipment! You all did a great job!" - The photographer gives the command and his booming voice shaking the bright studio like a fairy-tale giant easily lifting a log cabin into the air, and for a second it seems that even the huge vertical plane of the cyclorama behind me is swaying, absorbing his powerful, bassy voice. Something reminiscent of huge stage speakers, quite amusing. - "Thank you more for such a pleasant cooperation, Ms. O'Connell."

The stocky man smiles as kindly as if he were a boy of five, making his truly French mustache bounce upward in curls. And he himself is a living embodiment of Parisian chic, making an impression of some incompatible between windiness and seriousness. Chinos pants in gray plaid, expensive white shirt that is deliberately not buttoned up on the first button, black classic Vans slip-ons, brown jacket, and his majesty - yellow scarf. It's like I never left Paris, a really wonderful photographer.

"Just Billie," - I sank blissfully into the blue pouffe with my foot on the leg, - "and thank you, it's mutual."

The good-natured uncle walks away, looking at the camera screen with incredible satisfaction as he walks (perhaps even calculating the profits from the magazine covers, as evidenced by his dreamy feline smile), and I can finally exhale, relaxed. When I lean my head back and close my eyes for a few seconds, the studio around me is as noisy as a forest: someone removes the nozzle from the softboxes with a characteristic rustle like the sound of leaves, or heared alternating clicks that make the studio lights go out, reminiscent of a woodpecker's knocking on wood. And it's all mixed in with the rushing of people stomping around, muffled speech that I'm not really trying to make out. With an exhalation I open my eyes leisurely, and while long-legged tripods and reflectors, so similar to buds opened under the sun, are "flying by", I fumble for my phone in the pocket of baggy jeans. Even in this consonance of work noise, I hear most sensitively the sound of the notification from you. Or maybe I don't hear it, but already feel it in my heart, who knows? A light swipe up and our chat window obediently pops up. Emoji of a burning heart in place of name and your photo in the profile circle, where you deliberately playfully shine your sharpened bare collarbones, which for me is the most delicious cherry that I want to savor on my tongue.

"Hey, guess who can surpass you on the road now? 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜"

A warm smile spreads on my lips: your efforts have really paid off despite the itchy worries in your soul. So proud of you, though I can't help but tease jokingly - the newfound opportunity is too sweet, since you and I can have such an unconditionally good time.

"Debatable about surpassing me, my girl..." - And immediately followed by a new blue cloud of a message that slipped right out from under my fingers. - "But I'm eternally proud of you, you're incredible."

"Then why does it look like you want to take me on as a bet, Eilish?"

Bingo. As soon as I slyly cast my rod, you immediately swallow the bait, even knowing full well what's involved. Your deliberate submissiveness is so enticing, it makes me bite my lower lip, automatically stoking the hungry flames of my obscene thoughts. The false fang scratches my lip from the excessive pressure. Shit... Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a tall, thin shadow looming over me, causing me to raise my head, reflexively blocking my screen.

"Billie, ready to go yet?" - Laura smiles, holding the thick day planner in one hand and holding it out to me with the other like a caring fairy godmother. I nod and immediately brag to get up from the blue ottoman in one motion. - "You look a little tired, dear, but luckily that was the last activity for today."

"And this is coming from a person who should be on a well-deserved vacation twice already, but has been putting it off for about six months now," - I chuckle, and Laura playfully folds her fingers pistol-wise, tucking her "sacred" texts under her armpit. A few impromptu shots, and I play along like an unlikely Hollywood movie actor, grabbing dramatically at the heart. - "Okey, my lip zipped."

"That's right!" - Ramsey, with a cheeky grin, alternately blows imaginary smoke off her fatal "weapon" before she get back in the same mood. - "Should I call a driver to give you a ride home?"

"No, that's okay,"- I sluggishly wave her off as the two of us weave our way toward the exit of the room, keeping our course toward the intricate weave of several dark corridors and dressing rooms. - "Better tell me, can I keep those awesome fangs?".

"I think, for a small fee, it's quite possible."

"Great!" - I dip my hand into my pocket again, unintentionally blinding myself with the display in the unfamiliar darkness at first. My fingers immediately touch the necessary letters, as if in a sharp and passionate tango. - "Simply marvelous."

One can now tread on this fragile ice far more confidently than before.

