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My whole life has felt like it’s not my own. Too many things controlling so little. Suddenly, I feel stuck in a place so unforgiving and forced. Every choice I’ve made has been made for me. A linear path with no options. Breaking free is a task only made for those much stronger than myself. I, however, carry on as if I still have the strength to choose. I don’t know what I like anymore as I’ve never found things that I enjoy. Sleeping feels like the calm I need before everything else. I consume too much with too little return. I don’t think I have been the same since Covid when I felt both anxious and free.

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this blog hates donald trump

Look how many people hate him. I’m pretty damn happy about that 😁😁😁😁😁😁

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🩸 Vamp Choso 🩸

Nice commenters tagged: @papersirens @absolute-flaming-trash @hideandgopeep @ventriclealchemy

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“You are responsible for the minors in your fandom!!!”

No, I’m fucking not. I’m not your parent. My past-times do not automatically sign me up to act in loco parentis. If you need someone else to monitor your own content consumption online, go get mommy and/or daddy to set up a content blocker on your computer.

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Want more bunny videos and posts?

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Manifesting Chaos:

Prompt: The Book of Lost Things. A magical book that can help the reader find anything that has been lost.

‘Bring me back God’ I hurriedly wrote in the book with the crumbling binding. Each page had a scattered, eclectic choice of wants. There were scribbles of long lost loved one’s names. Most of them are hurriedly written in pen or pencil. A few were written in a dripped red liquid. My greatest guess would be their final scrawlings of their own blood since they brought nothing else to write.

The book seemed unassuming at first. It looked like an old leather back book found on the dusty section of a dimly lit library. It wasn’t the biggest book; yet, kids wouldn’t be tricked into reading it because it was so short. Nothing seemed spectacular. In fact, it looked like it should have been sold off in a bargain bin many years ago. The title was painted in gold trim “Secrets of the Long Lost” by Eric Chamberlin.

I had almost passed by the book itself. Who would choose such a book to keep the secrets of the universe within its pages?

Above me, fluorescent lights flickered like fireflies dancing in the night. There was an eerie silence to the once bustling library. Although, I had thought there may be some screams or terror downed out when my pen finished with the page. There was no flash of lightning and no magical manifestation of whatever God I could be referring to within my own writings. I’d lost my religion so long ago that the thought of a returning deity excited my poor daily life.

In fact, I would have never written in this book beyond the first page stating:

All that write may find what they’re searching for.

Sincerely,

Eric C.

Below his name was his own written wish: my child, Elizabeth. Many of the pages were filled with loved ones, some of them with pets, and even fewer with trinkets. I read a few more in the waiting period for what I have lost. One entry read ‘my teddy bear from 5th grade’. Another said ‘my pet, Scrappy.’ One caught my eye that said ‘my will to keep living.’

All of these people were just like me. We all looked down at this book at one point through the years. Yet, did they receive their gift? Was I in the pile of idiots who tried to fill a void left by something? Or was I alone?

I became steadfast and closed the book. It was a silly endeavor to drown my own curiosity in such thoughts. Why would a god be drug to me because of a book?

The lights kept flickering as I disappeared outside. Nothing in that library had satisfied me for years. There was no reason to return after all.

Stepping outside, the air felt like electricity stirring about me. My gaze turned towards the sky as every hair stood in salute. I was right. No normal God did exist.

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Time is but a drop in the ocean (Illumi/reader) angst

Checking your phone gets lonelier the more you pick it up. Every empty vibration of someone else’s happiness angers the soul. Your best friend hanging out at a party or your worst enemy showing off their new clothes. Both feel the same in one’s eyes when he’s gone. Many nights you lay awake wondering if you’ve done something to piss him off, but you know he’s busy. 

Your fingers scroll over the messages once more. ‘Sorry my love. I have another mission. Call you tomorrow.’ It’s been three days since this. Three days of silence. Sometimes the lies feel so endless. A day always turns into three then five and soon a week ends before you can hear his voice. 

You muster up your courage and decide to call. Your hand fumbles over the picture of Illumi. It was one of the only moments you’ve caught him with the curl upward of his right lip. He stated it was a smile but you knew it was much more. He’s finally given you an opportunity to see the true him. 

The phone went to voicemail almost immediately. The electronic wizzing of “the number you have tried to reach couldn’t answer the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep.” Each word was the snap of a tightly wound cord deep inside. 

“Hey baby.” Your own breath felt empty as if the straining caught you off guard. “It’s been a few days. I was wanting to check on you.” 

