#when will I ever finish a project lol

[sea-stone]

Breaking the Original Post Hiatus

Hewwooo Everyone!

I have been in a metric booty ton of therapy following some not-so-great times and then, whoops, over a month passes and a whole ass election happened.

BUT HEY, I am here, I am alive. Please enjoy the first part of another longer work in progress.

Part 1: Fuck Me, I Guess!

(featuring "Big Bad Wolf" architype and horny as hell Satyr)

Content Warnings: Is NSFW - Prey/Predator; Blood (Bleeding Out Slowly) & Description of Severe Injury and Thoughts of dying or death; Brutal Oral and Self Pleasuring.

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My voice had gone hoarse after many hours screaming for help. Adrenaline still burned in my blood with the urgent drive to find any solution and be alert of my surroundings. Hopelessness however, began to sink in, chilling and numbing my extremities. I made enough noise by now, but nothing and no one responded to my desperate cries for help. Nothing: not a branch snap, not a started hush of wings, not even a cautious hoot of an owl. I was utterly alone and I was left to bleed to death in this fucking man’s trap. I didn’t even get the mercy of a quick death because this damn trap was meant to capture and maim, not to properly murder me. Curse my carelessness, my arrogance!!

My legs finally gave out beneath my wobbling gait and I flopped onto my back as comfortably as I could. “Finally,” I croaked out in a sigh as waves of exhaustion rippled through my body and had my head swimming. A half-hearted sob rose in my throat and stung at my eyes, but no tears actually fell down my cold cheeks. I wholly believed this would be the beginning of my end. Had it truly been my fate, trapped by my own making, I had made peace with that and would gladly serve as a cautionary tale to hopefully less bull-headed creatures as myself. I closed my eyes, trying to settle into the dead leaves beneath me and waited to die. 

Not too far away, I heard the howl of a wolf ring out into the great expansive night. A small smile pulled at my chapped lips. At last, I believed, The Great Beast of the Wood would come and kindly kill me before enjoying its last meal of the evening. I barely noticed the sound of rustling brush until it became apparent it was coming towards me. The forest easily bent and broke under its mighty paws, I imagined. I felt my body reflexively curl into a fetal position on my injured side and I yelped with the painful reminder of the metal teeth lodged in my thigh. From my hooves to my scalp, every inch of me began to tremble with prey-like terror, though I spiritually was resolved to stare my impending doom in the face. I uncurled and propped my body up with my arms behind me and strained to lift my head up. 

The Great Beast, the lone Werewolf, seemed to slow its approach as it reached me. He leaned back on his hind legs and stood like a human would, though still hunched forward. He walked over the brush at the edge of the path and loomed over me, blocking the full moon light and casting his enormous shadow over my pathetic form. Despite already having adjusted to the low light of the night, I could not make out much of his monstrous features. What was very apparent was just how large he was, as he might have stood at a greater height than the tallest centaur I’ve ever seen. His body was covered with thick, dark fur, which made it even more difficult to discern anything in the shadow of the Great Moon. His hands-paws?- were malformed with large sharp claws on each of long digits. I could tell it was blood that gleamed as it fell from his maw and talons. I could smell the metallic scent off him. Suddenly, the Beast quieted his panting and closed his mouth. 

My body trembled with great effort as I crane my neck up to look at his face again. His eyes were a bright amber and seemed to glow intensely. I couldn’t interpret his intention from their crazed look, but I was keenly aware from the fact that he hadn’t descended on me that he was considering his options. Perhaps he was trying to figure out the best way to kill me with the least amount of effort, as if I was in any position to put up a fight.

Several agonizing moments passed, my heart beat being the only sound in my strained ears. A gust blew past him towards me and I couldn’t help but inhale deeply his scent as I closed my eyes. I was familiar with the new and old scent of spilled blood making up the odor profile and yet, I was surprised to notice a strong, warm musky aroma. It awoke something inside and it thrum with severity. Heat surged through every inch of my body and settled in a dull hum in my torso. A small pleased moan slipped through my lips. My eyes sprang open as embarrassment crept into my cheeks and I glanced up at the Wolf above me. His eyes narrowed and as he cocked his head slightly to the side, he spoke. “Never thought I’d see that reaction.” 

