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        lotrlocked:

weaselle:

There was an arrest across the street from my place in Oakland one day – three cop cars with a bullhorn and guns out – and before I could even get out the gate there were a couple people posted up and one of them was filming and another one was narrating in a calm but very loud voice, just
“HE IS COOPERATING! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS DOING WHAT HE IS TOLD TO DO! HE IS HOLDING STILL! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS NOT BEING THREATENING! HE HAS PUT HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS HEAD AS ASKED! HE IS NOT RESISTING!”
and that was something I hadn’t thought to do before. It certainly let the cops know what the narrative of eye witnesses was going to be. 
I especially liked “his hands are empty” because this statement would still be true and a witnessed reason the police should not become violent even if it turned out he had a weapon on his person somewhere.



I see people in NYC stop and record a lot. Even if they are just being nosey, that’s still witnesses if shit goes down. 
: lotrlocked:

weaselle:

There was an arrest across the street from my place in Oakland one day – three cop cars with a bullhorn and guns out – and before I could even get out the gate there were a couple people posted up and one of them was filming and another one was narrating in a calm but very loud voice, just
“HE IS COOPERATING! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS DOING WHAT HE IS TOLD TO DO! HE IS HOLDING STILL! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS NOT BEING THREATENING! HE HAS PUT HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS HEAD AS ASKED! HE IS NOT RESISTING!”
and that was something I hadn’t thought to do before. It certainly let the cops know what the narrative of eye witnesses was going to be. 
I especially liked “his hands are empty” because this statement would still be true and a witnessed reason the police should not become violent even if it turned out he had a weapon on his person somewhere.



I see people in NYC stop and record a lot. Even if they are just being nosey, that’s still witnesses if shit goes down. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    lotrlocked:

weaselle:

There was an arrest across the street from my place in Oakland one day – three cop cars with a bullhorn and guns out – and before I could even get out the gate there were a couple people posted up and one of them was filming and another one was narrating in a calm but very loud voice, just
“HE IS COOPERATING! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS DOING WHAT HE IS TOLD TO DO! HE IS HOLDING STILL! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS NOT BEING THREATENING! HE HAS PUT HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS HEAD AS ASKED! HE IS NOT RESISTING!”
and that was something I hadn’t thought to do before. It certainly let the cops know what the narrative of eye witnesses was going to be. 
I especially liked “his hands are empty” because this statement would still be true and a witnessed reason the police should not become violent even if it turned out he had a weapon on his person somewhere.



I see people in NYC stop and record a lot. Even if they are just being nosey, that’s still witnesses if shit goes down. 
: lotrlocked:

weaselle:

There was an arrest across the street from my place in Oakland one day – three cop cars with a bullhorn and guns out – and before I could even get out the gate there were a couple people posted up and one of them was filming and another one was narrating in a calm but very loud voice, just
“HE IS COOPERATING! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS DOING WHAT HE IS TOLD TO DO! HE IS HOLDING STILL! HIS HANDS ARE EMPTY! HE IS NOT BEING THREATENING! HE HAS PUT HIS HANDS BEHIND HIS HEAD AS ASKED! HE IS NOT RESISTING!”
and that was something I hadn’t thought to do before. It certainly let the cops know what the narrative of eye witnesses was going to be. 
I especially liked “his hands are empty” because this statement would still be true and a witnessed reason the police should not become violent even if it turned out he had a weapon on his person somewhere.



I see people in NYC stop and record a lot. Even if they are just being nosey, that’s still witnesses if shit goes down. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all know I love reinterpreting Marvel aliens I like so here are some notes on my design of her because I love coming up with alien physiology/biology:- I turned her warpaint into facial markings so that’s just her skin now- She got a lot of markings tbh because I want them- She’s got very fine scales as opposed to human like skin, cream colored scales are a lot finer and harder to see, you can’t really tell unless you’re looking VERY closely (which means soft tummy huehuehue) skin texture’s similar to a snake in terms of feel but the scales are fairly tough, especially the closer you get to the spine.- Back spines can raise and lower like hackles but can also be ‘locked’ down when she needs to wear something (tho they’ll flare up when any feelings are at level 100)- Shiny blue iridescence that’s primarily confined to the darkest blue scales- “White” scales are really just blue reflecting the light so she has that shimmery night sky look because hello somebody- Light blue lines are for regulating body temperature- particularly for cooling. Skin is very thin there with blood vessels being close to the surface (hence why they’re blue bc her blood is a light blue color) to let off heat. The vents can expand and contract based on whether she needs to hold or release body heat. (She’s been described in canon to have a really low body temperature, actually feeling cold to the touch so she’s constantly venting heat through cooling her blood.) They’re also very sensitive ofc, important information.- Sharp nails - Also sharp teeth because I must remain on brand- And ofc she’s buff as hell


