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#i was working on the daily for this class and it's going to be hard accepting that upcoming c or d grade because i've got a high b right now
tiyoin · 2 days
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Tbh if Trey was Yan for me, it wouldn't take much. When he's not Yan, Trey's my "I'm Ace but if he asked me to birth his kids I'd have to really think about it" character. I know he's sus...but if he was Yan I simply wouldn't even notice. Yeah, he's not normal, but Dot is silly, and would be like "huh it's weird that I pass out every time I eat one of Trey's strawberry tarts, must be allergic to strawberries" then he'd be like, "You must be right darling" and then stop serving me strawberry dishes.
I'm weak to my baker boy 😭 he would not have to try hard with me.
(for your readers who missed your initial Yan vice dorm Leaders post, this isn't just me simping over Trey Clover okay so shut up 😭)
oOooOoo dotty’s got a crush 🤭🤭
*the whole class ‘OoOo’s’ and points*
but seriously, yandere trey would be SO discreet. like you wouldn’t even be able to tell if he’s yandere or just some silly little baker boy who likes making you things 🤭
yandere trey just comes with the added bonus of daily naps! and stomach aches 😖 but dw! trey is right there with a soothing cup of tea!
the having kids with trey thing immediately stuck out to me like a sore thumb cause:
imagine a family with trey though??? IMAGINE THE DOMESTIC LIFE WITH TREY THOUGH???
living the dream of owning a bakery with your highschool sweetheart ☺️ maybe you have kids. maybe you have fur babies! all you know is that you’re living the life with your husband
though i definitely see trey as a family man, but if it’s yan! trey we’re talking about then i can imagine him playing a bit… dirty to get that large dream family he’s always wanted
maybe he pops holes in the condoms? or maybe he gives you one too many sweets! but you’re hot n bothered and about to pounce on him!!
but also, thinking about trey with an ace! reader.
i can definitely imagine a record scratch going on up there. even if it’s yan trey i still imagine him taking ace! reader’s / your emotions into consideration.
there’s gonna be a lot of subtle hinting towards family stuff. like when he makes you work the register everytime your regulars- usually families with small children, come in. or when he subtly puts his hands on your stomach whenever he hugs you from behind. OR! OR!! when you’re both walking your dog, a stereotypical family dog like a bernes mountain dog or a golden retriever; he’s gonna sometimes stop in front of store fronts and stare at the family if mannequins.
and it’ll just- it’ll just pull on your heart strings sooo much you start to seriously debate it.
i mean, what’s one child right? it’s not too big of a deal, right? i mean normally it would be, but you have trey! but also… the process :/ icky!!!!!
if you end up giving in, the gods are gonna bless mr. patient-as-a-saint trey clover with twins. and it’ll only spiral.
but at night raven, you wouldn’t even realize trey is monopolizing your time. like, you joined the science club because you were bad at potions! and it helps that you have a friendly face in case you’re nervous!
oh boy you look so skinny!! trey’s horrified! why don’t you join him and riddle, his closet friend for tea? he thinks you guys would get alone well!
need a lab partner? you’re both already in the same club so you’ll be able to do the project in the club! look how smart you are!!
you’re tired?? you can stay over with ace and deuce tonight at heartslabyul. don’t worry riddle approves since they both know you wouldn’t do anything to harm the first years rule following. but let trey bring you to his bathroom! you don’t wanna be in a bathroom brushing your teeth with a bunch of hooligans do you? trey didn’t think so. so don’t be shy when you’re following him around like a puppy, or do! it’s adorable and trey’s trying not to melt.
just,,,, HHHHH trey subtly trying to thread yourself into his life to the point you both have a routine together. to the point where it looks like you’re dating, but don’t worry!! he only sees you as a friend…
so ignore the ghost hands on the small of your back, so ignore how during a lunch rush he’ll press up against you- to shield you ofc! ignore how he always seems to intrude on your space when you’re sitting together. definitely ignore the secret touches you exchange when passing each other things.
or don’t!! cause trey would be putting in allll that hardddd work for nothing 🥺
…dot you’ve ruined me.
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COME ONE, COME ALL!!! You’re Invited To See The BEST BAND In The WHOLE Digital Realm!
Welcome to the Amazing Digital Marching Band!!! I, your conductor Caine, have gathered the VERY BEST musicians in ALL THE LAND to give you the most jaw-dropping, heart-stopping, mind-bending marching band you've ever laid your eyes AND ears upon! Don't be afraid and come on in! Diddle around with your favorite woodwinds, scream loud and proud with the brass, and keep perfect time and tempo with the percussion gang! I guarantee you, this band will be the best in all of the digital land, and you will NOT be disappointed by the marvels these hard-working individuals pull off! So get your instruments, get your drill, and get set! Rehearsal is about to begin, my friends! I salute to all a wonderful time here in this beautiful, musical, inescapable world!
Signed with a Salute, Caine, Head Drum Major
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The Amazing Digital Marching Band, sometimes abbreviated as TADMB, is an Alternative Universe to the independently animated series "The Amazing Digital Circus". This alternate universe takes on the question of "What would it be like to be stuck in a never-ending cycle of marching and concert seasons?" as well as "What would band practice in complete virtual reality be like?" To be put more simply, each main character found within "The Amazing Digital Circus" is assigned a different role that are typically shown in a high school/collegiate marching band. These roles are as follows:
-Caine: Head Drum Major -Pomni: (Assistant) Drum Major -Ragatha: Flute (Woodwinds) -Jax: Trumpet (Brass) -Gangle: Color Guard -Zooble: Marching Snare (Battery) -Kinger: Gong And Bass Drum (Pit/Auxiliary)
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Each character takes on a different piece that helps make a marching band full. One cannot exist without the other. Within this AU, the characters are shown going through the typical struggles, hardships, and perseverance that marching band members have to go through, but also shows the much more positive side of marching band: the community, the trust, and the lifelong friends.
This AU might even involve more than just marching band, leaking out into the daily lives that the characters live within the digital world they're trapped in, other interests they have besides music, and also possibly incorporating the fact that this AU takes heavy inspiration from high school marching bands by adding in elements of high school life, such as other "classes" the band members might be taking.
GENERAL ASK BOX RULES!
Do YOU have any questions for our talented performers? Any burning confusion that you want to confess? Than look no further than the BAND BOX! This is where you can gain information about the band, as well as some of the students within it! Just click "Ask The Band Members!", type in your question (anons are welcome!), and send it in to get an answer from our folks! However, there are some rules that you must follow in order to place a note in the Band Box! This is an EDUCATIONAL ENVIRONMENT after all, so please follow these rules our students have curated: -NO NSFW. None of the characters are comfortable answering questions like that and neither are...they. The person that created us. The one almighty. I wonder what they look like... -NO SHIP ASKS! As our creator has told me to state, "They encourage shipping of any of the characters/pairings you enjoy, as long as its not problematic! No ships are canon within this AU because they encourage enjoyers of all Digital Circus ships to enjoy shipping their favorite characters together without discourse! So please don't ask about any ships, but feel free to make your own ship content for this AU!" -NO OFFENSIVE ASKS. This encompasses basically everything on a basic DNI list, such as homo/trans/enby/xenogenderphobia, hate against any religion, xenophobia, misogyny, racism, sexism, discrimination, ableism, etc. Hate towards any characters/hate asks are also not permitted. -All in all please be kind and think about what you're typing before you send it! Our creator is currently very busy and is in the home stretch school-wise, so answers to asks may take bit of time! Please be patient!
The band members are excited to meet you and answer your questions! Once again, welcome to the Official Ask Blog for The Amazing Digital Marching Band!!!
Note From THE CREATOR :O
Hello! Welcome to my very first ask blog! I have never run an ask blog before, so I’m looking forward to this experience! I hope you all enjoy the content I create for this blog as much as I enjoy creating it! March on, March strong! -Mod Hino
A POLL???
Yes, my lovely little readers! That is correct! A POLL!!! If you have been so courteous to read this post all the way down here, YOU get to choose which character of "The Amazing Digital Marching Band" cast will get a fully-fledged reference sheet first! The poll will ask a week, and then I will start on the character that has the most votes! So choose wisely!
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crossbackpoke-check · 8 months
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a doc of omega yamo being a nuisance, you say?