An unfamiliar embarrassed panic made me painfully aware how bizarre my reaction was. as I gasped, “Wh-What?”. I averted my eyes somewhat, though I felt compelled to watch his reactions in my periphery. My curiosity was clearly more paramount rather than the very deadly situation I was in. I tried to close my legs and twist my hips away, feeling the hardening arousal between my legs. The Wolf laughed again at me. His laugh was a strange, breathy one that was equally chilling as it was invigorating to me. ��If you want to kill me, can you make it quick?” I blurted out as I looked back again at him. He watched me with a growing sadistic elation glowing in his eyes that nearly stole my breath away. 

“No,” he answered and took a couple steps towards me. My stomach dropped as I trembled with hot shivers of anticipation. He paused again as another stream of wind passed around him.  More of his true delicious scent filled my being and I tensed instinctually. I pried away as I cleared my throat to mask another moan. One of his claws caught under my chin and jerked my head and eyes back into his enveloping gaze. He had dropped to his knees and straddled me, still towering over me but now within arm’s length. The heat radiating off him was maddening, and I felt my own blood begin to boil with growing desire being so close. A part of me still wanted to end my suffering, but it began toying with the idea of that being done in a more pleasurable way. 

“How about you help me and I help you in return?” He posed the question, and then lecherously licked at his fangs. My thoughts began to fog up, watching as his powerful chest stretched with his quickening breath. He noticed my focus wavering and dug his claw deeper in the flesh under my chin. My breath hitched.

“Help?” I dumbly repeated. He lowered himself until he was completely over me. I gasped through another moan. The radiating heat from his massive form could have easily melted me.

“Yes!” He affirmed in a lustful hiss. He dropped his head further and dragged his thick, wet tongue up my shoulder, collar bone and up my neck to the edge of my jaw. I mewled through his action and was left panting as he pulled back.. He leaned back again, smacking his lips, and then letting his tongue hang to the side of his snout as he peered into my eyes. I saw with great surprise and growing exhilaration and sincerity in his dilated eyes. 

It seemed I might live after all and come away with an elating tale if it were to be believed. I wiggled myself so I could open up my legs, displaying my own eager wet erection. Almost in response, his own enormous member emerged from his groin fur. It was already leaking with ravenous need and I licked my lips wantonly. “How do you want me?” I asked him audaciously. 

The Wolf groaned hungrily and grasped the back of my head and neck with a strong firm hold. “You aren’t in any shape to take me fully.” He explained as he pulled me up to a sitting position. He then lined me up with the tip of his cock practically kissing my lips. His other hand gripped at the nape of my neck and upper shoulder, the tips of his claws dangerously dug into my skin like an open threat. My whorish mouth salivated and I couldn’t help myself but flick my tongue out to catch a bit of his essence. I brought my tongue back into my mouth to sample his need and I felt my cock twitch and pulse and I let my tongue and mouth hang out, drooping as a moan ripped from my throat. The Beast grunted his approval with my reaction. “Impress me with your mouth and I’ll come back for you once you are healed for a proper fucking.” With that wonderful promise, I beamed playfully up at him as I began to take the head of his red rocket cock into my mouth. 

I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so pent up with dizzying desire and salivated so much at the taste of a lover. I clenched my lips around his girth and sucked softly as I teased his hole to test his sensitivity. He panted harder, but not enough for me to linger there. I inched myself down his shaft, taking time to taste every bit of his flesh, until I paused. His grip tightened at the back of my head as if fearing I would try to ease back. I moaned loudly as I eased him further into me, faulting as his tip grazed the back of my throat. His breath hitched with a heated gasp. His cock twitched and I sighed proudly. I glared up into his hooded eyes and took in all the ravenous lust that equally scared and thrilled me. Drool seeped down my chin as I finally pressed my lips at the base of his cock. My stomach churned and twisted, but I would not relent to such a skittish reaction. I hadn’t trained myself with nearly every centaur stallion I could find to be a quitter!