Feelings had always been difficult to muster. It was easier to check up on him then to say you missed him. Cool tears rolled down your cheek and met at the bottom of the phone. It was as if each tear could be sent with the words spoken. 

“I hope you’re doing alright.” You caught your sobbing breath before it could start. A few more shaky breaths left your mouth before you felt some anger bubble up. As much as you missed him, it wasn’t the first time he neglected you. Moments of silence filled the air. “Listen, Illumi.” You didn't know where your words would take you. “I am tired of not hearing you respond. It’s been days. I…” Your voice trails off before letting out a bolder lifting sigh. “I think if you keep this up then we will need to have a deeper talk than you think. I love you.”

Your brain picks at your next words. “I love you so much Illumi. But I can’t keep doing this. Please call me back as soon as you can.” Your finger holds over the end call; however, you can’t do it. Something holds the moment in the air. Time stills. It feels so final. 

When you got the courage to turn off your phone, you knew it was over between you two. Hours turned into days which turned into weeks. There was never a call from that number again.

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I WAS RIGHT!!!!!

I think I’m getting engaged next week

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I think I’m getting engaged next week

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Teacher appreciation week

Commercial use grinder to speckles

Forged by unforgiving sales.

Purchases from a wallet that gives

Until it bends again.

Breaking beneath the weight of thousands

Of crying children.

50 percent off your worth

20 percent of needed pay

Buy one get one mental disorders

Maybe a free giveaway to a vacation

Will pacify you today.

A box of pencils or

A bag of candy

Is a petty reply for Sisyphus’s journey

If only he had to pay for the rock

And the hill

And the fall back down

“Teachers are the future” cried the public

To Future burn outs

Five years seems like a long time

When praise lasts a short while.

But the spark that ignited a fire spreads low.

Devastated the forest

And the need to re-grow.

For I cannot do it.

I’m one of the guilty

The kindling can only be harbored

By those lives we’ve changed.

Happy teachers appreciation

But only those those who make change.

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dm'ing a mutual you've never interacted with one-on-one is so embarrassing like. hi.... im sorry. you can kill me if you want... can i have your discord..... if not.. feel free to shoot me down where i stand... im sorry.. i'll leave..

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It’s my birthday today!!!!

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Christmas bunny!!!!!

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Most of you don’t know but I’m massively into theater. This year I was given the opportunity to direct Alice in Wonderland. It was so good! I was able to watch them grow as actors and stage crew. I’m so proud of my kids. I’m so proud of my own growth. It was a massive production with about 50 kids.

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I miss all the friends I had on here. Sorry I’ve been busy.

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Sinfully Planned

NanamixReader

Warning: Smut, Vouyerism, hairpulling, eating out woman, oral, cumming inside, more dominate Nanami, cheating too

I hope you all like this one! I know I've been gone for awhile. I'd hope to come back soon but I can't promise anything. Hope you have a good day and happy reading!

I almost never forget anything. I never lose my car keys or my purse. Except for one time. It so happened that I left my keys at Nanami’s apartment. I’d gotten all the way to mine before I even realized my mistake. A simple text was sent, and I made my way back. I told him to keep the door open for me so I can slip in and out. I thought I knew where I had left them. It was on the table by the couch. The couch where I slept last night due to a fight with my boyfriend. I was expecting them to be there. 

I, however, did not expect to hear something from the bedroom: a call of my name. It was small and almost non-existent. I needed to know why he’d called me though. If it was a fluke, I’d just leave. 

A quick peek through the door frame was enough to quench my thirst for knowledge of what was happening inside. I could feel my heart jump to my throat while watching. My eyes were transfixed on Nanami’s hand holding an already dripping dick. He thrusted his hand up and down to accentuate each muscle in his arm. The other gripping the covers as if trying to get a hold on this pleasure. 

The intimate moment felt even more hot because of how vile it was to keep watching. Although, I couldn’t take a moment away from the beauty in front of me. Nanami’s body was sculpted from years of putting in extra work into his craft. It was sinful, yet beautiful. His abs flexed with the pulse of his hand. Nanami kept a close rhythm as if he was already chasing this high. Sweat littered his forehead while he was biting his lip. Sinful grunts escaped beyond his control. It was the original reason I came to his door. 

I could feel myself holding my own breath as if I did anything would cause this beauty to stop, and the show would end. I should stop watching. I should go back and  pretend I didn’t see anything. All of these “shoulds” may even stop me from doing anything. My mind raced before deciding to take a single step back. One step and I’d be free to pretend my crush never existed. That was until the creek from the floorboards gave away my position. 