"It is, I want." - The blue cloudlet goes to you, losing the final "you" along the way, which I did, after all, erase as soon as I typed it. Not because it's not true, but because it's too boring and stupid to open all the cards at once. - "Will you pick me up?"

Two thin, white checkmarks appear almost immediately in the corner, notifying me that it's been read. The three dots at the top of the screen bounce meditatively as I say goodbye to Laura, who's walking further down the maze of narrow corridors, and I'm touch the handle of the dressing room with the palm of my hand as I make mine way inside.

"Yeah, only if you're want ride on a bicycle." - The words skillfully build into your traditional irony, and I can hold back a burst of laughter. - "I don't have a car yet, and I don't think you're so dreamy about having all of LA running after us when they recognize you."

"Take my Dragon, and show me what you can do. I'll be waiting."

I write the address and set the phone back down on the table contentedly, settling into the high chair in front of the mirror: I smile languidly, and a pair of snow-white fangs and silver grillz catch the glow of light from the warm backlighting running along the mirror frame. The silver star shining especially brightly. I notice the playful blue sparks in my gaze that flicker with the stirring dirty thoughts already running rampant in my head. Well, this is going to be fun!

×××

As soon as I leave the building through the back door, under the usual escort of two trustworthy guards and the responsible Laura, I hear the familiar, soft rumble of the engine and my favorite rustle of wheels in the deep dark blue twilight: you pull into the parking lot like a careful panther, so as not to attract unnecessary attention. Although I know how much you want to make noise for the whole block and press the gas pedal to the floor. I like to do that. And I think I like to see you driving my car, which I'm just now finding out.

"You're too sexy against the obsidian black metallic, you know that?" - I dive into the passenger seat, which feels a little unfamiliar, and you almost drop your jaw to the floor of the cabin in surprise when I look at you defiantly from under my dark glasses and smile. I bite my lip deliberately, setting the stage. - "You like it?"

"Insanely." - You look adoringly into my blue waters, so beloved of you, and I can't hold back a slight blush, immediately covering myself with a smirk. - "You seem to have surpassed even Carmilla herself, Countess."

"I hope the first vampire in the history of literature doesn't take too much offense at me." - I grab to my seatbelt, letting a chuckle pass through my lips.

"She will. It's impossible to be offended by you."

As we pull out of the parking lot, the right to stare elegantly becomes my authority, which you've unknowingly handed over to me, as if you've performed a gothic sacrament in the semi-darkness of the cabin by your mere appearance and demeanor. The massive gold chain that weighs so seductively on your neat neck is worth it. And the long coffee-colored jacket that accentuates your sculpted shoulders? My gaze falls on the thin strap threaded into the laces of your casual pants - the belt plaque is gold-plated, too. You lower your right hand, gently touching the gearshift knob, and I stare so dumbly, hungrily outlining each phalanx and the line of rings playing on your beautiful fingers. Oh my God... You're doing absolutely nothing obscene, and I'm practically dying already.

"Is everything okay?" - you ask, not taking your eyes off the road. Your face is so unaccustomedly focused, though I catch some concern in your gaze.

"Just admiring you," - I take off my sunglasses, clinging them with one earpiece on the collar of my T-shirt. - "And... I wanted to offer you something."

"Listening attentively, my Countess." - You look at me expectantly, just as we slow down at the stoplight waiting for the signal, a purring chuckle on your lips. - "Anything for your gothic majesty, the finest carriage at your service."

"Is it really the best? It's not like I'm driving right now." - A smirk shoots up on its own, causing you to do nothing but tsk tsk and roll your eyes theatrically. You're my flawless opera.

"Stop taunting and tormenting me and tell me what you're up to, slick."

The air sticks in my throat barely in time to form meaningful words, or at least syllables: a red Audi comes nose to nose, honking softly. My hands reach for mine glasses, clawing them back onto my face as a kind of reflex. And you're instantly taut, like a string twisted in the right direction by a peg on top of the fingerboard. Hands on the handlebars in perfect position, for all the flashy high marks. Again another slight honk of a car suddenly appearing nearby breaks the silence of the night.

"Did I do something wrong?" - You ask perplexedly, arching your eyebrows slightly in a frown and turning your head toward the window, just in time for the expensive source of the rich scarlet-colored sound. The Audi immediately winks playfully at you a couple times with its high beam lights, making you squint more and more with the question hovering right above your head.

