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jojosbizzarewife · 10 months

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Imagine tying them up when they've been bratty

Taking your time as punishment, teasing touches as you tie them up

Don't forget the blindfold

Kissing and licking along their neck down to their thighs until their legs are trembling and their eyes start watering

Begging -

Please just touch me baby I'm sorry I'll be good pleasebabyplease

Imagine their whines as you leave them tied up in the room, promising to be back from the store soon

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Will Zeppeli, Joseph, Esidisi, Polnareff, Josuke, Rohan, Fugo, Narancia, Melone, Illuso, Anasui, Rikiel, Gyro, Diego, JOBIN, mamezuku

#jojo #part 1-9 #jojo imagines #jjba imagines #jojo brainrot #if anyone knows how tags work #please teach me #im just posting things now #just typing #because i can

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kura-tsuki · 1 year

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Black dragon arc...

"Mikey-kun...... Wait, what about Yuu-san? Did she-"

"No, she lived. Yuuchin was smart enough to left me that night..."

.

"She HATES me, Takemichy. After what I did to everyone in Toman, she'll never forgive me..."

.

"I have a daughter"

"I found out when I spotted Yuuchin on the TV, she was saving her daughter and the other kids from the traffickers. *heh* She was a Hero was it?"

.

"If I ever have the chance to see them...... I would like to know what our daughter's name be......"

#don't mind me #just typing #Some dialog I think

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threeaxoltlsinacoat · 1 year

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Is it normal to crave reality to be even a little more like fantasy? Does it even matter if it is normal? I crave it desperately. I want to find a family on the road and travel together getting into chaos and into danger that I could bounce back from near death with just a common potion. Not knowing what is around the corner is alluring but here in reality it feels too mapped out, I can’t change my daily routines in fear of not having enough money to eat.

#adventure #aaahhhh #in my feels #just typing

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lesbianralzarek · 3 months

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"life doesnt get better, you just get stronger" does NOT include ages 11-17. life does in fact just get better from there. those years are dogshit. like, you do get stronger but its mostly just a factor of not being 11-17 anymore. positive thinking helps but it doesnt fix whatevers going on at 15, you have to brute force through that one raw

#i originally posted this as just a 'hey remember how fuckin bad middle/highschool was? shit was wild' type post but now #there are a bunch of teens in the notes being like 'oh my god are you serious? it gets better? im not stuck in hell forever??'#and im reminded that the only people who told teenage ella 'it gets better' were speakers at mental health assemblies #aka the least relatable people alive who were seemingly born to lie to you #so. uh. yeah im a certified adult who isnt here to lie or sugarcoat the realities of being a teenager #the only thing more certain than the pain is the transcience

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bardofavon · 1 month

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not to be controversial bc I know this is like…not in line with shifting opinions on fanfic comment culture but if there’s a glaring typo in my work I will NOT be offended by pointing it out. if ao3 fucks up the formatting…I will also not be offended by having this pointed out…

‘looking forward to the next update’ and ‘I hope you update soon!’ are different vibes than a demand, and should be read in good faith because a reader is finding their way to tell you how much they love it. I will not be mad at this.

‘I don’t usually like this ship but this fic made me feel something’ is also incredibly high praise. I’m not going to get mad at this.

even ‘I love this fic but I’m curious about why you made [x] choice’ is just another way a reader is engaging in and putting thought into your work.

I just feel like a lot of authors take any comment that’s not perfectly articulated glowing praise in the exact manner they’re hoping to receive it in bad faith.

fic engagement has been dropping across the board over the last several years, and yes it’s frustrating but it isn’t as though I can’t see how it happens. comment anxiety can be a real thing. the last thing anyone wants to do is offend an author they love, and that means sometimes people default to silence.

idk where I’m going with this I guess aside from saying unless a comment is outright attacking me I’m never going to get mad at it, and I think a lot of authors should feel the same way. ESPECIALLY TYPOS PLZ GOD POINT OUT MY TYPOS.

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #tbh even if I got a comment that said ‘I hate you I’m going to kill your family’ on chapter 75 it still means they read 75 chapters first….#it just makes me sad to see so many writers shouting into the void #and also see ppl complain openly about the specific types of comments they receive #posting screenshots on Reddit like ‘should I be mad at this’ CALM DOWN #sigh

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socksandcrocs · 3 months

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Charlie would definitely make her dad participate in the hotel exercises lmao

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #lucifer morningstar #radioapple #i just think they would have a cute little thing yknow #enemies to lovers type beat #yknow?