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well…
#the doc sure does exist 🤷#me waiting to post this until i had compiled all the tags into the doc so it wasn’t just the empty doc i started with good intentions#that just said ‘yowling’#and then me not even doing that 😭 what’s in the doc right now? absolutely unhinged shit from ANOTHER yamo post. why#liv in the replies#anon i love you so much. this is the correct method to get me to do things (be interested) (bully me a little) (i have to write FOR someone)#maybe if i actually write something for omega yamo being a nuisance i will post snippets#and not have to create elaborate rules about posting them. also i keep telling myself it helps to be like. home & functioning to write#& maybe if i chilled the fuck out a little bit i would have the time to do fun things i like but i feel like i have been saying#‘ok once i get through this [semester/summer/working/class/season]’ for like. three years now but also i don’t feel like i have stopped ever#in my life so that may also be part of the issue. anyway! in the mindset now that i have to make time for things that bring me joy/creative#because otherwise there will never be time#but also telling myself that like. i work seven days a week 8.5-9 hours a day plus commute/classwork so it’s ok to only be able to come home#& do Adult Tasks & write my coursework requirements & ALSO i’m doing my fucking applications which i really really need to do & should take#priority & i am going to need to work very hard to do because. i don’t want to do them :)#so!!!! this is your daily tag dump on a post which it is not relevant to (on brand for me)#but also the point was to say thank you i love you please have 0 expectations because i don’t want to disappoint you#but i love your encouragement and am not taking it to be any pressure!! i just have to preface bc i am like this
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ramudamemura · 2 months
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hi guys
looks at you like this
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#look at this image it’s so image#don’t mind me i’m just stressing bc i go back to school tomorrow#i am kinda nervous for the spring semester#i actually think it’ll be better than last semester bc last semester was kinda ass but like#still nervous yk#fling posse save me fling posse#i think my hyperfixations (whatever they may be. rn it’s obviously hypmic) will become less aggressive once i go back tho#bc then i’ll have work and my social life AND school yk#which is kinda sad but kinda a good thing bc i am running out of fics to read and fanart to look at lmao 😭#i’m ab ready to start posting fling posse meta (don’t encourage me i have so many drafts)#it’s ok i really do think this semester will be better than last#the way i’m posting this while i’m supposed to be doing assignments 😭 goodbye#shut up diana#one of my professors is gonna b assigning daily quizzes#another one assigned an 84 question pre assessment to do before the first day of class#it was to let her know a baseline for our skill level which does make sense but i think 84 questions is a little excessive#like why are you being a try hard who r you trying to impress. the other professors?? 😭#rosho would be disappointed#anyway ik im being harsh and i shouldn’t be judging professors that i haven’t even met yet#but like. giving an 84 question pre assessment is giving that boy in middle school who tries way too hard in gym class and cries if he lose#like can you chill. pelase. please. chill lelkasepleazewi oh hmhod i am only one person i#i rlly wanna start this semester off right tho#like i’m gonna start drinking more water my goal is to finish my water bottle every day OUTSIDE of what i drink at meals#and i’m gonna go for walks more since they make me happy :)#and i’m NOT gonna be hard on myself when i can’t focus or procrastinate or take forever to do smth (hashtag adhd)#that’s gonna b a hard one tho#anyway sorry 4 spam if you r reading these tags ignore me#i just need somewhere to put this lmao#maybe i should get a diary or something#i can be like greg heffley
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bohemiandeer · 18 days
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You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.
But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.
Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.
I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.
FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.
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cardioasscular · 7 months
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my shrink upped my wellbutrin and I fuckin HATE the shakiness. fuckin STOP.
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prozach27 · 1 year
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.
#I think I’m at that annoying stage nobody ever talks about#where I was in survival mode for literally years#like FIVE YEARS#and now I think I’ve found a med regiment that works#and my life has kinda been reclaimed#but now I need to relearn how to function in society?#like normally if I had any energy it was devoted to making the most of my day bc I just never had energy and needed enjoyment#but now that I’m getting that daily it’s like. okay. time to focus on making the most of every day#but I have so much work to do lol. and I need to relearn how to overwork myself#like relearn how to have that willpower and desire to pursue goals that are hard which got me to where I am#clearly I have it.#but like I lost that… discipline while sick. and now that I think I’ve fixed the issue I haven’t fully recommitted to recovering it#there’s so many skills I wanna develop on top of my career#but I think my career is so ambiguous with its goals and shit that it’s easy to feel ok with things and let stuff slide#so that’s my goal for the remainder of the year.#fully refocus on developing routines and boundaries#and if I have to go overboard and sign up for classes etc to relearn then so be it#but I need to regain that discipline#idk it’ll all work out but for now I just gotta relax + unwind + change my habits#I guess you don’t think about how being chronically unwell for five years ingrains bad habits in you#so that even when you’re better you have to actively unlearn business as usual and develop something new for your routine#I’ll make it work. it’s just gonna take some time. down to be patient with myself as I relearn that lol
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sooniebby · 6 months
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I’m back…had a random thought when listening to men moaning and I just had to write it for y’all.. you know the drill, bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock
Smut fic—in which reader has the terrible experience of being able to read minds. It was fun at first when you first found out at age ten.. but then it just got bad because you couldn’t control it
Hearing your mom’s thoughts about your dad was traumatizing to say the least. As you grew older, you basically learned to tune people out by filling your head with your own thoughts. It usually works.
And it was your usual day in your philosophy class at the university you dreamed of going to.. and it was the usual in that you sat next to this random girl who slept the entire time. Which was good, you didn’t have to worry about her thoughts.
But much to your surprise, someone sat next to you. It was pretty shocking. This guy was “popular” in the sense he was handsome and everyone wanted to be near him.
He usually only sat next to his friends but today he was next to you..? Odd—but you didn’t care that much. You now had to focus on making sure his thoughts didn’t distract you from your professor..
But you did want to take a little peak—just to see what a guy like him would be thinking. At most, you expected him to be focused on taking notes
This guy… is he an actor, you thought to yourself. He looked to be paying attention but the only thing on his mind was sex.. with you.
And not just a fleeting glimpse of sex. it was.. wow, pretty graphic.
He was fantasizing about fucking you in an empty classroom. The classroom you two were in right now. You sprawled on the teacher’s desk, back arched with your legs being pushed towards you.
He was fucking you. Very harsh. He had a very vivid dream of how you’d look fucked out on the table—your moans filling the empty classroom.
His fantasy was solely on you. How you cried, how you arched your back, how you whined his name.. suddenly, he was holding tightly on your neck, lightly squeezing it while his thrusts began to practically knock your breath away.
“You sound so cute.. but you can be louder, yeah?” His fantasy self said to you, reaching down and slapping your ass which earned a scream. Which embarrassingly enough caused you to flinch in real life.
Okay, that’s enough..! You thought to yourself, looking away with a blush. Holy shit. This random guy… was dreaming about having sex with you?! But you guys didn’t even speak.. why.. did he like you?
You couldn’t help but glance over at him, trying hard to not let his thoughts flood your mind again. He was certainly hot—which made sense why a lot girls kept fangirling about him.. Black hair slicked back with gel, a nice nose, plump lips girls were jealous of, a lean body, cat-like eyes..
why was he into you?
He could have anyone.. but he’s thinking about you?
By accident, a slip of his thoughts flooded you again. He wasn’t thinking about sex anymore, he was actually focused on his notes. With a sigh, you decided to believe you were just going crazy and took a sip from your water bottle.
‘His mouth is so small.. would it actually be able to fit around my cock?’
You coughed heavily as water slipped out of your mouth. Much to your shock, the perverted guy handed you some tissues to wipe your mouth. You muttered a thank you, cleaning your chin and mouth.
Jesus, this guy is going to be the death of you.
‘He’s so cute…I hope he likes guys…’
You sighed, happy that he was finally thinking about you normally.
‘Ah.. what if it was my cum instead of water on his lips..? Oh, too much don’t wanna pop a boner in class.’
You could only cough once more in shock and cover your ears. Oh, you needed him away from you fast. But it seemed like he was going to actually start pursuing you soon..
But what you really wondered is if you could survive hearing his thoughts on a daily basis.. and by the embarrassing boner you were sporting right now
Yeah, you were going to be having boners in philosophy often.
‘Does he even like giving blowjobs..? Hope so.. it’d be hot cumming in his mouth..having it overflow.. oops, boner!’
This was going to be a long day…
My first ever one where the guy actually thinks and technically talks… :0! This was fun if you guys want, I’ll definitely expand on it. For now, Imma continue the roommate for tmmr <3
Yoga instructor is coming soon, can’t wait to have an actual fic for him, it’ll be in 2nd person!
Tag list: @nakedtoasterr @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @the-ultimate-librarian @iwishtobeacrow (ask to added to my tag list to be tagged in all of my works :3)
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notherpuppet · 1 month
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I know they’re probably not going to go into this (which i understand, there’s only so much time in an episode and they’re telling a different story) but I think about Al’s background a LOT. Get ready if ur in the mood for a read.
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To be a mixed Black person in America is a…bizarre experience. You come to realize that due to the coincidence of your genetic makeup, white folks may divulge information that they keep so closely guarded from the ears of “more obvious-looking” black folks. Im gonna bring it back to Alastor, but lemme give some personal context. I’m mixed with Filipino, so I’m pretty obviously not white, yet my ambiguous ethnic makeup in a predominantly white suburbia seemed to make white peers and people feel much more at ease in relaying their criticisms or prejudices of black people to me. I would hear someone feel comfy enough to spew vitriolic racist shit with me, then toe the line like a circus acrobat when around someone a few shades darker in skin tone and a few coils curlier in hair texture. It was constantly infuriating and holding my tongue was a practice to both investigate someone’s true nature and preserve my own safety. I did abandon that method of navigating life in America, and experienced the switch-up white folks made when I started ‘broadcasting’ my blackness. (E.G. beyonce pre vs. post Lemonade). The criticisms and prejudice confessions just came less often, til I saw them being caged up completely after white peers experienced backlash from me. After they realized “OH this bitch is a n*****!?”
Now this is from someone who is brown, but i also wanna talk about my white-passing cousin with a similar racial makeup as Al, who is from the south and oh BOY. (Let’s call him J for this post’s purposes). J’s navigation though simple daily life is such a constant contradictory experience, of which he is still working through in therapy. I think of one moment when he was manager at retail gig and his boss told him that whenever a Black customer enters, it’s policy to give them “exceptionally attentive customer service”. Essentially, “follow that n***** around”. This is just one modern incident of when J would hear the quiet part out loud, despite his Blackness, because his appearance was white enough to make white folks drop their guard. Eventually, my cousin and I took to the same direction where we used our advantage of disarming white folks against them when the time came. We would keep note and record of racism and unlock a sort of “this you?” when the opportunity to expose that person’s true nature came. It’s pretty vengeful thinking ngl, but it is really REALLY hard to resist exposing an asshole rather than attempting to teach an asshole to change their ways. Especially given that such an attempt is an ARDUOUS uphill battle. The experience of KNOWING the truth about what someone thinks of your people, and being opened to opportunities and information that you would not have access to if the chance of your genetics was only slightly different is bIZARRE, horrific, and fuel for constant inner turmoil. (It sucks y’all)
Now back to Alastor; to have been a mixed person in the Deep South in 1930s America—it’s not too difficult for me to imagine how traumatic and convoluted that experience must have been. Especially when legally and socially, things were so much more Black and White. And when you’re on the line in between that, when society does not prepare a place for your existence, it can be SO isolating. You may consider the absurdity of such an arbitrary method of determining class, status, and/or caste much earlier in life than peers, which only further isolates you. You hold a resentment of society now that you know exactly how the other side is operating to ensure your oppression.