"No, relax." - I run my hand down your thigh, which immediately tenses under my palm. You turn your gaze back to me, still as questioning, but you spread your leg closer to me without further ado. You're so obedient, it's a miracle. - "It's just that you're being called to a stoplight race."

"Uh, just like in the movies?"

"Uh-huh." - I slide my hand thigh , down to your knee to come back up and rest on the border of my inner thigh. The look is attentive, eye to eye, you're not even looking down yet. - "When two or more drivers in expensive cars meet randomly on the road and try to prove who is 'cooler' by overtaking each other, flashing high beams, playing 'checkers' usually with significant speeding."

"And... How do I win?" - My palm dives down, and you start breathing a little confused, which someone else wouldn't even notice unless you knew you properly. But I do know, and that brings a satisfied smile as if on cue. - "Eilish..."

"I'll tell you if you promise to grant my wish," I return back, squeezing your thigh through the fabric of your pants. - "Whatever it is."

"I promise." - You nod confidently, even without any pause. A small spark of excitement shines in the depths of your pupils. Wonderful.

"Usually this sort of thing ends with one heavily outmaneuvering the 'opponent', like while he's stopped at a stoplight, bumping into slow traffic, and stuff like that." - I lower my glasses a little, peeking over the edge of the frame. Your gaze drifts momentarily to the rich blue of my lashes, and then you're back at the mercy of my calculating eyes. - "Racing from stoplight to stoplight, usually starting on green, then rapid acceleration, 'checkers' and braking before the next stoplight.

"Well, there's no other cars here now, obviously."

"In our case, all we have to do is run a green light to get our opponent 'stuck' into a red light." - feeling the coolness of the gearbox knob with the palm of my hand is nice, even sitting in the passenger seat, even if it feels completely different. - "Roar if you want to compete."

You pause for a second, arching your back into the seat, staring appraisingly at the distant traffic light in front of you, and then place your hands on the steering wheel. Seeing the blue ribbons of your veins on your tense wrists is pure sex. You squeeze the gas pedal, shaking the silence of the intersection with a powerful roar - and that's sex multiplied by x-two. You really know how to make the Dragon sound. And I know how to make you sound. The scarlet Audi responds immediately, making noise and "shooting" the engine in a cocky, open and brazen challenge.

"I dibs pay on the fines, Eilish." - you exhale tensely with a chuckle, staring at the red light as if someone's life depends on it. Oh, you're nervous as if you're on your deathbed, waiting with your hand clasped on the handle.

"The Countess is betting all her treasure on you, my coachman." - I lean back in my chair with too much wimpy pathos on my tongue, and as I smile my teeth catch the glow of the streetlights again, which is especially visible in the side mirror. Red changes to yellow, to which the Audi growls again, and you don't make a single extra move, just wait. - "Prove it to me what you better."

Five seconds of silence - the yellow cycles to green. And you sharply push the knob on the box forward in a split second, at the same time pressing the pedal to the floor. The wheels grind to a devilish speed, and I'm immediately sealed into the seat. It's pure madness, but I like it. The Audi pathetically "shooting" the exhaust pipe, being bumper to bumper with you again. At the last decisive meters, when the green circle blinks, as if saying goodbye for a while, and the "Dragon" on half a bumper rushes forward, you confidently pull the handle a little on itself, including the second gear, then - clutch, smooth wheel spin, gas. With a whistle of tires, you fly sideways behind the traffic light hanging from above, immediately leveling off to the proper lane and driving away, kicking up dust. The red Audi stays behind the red light, a little further away.

With the realization of the outcome, we yell something unintelligible to each other, me nearly bouncing out of my seat even though I'm buckled in, you, a five-finger running through your hair disbelievingly while the road is still empty.

"Wow, I definitely have one of the best carriages of all," I whisper half hoarsely, feeling the tight ligaments in my throat peppering.

"And yet not the best?" - you pout playfully, biting down on the bottom one so your smile doesn't give you away. Still too flighty and excited from the dose of adrenaline shooting through your bloodstream. - "I won, hey!"

"You won, but you didn't win against me," - I show you my tongue, sticking it exactly in the gap between my fangs, and you laugh childishly. There's no hint of resentment or anything like that on your face.

"So be it, Eilish." - You look distractedly at the rearview mirror, as if convincing yourself that this isn't all a figment of your imagination. - "So what about your wish?"

And here comes the prize for audience sympathy! Personal and unique, so long awaited.