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hattersarts · 8 months

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im already at the south downs cottage guys, catch up

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #they're nb in the flavour of being lesbian gay men bc its such a lesbian move to pine for someone for a few thousands years #and literally not make a move #PLUS u know when they have sex it takes like 9hrs and if you wrote what they did down on paper it really wouldnt look like much #but they still had to take intensity breaks bc they kept getting overwhelmed and then just making out for an hour #thank u for coming to my ted talk #high amounts of gender of all types happening all the time with these two

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canisalbus · 1 month

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Feeling compelled to take a moment to document this saddest looking little dog I saw today.

#I'm sure the dog was fine some of them just inherently look like victorian street urchins #it had such big wet humanlike eyes #own art #could've been a chihuahua cross of some kind #no neck stick legs bread loaf torso type of creature #dog sightings

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whaterverness · 5 months

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It feels like body horror when you never moved on from a certain age. To have not progressed in life since then and to not feel any different. To know you’ve blinked out the years you were most excited for but feel like they haven’t happened yet. You’re still waiting for them to happen. You’ve matured and expect life to catch up with you to present to you all those experiences, but instead they’re left nonexistent to a point in life you can never go back to. I don’t regret missing out on things or having different experiences than other people, but it’s a bit odd when you look back and a decade of your life doesn’t exist. There was nothing that caused this like sickness or other powers outside of your control. You just didn’t do anything and nothing happened to you. I feel like life has not happened for me since I was 14, and if I wanted to return to the time I first felt like things weren’t happening, I would even say 9. The life I’ve experienced doesn’t feel real as nothing’s really happened. Nothing happened. Nothing’s happening. It’s just not. It feels like I’m waiting to wake up and life will continue. But, there’s nothing to wait for. I’m 25 and life I planned for is gone and all my plans never received the smallest bit of interaction. There’s plenty of life left some say, but that decade will always make it feel like I’m waiting. And it feels like a horror. I’ve trapped myself in my own hell. This was the thing that scratched in the back of my mind growing up that my instincts told me to avoid. I somehow knew I would do this to myself and my instincts told me to avoid it at all costs. And I would’ve if I had acted on all the things I’d ever wanted to do, but I don’t think I ever perceived that I was allowed to do any of it. I was not allowed to do anything that I liked because these are not things that people do. I must find things that people do and be the least strange in doing them, and maybe I can live and do my duty in life. I wanted to sacrifice everything I ever wanted to do, but there was nothing to make this sacrifice for that I believed in. So I sacrificed everything I enjoyed for nothing. I needed to sacrifice, but if there’s nothing to do that for, and I allowed to indulge? Oh, I don’t know how to engage in what I love in life anymore. And I don’t even know how to care about them anymore to get good enough at them to make anything out of them anymore. What am I going to do? And why am I going to do it? Will I find a reason other than the ones I’ve already given up on? No. I don’t think I will. I still have a fervent want to do these things, but I have so little belief in them that these two beings become at odds with one another, and they leave me in a standstill. I want to exist. I want to exist. I will never want to stop existing with a carnal desire to give my existence up wholly unto something. The existence of the internet and my addiction to it since childhood is a curse even though it simultaneously brought me the knowledge of interests that if acted on would lend me the ability to use like a tool to bring me out. Just so long as I follow my desire to do so. I somehow must ignore everything. I need to focus. But how dare I do that? How dare I not spread myself thin for things I never cared about that people scream in my face for? Forcing my attention. Forcing my compassion. Never letting me have a peaceful moment in my life the moment I decided to listen to these people that tell me to care about such distant and diversely unrelated things with a level of insincerity that I could never imagine. They do not let you live until you kill yourself for these things, and yet tell YOU to do them while they continue yelling. I dreamed of helping these causes as a kid and was surprised when there weren’t things in place to actually help them. I was told by authority that this was an issue that needed to be acted on, so why is the authority not acting on it alongside us? And why is no one actually doing it? Why are there people dying in the streets? Does no one believe in anything anymore?

Is there one one besides the minority of people who are the most hidden and unseen bc they are the people actually doing the work and not the ones making the fuss? I’m tired of the ones who do nothing but make the fuss fueled by insincerity. I’m tired of the fuss and the fear-mongering. Let me just help people. Let’s all just help people. Let’s just do what needs to be done, and let’s do it with morality at the forefront of our concern. Let’s keep our principles, let’s keep our honor, let’s keep our integrity, let’s keep our humanity and our compassion and our respect for our fellow man, let’s keep the things that will make us proud to be who we are a century after we’re dead, and let us to be willing to bleed and suffer while doing it for no other reward than that. Why are we throwing everything away? Why do we not value these things? We’ve become worse for giving these things up, not better. No matter how many smaller advances we may be making on the small front, we’re overall losing this war for our souls, and we’re damning ourselves, this existence, and everyone in it.

