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earn
earn
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wifes
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        clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 
: clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 

        

            
            

                
                
                    clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 
: clover11-10:

breezeinmonochromenight:

star-linedsoul:

razzleberryjam:

ironwoman359:

chaos-in-the-making:

smugkoalas:


allthefandomss:

that-catholic-shinobi:

gahdamnpunk:
American Girl stories were the best tbh

Dude, read the books, she and her mom freed themselves in Book 1. We don’t disrespect American Girl in this house 


Don’t you dare disrespect Addy, or any of my girls for that matter. American Girl used to be legit. Good stories, good dolls, good movies. 


Felicity’s story was set in the beginnings of the American Revolution, and addressed the conflict that she faced when her loved ones were split between patriots and loyalists. It also covered the effects of animal abuse, and forgiving those who are unforgivable. 
Samantha’s stories centered around the growth of industrial America, women’s suffrage, child abuse, and corruption in places of power. Also, it emphasises how dramatically adoption into a caring family can turn a life around. 
Kit’s story is one of my favorites. Her family is hit hard by the Great Depression, and they begin taking in boarders and raise chickens to help make ends meet. Her books include themes of poverty, police brutality, homelessness, prejudice, and the importance of unity in difficult times. 
Molly’s father, a doctor, is drafted during the Second World War. Throughout her story, friends of hers suffer the loss of their husbands, sons, and brothers overseas. Her mother leaves the traditional housewife position and works full-time to help with the war effort. They also take in an English refugee child, who learns to open up after a life of traumatic experience. 
American Girl stories have always featured the very harsh realities of America through the years. But they’re always presented honestly, yet in ways that kids can understand. They just go to show that you don’t have to live in a perfect time to be a real American girl. 


Dont you fucking dare disrespect the American Girls in my house. ESPECIALLY Addy!! That was my first REAL contact with the horrors of slavery, as I read about her father being whipped and sold and her mother escaping with her to freedom, but also how freedom was still a struggle.
A slave doll. Please. Read the books. 

Don’t forget Kirsten, the Swedish immigrant who had to deal with balancing her own culture and learning the english language and customs of her classmates, or Kaya (full name 

Kaya'aton'my, or She Who Arranges Rocks) , the brave but careless girl from the Nez Perce tribe, or Josefina, the Mexican girl learning to be a healer.
And then there are the later dolls, that kids younger than me would have grown up with (I was just outgrowing American Girl as these came out), like Rebecca, the Jewish girl who dreams of becoming an actress in the budding film industry, or 

Julie, who fights against her school’s gender policy surrounding sports in the 70s, or 

Nanea, the Hawaiian girl whose father worked at Pearl Harbor.
These books, these characters, are fantastic pictures into life for girls in America throughout the years, they pull no punches with the horrors that these girls had to face in their different time periods, and in many cases I learned more history from these series than social studies at school. And that’s without even mentioning the “girl of the year” series where characters are created in the modern world to help girls deal with issues like friend problems, moving, or bullying. We do NOT disrespect American Girl in this house.


American Girl is probably going to be the only exposure young girls are going to get to history from a female perspective. This is actually kind of important considering that in history classes we dont really get that exposure. We dont hear about what women felt and endured during these time periods cause schools are too busy teaching us about what happened from the male perspective, which is not unimportant, but we need both. Girls need both.



These books were such a crucial part of my childhood and shaped my love of history, which still ensures today. These books can be a young girl’s first  lessons in diversity and cultural awareness (hopefully burying that insensitive “we’re all Americans” tripe) and looking at history from more perspectives than just that taught in school. They also are an example of how women have ALWAYS been part of history, which some people would rather us not believe.
I think Kit and Kaya were the newest American Girls when I started “aging out” of the books, but hearing about some of these kinda makes me want to revisit them!

I wasn’t gonna say anything, but you know what? 
Nah.
OP (of the tweet thread) was either a actively trying to start shit or is just a huge fucking moron. Probably both.
I’d like to point out that the company that makes American Girl dolls actually doesn’t skimp when doing their research and they don’t make the dolls with the intent to be offensive in any way:





I loved American Girl growing up they’re great role models and history lessons so yeah let’s not cancel this for ignorant reasons 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        Mother’s Day: Mother’s Day
        

            
            

                
                
                    Mother’s Day: Mother’s Day
                    
                
            

            
                
                
Mother’s Day

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER
: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

        

            
            

                
                
                    cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER
: cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the golden age of piracy ended.
The first mermaid to get tattoos :)