"Remember my apartment in the apartments near the center?" - I place my hand back on your thigh, stroking extremely close, making you almost hiss, "Head over there, right into the underground parking lot."

×××

Passing the security checkpoint without the slightest problem, and pulling into the parking lot just out of camera range - good idea, great even. Unbuckling the seatbelts on both of us and getting my lips on yours before your mechanism hit the car wall with its metal detail was great. Ordering you, so panting and disheveled from my hands and lips, to move into the back seats right out of the front seats, following me is stunning in its uniqueness. You are sprinted by me to the back seat without any mercy or excuse, with your lips slightly swollen and reddened from biting. And I deeply don't care that we're somewhat cramped right now, perhaps that only plays to our advantage. I don't care because it's my wish, and you promised to fulfill it.

"You're crazy, you know that?" - Your gaze is so serious - pure surgical steel, but you're breathing intermittently and without noticing it you're fawning your body only closer to me, your legs in expensive pants spread wider, giving more space. - "Why don't you back off and pick something safer?"

Sitting on you in the small interior of Dodge: pure insanity. Hovering over you again and tongue leaving a lust-hot stroke on your neck, pulling back the collar of your thin white turtleneck: a complete breakdown of brakes and decency. But can't I be bad sometimes? Oh, yes, I can! Especially when there's a hot girl like you in my car.

"Can't take it back once it's been set in motion," - I clutch that most fucking licentious gold and massive chain in my fist, pulling you closer by it so you're sure to hear every word crystal clear in my whisper. - "Cause I like to do things God doesn't approve of if she saw us."

"Eilish, fuck...," - I rest my knee so shamelessly between your thighs, deliberately creating friction, and you melting, letting go of any moral guardrails, your face hidden behind your Artemis palm: fingers so thin and chiseled and beautiful, like you're a perfect portrait descended from the paintings of antiquity. Mine. So excited and almost swaggering.

"Girl, I'm going to drive you crazy," - I run the very tip of a fang along the curl of your ear, and you pant in heat, swallowing your own moan so obediently that my own thighs shake from the tension. Gently I wrap my fingers around your hand, moving my hand away from your face. - "Wanna see what you can take, take you right in the my car, such a deadly hot girl. Will you be obedient for me?"

"Yes," - you wheeze, clinging to my lips, and I allow it, only biting lightly. It seems like you're about to have bloody scratchy cracks on your lips as it is, my weakness. I leave a few hickeys on your neck, and I almost laugh as you purr a muffled moan: I think I'm getting too into the vampire role, don't you think?

I touch you just everywhere, every precious cell of your body, and you still don't beg: you endure and only occasionally look away from me, wishing you could find some respite to save your soul in this four-wheeled Purgatory that is more sinful than hell itself.

"You couldn't look away, look away, look away..." - I hum mockingly right in your face, grabbing your chin, but you only roll your eyes with the new thrust of my knee. You're so interesting to 'break', my dear, so unadulterated and interesting to me.

"She'd wanna get involved, involved, involved..." - you deftly parry my own sentence. A slight smirk flashes across your lips, and then I'm nearly folded in half when you thoughtfully shut my mouth with your hand and wedge your knee into the very point of infernal heat in my body. There, between my thighs.

"Slut..." - I feel the sweat begin to trickle down my forehead, and a bitchy smile spreads across my lips. You don't look away, staring straight into my irises, wanting to swim in those seas, to stay there forever. But I won't let you - I just can't do it without you. Your parched lips fold silently into "yours," and so hard tightens the knot of heat in my lower abdomen as if all five letters were belladonna petals.

Deftly I unbuckle your belt, pull the zipper tongue down and you instantly break down, no longer having any strength to continue this teenage game we're playing.

"I'm begging, Billie, please..."

Click! And you broke, just seconds before I would have lost all patience myself, pounding into you with fingers so frantic and selfless that you never dreamed. Good girl. And good girls should be encouraged, shouldn't they?

Already half-naked, you crawl back to the narrow window with your back to the max distance, and I slide down the seat to the opposite side with my feet on the floor. I run my hands over your absolutely uncovered thighs, touching them smoothly with my lips as if they were expensive velvet. You want to grab my hair with your hands, speeding up the process, but you stopped yourself so obediently that I personally place your hand on the back of my head-you deserve it.