And then I think of Al’s weird ass moral code. How he arrived in Hell and (according to Mimzy) began killing overlords with reckless abandon. This is someone who likely had to develop the cunning to navigate 1930s Deep South America as a mixed, murdering, psychopath without getting caught by authorities who are already gunning for you. And now he is in Hell where the rules of society have gone up in smoke and he can fully embrace his rage, resentment, and vengeance. A desire to burn down the powerful people of the world can be accommodated and ANY previous inhibitions can finally be released. The morality of rising above someone by cutting them down (instead of developing emotional/spiritual healing) has become the easier and satisfying option. Finally the opportunity to show the power-secure villains of the world how easily you can tear them down when nothing is holding you back any longer.
TLDR; The trauma of racism in America is pretty sufficient cannon fodder for a severe psychotic break, the development of socially debilitating behaviors and isolation, and a quest for profound vengeance. So maybe that can explain some of the enigma that is Alastor.
And this is just ONE facet of Al. I didn’t even get to bring up the isolation that comes with being an aroace nonbeliever in the 1930s Deep South. Like FUCK. I’m a mixed, aroace nonbeliever from a modern day conservative town and yall….what a weird experience for sure lol but anyway lemme get back to my life. Whole point of this was—-WHAT AN INTERESTING FUCKEN CHARACTER TO THINK ABOUT
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pwncez · 8 months
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   ℛℰℬ𝒰𝒦ℰ .ᐟ
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꒰ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 . . . ꒱ 3.5kay word count , black fem reader , set in university , frat boy ノ football player ony , sex on the floor :o , mean ony [ for a bit ] , mentions of infidelity [ more of miscommunication ] , pet name usage [ ex. mama, baby, lil girl, daddy, n pa’ ] , pouty crybaby reader , ony says da n word [ duh ! ] , creampie , breathplay , somewhat . . dacryphilia .
milkie’z note to you .ᐟ . . . surprise >< ! ! ! ! i know dis came out of no where but ‘ve been wantin to write abt ony 4 so long ): i hope u luvvv . n title of work is inspired by dis song ⭐️ !
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“keep fuckin’ movin’ . . — i want you to. keep fuckin’ movin’ and watch what i do to ya’ lil’ ass.”
you’re a good girl. you’ve always been.
you obey your parents, you maintain a three point eight grade point average in your university classes, when the moments presents themselves, you help an elderly cross the street, and help a small child grab a ball that somehow got itself wedged within a thorny bush. you try your best to give a sweet smile to passerbys while you’re out on your daily morning jogs, you tip your waiter an extra twenty on top of your pretax bill, and you recycle!
you’re a good girl — some will even label you as the best girl.
and how you got yourself caught in this situation here? bent over on all fours, on the floor, being mounted by your usual passive, soft spoken boyfriend like an animal in his bedroom within his fraternity house — his, puzzlingly quiet fraternity house should you add, being that almost everyone had been home when you initially stepped foot over the threshold twenty minutes ago, is a baffling mystery’s still pending conclusion you aren’t too sure of.
your soft knees burn against the material of your lover’s murakami rug underneath you due to the continuous back and forth motion of his weight pushing against and off of you. you’re aware that a puddle of drool is devising beneath your cheek. you feel the cool dampness of it — god, it’s gross. it’s disgusting.
“o-on’ — god, i c-c,” you don’t think you’re able to breathe. your lips shape around the opening syllables of his name, though they’re unable to fully form due to the never ending compress and expand of your lungs trying to suck in as much oxygen as they can. “onya’!” you squeal out his name when he releases a rough huff while adjusting himself more fully over you, one foot flat on the floor, the other leg still bent as he kneels.
his cock is . . .
you’re sure that words won’t be able to fully and accurately describe it. each time you find yourself a little bit tipsy with your friends — a little bit tipsy and needy, you go on a spiel about how perfect he is.
“you said, and this is like, the most fucking exact quote ever,” ymir’s face had been smoothened over in her usual deadpan as she fluidly sliced up a banana for her habitual post workout smoothie. “ ‘god, he’s jus’ so pretty and he smells so good and his dick — should i? mm . .’ and you laughed like a fuckin’ maniac right here. ‘okay, okay i will, its . . it’s huge,’” she tossed the fruit in the blender while you buried your face in your palms while squealing and shaking your head. “don’t wanna hear it anymore? cool. i didn’t wanna fucking repeat it.”
it is huge.
and it’s heavy. you practically feel the weight of it cumbering down inside of your squelching, chubby pussy — working and pushing right up against the spongy nub of your g spot.
you hate that he’s so . . angry. you feel how hard his large, soft hands grip your waist. usually, they touch you so delicately. they wipe your tears, fix a braid out of place, carefully adjust a shirt’s strap. they don’t spank you this hard and snatch you back into place when your body begins to slip.
onyankopon’s known for having a bit of a dark side, everyone on campus is aware.
what everyone sees at parties and lectures and quads is what they get. he’s quiet — doesn’t speak unless spoken to and keeps his opinions to himself. he’ll lounge on a bench with his friends, fists shoved in his billionaire boy’s labeled hoodie, legs spread wide agape to accommodate you upon his lap and he’d just . . . listen. rarely would he offer a laugh or comment — the most is a wide, handsome grin displaying all of his pretty, white teeth ( a glistening gold cap covering the bottom row at social events ) or a slight scoff at the mention of something irritable.
the country’s beloved, college quarterback star only fetes his hidden rage and anger on the field. opposing teams are the target of such . . and sometimes his own mates.
you’ve only had a first hand witness to such after meeting him following a losing game outside of the locker room, still dressed in your cheer uniform. you heard him yell for the first time, loud and livid . . his smooth voice echoing off porcelain walls and cold steel.
it had made you jump and recoil . . flinch back when he came walking out the doors, last of course, and automatically reach for you for comfort.
you hadn’t mean to, not at all, but would he shout at you like that, too?
ony didn’t appreciate that.
from then on, you were to meet him at his car . . a sleek, black on black hellcat, passenger seat decorated with your own pink trimmed cover and sewn in name.
this leaves you both here . . today.
you had ace’d an exam, received a more than beautiful check for your hours in working at the campus’ library along with a few tutoring sessions on the side, you were happy.
albeit, walking through his frat house’s doors and greeting ony who’d only given you a swift look up and down from the cute, gyaru - like beach wedges on your feet, the tiny, denim flared skirt on your hips, and gingham patterned crop top adorned upon your chest, you knew he was upset.
“what — hnnggg, please — w-what’d i do?” you drag out the last word through a slurred whine when he swats a specific slap against the back of your soft thighs. not even your ass . . he wants you to feel this shit tomorrow.
his breaths are hard. you can’t see him but you know his eyes, dark and drilling, are staring directly into the back of your head. “don’t play fuckin’ stupid, ( ❤︎ ),” he grits out quietly. “please don’t.”
he takes hold of the globes of your ass, spreading them far apart, making sure you feel the cool air glide over your holes. it feels colder than usual because you’re so wet. “ ‘s my fuckin’ pussy, yeah?” he pants out. “shit, ‘s supposed to be . . . givin’ my shit out — y’got me lookin’ like a fuckin’ bitch out here, man, look—“ his own words seem to ignite the roaring flames of his anger.
you squeak when he reaches down to grab you by the front of your throat, squeezing it just hard enough for you to gasp on your next inhale.
an inkling of fear plants itself within the pit of your stomach. what does he mean? what is he talking about? “ ‘m not.” tears paint your face, sticky and warm. your make up is ruined. no fair. you were so excited for the beach date you planned for the both of you . . you’d even picked out fat, ripened strawberries and dipped them in chocolate to harden the night before yourself. you even got a heart shaped pizza customized with his favorite toppings to shape out the both of your initials on it! “ ‘m not, i swe—“ you hiccup. “—ar . . ‘s yours, daddy. m’pussy’s all yours, i p-promise.”
ony thinks you talk a big game. you sound so genuine. how do you do that?
he’ll buy into it, “yeah,” he licks his lips, bending you further back, deepening that arch until it looks somewhat painful and he tilts himself forward.
he makes you look at him like that, from upside down and he admires the tears that shine across your soft cheeks. he huffs a scoff at the sight of your drool laminated chin and your shuddering body. “yeah, i bet,” he murmurs. “good girl ( ❤︎ ) . . fuckin’ cheerleader . . top ten on the dean’s list . . . gettin’ over and fuckin’ playing paradis university’s star quarterback ony asare,” his thrusts have slowed. he tilts his head, face a calculated blank, “think i don’t know what typa’ shit you tryna’ play with me, lil’ girl?”
you wish you could take a peek inside of his brain — finally get an understanding as to what he was talking about. “ ‘m not playing you, ony,” you realize now that the tears on your face were not only a cause of overbearing pleasure, but pain as well. you can hear it in ony’s voice how much he’s hurting and you hate that he won’t allow you to fix it. “w-what did i do?”
ony has stopped moving. he keeps your face in his hands and you see a muscle in his jaw tick as he tries to keep from speaking.
