butchniqabi · 1 year ago
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"im mentally ill and i would never let my room get that messy!" omg wow thats so cool. do you want a medal? should we call madonna?
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nitpickrider · 8 months ago
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Alright motherfuckers lets get some shit straight. Whoever sent this, I assume you're seeing this right now. How fucking DARE you. How DARE you use "Kapo" as some kind of internet mud slinging, I assume directed at one of the Jewish blogs I am associated with, how DARE you direct violence against someone in my circle and then, when you made some sort of misclick spin on your heels and say it was some kind of innocent misunderstanding like you assume I'll just shrug my shoulders and wave you off so long as that sort of disgusting garbage is aimed at the "right" person. If you are the kind of person who would send this ask, to ANYONE, for ANY reason, I want to make one thing deeply CRYSTAL clear to you. You are not welcome here. My blog is not for you. I will offer shelter to 100,000 "zionists" before you are welcome to set one fucking FOOT in my area Begone. And know that every single hero I speak of joins me in being deeply, bitterly disappointed in you.
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silverjirachi · 2 months ago
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I need to buy more used clothes instead of just defaulting to like walmart and target but why does every thrift store in america have to have the most assaulting energy of anything you’ve ever seen
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boydsjosten · 1 year ago
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blond jeremy this brunette jeremy that WHAT ABOUT FAKE BLOND BAD DYE JOB JEREMY
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biblebloodhound · 2 months ago
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Wise Living Is Clean Living (Proverbs 15:1-17)
A level-headed person gives helpful answers, but a know-it-all only keeps on babbling nonsense.
A gentle answer quiets anger, but a harsh one stirs it up. When wise people speak, they make knowledge attractive, but stupid people spout nonsense. The Lord sees what happens everywhere; he is watching us, whether we do good or evil. Kind words bring life, but cruel words crush your spirit. It is foolish to ignore what your parents taught you; it is wise to accept their…
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maretriarch · 9 months ago
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im not a tattoo guy on the best of days but american traditional is like instinctuallly repulsive
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derschwarzeengel · 1 year ago
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youtube
I am yet again struck by how much Martin!Tod resembles a cat.
Mark!Tod reminds me and one of my friends so much of a lion; Martin!Tod is probably a leopard.
Uwe!Tod is a panther, definitely.
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absurdist-void · 6 months ago
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Being mentally ill is so fun. I want to live alone but I don’t trust myself to live alone because I’m afraid I’ll have a psychotic break and hurt myself when I feel 1 negative emotion. I also don’t want to get married or have a roommate I don’t know. I’m very autistic about how I want my living space to be set up and I will lose it if things are moved from their specific spaces.
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genderqueer-karma · 1 year ago
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by the way. Ouch.
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having an awful fucking day 😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁😁
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konigsblog · 18 days ago
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Touch starved!reader and kidnapper! Konig PLEASE
It feels immoral and wrong for you to enjoy König's perverted, unclean touch.
He keeps you locked away with a thick metal chain wrapped tightly around your neck, isolated from society and your beloved family members for his own selfish benefit. It's completely self-centred, your dismay and misery only profiting him. He isolates you from your friends and family to keep you all for himself and to protect you from ill and deranged perverts like himself. He's had a careful, predatory, and watchful gaze on you for longer than you realise, and now, he has you exactly where he wants you.
König lives deep within a tall, looming, and freezing forest, far from society where your only source of human interaction unfortunately has to be the depraved bastard who abducted you. Any attempts at escaping would leave you succumbing to your painful, inevitable fate.
You feel disgusted with yourself for craving his sinful touch, for enjoying the way he dotes on you, gushes about how stinkin' adorable you are while his grimey, filthy hands explore your form, pushing apart your thighs eagerly and desperately. You mourn the life you once had, your mind deteriorating quickly as a result of König's torment and treatment, being conditioned to adore him and accept what he considers ‘love’. You claim it's nothing more than a natural instinct as a result of the lack of communication and interaction you've had with another human, but deep down, your heart yearns to be held by König, to be an object for his satisfaction, sexual or not. The way he cradles you lights something up within you.