I leaned back, letting my tongue dance with the little room I had left in my mouth, until he warned me with a painful squeeze in both of his hands. Now that I knew what range I had, I began a moderately reckless pace in light of my extreme exhaustion. He groaned and grunted on every exhale, and I joined him with my own moans that sounded up my throat to vibrate against him. One of his fingers crawled to the point where he was fully hilted, and when he felt his tip buried so deep he began whimpering along with his orchestra of sinful sounds. 

Eventually, I surrendered all control of my pace to him as his need overtook my capacity to keep up. My eyes rolled back as tears began building at their edges. My hands found my own neglected member and tried in vain to keep up with his steadily increasing speed. Maybe it was the sheer force of him fucking me or being bombarded by his intoxicating scent and sounds, but very soon I was a desperate whimpering mess. I loved how his balls repeatedly smacked against me and how it told me he was getting close by getting harder and heavier. My head began to spin as exhaustion roared its ugly head, threatening for only a moment to ruin the moment but relented as I felt his base inflate before my puckered lips. 

I squeezed my eyes shut and relaxed my jaw completely so he could squeeze his knot into me. Tears streamed down, my entire being crying out at his greater girth and repeated throbbing muscle. His claws dug carelessly deep into my skin and scalp as he finally climaxed. He threw his head back as a booming and blood curdling howl erupted from him. This hauntingly beautiful call brought me up and over my own climate as I cried out. My cum squirted out of me as my body quaked from the rolling waves of ecstasy freed me from all the pain that plagued me that evening. He continuously pumped what felt like an endless load down the remainder of my throat into my stomach, filling me to my utmost capacity. The Wolf held me close as he rocked with the descending aftermath, his panting slowed into steady deep breaths. 

His hold on me became tender and gentle, a reassuring stroking of my head guiding me back to reality. He had already unsheathed himself when I came to and I opened my eyes as his attention and hands turned to my leg’s predicament. He cracked open the trap like it were a bothersome bramble bush, and he examined the extent of my injuries. “I will take you to a healer who owes me a favor,” he began telling me. I hadn’t realized how limp and spent I truly was until he easily gathered me up into his massive arms and cradled me like a child. The vibration of his words and my comfort in his arms felt otherworldly were the last things I remembered before succumbing to my consuming weariness. 

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Just spent a full six minutes weaving in ONE end on my knitting project. The knitting project is a blanket. The blanket is fair isle.

I’m going to be here forever

[blossoms-phan]

make me feel (ao3, 5.6k words)

[dlandofdreams]

リンリンシグナル⚡️

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

I'm sorry I can't take your call right now, I'm becoming unhinged about Transformers again,,,

[birdmenmanga]

(guy in the middle of making something big but cannot comprehend the fact that he is making something big because of his adhd): I've got to make something big. like huge

[bangcakes]

.

[kohakhearts]

at 16 i was emotionally aware enough to recognize i need to Vent my emotions. this thing im writing is a Vent Fic. these days i’ll start writing something and then midway through i’ll be like wow that’s kind of eerie, he sounds just like me fr. lol. anyway moving on :)

[whumpy-wyrms]

🫚, 🍒, and🫓?

from this ask game

ginger answered here!

🍒Cherry - Which two of your Ocs are most weirdly alike now that you think about it?

ASPEN AND ANTON. they’re so weirdly alike just hear me out.

they’re both WEIRD just in general like they’re silly fellas. they both love green, they both love animals and nature, they’re both connected to a specific animal (Aspen likes wolves and Anton likes rats), neither of them like people very much and would be happier living in a whimsical forest forever. they both got the tism and are trans masc, they’re both lonely and touched starved as fuck (but really who isn’t), just in general their personalities are similar. their NAMES are similar.

Anton and Aspen would info dump about literally anything and everything to each other, neither of them would ever stop talking. Anton would find a way to make Aspen a shapeshifter (and not fail this time) so he’d be able to turn into a wolf whenever he wants. Aspen and Anton would go outside ALL THE TIME and they would love going on walks in the forest together and befriend all kinds of silly animals.