“nah,” he murmurs.
you sniffle, soft lips pouted, “talk to me, pa’.”
“no.” he lets you go and you fall forward, quietly catching your breath.
“yes.”
“you know what the fuck you did.”
“how do i know if i keep asking you?” you give a soft, little whine, making a move to pull yourself off of his dick to face him but he keeps you where you are with a firm smack to your ass.
“i saw you with my own two eyes smilin’ in your ex’s face . . i saw you invite that nigga into your apartment.”
god.
you knew that decision would come back to bite you in the ass. you bow your head, eyes closed. “ony . .—“
“—if i catch you in a lie, i’m done with you. you hear me?” abruptly, his voice doesn’t carry that edge anymore. he’s quiet and soft . . he nearly sounds like your ony again, which queues you in on the realization that he’s telling the truth. “gon’ be y’last time with me . . near me . . touching me. and i put that on everything i love.”
“ony, we didn’t do anything,” you turn your head over your shoulder to gaze into his eyes, making sure he read how genuine you were.
ony’s been the only person to recognize your tale ticks. you both know this.
“i found a box of his things buried in my closet that he never picked up, i swear,” your voice is a meek little thing . . broken and weary. “i dunno, to give you peace of mind, ymir was even home that day. i know you both share your own bond and we both know that she wouldn’t lie, not even for me. we didn’t do anything. he picked up the box and left . . wasn’t even in my apartment for three minutes.”
ony licks his lips, looking away from you for a few seconds. when he begins to slowly shake his head, you crumble.
your heart feels like it’s disintegrating within your chest as you go to speak, breath gone, “p-please, i would n-never do that to you,” you weep and go to pull off again but he keeps you still, once again. “onya, please.”
“lemme think, man. relax,” he places a palm at your lower back, right between the piercings that puncture the deep dimples at the base of it. he needs you quiet for a moment.
he saw that three days ago. while on the way to surprise you with your favorite food and that new marc jacobs tote you’ve had in your wishlist just because, he saw a familiar head of black curls and knew who the person had been.
your fuckin’ ex.
you and ony have been together for about twelve months. you dated jonah your freshman year of uni and the both of you hadn’t even lasted more than six, however the shit he did to you during the time was foul.
ony doesn’t like him. not one fucking bit. the only thing keeping him from sending a punch hard enough into the fucker’s face to knock him into a coma is his scholarship and, above all, you.
so, to see you open your door for him . . clearly willingly, dressed in that tiny ass, cute nightgown, give him a smile . . and step aside to allow him entry into your home had made ony feel a rage unorthodox to earth’s atmosphere. he felt sick to his fucking stomach.
wanted to block your number and socials then and there though could never get himself to do it. you were so excited for your date today, blew up his messages with your precious emoticons and exclamation marks that same night like nothing ever happened.
still, above all, you were telling the truth. ony can tell . . he feels it radiating off of you. your sweetness and how good you are, it’s palpable. regardless, you were right, too. if he still even felt a seed of doubt, he can ask ymir. the most blunt person the both of you knew — doesn’t hold shit back for anybody, best friend or not.
“. . . cross your fuckin’ heart,” he murmurs, side eyeing your pretty face face, foliated with woe and sorrow.
“i swear it to the stars.”
god, he feels so stupid now.
he rubs a hand across his tapered waves, bitter embarrassment slowly spreading across his chest similar to a crack in an icicle.
fuck it.
he suddenly presses you back where you were, hearing your little squeal of shock. “was gon’ have me transfer to another school and shit,” he huffs, jaw clenching once more at the thought. “would’ve had me cryin’ like a fuckin’ wimp . . you scared me, mama . . fuck.”
he can’t imagine losing you. ever.
“ ‘m s-sorry,” your toes coil tight within your wedges as he resumes that same brutal pace. you think his thrusts are hitting even harder now that he’s finally gotten a quiet mind for the first time in days. “s-should’ve never . .” you can’t get your words out but ony knows what you’re going to say.
he licks his thick, soft lips, pinning the bottom one beneath his top row of teeth, “should’ve never let that fed into your apartment . . should’ve took that box and burnt up all his shit, mhm . . i know.”
yeah.
he gets it.
you melt underneath him, successfully opening up your pussy even more, letting him batter it senseless. you feel yourself weakly gushing out your juices, feel a few droplets racing down your inner thighs to your knees, feel it packing into a paste at the foundation of his thick cock.
“unh, shit,” ony lets his head fall back at how perfect it all feels. “f-u—uuck . . gimmie this shit. take it, mhm, take it.”
your hips start to move. not back and forth but in smooth circular motions. ony watches how your fat, soft ass cheeks bounce off of his sculpted abdomen, how the skin ripples and pleats akin to hard ocean waves the stronger he fucks you.
to simply imagine another person in his place . . .
ony feels a murderous fervor burn inside of his chest. no longer opting to hold his tee out of the way, he pulls it up to bite down on the bottom and hold you more by the sides of your torso. his rhythm slows but he digs in deeper.
the steady smack . . smack . . smack sound of your skin meeting drives your brain into an empty void. “ohhh . . shit,” you moan out, honing in on the sensation of his balls, heavy yet firm, slapping against the throbbing bulb of your hard clit. “don’t s-st . . god, ony’ you’re,” you shiver, burying your face inside of your arms. you feel out of body. you can’t finish your sentence, he hears you begin to cry — all broken and full of mindless babbles and he smiles around his shirt.
“there we go,” he murmurs. “i’m diggin’ this shit out, mm? . . tell me how it feels, beautiful.”
your soft voice is but a quite whimper when you give a ‘ so good. ‘
ony reaches behind him for the neck of his shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it to the side, prior to pulling out and swiftly turning you over onto your back.
the position change is so sudden. you blink, watching the world oscillate until you focus on him. you watch him lean down before he kisses you . . soft and slow as his hands part your legs open at the thighs. “put it in for me,” his low voice murmurs against your glossed lips. immediately, you comply, reaching between you both for his dick.
it throbs in your little hand, hard and wet with your slick. you tap his fat mushroom tip on your entry before letting it slip inside, mouth dropping at the instantaneous feeling of pleasure of his shaft splitting you wide open. the both of you groan out your little sighs, not bothering to separate your lips an inch. you can’t explain how happy you feel — with him, underneath him, touching him. “i l-love you,” you mewl when he’s dropping his dick in and out of your soppy center. “o-only you, pa’ . . i mean it.”
he nestles his face in your neck, breathing in a deep inhale. you smell like vanilla and jasmine. “love you . . m-maybe too fuckin’ much,” he admits quietly into the skin there. ony can’t help it. you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more.
he feels your cunt clenching down tighter and tighter, it only spurs on his own release, allowing his body to tense more and more. ��hold it,” he breathes, pressing the pads of his fingers into your skin tighter. “hold that shit, baby . . wait.”
“i can’t,” you’re gasping while your nails prick against the rippling muscles of his back, splitting smooth, dark brown skin and revealing oozing plasma. you feel the muscles in your legs spasming. you know it’s going to hit you hard. “oh my god.”
ony starts to maneuver his hips, pivoting them with each inwards thrust, letting himself get lost in the feel of your ribbed walls, soft, gushy, and tight, massaging his dick, almost deliberately trying their best to work his nut free. “you f-fuckin’ dangerous, man,” he whimpers out your name, heavy hands grasping for the soft cheeks of your ass to begin to lift your hips and make you meet him halfway. “f-fuck, ‘m gonna . .”
“metoometoometoo.”
the both of you work desperately — recognizing that you’re both on the edge of something phenomenal. “cum in me,” he hears your pretty voice gasp in his ear. “please, daddy . . c’mon. gimmie it.”
dangerous isn’t the word, it doesn’t even cover half of what you are.
ony feels his toes curl and his muscles tense. his eyes snap tightly shut. “gotdamn,” he feels it. “. . . fuck!”
you cum when he does, legs escaping his hands to wrap tightly around his waist. you hold his hips in with your thighs, keeping him still. stars dance behind your eyelids as you hear your release audibly pour out of you and down the seam of your ass. you feel ony’s cock pulsing as he pushes out shot after shot of thick, warm cum, letting it all gather in that tiny crevice behind your cervix.
“s-shit, baby, wait,” ony’s hands are gripping at you. it’s as though he’s trying to pull you closer and peel you away.
your voice is dazed as you reach for his handsome face, rubbing your thumb softly across his bearded jaw, “shh, jus’ feel it, pa’ . . don’t i feel good?”
he fights it for about a second more.
he’s never came inside of you before . . inside of anybody.
but fuck, he feels you working it out of him, clenching and releasing. he feels how good it is.
he lets himself relax.
“. . h-have to buy y’lil ass a plan b now,” he groans, feeling the beginning factors of sleep begin to pull his eyes low. how immediate it is scares him. you fucking scare him. ony lets his body relax on top of yours, on the floor.
the way you rub his back is comforting. he can feel your heart thudding hard within the cage of your ribs. he’s sure the beat of it matches his own. “mhm,” you quip quietly. “. . our date?”
he groans, pecking a soft kiss underneath your jaw, “let’s take a nap, mm? a lil one . . gimmie thirty minutes.”
it takes over ten minutes for you to lift the both of you up off of the floor, complaining about how ‘gross’ it’d be for you guys to doze off there but you make it for his bed, collapsing down with your body on top of his now. your eyes are closed and your breathing is calm when you feel him kiss the crown of your head, “sorry for . . accusing you and shit,” at the sound of how bashful he sounds, it makes you want to smile. “wasn't cool. i gotta work on that.”