HNNNNNNNNN BUFF ❤️❤️❤️❤️: takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all know I love reinterpreting Marvel aliens I like so here are some notes on my design of her because I love coming up with alien physiology/biology:- I turned her warpaint into facial markings so that’s just her skin now- She got a lot of markings tbh because I want them- She’s got very fine scales as opposed to human like skin, cream colored scales are a lot finer and harder to see, you can’t really tell unless you’re looking VERY closely (which means soft tummy huehuehue) skin texture’s similar to a snake in terms of feel but the scales are fairly tough, especially the closer you get to the spine.- Back spines can raise and lower like hackles but can also be ‘locked’ down when she needs to wear something (tho they’ll flare up when any feelings are at level 100)- Shiny blue iridescence that’s primarily confined to the darkest blue scales- “White” scales are really just blue reflecting the light so she has that shimmery night sky look because hello somebody- Light blue lines are for regulating body temperature- particularly for cooling. Skin is very thin there with blood vessels being close to the surface (hence why they’re blue bc her blood is a light blue color) to let off heat. The vents can expand and contract based on whether she needs to hold or release body heat. (She’s been described in canon to have a really low body temperature, actually feeling cold to the touch so she’s constantly venting heat through cooling her blood.) They’re also very sensitive ofc, important information.- Sharp nails - Also sharp teeth because I must remain on brand- And ofc she’s buff as hell


HNNNNNNNNN BUFF ❤️❤️❤️❤️
        

            
            

                
                
                    takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all know I love reinterpreting Marvel aliens I like so here are some notes on my design of her because I love coming up with alien physiology/biology:- I turned her warpaint into facial markings so that’s just her skin now- She got a lot of markings tbh because I want them- She’s got very fine scales as opposed to human like skin, cream colored scales are a lot finer and harder to see, you can’t really tell unless you’re looking VERY closely (which means soft tummy huehuehue) skin texture’s similar to a snake in terms of feel but the scales are fairly tough, especially the closer you get to the spine.- Back spines can raise and lower like hackles but can also be ‘locked’ down when she needs to wear something (tho they’ll flare up when any feelings are at level 100)- Shiny blue iridescence that’s primarily confined to the darkest blue scales- “White” scales are really just blue reflecting the light so she has that shimmery night sky look because hello somebody- Light blue lines are for regulating body temperature- particularly for cooling. Skin is very thin there with blood vessels being close to the surface (hence why they’re blue bc her blood is a light blue color) to let off heat. The vents can expand and contract based on whether she needs to hold or release body heat. (She’s been described in canon to have a really low body temperature, actually feeling cold to the touch so she’s constantly venting heat through cooling her blood.) They’re also very sensitive ofc, important information.- Sharp nails - Also sharp teeth because I must remain on brand- And ofc she’s buff as hell


HNNNNNNNNN BUFF ❤️❤️❤️❤️: takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all know I love reinterpreting Marvel aliens I like so here are some notes on my design of her because I love coming up with alien physiology/biology:- I turned her warpaint into facial markings so that’s just her skin now- She got a lot of markings tbh because I want them- She’s got very fine scales as opposed to human like skin, cream colored scales are a lot finer and harder to see, you can’t really tell unless you’re looking VERY closely (which means soft tummy huehuehue) skin texture’s similar to a snake in terms of feel but the scales are fairly tough, especially the closer you get to the spine.- Back spines can raise and lower like hackles but can also be ‘locked’ down when she needs to wear something (tho they’ll flare up when any feelings are at level 100)- Shiny blue iridescence that’s primarily confined to the darkest blue scales- “White” scales are really just blue reflecting the light so she has that shimmery night sky look because hello somebody- Light blue lines are for regulating body temperature- particularly for cooling. Skin is very thin there with blood vessels being close to the surface (hence why they’re blue bc her blood is a light blue color) to let off heat. The vents can expand and contract based on whether she needs to hold or release body heat. (She’s been described in canon to have a really low body temperature, actually feeling cold to the touch so she’s constantly venting heat through cooling her blood.) They’re also very sensitive ofc, important information.- Sharp nails - Also sharp teeth because I must remain on brand- And ofc she’s buff as hell