You haven't been held like this and loved on in such a long time that you can't help but greedily crave more. Fuck, you go out of your way to be touched by him, to feel those strong and protective hands caress your plush figure while he whispers the most sinister and wicked things into your ear, his terrifying and perverse obsession with you only worsening day by day.
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valtsv · 10 months ago
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cephalophore carrying guide
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X WRONG
structurally unsafe
damaging to the hair and scalp
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X WRONG
ouch :(
looking cool will not save you from an infected piercing from an unclean spike
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X WRONG
lack of adequate space or enrichment
any crumbs or other debris in the bottom of the bag will get stuck in the severed trachea
heads separated from the sight of their bodies for extended periods of time may develop separation anxiety
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✓ CORRECT
dish is wide enough to support full weight of head
secure
comfortable for carrier
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✓ CORRECT
head is properly supported
carrier maintains good posture
skin-to-skin contact is beneficial to the development of the bond between head and carrier
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joycrispy · 1 year ago
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I'm seeing some confusion out and about over the title A Companion to Owls (generally along the lines of 'what have owls got to do with it???'), so I'd like to offer my interpretation (with a general disclaimer that the Bible and particularly the Old Testament are damn complicated and I'm not able to address every nuance in a fandom tumblr post, okay? Okay):
It's a phrase taken from the Book of Job. Here's the quote in full (King James version):
When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. --(Job 30:29)
Job is describing the depths of his grief, but also, with that last line, his position in the web of providence.
Throughout the Old Testament, owls are a recurring symbol of spiritual devastation. Deuteronomy 4:17 - Isaiah 34:11 - Psalm 102: 3 - Jeremiah 50: 39...just to name a few (there's more). The general shape of the metaphor is this: owls are solitary, night-stalking creatures, that let out either mournful cries or terrible shrieks, that inhabit the desolate places of the world...and (this is important) they are unclean.
They represent a despair that is to be shunned, not pitied, because their condition is self-inflicted. You defied God (so the owl signifies), and your punishment is...separation. From God, from others, from the world itself. To call and call and never, ever receive an answer.
Your punishment is terrible, tormenting loneliness.
(and that exact phrase, "tormenting loneliness," doesn't come from me...I'm pulling it from actual debate/academia on this exact topic. The owls, and what they are an omen for. Oof.)
To call yourself a 'companion to owls,' then, is to count yourself alongside perhaps the most tragic of the damned --not the ones who defy God out of wickedness or ignorance, and in exile take up diabolical ends readily enough...but the ones who know enough to mourn what they have lost.
So, that's how the title relates to Job: directly. Of course, all that is just context. The titular "companion to owls," in this case, isn't Job at all.
Because this story is about Aziraphale.
The thing is that Job never actually defied God at all, but Aziraphale does, and he does so fully believing that he will fall.
He does so fully believing that he's giving in to a temptation.
He's wrong about that, but still...he's realized something terrifying. Which is that doing God's will and doing what's right are sometimes mutually exclusive. Even more terrifying: it turns out that, given the choice between the two...he chooses what's right.
And he's seemingly the only angel who does. He's seemingly the only angel who can even see what's wrong.
Fallen or not, that's the kind of knowledge that...separates you.
(Whoooo-eeeeee, tormenting loneliness!!!)
Aziraphale is the companion.
...I don't think I need to wax poetic about Aziraphale's loneliness and grappling with devotion --I think we all, like, get it, and other people have likely said it better anyway. So, one last thing before I stop rambling:
Check out Crowley's glasses.
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(screenshots from @seedsofwinter)
Crowley is the owl.
Crowley is the goddamn owl.
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months ago
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Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times
The Bug Collector
1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader
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a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.
warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic
summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.
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The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment. 
The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.
You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub. 
“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”
“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”
The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you. 
Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns. 
On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him. 
You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”
“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”
And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened. 
Weakened.
“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process. 
Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.
You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”
He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”
High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.
Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject. 
Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments. 
You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.
“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.
Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”
You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food. 
“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.
Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards. 
He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.
“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“
You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”
He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“
“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”
You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt. 
“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”
He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped. 