“you do,” you pout and lift your head to look up at him. “wasn’t nice.”
he licks his lips, eyes closed, smirking a bit, “y’got me outta’ character . .” at only the simple thought of his demeanor an hour ago, it all makes him want to shun himself away to spare the humiliation. “i don’t do all’lat.”
your responding giggle is precious, “you don’t do all’lat?”
“nah.”
“coulda fooled me.”
ony lifts his arm up high, eyes still closed, before letting it fall with little to no finesse, so that his hand can crack down onto your ass with a thundering smack!
you yelp out a high, whiny, “ony!”
“ ‘m sleeping. shh.”
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abbyshands · 2 months
Note
more nerdy abby please
nerdy!gf!abby headcanons
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
a/n; well, yes! how could i say no to that? <3
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; use of princess/angel/baby, abby coaxes reader on her period, implied strap-on, praise and a little degrading, cunnilingus, fingering, implied brat x brat!tamer dynamics (?), scissoring
P.S.; please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don’t stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking you to take the side that i’m on. i will be linking all of these resources in each post from now on. free 🇵🇸
LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help | places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
♡ fluff
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who is a biology major, planning to work as a doctor, and she freaks out whenever you get hurt. it could be the smallest of bruises and she’s there with bandages, wrapping you up, cleaning your skin, or whatever the case may be. there are times where she’ll scold you like a parent for being reckless, rattling off each and every fact she knows about the “delicacy of the human body,” as she calls it. “it’s like you do it on purpose, princess,” she grumbles, but you know deep down that she’s never really mad at you.
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who not only cares for you when you’ve got a cut or bruise, but also when you’re sick or on your period. it’s one of the only times she’ll drop all of her work, but then again, you’re the only person she’d ever drop her work for. if you have bad cramps, she’ll come to your dorm and cuddle with you, ensuring that you’ve taken medicine and are using a heating pad to assist with your cramps. she’ll spoon you from behind as she rubs your abdomen—where they usually are—whispering sweet things to you as you squirm in discomfort. “it’s okay, angel. it’ll pass. you’re okay.”
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who does her homework while cuddled up in bed with you. it’s amazing how she can do it, papers in her hands as you lay across her lap, or are cuddled up into her side. she’s managed to find a good balance in doing the work she’s meant to be doing while also ensuring that she isn’t ignoring you. you’ve fallen asleep numerous times to abby playing with your hair, and the sound of her scribbling away on her papers as she does so.
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who messages you during the day, a lot, just to check in on you on a regular basis. it’ll be small things, but it makes you feel cared for in every sense of the word. “did you eat today, princess?” “how was class, angel?” “feeling okay?” and if not: “do you want to come by my dorm? we can talk.” and, every single day, she will message you this one: “i love you.”
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who worships you like a goddess. she tells you how gorgeous you are on a daily basis, making sure you know how much she sees you for who you are. she loves every inch of you: your face, your eyes, your lips, hips, thighs, all of it. there’s not a thing in this world she doesn’t love on your body. “prettiest girl in the world,” she’ll say, and, if you’re feeling insecure, “what do you mean? you’re a real life princess, angel.” she’ll let you know just how mesmerizing she thinks you are with no shame.
✮ smut (18+)
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves to look you in the eye while she fucks you, but prefers to take you from the back. she’s obsessed with the way you whine and moan her name when she pulls your hair, not too hard, while she pounds into you from behind. “that’s it, princess. know you love when i fuck you like this, don’t you?”
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who praises you a lot, no matter if she’s behind you, on top of you, below you, it doesn’t really matter. she’ll tell you how much of a good girl you are, how well you’re receiving. “there you go, angel. you’ve got it,” she’ll coo, along with, “good/pretty baby. you look gorgeous like this.” her ways of worshiping you will never not come into the bedroom. “you take me so well, angel,” is also one you hear very much.
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who is a giving girl at heart. if there’s one thing she’ll spend the rest of her life doing, it’s eating you out, just to see that look of pure bliss on your face when she does it. she’ll kiss and bite up your thighs before she begins, leaving hickeys on your skin. then, she attacks your cunt in an almost ferocious passion, devouring your pussy like she’s running out of time to do so. she always feels herself get wet when she’s got you arching your back off the bed, whimpering prayers, and whispers of abby’s name. her glasses fog up during it all, and are always covered in your arousal and release by the time she’s done, but she never cared at all for that. she’s skilled in what she does, using her fingers to curl inside your g-spot while her lips attack your clit, easily getting an orgasm out of you each and every time.
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who isn’t big on degrading unless she’s praising you and degrading you in the same sentence. “my pretty little slut,” “you’re my good whore, aren’t you,” and “you’re my whore, d’you hear me? mine.” she doesn’t like to degrade you because she genuinely feels you’re too precious for that, her baby. so, she only does it like this, and the reason she does it at all is because you’ve told her that you like it. however, she can get just a little mean if you’re being a brat to her. “don’t give me that attitude, princess,” “you’re too pretty to be a brat,” and, “don’t test me, baby.”
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves scissoring with you when you’re on top of her. the way you rub your soaked pussy onto hers, grinding your hips on her lower body like the needy girl you are. she loves to watch you fuck yourself as her own climax builds inside of her, and it feels nice to not have to do the work for once. she can get a little whiny herself when she feels your clit rub onto hers, grabbing your hips as she moans loudly. “f- fuck, baby, that feels so good. keep going. don’t stop,” and, “you like this? you like riding me, hm?” she also firmly believes that your bodies were made to fit like this from the beginning, and she always tells you that during it all. “my cute girl. you’re just for me. no one else makes me feel this good,” and “made just for me, princess? yeah, i know you were.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
———
999 notes · View notes
tiyoin · 2 months
Text
📍pt 1 | pt 2.
no thoughts just thought about twst’s other mc
you were friends with yuu in your original life. two halves of a whole.
but you were shyer when it came to new people while yuu was more out going. so you couldn’t help but watch enviously as yuu started getting friends- a lot of them- right off the bat.
of course you were still best friends, always making time for each other no matter how hard it was to.
once a week you and yuu would spend the whole day together no matter who you ran into.
ace and deuce? great! they joined the party! but you wouldn’t even look at them nor talk to them out of pure anxiety.
of course you’d talk to them if they spoke to you first. have a little wave everytime they greeted you.
it took you 1 monthh to be able to be able to greet them on your own.
or! if the infamous leech twins were to interrupt your yuu time you would always cling to them as the two green giants would intimidate you.
didn’t help that you could feel their eyes linger on you either. your eyes always meeting theirs if they happened to say something that made you laugh out loud.
of course they picked fun at you for not talking, or barely talking.
“oh? y/n i didn’t know you could talk”
“ehhh, i forgot you were here”
was something you got on the daily. yuu would laugh it off and sling their arm around your shoulder, telling whomever about how much of a chatter box you were! always finished it off by cooing at you and saying ‘how you were shy’ around people, especially guys.
you were in hell to be fair.
although, you were able to make your own friends; like silver. you were the only ones not paired up for the joint potionology lesson.
silver because he was sleeping, and you because yuu was swarmed by their other friends and you went to the bathroom when he announced it was a pair up.
you had counted before and there was an odd number of people. so if you went to the bathroom everyone would have to pair up and when you came back you’d be able to work alone!!
sound proof plan right! turns out one of the leeches snuck into the class when they weren’t supposed to so your headcount was slightly off.
when you say next to silver you debated waking him up. looking to yuu nervously they shrugged, motioning you to wake him up.
but he looked so… peaceful. so you started doing the work on your own, like how you intended. you kept sneaking peeks at him as the minute hand ticked on.
crewel was too busy with another group (ace and deuce) to really bother with you or silver-
“oh-“
gasping, your head snapped to sliver’s as your startled eyes met his groggy ones. his eyes individually blinking as he yawned.
“are you-”
“we uh, got paired up for a project…”
he sat up right, clearly surprised as he looked around. seeing all the pairs hard at work, he looked at your chemistry set with guilt.
“i’m sorry for sleeping, i didn’t even know we were paired together. you could’ve woke me up”
you smiled slightly, shaking your head as you struggled to meet his eyes. “don’t worry about it, i was planning on working alone but counted wrong, and you seemed so peaceful that i didn’t have the heart to wake you”
he sighed, slouching over his seat “i appreciate it, but next time don’t be afraid to wake me up, okay?”
you nodded as you flipped the paper to catch him up.
it was nice talking to someone other than yuu for once. someone who wasn’t as boisterous and a handful. someone who didn’t have trouble follow them like a shadow. yeah it was different, but you’d take any different slice to mix up your mundane life.
you didn’t know if it was sliver, or an instant connection, but you both slowly drifted from the topic and started talking about sleep. your lack of and his overabundance of.
“you’re kidding?? you fell asleep on your horse?? i’m sorry- i shouldn’t laugh” your head threw back as you tried holding back your laughter. silver chuckled, cheeks and ears turning a soft peachy hue, he shifted his bangs between his thumb and pointer finger. silver was recounting the tale of when he fell asleep on his horse during an equestrian club practice, causing the horse to run off with him still attached.
opening your eyes a bit, you saw more than one person staring at you. matter of fact, it seemed like almost the whole room was looking in your general direction. instinctively, you shut your mouth and hunched over yourself as you cleared your throat. staring down at the paper, you erased a sentence before re-writing. your body felt like it was on fire as you bit your lip nervously.
fuck, that was humiliating.