HNNNNNNNNN BUFF ❤️❤️❤️❤️
                    
                
            

            
                
                
takamatsu-kun:



Can I please just talk about MCU Proxima Midnight I love her so much and have SO MANY feelings about her aaaaah

Y’all...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        unbossed:
blackourstory:

afro-dominicano:

rtamerica:

Dozens of police departments suspended for losing US military-grade weaponry
Close to 200 state and local police departments in the United States have been suspended for losing military-level equipment transferred to them by the Pentagon, a new investigation found.
According to the media outlet Fusion, its independent investigation into the Pentagon’s “1033 program,” which equips state and local police departments across the US with excess military equipment, turned up an alarming trend: Not only did many law enforcement agencies fail to comply with the program’s guidelines, they routinely lost dangerous weaponry.
Already, the investigation has found that police departments in Arizona, California, Mississippi, Missouri, Georgia, and others have lost or cannot account for various types of weapons. This list includes M14 and M16 assault rifles, .45-caliber pistols, shotguns, and even vehicles.

“they routinely lost dangerous weaponry”
that is very fucking alarming, who the hell are they being lost to? the same white supremacists bastards killing every one??

How much do you wanna bet they “lo$t them” to white supremacist friends and groups?


^^^^^
: unbossed:
blackourstory:

afro-dominicano:

rtamerica:

Dozens of police departments suspended for losing US military-grade weaponry
Close to 200 state and local police departments in the United States have been suspended for losing military-level equipment transferred to them by the Pentagon, a new investigation found.
According to the media outlet Fusion, its independent investigation into the Pentagon’s “1033 program,” which equips state and local police departments across the US with excess military equipment, turned up an alarming trend: Not only did many law enforcement agencies fail to comply with the program’s guidelines, they routinely lost dangerous weaponry.
Already, the investigation has found that police departments in Arizona, California, Mississippi, Missouri, Georgia, and others have lost or cannot account for various types of weapons. This list includes M14 and M16 assault rifles, .45-caliber pistols, shotguns, and even vehicles.

“they routinely lost dangerous weaponry”
that is very fucking alarming, who the hell are they being lost to? the same white supremacists bastards killing every one??

How much do you wanna bet they “lo$t them” to white supremacist friends and groups?


^^^^^

        

            
            

                
                
                    unbossed:
blackourstory:

afro-dominicano:

rtamerica:

Dozens of police departments suspended for losing US military-grade weaponry
Close to 200 state and local police departments in the United States have been suspended for losing military-level equipment transferred to them by the Pentagon, a new investigation found.
According to the media outlet Fusion, its independent investigation into the Pentagon’s “1033 program,” which equips state and local police departments across the US with excess military equipment, turned up an alarming trend: Not only did many law enforcement agencies fail to comply with the program’s guidelines, they routinely lost dangerous weaponry.
Already, the investigation has found that police departments in Arizona, California, Mississippi, Missouri, Georgia, and others have lost or cannot account for various types of weapons. This list includes M14 and M16 assault rifles, .45-caliber pistols, shotguns, and even vehicles.

“they routinely lost dangerous weaponry”
that is very fucking alarming, who the hell are they being lost to? the same white supremacists bastards killing every one??

How much do you wanna bet they “lo$t them” to white supremacist friends and groups?


^^^^^
: unbossed:
blackourstory:

afro-dominicano:

rtamerica:

Dozens of police departments suspended for losing US military-grade weaponry
Close to 200 state and local police departments in the United States have been suspended for losing military-level equipment transferred to them by the Pentagon, a new investigation found.
According to the media outlet Fusion, its independent investigation into the Pentagon’s “1033 program,” which equips state and local police departments across the US with excess military equipment, turned up an alarming trend: Not only did many law enforcement agencies fail to comply with the program’s guidelines, they routinely lost dangerous weaponry.
Already, the investigation has found that police departments in Arizona, California, Mississippi, Missouri, Georgia, and others have lost or cannot account for various types of weapons. This list includes M14 and M16 assault rifles, .45-caliber pistols, shotguns, and even vehicles.