I run my tongue between the hot petals, and you nearly bang your head on the roof, wanting to arch your body in a beautiful arc of pleasure. Your hands are tangled in my dark hair, and I'm just trying not to scratch you with my two snow-white "gothic blade", stolen from the photo shoot so successfully. The star-shaped grillz are so contrastly, it's so cold on your aroused clit at first, isn't it?

You cum even without fingers, too taken to extremes in foreplay. All I do is suck in the pot of your clit with my lips, and you do fly into the low ceiling of the car with your forehead, jerking from your orgasm too sharply. You squeeze your eyes shut in pain, barely able to recover again from the new wave of small shudders.

"Hey, hey, hey," - I'm settling in just as you do, pulling you closer to me, resting your head on my chest. Your feet dangle to the floor, but you don't seem to care. You only squint, trying to calm the mottled galaxy before your eyes, and poke your lips against my neck. - "Gently, be accurate, my girl."

You open your eyes, and you look at me so wildly, the word Fallen Angel on Alexander Cabanel's canvas. Madly, with burning eyes, with unknown power. You don't say a word only kiss endlessly, and with one hand you manage the thin Gucci belt and the zipper on my jeans. You enter with two fingers so unexpectedly and precisely that I would have left a hole in the roof with my head if you hadn't put your hand there in time.

"The Grammy Academy still needs some talented twists, careful," - you chuckle, but I'm just feverishly thrusting against your tense fingers, eager for release. I bite my lip until it's bloody, and the star-shaped grillz blinks silver. - "Nah, that won't do..."

You pull your fingers out, and I feel like crying or biting "vampire-style."

You slide down between my thighs, throwing my legs over your back as best you can by virtue of the space, and then you say, looking into my eyes with Edenic pleasure like you've tasted forbidden fruit:

"Beg me, Billie Eilish."

Click! And I break under you in my own car, burning with excitement.

[lelysiany]

I decided to try out kinbor weeks. Since 2024 hasn't yet started, I decided to experiment with some layouts on notes pages before the start of a new year. Honestly, my anxiety about tasks is down quite a bit because there is not as much white space to fill as it was in Leuchtturm 1917 vertical weeklies. Plus kinbor size is much better for me and the planner is lightweight. Also I want to note that kinbor paper isn't printer white and also isn't very cream. It's right in the middle and I kinda like it even tho I'm more of a cream color person.

Honestly, I've been a little lazy with tracking anything that's not mental health related because I've been obsessing over my new guitar so things became forgotten.

[cognitivejustice]

Milanese architect and urban planner Stefano Boeri is the father of the concept of Vertical Forests, or high-rises covered with the leaves of thousands of plants and trees of different species, the first of which saw the light of day a decade ago. The Bosco Verticale (Vertical Forest) in Milan, comprising two plant-clad residential towers, formed the equivalent of three hectares of woodland and undergrowth concentrated in just 3,000 sqm of space, and came to symbolize urban reforestation championing the close coexistence of architecture and nature.

Boeri reminisces about his mother Cini Boeri, an important figure in Italian design and architecture, and his award-winning Vertical Forests.

[eggbunni]

Photo dump from a spread in my Sterling Ink N2V (Weeks sized Vertical layout) compact common planner.

[b-blushes]

did i ever talk about the a4 planner notebooks i designed and had made on here? 👀 (they all have blank covers which i decorate with stickers each month)

blank inside cover (this is my may/june planner which i started decorating yesterday, so there's a thank you note from my raahatillustration order in there), all the printed pages are printed on square paper! next page is a 2024 and 2025 calendar (minimum print quantity was 10 books, so i designed each book to cover 2 months and had 12 printed, for 2 years supply!), followed by a blank grid for future log of the 2 months that come after the ones in the current notebook).

page for trackers! i use the left hand page to write the things i'm tracking (sideways in the top box, so a column of boxes is assigned to each activity/task), then colour in the boxes corresponding to the date and each activity/thing each day. also doubles as a migraine log (colour in the box containing the date when i have a migraine), and the blank column is so i can colour in a mood tracker. the right hand page is for making a record of what i'm reading and watching (genre, start date, end date, title and author if applicable). lots of extra space for decorating or notes if i want to.