“you should laugh more”
your eyes shot up to silvers. he had a slight smile as he looked at you through his bangs, he flicked his eyes down to keep writing which only lasted a moment longer as his eyes fluttered before he lifted his head.
“you always seem so… depressed”
“ouch” you grumbled, yet he kept going
“you wouldn’t be so alone here if you smiled and laughed more, believe me, you have a wonderful smile and a contagious laugh”
‘no shot he’s fucking rizzing me’ you gasped internally as you felt your cheeks get redder. you fought back the urge to fan yourself as you felt your clothing on your skin.
everything seemed too much, the lights, your clothes, the table, his eyes.
“are you okay y/n?”
you nodded, before quickly shaking your head as your breathing picked up.
1,2,3 1,2,3 you repeated to yourself as your fingers took alternating taps against your thumb.
“let me take you to the nurse”
“i-im fine, really, thanks” you blurted out, standing up before beelining it to crewel. even as your legs carried you swiftly through the isles, you felt eyes rake the back of your body, scan every part of your being.
lord you just wanted to burst out into tears. never late to the party, your vision blurred as tears threatened to slip from your waterline down to your cheeks.
change of plans, you walked past crewel who was busy helping yuu’s group to notice you quickly shuffling to the door.
opening it gently, you all but slipped through the crack. closing it softer than you opened it, you side stepped to the wall and just- breathed.
oh you thought it was cute breathing? HAHAHAHHA. wrong
gasping for breathe, you looked down the hallways. once reassuring that it’s all clear you speed walked down the corridor. you heard a door open behind you as you kept your pace, you didn’t know where you were going but you needed space.
“y/n!” your body jerked to stop, but you kept walking. you couldn’t recognize the voice and you figured ‘hey there’s probably like 20 y/n’s here, they’re probably not talking to me!’
“y/n! wait up!!”
looking back, you saw a blob of brown hair quickly make its way towards you.
slowly, like a deer caught in headlights, you made your way towards the blob. it was probably yuu.
right you were, as the closer they came the more you were able to make out their features.
“hey” you greeted, waving awkwardly as they slammed into you, arms wrapping around you tightly.
you squirmed uncomfortably, yuu being perceptive got the hint and flung off you like you had a disease.
“profesor crewel gave me permission to take you to the nurse! of course i had to convince silver not to go with us, but he wouldn’t budge! so he’s coming with your stuff after class!”
why they were so preppy after you almost had a panic attack (almost??) annoyed you slightly, yet you couldn’t blame them. they didn’t know.
silently, you nodded and started walking to the nurse again. you couldn’t see it, but yuu was waving to the small group that formed by the door; the first years. yuu only followed you once they all were pulled inside.
the majority of the walk was spent trying to calm yourself down. yuu stayed silent, trapped in their own world to give you time to reflect.
you were about to grab the handle to the nurses office when you noticed yuu walked right past you and the door.
“yuu you passed it”
“i know”
“wait you were serious about going to the nurse?”
you shrugged, i mean, what else would you do? crewel would skin you if he found out you skipped.
“i don’t wanna be made into a coat”
yuu chuckled, motioning for you to keep walking with them. looking between an inching away yuu and the red, ‘nurses office’ spelled out on the glass door, your feet moved on their own as your hand lingered on the knob.
yuu cheered as they walked back to you before guiding you in the middle of the hallway. far from the nurses door.
“do you wanna talk about it?”
you groaned, fisting your hair as you remembered what made you spiral. slamming your hands into your face, you grumbled out a response. yuu leaned closer, jokingly telling you to repeat it.
“he complimented me”
yuu stopped walking, hands hovering your shoulders as their eyes asked for permission to touch you. nodding, you were met with a gentle impact of their hands on your shoulders as they lightly shaked you.
“you started crying cause he complimented you??” they laughed, going on and on about your ‘crybaby rizz,’ and ‘how he looked like a kicked puppy because he thought he said something wrong.’
“i- i wasn’t crying!” you argued, but you both knew that was a lie as you cried easily at things.
that wasn’t the reason though… you wanted to tell them, yet when you opened your mouth to tell them what really happened, your throat closed up.
it wasn’t he compliment, but the fact that everyone was watching you. every single pair of eyes in that classroom put you under a microscope and inspected you like an amoeba when you laughed.
and the fact that most of them watched you storm out of the classroom in emotional turmoil made you want to claw your eyes out.
you sighed, knees buckling as yuu’s hands kept themselves purchased on your shoulders as you caught yourself.
“are you sure that’s it? you can tell me anything you know” they looked so worried, brows furrowed, smile long gone from their face, and their nose was even crinkled.
but no matter how strong your throat was, it would never be able to withstand the flood gates that opened once yuu said those magic words. “it just… everyone was staring at me- and i mean staring. like i was an animal they’ve never seen before at a zoo! last time i checked i wasn’t a animal on display! it just made me really conscious about… well everything”
yuu’s head tilted in thought “do you know why they were staring? did you do something?”
“… i laughed”
“… you… laughed?”
you nodded
“wait i’m confused, why the hell would they all look at you then”
“RIGHT” you yelled out, the knots in your back loosening the tiniest amount. no matter hard you tried to wrap your head around it, you laughing shouldn’t have been such a spectacle. yet it was.
“i’m never laughing again- OR going to that class again, i cant, ill die” you hunched over, curling into yourself as you dig your palms into your eyes as you let out numerous groans and sighs. even shaking your upper body for added effect.
yuu chuckled, patting your hunched over form “well i think you should laugh more, only for me though! cause i like it when you smile just at me!”
you rolled your eyes, commenting how greedy they were, and how one could get the wrong intentions based on wh-
“no i want you to get the wrong intentions. well, the right ones for me anyways. i’ll let silver have you for a bit, but make sure you only smile for me, ‘kay!” their arm slid down your back before it found the dip in your lower back.
freezing slightly, your eyes slowly trailed from the floor to yuu. their hand laid there for a moment, almost like they were engraining how you felt under their touch in their mind, before they quickly moved their hand back up to your upper back.
keeping you in their grasp, they started yapping as you two kept walking down the hallways.
they didn’t bother to wait for you to talk
you couldn’t notice, of course, but while yuu’s hand was in the small of your back a certain someone from class had interrupted the moment.
yuu being yuu didn’t tell you, as they were already gone when you started walking again.
i wrote this on the toilet.
why does no one talk about how AWFUL it would be if someone with social anxiety got transported to twisted wonderland 😭
like i’d have ZERO friends, expect for 1 or 2 people cause DAMN
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theculturedmarxist · 1 year
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In photos of 2023’s World Economic Forum- or Davos as it is commonly called, after the Swiss resort town where it annually occurs- you might not notice the HEPA filters. They’re in the background, unobtrusive and unremarked upon, quietly cleansing the air of viruses and bacteria. You wouldn’t know- not unless you asked- that every attendee was PCR tested before entering the forum, or that in the case of a positive test, access was automatically, electronically, revoked. And if you happened to get a glimpse of the strange blue lights overhead, you could reasonably assume that their glow was simply a modern aesthetic choice, not the calming buzz of cutting edge Far UVC technology- demonstrated to kill microbes in the air.
It’s hard to square this information with the public narrative about COVID, isn’t it? President Biden has called the pandemic “over”. The New York Times recently claimed that “the risk of Covid is similar to that of the flu” in an article about “hold outs” that are annoyingly refusing to accept continual reinfection as their “new normal”. Yet, this week the richest people in the world are taking common sense, easy- but strict- precautions to ensure they don’t catch Covid-19 at Davos.
These common sense, easy precautions include high-quality ventiliation, use of Far UVC-lighting technology, and PCR testing. You’ll also see some masks at Davos, but generally, the testing + air filtration protocol seems to be effective at preventing the kind of super-spreader events most of us are now accustomed to attending.
It seems unlikely to me that a New York Times reporter will follow the super-rich around like David Attenborough on safari, the way one of their employees did when they profiled middle-class maskers last month. I doubt they will write “family members and friends can get a little exasperated by the hyper-concern” about the assembled Prime Ministers, Presidents and CEOs in Switzerland. After all, these are important people. The kind of people who merit high-quality ventilation. The kind of people who deserve accurate tests.
Why is the media so hellbent on portraying simple, scientifically proven measures like high-quality ventilation as ridiculous and unnecessary as hundreds of people continue to die daily here in the US?
Why is the public accepting a “new normal” where we are expected to get infected over and over and over again, at work events with zero precautions, on airplanes with no masks, and at social dinners trying to approximate our 2019 normal?
We deserve better. We deserve to be #DavosSafe as the hashtag going around on twitter puts it. Your children deserve to be treated with the care that world leaders are treating each other. Your family deserves to be protected from the disease which is still- unlike the flu- the third leading cause of death in the US. We don’t deserve to be shoved back into poorly ventilated workplaces while our politicians and press assure us that only crazy people would demand to breathe clean air.
Clean water and clean food are rights we fought for; we have regulatory bodies that ensure we aren’t exposed to pathogens via our water supply nor our food. In 1854, John Snow famously conducted his Broad Street Pump study in London and demonstrated that cholera was water-bourne; however, it took decades for our public policy to catch up with our scientific knowledge.
A public health case study published by the NBCI describes the years that followed:
The first use of chlorine as a disinfectant for water facilities was in 1897 in England. The first use of this method for municipal water facilities in the United States was in Jersey City, New Jersey, and Chicago, Illinois, in 1915. Other cities followed and the use of chlorination as standard treatment for water disinfection rapidly grew. During the 20th century, death rates from waterborne diseases decreased significantly, and although other additional factors contributed to the general improvements in health (such as sanitation, improved quality of life, and nutrition), the improvement of water quality was, without doubt, a major reason.