“they routinely lost dangerous weaponry”
that is very fucking alarming, who the hell are they being lost to? the same white supremacists bastards killing every one??

How much do you wanna bet they “lo$t them” to white supremacist friends and groups?


^^^^^

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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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...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
: bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

        

            
            

                
                
                    bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it
: bogleech:

lynati:

movemequotes:

Once a little boy went to school.One morningThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.He liked to make all kinds;Lions and tigers,Chickens and cows,Trains and boats;And he took out his box of crayonsAnd began to draw.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make flowers.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make beautiful onesWith his pink and orange and blue crayons.But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And it was red, with a green stem.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at his teacher’s flowerThen he looked at his own flower.He liked his flower better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just turned his paper over,And made a flower like the teacher’s.It was red, with a green stem.
On another dayThe teacher said:“Today we are going to make something with clay.”“Good!” thought the little boy;He liked clay.He could make all kinds of things with clay:Snakes and snowmen,Elephants and mice,Cars and trucksAnd he began to pull and pinchHis ball of clay.
But the teacher said, “Wait!”“It is not time to begin!”And she waited until everyone looked ready.“Now,” said the teacher,“We are going to make a dish.”“Good!” thought the little boy,He liked to make dishes.And he began to make someThat were all shapes and sizes.
But the teacher said “Wait!”“And I will show you how.”And she showed everyone how to makeOne deep dish.“There,” said the teacher,“Now you may begin.”
The little boy looked at the teacher’s dish;Then he looked at his own.He liked his better than the teacher’sBut he did not say this.He just rolled his clay into a big ball againAnd made a dish like the teacher’s.It was a deep dish.
And pretty soonThe little boy learned to wait,And to watchAnd to make things just like the teacher.And pretty soonHe didn’t make things of his own anymore.
Then it happenedThat the little boy and his familyMoved to another house,In another city,And the little boyHad to go to another school.
The teacher said:“Today we are going to make a picture.”“Good!” thought the little boy.And he waited for the teacherTo tell what to do.But the teacher didn’t say anything.She just walked around the room.
When she came to the little boyShe asked, “Don’t you want to make a picture?”“Yes,” said the little boy.“What are we going to make?”“I don’t know until you make it,” said the teacher.“How shall I make it?” asked the little boy.“Why, anyway you like,” said the teacher.“And any color?” asked the little boy.“Any color,” said the teacher.And he began to make a red flower with a green stem.
~Helen Buckley, The Little Boy

…


I hate that I hesitated to reblog this just because I expect people to think it’s pretentious or melodramatic when it’s seriously real as fuck and I’ve witnessed it

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.: ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.
        

            
            

                
                
                    ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.: ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon my arrival at the Patricia Green Winery in Newberg Oregon, I was confronted with a horrific sight that left me with an awful and impossible dilemma; I could either respect the cruel and inexplicable demands of the customer by denying biscuits to their dog Maggie, or I could break their rules and yield to the almost hypnotic, yearning gaze of her pleading eyes as she beseeched me to proffer her daily treats.I considered my options carefully as I looked around to see if anyone was watching. Their wishes were clear, but what harm could *one* biscuit possibly do? What kind of barbaric monster would force their sweet dog to wear a sign around her neck prohibiting treats? How could I possibly be expected to withhold her daily Milk Bone? What had she done to deserve such barbaric treatment? And how many biscuits could I sneak to her without getting busted?Fortunately, my questions were soon answered by the arrival of her owner who graciously explained the reason for this seemingly abusive act. It turns out that the vineyard had been hosting their annual fall wine tasting all week long, and was providing the guests with salami, prosciutto, breads, and various types of gourmet cheeses to be paired with the wines. And in her role as official tasting room mascot, Maggie was allowed to circulate freely amongst the guests, who of course were rendered as powerless as I by her beseeching gaze. The result of their copious offerings of such rich meats and sharp cheeses upon her digestive system are best left to the imagination, and her humans were left with no alternative but to take drastic action in order to prevent Miss Maggie the Manipulative and Malodorous Moocher from rendering the tasting room uninhabitable.Fortunately for her, however, the feeding ban did NOT apply to ordinary dog biscuits, thus leaving me free to be the hero and ease her pangs of hunger on what turned out to be Quadruple Biscuit Friday. All was right with the world once again!By Scott Hodges.
                    