monthly page! (2 per book). the left is for a monthly overview that is heavily decorated/all the things i'm doing are written in (no completed version to show bc i have too much personal info in my completed ones to redact. sad bc they turn out very cute!!!). the space underneath that is where i stick in a copy of the playlist i'm listening to that month/any decorations i want to add. the boxes at the bottom have 31 spaces, so on the left of that i write down 4 physical therapy things i track to fill in each day. on the right hand page is where i write a little brief list of things that will be nice the following day, then the grids at the bottom are for me to shade in 'the degree to which i went outside', and a 'big picture' idea of the weather.

weekly spread! (10 per book). how i keep on top of the day! for vertical planning, with a running list-ish style chores log on the top left corner, and a blank setup on the top left corner of the right page for things i want to achieve across the week but that i can't assign to a specific day yet (or take place over multiple days). lots of room for me to stick in photos, a column for notes, and a gap at the base of the page for me to track other things. i colour code each month so it's easier for me to keep track of where i am in time, so a strip of washi tape goes along the bottom 3 rows of squares, and then above that i'm left with 3 more rows of squares - in the 'notes' column i pick 3 things to track, and then draw a line across the column for each day of the week when i do that activity/task in the corresponding row. for example:

weekly horizontal spread (10 per book). this is for my daily reflections, i write down things like my step count for keeping track of health stuff/energy expenditure, when i got up/any time i had to lay down, a bullet point summary of all the activities i did that day, times i made a decision that was, like, good for me, things like that!

blank squared pages (7 per book) and inside back cover for miscellaneous uses. i've used them for far for garden planning diagrams and collages, sticking in notes and ephemera, and collecting odds and ends of stationery. i usually stick an envelope that i've made inside the back cover so i can stuff a bunch of papers in there as i accumulate them (receipts, tags from clothes, order delivery notes, etc), for example:

tada! really happy with how these turned out, very good investment of the money i would have put into buying a hobonichi each year for example, which is simply too small for my needs!

[crimson-kas]

The last week in my Quarter 2 planner. This vertical layout has served me well, but it’s time for a change…

Printable stickers by @petite-gloom .

[archivesweats]

Ok I’m still agonizing about wanting to get a sterling ink planner or notebook so please enjoy (or not) this breakdown of my current system and the debate I’m having with myself re: what to purchase—under the cut

My current every day carry setup includes:

Paper republic A5 portfolio (note: too narrow to fit proper A5 comfortably, but perfect for moleskines)

Inside portfolio: blue moleskine for creative writing

Red moleskine for journal writing

Slipped into portfolio pocket: Log Book (where I keep track of what I did daily, monthly overview of events, monthly overview habit tracking, tracking when I water my plants, grocery and to-do lists) this is just made from maruman loose leaf paper I cut, stapled, and rounded the corners on

On top of the portfolio: A6 plain midori Mess Book (where I put anything and everything, doodles, stuff on the go, etc. it’s a mess)

Not in the everyday carry setup I have, at my desk:

A commonplace book

An ink notebook where I swatch, try mixes, do currently inked, keep track or purchases, and do transcription stuff.

Current issues with my system:

Main issue is that I got into fountain pens right after buying the portfolio and the moleskines.

The moleskines are not fountain pen friendly (the creative writing one is somewhat, but that’s the one I use the least frequently). This is partially why I bought the ink notebook, and entirely why I bought the midori mess book. Its main purpose is giving me a casual use book where I can use my fountain pens.

The portfolio doesn’t comfortably fit A5

I don’t want to abandon my moleskines 1/4 way through

I don’t want to abandon my portfolio at all

What I want, within the boundaries of not wanting to abandon any of my books, but feeling the itch to try out a sterling ink notebook or planner:

Something that can be my log book and my mess book at the same time. I make my log books every other month approximately and I’ll def be done my mess book by the new year, so I wouldn’t have to abandon them to replace them. They are similar in size, so I could easily combine them.

An A6 common planner would make most sense: log my days in the weekly pages, habit track in the quarterly sections, use the blank pages as mess book.

Issues that have me worried:

I want the horizontal weekly layout, but I like the two page spread like in the passport size. But passport is too small for the mess book and in A6 horizontal they cram all 7 days on one page, which is way too small.

Solution to this could be to get the vertical one and use it horizontally. This gives slightly more space. Still a bit worried because my current log book is just blank grid space, so I write as much or as little as I need and just draw a line between days

(Horizontal passport | horizontal A6 | vertical A6)

So the solution, if I decide that even the vertical version is potentially not enough space to log my days, is to just get the A6 notebook instead of the planner, and make my monthly overview spreads myself like I’m doing currently. Log my days from one end, do the mess book from the other.