Forty-three years passed from the initial demonstration that pathogens were being spread via water, and public action and regulation to halt disease.
Can you imagine, in the 1890s, being somebody who argued against cleaning the water?
Can you imagine, in those years of plentiful cholera, calling the people who demanded shit-free water “hold outs”?
One thing COVID realists are accused of is being “doomsayers” and “fearmongers,” so let me share a dose of optimism about the future with you. When we choose- whenever we choose- to get COVID under control, there’s an exciting new world awaiting us. One, not only without constant COVID reinfection, but where our kids can grow up free of colds, flus, RSV, and many other common bugs. And no, contrary to what you may have heard, staying healthy (shockingly enough) is not bad for children!
Once we choose to institute ventilation standards and introduce new technologies like Far UVC lighting- and embrace masking as an easy, kind, and useful tool to control outbreaks- we can bring every nasty airborne pathogen under control the way we did cholera. We didn’t have the science before; now we do. (I mean that quite literally; I can’t recommend enough the linked Wired article cataloguing the long journey to establishing that Covid is, indeed, airborne).
We face a stark choice; down one road, the one with zero infrastructure upgrades, no air quality regulations, and Covid safety only for those who can afford it, you and your family will get Covid this year. You will get Covid next year. You will continue to get Covid over and over and over again, as the health problems - like cardiac damage, viral persistance, and immune system dysfunction- continue to build up. (The billionaires, of course, will not).
Down the other road, we quite simply treat ourselves the way Davos would. We engage with what the science is telling us and we build a safer, better world for our kids. We embrace the lessons this pandemic is teaching us, and let go of things we now know are harming people. We stop clinging desperately to the idea that 2019 will come back if we just get the virus one more time, and we come together to achieve what we’ve been told is impossible: elimination.
The economic elite thrive on our divisiveness and blame casting. They don’t mind that we’re calling each other names, engaging in racial stereotyping, or leaving disabled people to die, so long as we keep their machine running. But we can choose to stop throwing blame at each other, and direct it where it belongs: at the powerful people who’ve left us to suffer, at the politicians who are whipping people into a frenzy over masks instead of over our millions of dead, at the talking heads on TV that work so hard to convince us: you want to get sick. It’s better than being a *weirdo* or a *hold out*.
We needn’t wait 43 years to redirect our energies. France and Belgium have already introduced new air quality standards, and DIY projects to build Corsi-Rosenthal boxes for schools and healthcare settings have popped up around the country. We have the science, we have the technology. All we need now is the political will and the solidarity to truly end the pandemic- the kind of solidarity the super rich always show with one another.
The billionaires at Davos don’t accept continual Covid reinfection. They demand better. It’s time we demand better too.
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momotonescreaming · 2 months
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STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night
“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker. 
“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.” 
A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker. 
“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted. 
He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend. 
Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest. 
“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.” 
“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light. 
“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up. 
Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar. 
“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.” 
“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.” 
“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.” 
“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.” 
“Not hard,” Jeff laughs. 
“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”
By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. 
“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer. 
“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”
“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him. 
[Part Two]
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femmefatalevibe · 1 year
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Femme Fatale Guide: Habits To Become Your Best Self In 2023
Some habits, routine ideas, and mindset shifts to help make 2023 your best year yet. Hope this helps and inspires you to reach your goals for the next 12 months. Remember to work hard and take care of yourself. Once you put your mind to it, the sky is the limit! xx
Make Your Meals Plant-Based & Produce-Focused: Center your meals around a variety of vegetables, fruits, plant proteins, potatoes, and unprocessed plant-based fats (avocado, nuts, seeds) and minimal whole grains.
Get Creative With Stress Eating Substitutions: Discover healthy swaps for your meals and snacks to ensure what you're eating without sacrificing your goals. Some simple substitutes include mixing in cauliflower rice into your whole grain rice to add nutrients/volume while slashing the calories, using half an avocado with lemon as a salad dressing over spoonfuls of olive oil, swapping meat for lentils in a chill, soups, or stir fry, choosing frozen grapes or whipped bananas with berries over candy or ice cream for a sweet treat, etc. Remember: Spices and seasoning are your best friends.
Be Mindful of Your Beverage Consumption: Consuming enough water is essential. However, if you get bored with water, add some herbal and black tea, black coffee, or fruit-filled water into the mix. Cinnamon, vanilla, and apple or peach teas are great options to satisfy cravings and prevent mindless snacking (not a substitute for food – eat if you're genuinely hungry). For the winter season, try using some pure cocoa powder with hot water, vanilla extract, and a tablespoon or two of plant-based milk for a healthy hot cocoa drink.
Prioritize Long Walks: Carve out 1-2 hours of your day to get 10-12K steps in at least 5 days a week. Go outside if possible or jump on a treadmill/walking pad to get in some movement while watching TV, talking on the phone, or catching up on some emails.
Find A Simple Resistance Workout You Love: Yoga, pilates, or an at-home weight-training or body-weight exercise you can do at home. Browse different YouTube videos for 10-30 minute workouts to try or sign up for a class in your local area to make it a more social experience (and force yourself to take accountability to show up in the first place).
Create Short & Long "Bookend" Routines: Create a simple routine for the beginning and end of the task-filled portion of your day. For most of us, these routines would be done in the morning and evening/at night before and after work, school, or doing chores/errands. Let go of the rigid idea that these routines need to be done at certain times of the day. Set yourself up to win and tailor them to your schedule. Consider these short routines (like drinking a cup of coffee/tea, reading, meditation, journaling, a walk, or a short dancing session) your warm-up and cool-down sessions of the day. Having these rituals to look forward to will give you the energy and motivation to do what you need to get done each day.
Practice This 10-10-10 Mindfulness Practice: Make time for at least 10 pages of reading, 10 minutes of meditation, and 10 minutes of journaling daily (This can include shadow work) either in the morning or nighttime to clear and reset your mindset for the day.
Take An Hour To Plan Out Your Week: It's most convenient to do this power hour on a weekend (I typically reserve an hour before dinner on Sunday for weekly planning). Write out all of your main work tasks, schedule any due date reminders (for work, bills, chores, and other life necessities), must-do errands, emails and calls or appointments to make, etc.). I like using the Productivity Planner from Intelligent Change and my Reminders app/Google calendar via iCloud to sync deadlines and times to schedule messages/tasks/bills, so everything will be in front of me at the correct time throughout the week.
Prioritize 1-3 Tasks Daily: You might need to choose one large project to work on in small chunks or select a "Big 3" for the day, depending on how complex, lengthy, and time-consuming your projects/errands or appointments are for the day. Using this method allows you to be efficient, streamline your life, and feel productive without overwhelming yourself on the regular (the fastest route to burnout).
Make A Life Admin Schedule (and Stick To It): Choose days (and times if possible) of the week to update certain spreadsheets, batch reply to less urgent messages, clean your house, do laundry, grocery shop, etc. Scheduling these tasks ahead of time eliminates half of the battle for following through on what you need to do. Eventually, you will make these tasks into habitual routines that your brain will allow you to execute effortlessly as though you're in autopilot mode.
Mind Your "Circle of Influence": Do an intake on the 5-10 people you speak to the most or value in your life. If you're an employee, it is probably best to not include your boss or coworkers in this consideration list, as you need to work amicably with them regardless of your personal feelings. Look how you feel during your interactions with your friends, family, intimate partner, or an adjacent love interest. Consider how they speak to you, about themselves, and the topics your conversations are focused around. See if they align with the person you want to be and your goals. Evaluate how close you want to be and what parts of your life you think would be the most beneficial for you and the relationship going into 2023.
Set Boundaries: Understand your expectations, non-negotiables, and limits in every area of your life. Communicate these principles to others clearly, so they know when they are overstepping. Don't tolerate disrespect, but also don't expect others to be mind-readers. If someone knows that they're crossing your boundaries, it is easy to draw the line in the sand and walk away without the guilt or shame that can arise when conflicts originate from a lack of healthy communication.
Incorporate One Creative Practice Into Your Week: Reinvigorate your mind by engaging in at least one hour of creative activity per week. Try drawing, creative writing, poetry, singing, dancing, painting, pottery, jewelry making, graphic design, photography, etc. Even taking a foreign language course or creating a Pinterest inspiration/mood board or organizing your home/closets in an aesthetically-pleasing way counts. Figure out what creative outlet(s) you find satisfying. Prioritize scheduling this practice into your schedule weekly.
Refine Your Signature Look: Edit your wardrobe, try out a new haircut, or change up your makeup routine, nail color, or signature scent. Consider how you can close any gaps between your authentic personal style and how you present yourself on a day-to-day basis. Create an inspiration board if needed to help yourself define your unique aesthetic and gradually work towards embodying your ideal look.
Keep A "Praise" Archive: Create a record of all of the messages you receive highlighting your achievements, milestones, recognitions, or compliments. Compile a folder that acts as your "praise" archive for every area of your life. Create a folder in your work email inbox to save all of your professional achievements, praise, and positive contributions. Do the same for your personal email. Create a folder in your photo album of screenshotted texts. Keep a running list on your "Notes" app of any compliments you receive on your conversational contributions, actions, attire, personality, smile, etc. Hyping yourself up to connect to your highest self.
Create A "Siren" Kit: Take note of all of the clothing, scents, songs, cosmetics, phrases, people, and other aspects of your environment that empower you to feel your sexiest. Keep all of these items/songs/texts together to make it simple to set the mood before engaging in some indulgent action or revisit when you need a boost of confidence throughout your week.