                
            

            
                
                
ups-dogs:

The Bandanna of Betrayal.The Shawl of Shame.The Horrible Hankie of Hunger.The Do-Rag of Dietary Deprivation and Despair.Upon m...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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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. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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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. 

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        bunjywunjy:
lostinhistory:

bidet-of-evil:

officialukulele:


nogoawayok:

penguinsstealingsanity:


that-ships-hellabig:


phanfruit:


krakkenchaos:

swindontownswoodilypooper:

petrovasinspace:

f-i-v-e-byfive:

thesixtysevenchevyimpala:

ilovecountryeverything:

titaniumbovine:

peaceroxi:

steveisoncrack:


HEY TUMBLR, LET’S PLAY A GAME
To play this game, go to MapCrunch, select “hide location”, make sure you have all countries unselected, and click go. What this will do is drop you in a random part of the world. It’s as if you woke up on the side of a road in an unfamiliar country. The goal of the game is to find your way to an airport so you can return home. 
Bonus Hard Mode: No using outside sources, and that includes using google maps to figure out your location from signs or landmarks

…I had plans today but now.

THE AIRPORT GAME IS BACK.

FUCK THIS GAME
LAST TIME I PLAYED IT DUMPED ME IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NORWAY
I PLAYED FOR LIKE 8 HOURS BEFORE BREAKING DOWN CRYING

OMG NO STOP THIS GAME IS MY LIFE!!!

IT’S BACK

WHY IS THIS BACK

WHYYYYY

oh shit

I HAVEN’T USED THIS GIF SINCE FEBRUARY


Always reblog Mapcrunch when someone tries to bring it back

it dropped me in a fucking room full of pandas


Ohmygod


It once dropped my in my home town a few km’s from the airport XD


i think this is gonna be a problem

i feel threatened also why is one of the cows blurred out who is she 


I’m trapped in a bathroom and i have no reflection 

I am on a dock by a bay



the last time I played this, it dumped me in the middle of a desert and when I turned the camera around it was literally standing next to the runway of an air force base
: bunjywunjy:
lostinhistory:

bidet-of-evil:

officialukulele:


nogoawayok:

penguinsstealingsanity:


that-ships-hellabig:


phanfruit:


krakkenchaos:

swindontownswoodilypooper:

petrovasinspace:

f-i-v-e-byfive:

thesixtysevenchevyimpala:

ilovecountryeverything:

titaniumbovine:

peaceroxi:

steveisoncrack:


HEY TUMBLR, LET’S PLAY A GAME
To play this game, go to MapCrunch, select “hide location”, make sure you have all countries unselected, and click go. What this will do is drop you in a random part of the world. It’s as if you woke up on the side of a road in an unfamiliar country. The goal of the game is to find your way to an airport so you can return home. 
Bonus Hard Mode: No using outside sources, and that includes using google maps to figure out your location from signs or landmarks

…I had plans today but now.

THE AIRPORT GAME IS BACK.

FUCK THIS GAME
LAST TIME I PLAYED IT DUMPED ME IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NORWAY
I PLAYED FOR LIKE 8 HOURS BEFORE BREAKING DOWN CRYING

OMG NO STOP THIS GAME IS MY LIFE!!!