The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.
If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head. 
“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?” 
His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.
You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking. 
“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.
His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more. 
The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics. 
However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course. 
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elliesbff · 7 months ago
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“i need you.” — abby anderson
hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 !
summary: after tending to neglected needs, it takes 5 words to turn the tables. notes: nsfw, scissoring, oral sex, (r!receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. wc: 2,793 | tags: none
read pt 1 of " i need you " here!
moments prior,
abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.
when you were nothing but a baby wolf, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.
she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.
she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.
abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.
you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.
maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.
the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.
all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.
your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.
your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.
with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.
you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.
“please… please.”
the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.
with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.
your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.
you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.
while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,
“abby?”
you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.
it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.
as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.
“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.
and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.
her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.
she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.
it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.
her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.
her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.
her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.
your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.
her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..
your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.
“abby,”
you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.
her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.
abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.
your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.
“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.
you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.
abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.
your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.
abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?
your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.
in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.
“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.
as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.
“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.
you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.
tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.
the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.
“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.
all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.
she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.
“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.
you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.
she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.
you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.
abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.
but abby was far from finished.
she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.
with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.
you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.
trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.
she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.
a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.
the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.
“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.
you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.
“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.
“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.
you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.
“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.
only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.
you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.
“we should clean up..”
“we?” abby questions.
“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”
abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.
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catmask · 30 days ago
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if it's not too intrusive, would you be comfortable talking about your experiences with OCD and maybe what made you seek a diagnosis?
idm it might help other people. i mean disclaimer not to use this as a diagnostic tool but if this sounds like u and u got a doc to talk to its worth bringing up
i think an important place to start and why i didnt think i had ocd is i am 1) autistic 2) a csa victim. this is pertinent because all of the things that actually lead me to get diagnosed with ocd i just kept dismissing as parts of those two other things. thinking 'surely this is all thats up there cant be anything else wrong with me' (<- thoughts of a clown)
the trouble with this is that coping skills id found for parts of both autism and csa trauma weren't working with things i later found out were related to ocd. so like, for example. frequently having intrusive thoughts about csa/sex trauma, i was told that if im experiencing a flashback the best thing i can do is try to ground myself and comfort myself. and yeah this is true, it would work if a flashback is all it was. but what it DIDNT account for is the guilt/dirty feeling id get after having them and the obsessive need to be 'clean' after.
and this trickled into hundreds of aspects of my life. 'cleaness' has always been such a vague unattainable concept unmedicated for ocd. if some things touch other things theyd become 'unclean'. if a person i felt uncomfortable around touched me or something it became 'unclean'. there were 'good' and 'bad' thoughts to have. i was constantly existing as if my presence was being monitored 24/7.
i could not fucking relax because every action i took, regardless of whether or not i was in private, i was constantly thinkin 'am i doing something wrong? am i hurting someone by doing this? am i breaking any rules?' and the 'bad thing' i was doing was like. i missed my boyfriend while he was at work. or i was going over former scenarios in which i was socially awkward in my head and wondering if i should be dead for doing that.
part of why i dismissed this as autism ofc too is yknow. being autistic i often missed social queues as a kid and was pretty brutally punished for it (physically by my parents, emotionally and socially by peers) so i was like yeah its Normal and Realsitic id have super intense fear about 'am i secretly doing something bad and dont realzie it because no one will fucking tell me until ive already done it and its too late and then i deserve all the punishment i get' but where my loved ones stepped in and were like Hey thats Not really normal. is where it waslike. other autistic people going 'brother i dont do that'
so yeah. it was like. kind of rule of elimination? the problems that wrrent getting solved by coping skills for the Other problems i Knew i had, i isolated those leftover things and my doctor was like 'this sounds like you have ocd. do you do this too' and listed out like 60 other things i didnt consider symptoms i just considered 'funny quirks' i had, like crying so hard id throw up if i couldnt get a blanket to lie perfectly flat during a picnic when i was 8 or thinking i was going to hell and my stuffed animals could feel pain so i would apologize to them iver and over while crying when they fell off the bed
you know. 'quirks'
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