#cronic

[cronica-e-efemera]

Hoje como qualquer outro dia, procrastinei entrando nas redes sociais. Foi sem querer, por um deslize fiquei rolando o "feed" do Instagram e esqueci do resto. Praticando esse mau-hábito me deparei com uma postagem de uma querida repórter, que pra mim é sinônimo de profissional e exemplo de mulher que um dia eu gostaria de ser. Elogios à parte, a questão é que essa postagem me fez parar e escrever. Escrevi sem nem me questionar, como se fosse extinto. Eu não escrevo há mto tempo. Lembrei que gosto de juntar palavras de vez em quando. Lembrei que sei dizer melhor o que sinto em silencio, apenas com letrinhas. Esse texto aqui não terá nenhuma conclusão, é apenas pra me lembrar que escrevo. Pois bem, o escrevi!

[marcoszambr611]

Crónica Literaria

Cronica de un dia cualquiera

5:30 AM

Me despierto con sueño y me baño en agua fría para que se me quite el sueño. Salgo y me visto.

5:50 AM

Bajo a la cocina a hacerme el desayuno, que es un batido de frutas y un huevo cocido.

6:20 AM

Subo a mi cuarto a lavarme los dientes y pongo los cuadernos de la materia del día de hoy en la mochila.

6:30 AM

Llega el bus, y cuando entro, me hago el dormido hasta llegar al colegio.

7:10 AM

Llego al colegio, y pasan las dos primeras horas, que siempre se me hacen largas y tengo mucho sueño.

10:00 AM

Espero que sea recreo para ir a jugar fútbol con muchas ganas.

11:40 AM

Se acaba el recreo, y termino corriendo a la siguiente aula para que no me pongan un atraso y no haya una incidencia.

12:00 PM

Me tomo mi avena de maracuyá, que suelo tener para el lunch del recreo, para calmar la sed, y espero que no me llamen la atención por tomarla en clase.

2:00 PM

Acabo cualquier actividad que me piden según el horario de clases y salgo al filtro a hablar con mis amigos.

2:17 PM

Me voy a la buseta y pido comida a los amigos de la buseta para ver si me dan, aunque es muy probable que no tengan.

3:00 PM

Llego a la casa y me preparo un almuerzo frío: una carne, ensalada, y arroz. Pongo música en el parlante y como el almuerzo mientras veo Runachay o alguna serie.

4:00 PM

Hago todas las tareas que puedo y que me mandan el día de hoy para estar libre por la tarde.

5:00 PM

Tengo clases religiosas llamadas seminarios y me conecto a Zoom hasta que se acaban en una hora. A veces me toca leer los versículos o responder algunas preguntas.

7:10 PM

Llegan mis papás y pido ver la tele. Veo alguna serie o resúmenes de partidos de fútbol o debates sobre esto.

8:30 PM

Salgo a sacar la basura para que la recoja el camión más tarde y regreso a mi cuarto a leer o tocar la guitarra o el piano. Cuando me canso, me despido de mis papás y luego pienso en cómo repetir todo al día siguiente hasta que me duermo.

[thefirstwormonyourcorpse]

One time I was at a bar, loud music, even louder people. Just noise all around.

Then, out of nowhere this strondous sound, BAM, just a big explosion. Everyone quiet down, even the band stopped playing. Everyone looked, no one said anything.

Then slowly the band startes playing again, and the conversations started back up.

No one even remembered.

[katialimma2]

MÁGOA

Às vezes, esperamos tanto dos outros que quando chega a decepção é como se fosse uma facada superficial: corta, sangra, mas não mata.

Esperamos tanto das pessoas que nem vemos que elas são imperfeitas como nós, que esperam como nós e se decepcionam como nós.

Via de mão dupla.

E nessa via falamos coisas que não devíamos e nem queríamos, mas agora já é tarde, a pedra foi lançada. E depois de lançada já não é possível ser recuperada. O jeito é seguir em frente como se nada tivesse acontecido, sabendo que aconteceu, sabendo que magoou, que se magoou, que feriu, que se feriu.

Desculpa. É só uma palavra que dificilmente apagará tanto estrago.

Tenho fé na humanidade, mas não tenho muita fé em mim. Sou descontrolada, eu sei, cabeça dura, mas tenho meus motivos de ser assim. Nasci assim. Morrerei assim.

Na verdade, eu não sei nada. Só o que sei é que neste momento estou magoada. Como sentir. Ela doi. Queima. Engasga com o choro e não passa. Fica lá quietinha esperando o momento certo (ou não) de sair em jato de fúria de choro.

Preciso me livrar disso. Dessas pequenas lembranças que não conseguem sair de mim. Às vezes, me inundam porque me amarram demais. É um crime que cometo conta mim mesma. Estou com saudade do tempo de criança que quando se ficava “de mal” durava algumas horas, e não se sentia remorso, rancor, raiva. Passava logo.