I’m just a little lost and a little frustrated hat I wound up committing to journals that aren’t fountain pen friendly right before I got into fountain pens.

But even if I were to finish my moleskines and could replace them with a bigger planner, so I could log my day comfortably in the weekly section, and use the dailies for journaling I don’t know what I would do. This portfolio is just slightly too narrow for A5, and if I went with the B6, it would fit perfectly in width but have an awkward amount of empty space in length.

One thing I could do is get a compact B6 and keep the creative writing journal so at least one of the books would fill in the height of the portfolio. In this scenario, the B6 planner would be for log book and journal. And then I guess I could either get an A6 notebook from Sterling ink or another Midori for my mess book. But this scenario involves finishing my moleskine journal by the new year, or soon after I guess.

(Edit: the B6 horizontal only exists in full year. Don’t know if that would fit on top of the moleskine. So i would have to do B6 vertical 🥲)

asdfgghjkfkwfoemrnw what a mess

[santoschristos]

Kundalini Rising by Ross Bannister

ANDROGYNUITY, KUNDALINI, SEX MASTERY, & ASCENSION

Ascension is a process of attaining genderless evolution. Genders and sex organs are quintessentially characteristics of a lower density construct.

As our energies refine into greater quotients of Light the element of Androgynuity is initiated.

Kundalini is the Creative Energy of Light. It sleeps in our sex organs at the most denser levels of evolution; gets ignited with the stimulation of sex organs and begins to rise thru the act of sexual gratification. But its rise, at such basic levels, is only temporary. On the other hand, when a human gets stirred into a momentum of removing the dual veils of amnesia, it's Kundalini awakens and begins its slither up the spine, thru the chakras. That is its true purpose for existing in the human design. The Hara Chakra is its charger, that once plugged into, gets activated. Now, as long as it is seated and asleep in the sex organs it barely comes out of deep slumber when the sex organs are activated, only to return to its sleep immediately thereafter.

However, as you persist along the Path to an Awakening, the Kundalini stirs its head in curiosity and observes the seriousness of its body holder, whilst yet being half asleep. It certainly takes much to fully awaken the conditioned slumber of the Serpent Goddess. You gotta be real serious, real diligent, a real pusher (not push-over),a real digger, a real knocker and, for a rather long period of time, exhibiting pure passion to re-gain the true identity, then and only then - would the Serpent Goddess bother to move beyond opening her eyes.

Notwithstanding, herein enters the fundamental platform of Self-Mastery. If you are a serious contender for exiting the Blind Maze (the Game Layout of the Planet) then you have been researching to find the appropriate Key that shall lead you out of the Exit Door. This is finding the suitable, workable, technology that you can apply to your body, mind, chakras, to ready it for Ascension (exit from Maze). And, only real Powerful Beings can find the Exit Door, out of the treacherous Blind Maze. Now, what does real Powerful mean here?

In absolute Truth – there is no Exit Door that can be found on the ground level of the Blind Maze. The Maze is a complete closed Layout with no doors, nor windows, to even look out and see beyond. It’s like a Full-Proof Secured Prison.

Then how can one ever escape from such a prison?

Vertically!

The Planners (B’nai Elohims) of this Star System Intelligence designed the Maze exactly as the Ain Soph (God) designed the Human Geometry.

When Atlantis was ordered by the Shekinah (God) to be obliterated (explained in depths ne’er recorded on earth afore, directly from the Akashic Records of Earth – in the eBook – THE VOICE OF SILENCE at www.sangeetahanda.net) the question that arose then in the minds of the B’nai Elohim was where to store all the Wisdom that had been attained by the Atlantis Civilization? Thoth was commissioned to transport the Ascension Flame, the physical lifeforms of each species to a new port from where the New Civilization would be seeded to life. However, the Wisdom accrued by the civilization too had to be protected. Wisdom attained by each Civilization is never lost but stored safely for the future race to procure once it has attained the same frequency of the previous existent society. However, since Atlantis had moved the extreme negative way, on acquiring the high level of Wisdom, the Shekinah did not want the same to happen again so, the Ain Soph decided to change the Law of the Planet, in such a manner that it would guarantee only a Positive Entropy could procure the Higher Wisdom. So then, what kind of place would it be where Wisdom could be re-discovered by none other than the true light bearers, the B’nai, the Sons of Light? The eBook explains beautifully the entire process, so here in brief I shall say: the only place where man wouldn’t bother to search, as cleverly figured out by the B’nai Elohim, would be undoubtedly on the inside of the human being. Man is too lazy to make that effort nor that intelligent to figure out it could be found in the simplest place.