IT’S BACK

WHY IS THIS BACK

WHYYYYY

oh shit

I HAVEN’T USED THIS GIF SINCE FEBRUARY


Always reblog Mapcrunch when someone tries to bring it back

it dropped me in a fucking room full of pandas


Ohmygod


It once dropped my in my home town a few km’s from the airport XD


i think this is gonna be a problem

i feel threatened also why is one of the cows blurred out who is she 


I’m trapped in a bathroom and i have no reflection 

I am on a dock by a bay



the last time I played this, it dumped me in the middle of a desert and when I turned the camera around it was literally standing next to the runway of an air force base

        

            
            

                
                
                    bunjywunjy:
lostinhistory:

bidet-of-evil:

officialukulele:


nogoawayok:

penguinsstealingsanity:


that-ships-hellabig:


phanfruit:


krakkenchaos:

swindontownswoodilypooper:

petrovasinspace:

f-i-v-e-byfive:

thesixtysevenchevyimpala:

ilovecountryeverything:

titaniumbovine:

peaceroxi:

steveisoncrack:


HEY TUMBLR, LET’S PLAY A GAME
To play this game, go to MapCrunch, select “hide location”, make sure you have all countries unselected, and click go. What this will do is drop you in a random part of the world. It’s as if you woke up on the side of a road in an unfamiliar country. The goal of the game is to find your way to an airport so you can return home. 
Bonus Hard Mode: No using outside sources, and that includes using google maps to figure out your location from signs or landmarks

…I had plans today but now.

THE AIRPORT GAME IS BACK.

FUCK THIS GAME
LAST TIME I PLAYED IT DUMPED ME IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NORWAY
I PLAYED FOR LIKE 8 HOURS BEFORE BREAKING DOWN CRYING

OMG NO STOP THIS GAME IS MY LIFE!!!

IT’S BACK

WHY IS THIS BACK

WHYYYYY

oh shit

I HAVEN’T USED THIS GIF SINCE FEBRUARY


Always reblog Mapcrunch when someone tries to bring it back

it dropped me in a fucking room full of pandas


Ohmygod


It once dropped my in my home town a few km’s from the airport XD


i think this is gonna be a problem

i feel threatened also why is one of the cows blurred out who is she 


I’m trapped in a bathroom and i have no reflection 

I am on a dock by a bay



the last time I played this, it dumped me in the middle of a desert and when I turned the camera around it was literally standing next to the runway of an air force base
: bunjywunjy:
lostinhistory:

bidet-of-evil:

officialukulele:


nogoawayok:

penguinsstealingsanity:


that-ships-hellabig:


phanfruit:


krakkenchaos:

swindontownswoodilypooper:

petrovasinspace:

f-i-v-e-byfive:

thesixtysevenchevyimpala:

ilovecountryeverything:

titaniumbovine:

peaceroxi:

steveisoncrack:


HEY TUMBLR, LET’S PLAY A GAME
To play this game, go to MapCrunch, select “hide location”, make sure you have all countries unselected, and click go. What this will do is drop you in a random part of the world. It’s as if you woke up on the side of a road in an unfamiliar country. The goal of the game is to find your way to an airport so you can return home. 
Bonus Hard Mode: No using outside sources, and that includes using google maps to figure out your location from signs or landmarks

…I had plans today but now.

THE AIRPORT GAME IS BACK.

FUCK THIS GAME
LAST TIME I PLAYED IT DUMPED ME IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NORWAY
I PLAYED FOR LIKE 8 HOURS BEFORE BREAKING DOWN CRYING

OMG NO STOP THIS GAME IS MY LIFE!!!

IT’S BACK

WHY IS THIS BACK

WHYYYYY

oh shit

I HAVEN’T USED THIS GIF SINCE FEBRUARY


Always reblog Mapcrunch when someone tries to bring it back

it dropped me in a fucking room full of pandas


Ohmygod


It once dropped my in my home town a few km’s from the airport XD


i think this is gonna be a problem

i feel threatened also why is one of the cows blurred out who is she 


I’m trapped in a bathroom and i have no reflection 

I am on a dock by a bay



the last time I played this, it dumped me in the middle of a desert and when I turned the camera around it was literally standing next to the runway of an air force base

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    


    
	

        
	

    




                    

                

                

                    




    

        
        

            
            

              
            

        

        
        
        

            

            
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Snoop Dogg's Gayle King Explosion Has Turned Into An Epic Meme Aimed At Chipotle Workers
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Shakira's Super Bowl 'Tongue Thing' Meme Has Turned Into A Teachable Moment
                                
                            

                            
                        

                    
                
            
                
                    
                        

                            

                                
                                
                                
                            

                            
                            

                                
                                    Someone turned Uno into a meme. It's too relatable