Do A Financial Audit: Create an income/expenses spreadsheet to understand your current spending behavior and budgeting plan going forward. Set up your 2023 financial goals and projections, including target amounts for income, savings, and investments.
Give Yourself A Weekly "Treat": Find a healthy indulgence that you can strategically incorporate into your week. This "treat" can be a massage or nail appointment, permission to watch a movie or a couple episodes of a TV show, a serving of your favorite dessert or a glass of wine, etc. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Consider regular indulgence as an act of self-care not as a sign of weakness or self-destruction. Embracing pleasure does not require guilt or external permission.
Happy New Year, loves! Cheers to an abundant 2023 xx
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cupid-styles · 2 months
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the yoga class (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)
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in which y/n has to lead a yoga class for the hockey team, and harry doesn't miss out on making fun of her (but maybe he needs her help, too).
I actually love this blurb and I hope you guys enjoy it too :))
word count: 1.8k
content warnings: none really! y/n and harry both being stubborn little shits but minor strides made by the end :)
hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist
main masterlist | talk to me
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. . .
When Mrs. Lei asked Y/N if she would mind instructing an entry level yoga class this evening, she neglected to mention that it was for the hockey team.
What she had said implied something along the lines of, “You’re one of my star students and always go above and beyond, and I know I can sucker you into doing nearly anything because you’re an incredibly disciplined dancer with the inability to say no.”
So, naturally, even though it felt like every single tiny muscle in Y/N’s body was aching from practicing grand and tour jetés (Mrs. Lei was ruthless about them), she said she’d do it. Because she’s a sucker without a backbone, and getting placed as a frontline dancer or receiving a glowing recommendation from Mrs. Lei somewhere down the line was more than enough of a reason for her to teach some measly 45-minute yoga class at the end of the day.
She assumes it’s some type of volunteer work, an open call to students across campus. There was a fairly large performing arts sector and, like any other university, a decent amount of sports teams, so Y/N assumed there would at least be a class of 10 or so. Mrs. Lei sets her up with a basket of yoga mats from the gym and some simple instructions of, “it’s meant to be a stretch-heavy, restorative flow, so don’t go too hard on them.”
Easy enough, right?
But Y/N’s stomach slowly begins to churn when 6 pm comes around and the only people filtering in are big, burly men that she feels like she’s only seen in layers upon layers of protective equipment. Y/N isn’t short, nor is she a particularly small person — her abilities as a dancer have been questioned time and time again because of this — so she doesn’t feel intimidated by them, considering she knows she could go toe-to-toe with them in a smattering of physical activities. Running wasn’t her strong suit, but a decent amount of cardio was required to maintain the appearance of keeping it together during longer performances, while the muscles of her arms, back, and legs were chiseled from years of nearly daily practice. 
But when Harry walks in, she assumes this is some kind of prank. Mrs. Lei would never be put up to something like that (she’s a woman with decorum), but maybe the hockey team somehow caught wind of the class and wanted to torture her, just like Harry’s been doing for the past three years. 
She stomps over to him the second he crosses the entryway, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back outside.
“No,” she says immediately, dropping his arm like it’s poisonous, “Get out.”
“What?”
“Get out.” she repeats through gritted teeth. “This isn’t funny. You can’t fuck with me when I’m doing something like this.”
Harry’s eyebrows furrow and he seems to look genuinely confused. It’s only then that he cocks his head to the side, a smirk threatening to curl at the edges of his lips. “Cinderella, did no one tell you who this class is for?”
She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. Y/N doesn’t like being taken by surprise, let alone other people knowing she’s out of the loop.
Harry damn near chortles in response as the smirk grows into a wicked grin. “Oh, sweetheart. You signed up to teach the hockey team yoga.”
Once Harry gets his boyish laughter out of the way, Y/N makes quick work of changing the rundown of the class. She moves her yoga mat all the way to the back in fear of having 15 hockey players stare at her ass the entire time, instructing them to watch her in the mirror or raise their hand if they need help getting into a certain position. She lowers the lights and puts some soothing music on to tune out any teasing laughter, but it already seems like they’re taking it seriously based on the way most of them are already in cross-legged positions, allowing their eyes to fall closed. It eases Y/N’s nerves some, until she looks over at Harry, who’s sitting there with his legs straight out like a toddler, a goofy smile on his lips.
With a roll of her eyes, she begins the class.
. . .
“This one might be a little tough so let me know if you need some help, but we’re gonna shift into a reclined pigeon pose now,” Y/N instructs, “With your back flat against the mat, bend your knees. Good. Now, with one knee still bent, we’re going to create a figure 4 by crossing the right ankle over the top of the left knee.”
She gives them some time to process, standing from her own mat to ensure no one’s desperately flopping around. 
“Great,” she praises, “This is excellent for opening your hip flexors, thighs, and chest. Make sure you’re breathing into the pose.”
She hears a chorus of deep exhales and it makes her smile. Not only is she glad that they’re actually taking it seriously (there’s a possibility she judged them all a bit too hard), but there’s something about having some sort of power over the team that strokes her ego, too. 
She weaves in and out between the mats, continuing to encourage them to breathe and stretch deeper. When she passes by Harry, who’s doing the pose a bit wrong, she resists the urge to simply kick him. 
Instead she quietly gets down on her knees, “Do you need help adjusting?”
Harry’s eyes flicker open. Instantly, he has a scowl on his face. So much for relaxation. “Why?”
“Your ankle bone should be pressing into your thigh,” she whispers, pointing to where his ankle is just barely grazing the edge of his leg, “If you deepen the pose, it’ll help with any stress you’re feeling in your hips and thighs.”
He huffs, clearly contemplating her offer, before rolling his eyes and mumbling out, “sure.”
She wants to tell him that touching him certainly isn’t at the top of her to-do list today, but she doesn’t want to disrupt the rest of the class. With her knees pressing into the surface of his yoga mat, she sits in front of him, gently grasping his right calf and shifting it to the side. 
“What the fuck, Cinderella?!” he whisper-yells, nails clawing into the thick foam he’s laying on. Y/N shushes him and sends an irritated glare his way. “That hurts!”
“Probably because your hips are tight as fuck.” she mutters. “How do you walk around like this all day?”
“I don’t know, you try being a goalie—”
“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers under her breath. She hates that argument, where people automatically assume that ballet is some pretty artform that requires minimal effort. It was gorgeous, but the amount of painful injuries Y/N’s sustained from the sport would send Harry into a tizzy. 
It’s clear that he’s not bending any deeper into the pose so Y/N stands up, deciding to finish up the class instead of focusing all of her attention on Harry and his fucked up hips. She keeps them on the floor for the remainder of their time, having them do light twists and stretches, finally closing out class with some positive self-affirmations. When 6:45 pm ticks by, she slowly turns on the lights and stands by the door. They’re all very polite, thanking her graciously for spending her evening with them. It’s almost enough to make her feel pure happiness until Harry, the last to leave, stops in front of her. 
“What?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 
“Can you shut the door?” 
Y/N squints her eyes at him. “No?”
“I have a question and I don’t want anyone to hear it.”
“I swear to god, if you ask me to jerk you off or something, I will punch you so hard in the dick—”
“Oh, shut up,” Harry mutters, “That’s why puck bunnies exist, asshole.”
Y/N’s stomach tightens, though she’s not exactly sure why. Every sports team had some form of groupies with “puck bunnies” being the name of the ones for the hockey team. It seemed somewhat derogatory to her, but it didn’t seem like the girls held much of an issue with it.
“Sounds gross.” she finally replies, her face twisting into an expression of disgust. 
“Well it’s not like we all share them, the girls have their biases—”
“Is this what you wanted to ask me about?”
Harry’s eyes dart to the door and she sighs, closing it gently. Annoyed, she motions for him to say whatever it is he needs to say.
“Goalies have to wear, like, a shit ton of stuff on the ice and I hardly ever stretch after a game—”
“That’s awful for you, Harry.”
He shoots her an angry look. 
“So, yeah, my hips are fucked. And they hurt really fucking bad.”
“Start stretching after games, then?” Y/N replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Yeah… that’s kind of the idea,” he says slowly, “Do you have, like… other… yoga poses that you know of? That would be good for that type of thing?”
Y/N thinks for a moment. It’s something she has to do before and after performances or practices, too, since a number of moves and jumps rely on the joint movement in her hips. From an athlete-to-athlete standpoint, she gets it. In fact, she almost pities him, because the pain must be awful.
“Yes,” she eventually says with a nod. “There’s a lot. If it helps, I can put together a little guide for you and text it to you.”
Harry raises his eyebrows. “Really? You would do that?”
She shrugs. “You must be hurting badly to ask for my help.”
He scoffs, digging into the pocket of his athletic shorts for his phone. He pulls it out, bringing up his contact page. “You have no idea.”
She hums as she quickly types her number in. For the contact name, she always puts emojis in so people don’t forget who she is. She settles on Y/N🌷🩰🍒. When she hands it back to him, he snorts. 
“What?” 
“Those emojis definitely aren’t staying.” he replies with a roll of his eyes. 
“Why?” she asks with a slightly pouty bottom lip. 
“Because emojis are childish and I don’t put them next to anyone’s name?” 
She balks at his criticism as she slides her shoes on. 
“That’s mean. I put emojis next to everyone’s name on my phone.”
Harry snorts, “Yeah? What are you gonna put next to mine, then?”
It doesn’t take her more than a second to decide: “The devil horns, probably.”
He cackles as he opens the door to the studio with a shake of his head. 
“Wouldn’t want it any other way, princess,” he calls out as he walks down the hallway. 
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