Aspen wouldn’t want to leave because his life SUCKED before. as you know, he was a complete nobody and in his canon story, nobody cared that he died at all. so nobody would be looking for him if he was taken as Anton’s test subject, except Lyle, but in this fake au scenario i’m making up right this second uhh maybe she’s there too. or maybe Anton made a clone for Aspen i mean yeah that’s more likely.

no wait. Lyle would be FUN too. i haven’t talked much about her but she’s also weird and silly and unhinged like Aspen so like the three of them would be unstoppable together it’d be so silly wow. wow this is such a fun scenario

like Aspen and Anton are literally PERFECT for each other guys idk what Anton was thinking making that Dew guy his test subject. Aspen was RIGHT THERE. and he’s IMMORTAL

🫓(Idk what this thing is) - Wild card! Tell me your favorite fact or something you want to share about your Ocs or Oc world.

fun fact! while i was writing all that nonsense up there i got an even better idea. so i am maybe writing a tllr and brc crossover au where Anton’s a vampire and takes Aspen (who’s probably not immortal in this but who knows i literally just had this idea just now) as his thrall. currently losing my marbles over this actually

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

ive been genuinely distressed about how bad my adhd has been this past month

[iliterallyjustlivehere]

here is a little something i wrote a few months ago when i nearly quit theatre! complete projection onto Nick, per usual. 

the google doc i wrote this in is titled “nick is sad again.” it’s 1000 words of angst. please enjoy. <3

Nick Nelson hated rugby. He hated how physical it was, hated being touched and tackled. He hated the anxiety before a game and the sense of loss afterwards. But most of all he hated that he didn’t love it anymore. Rugby had once brought him so much joy. He had been team captain at his school and nothing had brought him so much joy. Other than Charlie, of course. He loved leading the team. He loved the unity of it. He loved that, even though they weren’t the greatest players in the world, they still had fun. He hated that he couldn’t handle it anymore. 

Going to Uni to play rugby sounded like the perfect option. He was definitely talented enough, and he loved it so much. He didn’t just love the act of playing, but also the mechanics and what makes a team or a player great. He wanted to be a coach for some kids' rugby team. He knew he didn’t need to go to college just to be a coach, but he wanted to. That’s what he hated the most. He hated that he hated it. 

It had been a long day. His new team just didn’t mesh well. They were all decent humans and phenomenal players, but their personalities clashed and their coach was not good at bringing them together. Try as he might, Nick couldn’t pull the team together. In a way, he had become captain. He wasn't an official captain, the real captain was quiet, reserved. He reminded Nick of Charlie, kinda. The Real Captain was the greatest player on the team, by far, but when it came to anything outside of Rugby? He was lost. So Nick had taken that part. He did pep talks, he gave quiet pointers, bought doughnuts on game days. The other guys joked about him being their “mascot,” or called him the “mom friend.” Nick didn’t know what to feel about these names. 

The drive to practice was awful as well. Nick was often convinced that his own driving was making him carsick, when it was just his anxiety. He knew this and yet still had to pull into parking lots during the drive to get his breathing under control. The intense nausea and dizziness kept him home some days, but he knew he couldn’t hide forever. He’d stopped eating  beforehand, which probably made things worse. He reasoned the skipping meals with the fact that he felt ill. No one wants to eat when they’re nauseous, even if it’s just from anxiety. 

The ride home was very different. The complete stimulation switch majorly fucked with his head. Going from an adrenaline fueled panic attack to the silent drive home was the worst. He would listen to music, but it hurt his head. He didn’t feel ill anymore, the issue was he didn’t feel anything at all. Dissociating became a common occurrence after heightened emotions. He just felt so physically and mentally sick. He knew it was hurting him. But he had to accept that this was the way things are. This was his own fault. He had chosen this, he had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

Arriving home was good. Opening the door to see Charlie’s face and feel his presence was the best part of everyday. If he could, Nick would bring Charlie with him everywhere. He was sure Charlie would go with him anywhere, but it just wasn’t feasible. It just wouldn’t work out. He was ashamed of how much he needed Charlie. Nick was so used to being the one that people needed, he didn’t realize he also needed people. People plural. Humans are pack animals, they need multiple people. They can’t find everything from just one person. But Nick secretly hated everyone but Charlie. Maybe not hate, perhaps just… distrust? Dislike? Nick didn’t know, but he couldn’t handle anyone else. He didn’t feel safe anywhere except for in Charlie’s presence.