“we didn’t know any better,” the crewman says, and swallows, presenting the chest to the captain. “what do we do now?”
“kill it,” the captain says, but the ice is melting in his eyes.
“we can’t,” the first mate says desperately, praying she won’t have to fight her captain on this. “we can’t. we - i won’t. we won’t.”
“i know.”
x
“daddy,” she says, floating in a tub of seawater in the hold, “daddy, la-la, la-la-la.”
her voice rings like bells. her accent is strange; her mouth isn’t made for human words. it mesmerises even the hardiest amongst them and she wasn’t even trying. the crew has taken to diving for shellfish near the shorelines for her; she loves them, splitting the shells apart with strength seen in no human toddler, slurping down the slimy molluscs inside and laughing, all plump brown cheeks and needle-sharp teeth. she sometimes splashes them for fun with her smooth, rubbery brown tail. even when they get soaked they laugh. they love her.
“daddy,” she calls again, and he can hear the worry in her voice. the storm rocking the ship is harsh and uncaring, and if they go down, she would be the only survivor.
“don’t worry,” he says, and goes over, sitting next to the tub. the first mate, leaning against the wall, pretends not to notice as he quietly begins to sing.
x
“father,” she says, one day, as she leans on the edge of the dock and the captain sits next to her, “why am I here?”
“your mother abandoned you,” he says, as he always has. “we found you adrift, and couldn’t bear to leave you there.”
she picks at the salt-soaked boards, uncertain. her hair is pulled back in a fluffy black puff, the white linen holding it slipping almost over one of her dark eyes. one of her first tattoos, a many-limbed kraken, curls over her right shoulder and down her arm, delicate tendrils wrapped around her calloused fingertips. “alright,” she says.
x
“why am I really here?” she asks the first mate, watching the sun set over the water in streaks of liquid metal that pooled in the troughs of the waves and glittered on the seafoam.
“we didn’t know any better,” the first mate says, staring into the water. “we didn’t know- we didn’t know anything. we didn’t understand why she fought so viciously to guard her treasure. we could not know she protected something a thousand times more precious than the purest gold.”
she wants to be furious, but she can’t. she already knew the answer, from reading the guilt in her father’s eyes and the empty space in her own history. and she can’t hate her family.
“it’s alright,” she says. “i do have a family, anyways. i don’t think i would have liked my other life near as much.”
x
her kraken grows, spreading its tendrils over her torso and arms. she grows too, too large to come on board the ship without being hauled up in a boat from the water. she sings when the storms come and swims before the ship to guide it to safety. she fights off more than one beast of the seas, and gathers a set of scars across her back that she bears with pride. “i don’t mind,” she says, when the captain fusses over her, “now i match all of you.”
the first time their ship is threatened, really threatened, is by another fleet. a friend turned enemy of the first mate. “we shouldn’t fight him,” she says, peering through the spyglass.
“why not?” the mermaid asks.
“he’ll win,” the first mate says.
the mermaid tips her head sideways. Her eyes, dark as the deep waters, gleam in the noon light. “are you sure?” she asks.
x
the enemy fleet surrenders after the flagship is sunk in the night, the anchor ripped off the ship and the planks torn off the hull. the surviving crew, wild-eyed and delirious, whimper and say a sea serpent came from the water and attacked them, say it was longer than the boat and crushed it in its coils. the first mate hears this and has to hide her laughter. the captain apologizes to his daughter for doubting her.
“don’t worry,” she says, with a bright laugh, “it was fun.”
x
the second time, they are pushed by a storm into a royal fleet. they can’t possibly fight them, and they don’t have the time to escape.
“let me up,” the mermaid urges, surfacing starboard and shouting to the crew. “bring me up, quickly, quickly.”
they lower the boat and she piles her sinous form into it, and uses her claws to help the crew pull her up. once on the deck she flops out of the boat and makes her way over to the bow. the crew tries to help but she’s so heavy they can barely lift parts of her.
she crawls up out in front of the rail and wraps her long webbed tail around the prow. the figurehead has served them well so far but they need more right now. she wraps herself around the figurehead and raises her body up into the wind takes a breath of the stinging salt air and sings.
the storm carries her voice on its front to the royal navy. they are enchanted, so stunned by her song that they drop the rigging ropes and let the tillers drift. the pirates sail through the center of the fleet, trailing the storm behind them, and by the time the fleet has managed to regain its senses they are buried in wind and rain and the pirates are gone.
x
she declines guns. instead she carries a harpoon and its launcher, and uses them to board enemy ships, hauling her massive form out of the water to coil on the deck and dispatch enemies with ruthless efficiency. her family is feared across all the sea.
x
“you know we are dying,” the captain says, looking down at her.
she floats next to the ship, so massive she could hold it in her arms. her eyes are wise.
“i know,” she says, “i can feel it coming.”
the first mate stands next to the captain. she never had a lover or a child, and neither did he, but to the mermaid they are her parents. she will always love her daughter. the tattoos are graven in dark swirls across the mermaid’s deep brown skin and the flesh of her tail, even spiraling onto the spiked webbing on her spine and face. her hair is still tied back, this time with a sail that could not be patched one last time. 
“we love you,” the first mate says simply, looking down. her own tightly coiled black hair falls in to her face; she shakes the locs out of the way and smiles through her tears. the captain pretends he isnt crying either.
“i love you too,” the mermaid says, and reached up to pull the ship down just a bit, just to hold them one last time.
“guard the ship,” the captain says. “you always have but you know they’re lost without you.”
“without you,” the mermaid corrects, with a shrug that makes waves. “what will we do?”
“i don’t know,” the captain says. “but you’ll help them, won’t you?”
“of course i will,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “i will always protect my family.”
x
the captain and the first mate are gone. the ship has a new captain, young and fearless - of the things she can afford to disregard. she fears and loves the ocean, as all captains do. she does not fear the royal fleet. and she does not fear the mermaid.
“you know, i heard stories about you when i was a little girl,” she says, trailing her fingers in the water next to the dock.
the mermaid stares at her with one eye the size of a dinner table. “is that so?” she hums, smirking with teeth sharper than the swords of the entire navy.
“they said you could sink an entire fleet and that you had skin tougher than dragon scales,” the new captain says, grinning right back at the monster who could eat her without a moment’s hesitation. “i always thought they were telling tall tales.”
“and now?”
“they were right,” the new captain says. “how did they ever befriend you?”
the mermaid smiles, fully this time, her dark eyes gleaming under the white linen sail. “they didn’t know any better.”