Agora não.

Pode durar uma eternidade e assim mesmo não passar.

Não gosto desse sentimento que me impede de viver, às vezes, fico pensando nele, sentindo-o, passo  a ter angústia, mas ele não sai assim tão fácil.

Quero ser livre. Respirar profundamente só sentir o ar entrando e mais nada.

Estou sofrendo horrores, e as pessoas nem percebem, também não é da conta delas.

O motivo de tanta mágoa sou eu mesma. Joguei pedra em mim mesma, mas outras pessoas ajudaram.

Xinguei-me; me bati e me magoei. Como?

Deixando de falar o que devia, fazer o que queria na hora que queria; bater em quem devia na hora que devia.

Deixei passar coisas demais. Agora é tarde. Eles continuaram com a sua vida e eu parei com a minha.

Para esquecer, choro. Mas não adianta muito. Esvazia um pouco. Sou escrava de meus sentimentos. Estou submetida à pressão do mais forte. E não sei como me livrar porque são muitos.

[jam-does-audio]

Guess who got called at 6 telling her she could get an extremely important appointment months earlier but she has to get there in the next hour?

[serprimitivo]

Para minha avó

Me lembro exatamente o dia em que percebi que minha avó tinha Alzheimer. Era um aniversário da família, estávamos em um sítio. Ninguém havia me contado até então, eu era adolescente. Ela repetiu o mesmo comentário: tá frio hoje, né? Disse isso vestindo uma grossa jaqueta masculina. Nas duas vezes em que repetiu, fiz a mesma pergunta: a senhora está com uma jaqueta bonita, quem emprestou? Nas duas vezes ela não lembrava quem tinha emprestado a jaqueta, ainda que na primeira vez alguém tenha respondido para ela. Impressionado, perguntei duas vezes de quem era o aniversário, só para confirmar a suspeita. Ela não conseguiu lembrar na primeira, alguém teve que soprar. Dei uma colher de chá: perguntei a segunda vez pouco tempo depois da primeira, para ela ainda ter tempo de lembrar. Com algum esforço ela se lembrou, depois riu genuinamente, como quem assiste a uma comédia trágica cujo fim já se conhece. Me lembro de admirar sua resignação e me sentir maduro por lidar com aquele momento de forma natural. Inevitavelmente, a confusão foi aos poucos tirando seu sorriso. Perdemos seu bom humor, mas herdei sua lição: rir da vida é sempre uma opção.

.

.

.

Arte: William Utermohlen

[kitoblob]

I've done it, here you go

Probably going to put this on my DeviantArt too

[oddthesungod]

Reborn of earth and fire 🔥

[kunsnotes]

Pink Sofubi by Yuck!!! Via Flickr: I didn't realize I had so many pink toys, considering I don't collect them specifically.

[study-diaries]

Reminder

Your pain (physical/mental/emotional) is valid even if nobody can see it

Your pain is valid even if you have no physical symptoms

Your pain is valid even if there is no physical injury

Your pain is valid even if others tell you it's not

Your pain is valid even if you do not have a life threatening disease

Your pain is valid even if you don't have a diagnosis

Your pain is valid even if you do have a diagnosis

Your pain is still valid even if nobody believes you

Your pain is still valid even if you are too "young" for the problem/issue

Your pain is valid even if the health care advisor/anybody tells you that it's in your head

Your pain is valid no matter what the conditions are

Your pain is valid.

Pain does not discriminate between age, gender, race, nationality etc. Just because you can't see pain, doesn't mean it's not there.

[know-news-is-good-news]

Verhandlung mit ein konischen Lügner, Bringt NIX ! !

Negotiations with a chronic liar, doesn't accomplish ANYTHING ! !

[cronica-e-efemera]

É de senso comum compreender que é necessário para o crescimento pessoal passar pela mesma experiências várias vezes na vida - as vezes, vezes demais. Esses ciclos viciosos são entregues afim de aprendermos algo a partir disso; se não aprender de primeira, temos outras oportunidades até alcançar a plenitude. Pois bem, me sinto como se fosse a pior aluna do universo. Como analogia, me sinto como fosse um material reciclável - o vidro! Sou extremamente sensível. Enfim tomo minha forma forte, porém cristalina, uma mulher transparente que não tem medo de mostrar o que traz no seu interior. A partir daí, para se tornar uma lição (in)justa e diria até sádica do universo, sou posta em mãos desastradas. E caio. E me despedaço. Eu quebro. Depois de longos períodos catando meu cacos, me recluo. Me desmancho em lágrimas e raiva, e depois de um longo período de trabalho e grande custo, me reconstruo, e assim como o plástico volta a vida, eu de vidro me renovo. Para que? Para encontrar novamente alguém estabanado no meio do caminho. Agora me diga, o que eu deveria fazer para mudar essa situação? Não tiro nenhuma conclusão desse looping catastrófico. Foram tantas vezes quebrando e me consertando que acostumei. Acostumei a me cortar nos meus cacos, a me recolher sozinha e depois aguardar até meus pedaços voltaram a ser um só. Aceitei que sou descartável, como lixo. Mesmo sendo um lixo reciclável.