Some days they would both ditch all their responsibilities and just sit in bed all day. Often these were Charlie’s bad days, so he would be staying in bed anyways. Nick insisted on staying home and taking care of Charlie, even though he could handle himself. He hated himself for this, but he loved those days. He loved having an excuse not to go to class or work. He loved caring for Charlie. Sometimes Charlie would cry, and Nick would rock him back and forth and tell him everything was okay, he was safe, they were safe. It was just as reassuring for him as it was for Charlie. 

Feeling needed by Charlie was an addiction. Feeling needed by anyone really. That was part of the reason he was still in Rugby. They needed him. Mom friend Nick Nelson. The one who provides snacks and makes sure everyone is hydrated. He realizes the irony here, since he had spent years providing snacks and drinks for Charlie. The difference was he loved caring for Charlie. It was everyone else, everything else that angered him. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let them down, they had come to expect him to be a certain way, so he had to put on the same mask every fucking day so as not to ruin anyone’s impression of him. 

What Nick hadn’t realized is as follows: Rugby wasn’t the issue. It was just something to blame. It was only a vessel for all the bad feelings. A reason for him to hate himself. Nick often gets so submerged in the mist that he forgets things. He forgets that he is human and therefore makes mistakes. He forgets that he needs to breathe too. The blinders over his eyes have been in place for so long he has forgotten anything else exists. 

Charlie knew something was up. You don’t sew your soul to someone and not know most everything about them. Charlie knew Nick couldn’t sleep with socks on, that he only reads books with happy endings, and he always, without fail, kisses the back of his hand when they’re both in bed and Nick thinks he is asleep. But Charlie also knows it’s best to let Nick open up on his own. In the past he had begged Nick to tell him what was wrong, but Nick would shut down. Charlie trusted that Nick wasn’t actively trying to hide anything. He was just hurting and not ready to talk about it. So, even though it pained him to see the paleness of Nick’s face and feel his cold hands, he kept quiet. He loved Nick quietly, so as not to overwhelm him. Every day that passed, Charlie’s heart hurt a bit more. His best friend, his love, his person was hurting. He realized this was probably how Nick felt whenever Charlie was struggling. 

Nick was at his breaking point. He couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t continue like this, just feeding the cycle of never ending pain. He had had enough. Arriving at home, Nick parked the car and just sat there for a moment. A long moment. Time was passing. The sun was setting. Still Nick sat. Charlie peeked through the window for the fourth time. It was time for Charlie to step in. 

[ourceliumnetwork]

me: completes a drawing it's taken me 3 weeks to get through also me: has at least one ongoing fiber art project and several writing projects

my brain: WE SHOULD MAKE BRAND NEW THINGS WITH THE YARN YOU WEREN'T GOING TO TOUCH UNTIL YOU FINISHED YOUR CURRENT PROJECTS.

me: can't argue with that

[izzy-b-hands]

So much of typing in particular as I get older is just shouting at myself 'USE THE FONT EVEN IF IT'S NOT YOUR FAVE. SET THE SIZE TO 12 OR MORE EVEN IF YOU THINK IT LOOKS CRAP/MAKES THE DRAFT SEEM TOO LENGTHY. YOUR EYES CAN'T DO IT LIKE THEY COULD BEFORE; WHY ARE YOU INTENTIONALLY MAKING THIS HARDER FOR YOURSELF?'

and I don't even have a good answer for that lmao

[foone]

I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"

But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.

Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!

I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.

Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.

Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)

And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.

You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.

So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?

My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.

(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)

[boygirlctommy]

oh god i was redrawing my first (unfinished) animatic and now its 1:30 am. uhm. goodnight <3

[thenightisland]

already 12k into a Thing and decided to do a word count on the rest of the /outline/ rip me