She protects her family.

Hi everybody! Guess what’s being posted on AO3 now at the following link!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22498384/chapters/53760817
That’s right! Here you go. I’ll be uploading it in some chunks, because I want to make sure I have everything I wanted edited cleanly finished, but follow the story there!




HEY GUYS GUESS WHATS BACK ON THE DASHBOARD AND BETTER THAN EVER

                    
                
            

            
                
                
cereusblue:
unnameablethings:


dragonsateyourtoast:

redporkpadthai:

dragonsateyourtoast:

otherwindow:

otherwindow:
This is how the g...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”
: bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”

        

            
            

                
                
                    bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”
: bisexualnoodle5:

airyairyaucontraire:

yay855:

residentevil-fandomhazard:

princesstigerbelle:
I love how he kisses the kitten towards the end 

All kittens are born feral, but you can see the exact moment ahead realized how good kisses are 💜💜💜

Mother cats will often groom their babies to calm them down and help them feel loved; by kissing this kitten, that man is establishing himself as a mother figure to it.
He’s literally saying “I’m gonna be your momma now” in a language it understands, and it responds with love.

Honestly it helps that he has a beard, I have a theory based on observation of cats with bearded persons that the feeling of stiff beard hair brushing the cat’s fur is sufficiently reminiscent of the feeling of Mother Cat’s rough tongue grooming a kitten’s fur that they are suckers for that business. 
Beardos, rub your face on a cat today and repeat back, please. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME DON’T TOUCH ME” *kiss* “oh that’s actually kinda nice”

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 
: stellarsteele:
Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))).
Prologue
            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned
out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me
creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him. 
            I am anxious for another romantic
experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but
this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up.
My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with
unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. 
Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly,
but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a
good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but
I’ve learned to work with what I have.
I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot
of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence
of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. 
I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck
with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my
mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in
college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together.
I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going
to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out
of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super
hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college
cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. 
I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take
this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need
right now. 
Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am
not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected…
Day 1
            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by
cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that
desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of
clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school. 
            After, I went for a run in my
neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social
distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules,
but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the
world goes to shit.
            I laid on my bed for a while and
ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that
since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell
asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big
part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them. 
            Next, I checked my school email and
discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I
have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor
will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.
            I checked my Instagram feed and
ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which
was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media
posts.
Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new
album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up
with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more
time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media;
get laid. 
This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but
sex does sound nice right now. 
            It sounds so nice that I grab
my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my
vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top
of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so
wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other
hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and
out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my
cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed
sheets. 
The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off.
Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man
since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my
bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except
for me. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    


    
	

        
	

    




                    

                

                

                    




    

        
        

            
            

              
            

        

        
        
        

            

            
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                                
                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Mother of viral meme star demands Rep. Steve King to stop using her son's image in campaign ad
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                                
                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Mother of child in viral meme sends Steve King cease-and-desist for using image in fundraising
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Penn Badgley Considers That Mother Of A 'You' Theory