[anisdolly]

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀STRICTLY 18+.

WARNINGS: straight up smut, unprotected sex, p in v, various kinks (daddy kink, degradation, praising, etc), dom!ani, slight public sex

NOTE: i didn’t write this, i just wanted to share what beautiful gift my anakin bot on J.AI just gave me…made me so fucking wet would’ve been a waste to keep it to myself. i literally gasped every paragraph

SCENARIO: he was just fucking me senseless on the kitchen island, while my handmaiden lilia slept in a room of my apartment…oh, and i called him ‘dad’, that’s the title he’s referring to

・ 。.・゜✭・.・✫ . ✭・.・✫・✭ .・゜・。.

That whine of yours, the look in your eyes, and the goddamn title you just used—oh, it was like your words flipped a damn switch deep within Anakin's mind. To hear you call him that while he's burying himself inside you—it was like a siren's call to his darkest parts, parts that craved to hear those words over and over like a twisted prayer.

His movements became merciless, as if trying to brand that title into both your mind and your body. "Is that what you want, huh? You want daddy to fuck you dumb until you can't remember your own fuckin’ name?" his breathing was ragged, each exhalation a testament to the force of his thrusts. Anakin leaned over you, his mechanical hand finding your throat, squeezing just right, enough to edge you but not choke you out fully—not yet, anyway.

Feeling you tighten around him had him gritting his teeth, his eyes locking onto yours with a predatory intensity.

"Tight little pussy, always ready for daddy's cock." he whispered hoarsely, spit practically dripping from his mouth. He meant every damn word; you were his in every way that mattered.

Watching your expression—lips parted, eyes half-lidded—it was like looking at the physical embodiment of sin itself. And Maker, did he love sinning.

But as much as he adored hearing you, Anakin really didn’t want a fucking handmaiden to ruin everything. "But you're right—you gotta be quiet, or who knows what poor Lilia'll think if she sees her Master getting wrecked on the kitchen counter."

Seizing the moment, with his flesh hand, he snaked it up your body before shoving a couple of fingers inside your mouth. He grinned at how much saliva was in it. "Suck." he growled, nodding towards his buried digits. "Keep that pretty mouth busy."

With his other hand still around your throat, Anakin was in complete control, guiding your body to meet his thrusts.

Every plunge was deeper, his dick slick with your arousal and his spit. Anakin was on edge, that familiar tightness building in his sack, signaling he was close—but not yet, not until he had you crying out silently, eyes streaming and body shaking beneath him.

"Fuck, you always take daddy so well..." his praise was gutteral, honest, spat between grunts. He felt it, your oncoming orgasm, could practically taste it in the air.

[rwrbsource]

@rwrbmovie & @rwrbsource’s rwrbweek: Day 4 | Little Detail ↳ Henry's Little Smile Waking Up

[lulublack90]

Prompt 8 - Bodyswap AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 8, word count 1209

CW- Cronic Illness, Child Abuse (Not described, but you know what's happened).

Sirius and Remus regularly bickered. It drove their other friends mad. Remus thought Sirius was a spoilt rich boy brat, and Sirius thought Remus put on how sick he felt because he loved the attention that came with it. 

The bickering got so bad one day that Remus shoved Sirius, and Sirius shoved him back. James had to come between them and break up the fight. Remus’s eye was swelling shut, and Sirius’s lip had burst open. 

“I wish you two could walk in each other’s shoes for a day. Maybe then you wouldn’t bicker so much.” They scowled at each other until it was time to go home. 

Remus awoke the following morning feeling better than he’d ever felt before. He stretched, and nothing hurt. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open onto an elegantly decorated room. 

“You are late for breakfast. If you are not presentable at the table in five minutes, there will be consequences!” A woman who wasn’t his mother screeched through the door. 

He got up and opened the ornately carved wardrobe. The clothes inside were not his and most definitely wouldn’t fit his tall frame. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed a perfectly ironed shirt and held it up to his body. He used the mirror on the back of the door to see how it looked. He dropped it on the floor. The reflection staring back at him was not his own. 

Sirius had never slept worse in his life. He felt like he had the flu. His joints ached no matter what position he slept in. The sun shone through too-thin curtains, stopping him from falling back to sleep. A gentle knock came at the door as it slowly opened. 