Similarly, the B’nai Elohims planned the Exit from the Blind Maze also using the same format. Man would invariably search for an Exit Door at the ground level and never think to look up, just as he would ne’er imagine to look within for its Key.

This explanation subsequently leads you to understand why Self-Mastery is the platform, the quintessential discipline, to getting within and then above! You have to do it yourself. You have to muster that passion, that determination, that drive, that discipline, and go against your basic nature of laziness when it comes to self-application. Once you have the mettle, the right nature, the pre-requisite foundation, you shall receive the help of the B’nai Elohims and the Ain Soph to find the right direction to the Key and its Door. This happens thru Self-Application and, this is Self–Mastery!

Moreover, the process of Self-Application is so necessary because as you apply yourself, your self-realized tools, prayers, meditations you begin to prepare your body to awaken with your consciousness. This is when the Serpent Goddess gets convinced of your seriousness and sees you have laid the foundation for it to awaken now. The Goddess Kundalini Shakti needs a very strong, well readied passage to climb up thru – and this passage-way is our Nervous System. Long ago I was shown that the Light of God is stored in liquid form in our Nervous System that exists in our Spinal Column. The Serpent Goddess needs the Light of God as its fuel to rise up. We all have the Light of God within us but it depletes over time if not ignited and charged thru connection to God. Thus, having no Fuel the Goddess overtime had learned to remain asleep as its work station itself was not ready. Now, thru Self-Application you ignite the Light Fuel and pump greater volumes of Light into your Nervous System, which then readies the Nervous System into function, the Work Station gets prepared, the body comes suddenly alive, and all aspects of the form get ignited, the engine starts pulsating into action and the Goddess Serpent smiles and gets up from its heavenly couch of the Hara sofa and begins its gradual and long climb up the spinal column of ascension.

Now it’s a different orgasm that you experience, than from the mere activation of sex organs. This is a different sounding engine, making an altogether different “Grrrrrhhhhhhh..” At this point onwards, your sexual appetite gathers a different hue as well. It shall not be felt soon but as and when the Kundalini reaches your two most powerful Glands and Chakras, namely the Pituitary and Pineal you shall be in no confusion regarding the Mastery of your Sexual Energy. Both these powerful glands, that which directly feed-off the Crown and 3rd Eye Chakra, control the chemistry of your body.

The hormonal flow changes, refines, and defines a new Circuitry of the Body Geometry. You acquire a New Evolutionary Membrane Shell, a new BioChemical Plasma, a New Physical BioSphere, a new BioGravitational Energy, new MultiDimensional Energy Compost, and finally a new Genderless Biological Form – you indeed become Androgynous!

Sex is not the Circuit of Creativity anymore. Light is the Circuitry of all Creativity. You have become the Serpent Goddess yourself. You are the Kundalini Energy-in-action at all times. The Kundalini is your Mer-Ka-Bah. Your Light Quotient has reached 62% and you have entered the 7th Level of Evolution - the opening of your 3rd Eye with the activation of the Pineal and Pituitary Glands. Your symptoms are severe headache at the forehead level, and on the right side just above the ear, due to huge ‘infusions of light’ and ‘powerful light activations’.

Someone, very much on the path to ascension, had asked me: Does my sudden lack of sex appetite mean my Kundalini has collapsed? Hope this explanation answers the question and many more questions related to our sex appetite, mastery of sexual energy, becoming androgynous, and the rising of the kundalini. --Sangeeta Handa

[liskaclay]

My first listing! 

[petite-gloom-mail]

how about the a6 avec together with the little weekly booklet? i know the cover of the weekly isn't very attractive but apart from that it's a nifty little book, and u could always cover up the green w black paper or whatever! and then just tuck it in ur cover so it's almost like a one book system

the trouble is that the vertical week squeezed into a6 doesn't leave much room for writing! my dream would be the sterling ink common planner in half year with horizontal weeks, that way i still have daily pages, but enough room in the weekly section to catch the overflow too