I want to do. I want to act. I need to act, but I don’t know how to get myself to. I just want to do. I want people to stop telling me to think too much about things, to stop telling me to feel too much about everything in existence who will never stop guilt-tripping me. I just want to do. Leave me in peace. Let me find me and my life and let me work. Let me do my work. Let me find peace in my work and in what I do, and then let me help. Let me do this which I have never known or have allowed myself to do, so that I might find love and let it become abundant in my life, so that I may share it with others beyond what I would ever be capable of now. Let me love. Let me live. Please God let me live. Save me. Let me of some worth in this life through my work.

#just typing #this was meant to be a rant not a prayer #but it always becomes a prayer filled with desperation #I do not survive in stagnation #I am a being that must act but has surpressed it all my life #so now I feel sick when I feel like I must do something and it’s all consuming #my conscious and my knowledge that I am able and I am capable #inaction feels like self-murder #you are leaving yourself to die and are neglecting yourself in as damaging a way as a parent neglects their child #the child will never forget #you will never forget what you’ve done to yourself #how dare anything to tell me to sit and wait when I must work and I have work that needs to be done #how dare people tell me to rest #how dare people tell me that I have time #how dare people tell me to leave things incomplete or with inadequate results #how dare I even deign to die without having done my work #how dare I though most of all not even go after it

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1alchemistart · 2 months

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dont got much to offer for The Holiday but have these sillies!

happy valentines day :D

#sxf #spy x family #damianya #damian desmond #anya forger #my art #i am sleepy rn im scheduling this ahead of time like several hours ahead JKSDFKLS #unrelated to sxf. the tags are my speaking place shush #was not expecting the toby fox newsletter to have so much for me to think about JKKLDFSS #good ole gaster sending us love letters (we don't KNOW it's gaster but like. typing pattern + him being the only character to be like)#(directly referring to the game as deltarune)#ALSO THE WEATHERMEN HAVE NAMES NOW ?!?!? AND ARE IN LOVE ???!?!#so happy for them fr #i didnt get the mettaton card but like just know. that is my essence. all those blingee-core sparkles. those picmix hearts. me #anyway YIPPEE WAHOO

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necromanticlifecleric · 6 months

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I lay here and stare into the abyss that is my ceiling until daylight intrudes through the edge of the blinds.

I thought I'd be happy. Excited, to hear the words. Instead, annoyance claims the moments. Tagging in rage when they get too worn out of from the constant 9 to 5.

I built boundaries. Gifted explanations that I owed no one. You took them respectfully and used them to make an outfit of understanding and acceptance, only to still remain the wolf.

Even now it doesn't feel right to call you that but that outfit was beautiful. Crafted with skilled hands and a thoughtful mind. Did you plan each piece? Make a note of how it clashed or blended with the others? You forged something that at a glance was wondeful.

You were so close. The timing was wrong, though—the colours mismatched by a few hues in the creases and folds. The seams not overlocked nor double stitches. Holes formed in the weak points where the fabric of my words stretched and warped.

You saw me looking closely. The frayed edges creep and unravel before you with no rip stock in sight. I pulled each thread with every string of evidence. Each argument about what colour the material was when all you could do if tell me it was red when I handed you the proof it was pink.

Your work fell apart. In a panic, you bundled it away and lay yourself bare. Exposing another piece of art that you called your own. A direct contradiction that engulfed any shred of my boundaries, drowning the in the loud patterns.

I figured out a while ago you were grasping at the shredded remains of our connection. Your last message was bleach. It was like you'd attempted to styleise the remaining outfit like it wasn't the opposite of what I told you I wanted. Needed.

You did it anyway and made it unrecoverable, and yet I lay here trying to work out how I stitch it back with bleeding finger tips and narrowed eyes at the delicate work. Yet, I have no idea where to start. So I don't. Not with that outfit.

I take your tricks and tips. You gifted them to me unknowingly but I take them and I learn. I learn to spot the subtle hue changes, and where to take a light hand. Which spots to reinforce and embellish.

I don't make an outfit. I painstakingly sew it on to my skin and my body and make it part of me. I have to. I am a canvas of my past where holes have been patched, that were not cut by me. Stains have been made and covered in cute hand sewn flowers, that was not stained by me. Threadbare sections bolstered by an unknown reinforcement that was not worn thin by me.

Because, after it all, I have been forced to be a better seamstress than you.

#sad thoughts #sad poem #journal #thoughts #just typing #theraputic

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wuntrum · 2 months

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people without an internal monologue will never know the epic highs and lows of watching the same guy a lot in a short amount of time (youtuber/streamer/shows and movies etc) and then having your internal monologue sound like that guy for a bit

#personal #personally? all these words are in northernlion's voice rn. just the type of week ive haD

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bogan-mac · 1 month

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