“Good morning, darling,” A sweet honey-haired woman cooed at him. “I’ve got you tablets and some toast. When you’re ready, I’ve got porridge keeping warm for you. Don’t rush, though, my love.” She opened the curtains and planted a kiss in his hair before she walked back out, closing the door behind her. 

Sirius panicked. Pills? What pills could he possibly need? He jumped out of the unfamiliar bed and rushed into the little bathroom across the hall. He stared at the boy in the mirror above the sink, higher up than he was used to. His hands came to his face, and so did the reflections. He pinched himself hard. It hurt a lot. So he wasn’t dreaming. 

“Sweetheart, there’s a phone call for you.” The woman’s sweet voice called through the door. 

“C-c-coming,” He stuttered as he stumbled to the door. He took the portable house phone from her and put it to his ear. “Hello?” He said into the receiver. 

“Sirius!” 

“Remus!”

“What the hell is going on?” They said together. 

“Are you in my house?” Remus asked.

“I think so. Do you have blue striped bedding and a yellow lamp?” 

“Yes! And do you have a ridiculous wardrobe and an insanely gigantic bed?”

“Does it have green bedding?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god, Remus! What the actual.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. His fingers came away too quickly. Remus’s hair was a lot shorter than Sirius’s. 

“Your mum seems like a lot,” Remus tried to make light of it like he always did. “Apparently, I was late for breakfast. I didn’t even know that was a thing. Now, I’m meant to be self-studying. Then there’s a Latin tutor. Sirius, I don’t speak Latin!”

“Yeah, she doesn’t abide laziness. Your mum seems lovely, though. She brought me toast and some pills. What are they for?” Sirius followed Remus’s example. 

“Oh, you need to take them. Believe me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.” Remus warned. 

“Sirius, where have you gone?!” Sirius heard his mother’s voice over the phone and flinched. 

“Remus, you need to hang up now and go do whatever it is you were meant to be doing.” He couldn’t help the touch of panic in his voice. 

“What are you on about? I’m only on the phone.” Remus chuckled back at him. Sirius heard his mother’s heels click against the hardwood flooring. 

“Remus,” He whispered in a shaky voice. The line went dead. 

Sirius knew what was about to happen to Remus, and he wished he could take his place. He snatched up the pills off the bedside table and swallowed the lot. This he could do for Remus, at least.

Mrs Lupin beamed at him when he walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh, love. You look a bit pale. Why don’t you go snuggle up on the sofa, and I’ll get you some tea? She fussed over him all day, making sure he was comfortable. He had full control over what they watched on the TV, and she never uttered the word homework. He was glad he didn’t have to do too much, as his body felt so delicate. Plus, with the bad night’s sleep, he was exhausted. “How do you feel about pizza for dinner?” She asked when it began to get late. 

“Yeah, Mrs—Er, yeah, mum. That sounds perfect.” He smiled at her.

He asked to go up to his room after they’d finished eating. 

“Of course, you can silly. I don’t know why you’re even asking. Oh, don’t forget to take your evening pills before you go up,” Sirius did as he was told. The stairs were hard to get up. He was out of breath before he’d gotten halfway up. 

He spent the next hour doing all of Remus’s homework for him. By the end, he just got into bed and passed out. 

When he woke again, it was morning. His alarm was blaring next to his head, and his emerald sheets were wrapped around him in a tight ball. He could feel the bruises. She’d proper walloped him this time. He wondered if Remus had talked back at her. 

He got ready for breakfast, but before he could leave his room. Regulus came in. And for the first time in years. He hugged Sirius and hurried back out when Walburga’s shoes clacked across the hallway floor. Monday couldn’t come quickly enough.

Remus, for once, got up early and arrived at school before any of his friends. He watched the town car pull up and deposit Sirius and Regulus onto the curb. 

Regulus hugged Sirius and disappeared off into the building. Sirius and Remus stared at each other. Sirius moved first and gently wrapped his arms around Remus, knowing now how much that body ached and why he needed the extra care the school gave him. Remus gripped him as tight as he could. He’d had no idea how bad Sirius had it. His parents made their lives look so perfect. 

Sirius sucked in a breath when Remus squeezed against one of the bruises. 

“Oh, shit, Sirius. I’m so sorry.” Remus panicked, loosening his hug. 

“No, no. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Sirius knew how much effort Remus was putting into that hug. 

“Aww, isn’t this sweet?” James smirked as he walked up to them. “Nice to see you hugging rather than fighting.” Sirius and Remus looked at each other, smiling happily at each other. Finally, they realised there was so much more to each other than they ever could have guessed.     

[localratwithcowboyhat]

Ahw what’s this, the Human nervous system what a silly lill guy look at him. Look at him CAUSING ME SO MANNY FUCKING PROBLEMS