I cursed the wooden floorboards we had installed years ago. Maybe he didn’t hear. Maybe I can talk my way out of it. All the maybes in the world wouldn’t prepare me for Nanami standing at the door frame in only a towel. “What are you doing?”

 “Nothing,” I stumbled out while trying to walk away. “I was coming to tell you about where we’d be having dinner tonight.” I was making eye contact but slipped to the towel that barely held up against his waist. It was a simple mistake but it made me feel vulnerable. His gaze was glaring and almost predatory. 

“Do you really think I’d buy that excuse?” Nanami says while stretching to drape an arm on the frame. Sweat still gleaned from his brow and chest. His hair was mildly wet with the same sweat. 

I hadn’t realized how much he towered over me. “No,” I muttered. His build was glorious. A god who found his way on earth. His eyes full of a mystery that he refused to tell anyone else. I couldn’t tell who leaned in first. However, our lips met in a passionate frenzy. It was an angry frenzy of passion. 

Nanami lips felt like sweet syrup. They were a bit chapped but easily fixed with some shared saliva. He pressed my body against his so I could feel every bit of him. The towel slipped so easily off. Same with my shirt. His lust mirrored my own as we broke for a second of time. Nanami’s hand reached around and popped off my bra before dragging me to bed. 

“Fuck,” I mutter as the bed squeaked under my weight. He cut off my curse with another chaste kiss. Each one left me breathless. Nanami’s size was massive over me. I meant that in both possible ways. 

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do to you,” he grunts while tugging at my pants. A quick pull, and they fall off with the rest of my clothes that are all lost to the void. His exclamation made my legs cross in excitement for them to be caught by his thigh. “Don’t close them already. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Nanami’s voice felt commanding yet kind. He cared but steadied himself. A finger ran down my pussy. While gathering the juice, he put it to his lips like a drink. He was tasting before his meal. “Already so wet for me, sweetheart?” 

A blush crossed my face and before I could respond, Nanami dipped his head to lick my clit. A simple swipe but enough to create friction all over. He found his peace making me squirm and moan for him. My hands dug into the perfectly placed hair on his head as I pulled him closer. I wanted every bit of myself to be covering his face. 

It took a bit but he finally found what would drive me over the wall soon enough. His tongue lapped up like a starved man. He was worshiping me. He worshiped each second of eating me out. 

I made sure to praise his efforts as he slowly built me up. Finally, I felt the rubber band snap. Nanami took this joy to watch his handwork. He used his thumb to keep my orgasm rolling through my body. His eyes desperately carve his name into my skin. Once I gain composure, I look up to see he is pumping his cock once again. 

“Was that good sweetheart?” he asks. 

I nod my head still trying to catch my breath. My chest was rising and falling at the same rate as he was jerking himself off. My eyes catch a glimpse of my keys. They were sitting on the nightstand. 

“Did you plan this?” I was confused. Nanami took this to turn me around with my ass in the air. I didn’t get an answer to my question, only his dick pushed against my entrance as if asking if he could. How could I deny a simple request? “Who cares. I want you to fuck me.”

“How can I not oblige?” he grunts before pushing into me. Nanami fills me to the brim. “Fuck,” he grunts while bottoming out. My head buries into the mattress. Possessiveness took over his body. He grips my hair and pulls it back. It was an aggressive but commanding tug. 

“Why do you think I left my room door open too?” he growled while forcing him to look at me. His eyes full of lust as he used me as a counterbalance for his thrusts. Our lips crashed aggressively. For as calculated as he seemed to pace himself, his lips betray him. They were moist and hurried to capture any chaste kiss given. My body leaned deeply into his while feeling a beautiful pain. His hand tugged harder into my hair while the other was leaving indents in my skin. 

His pace was demanding. Filling me up with each thrust. It demanded attention beyond what I was used to giving. It caused me to groan against Nanami’s lips. “Fuck Nanami.” My voice felt small.  He took this as a challenge to make me groan louder. His pace slowed enough to get the burn but not enough to feel the high. I repeated my praise to him.

“You’ll have to be louder than that.” His hand dug into my hair where I let out a cry of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Nanami,” I groaned louder. A resounding smack reverberated around the room. I repeated the curse only to be rewarded with another slap on my ass; however, he let go of my hair. My face fell into the mattress as if it had always been its resting place. One more praise of his name which felt more like I scream made his pace finally speed up. His unaccompanied hand went in between my legs to find my clit. His coarse fingers paced the rhythm. The pace was all too much. It was building to the end. I, also, could feel Nanami’s pace suffer as he was getting closer to his edge. 

“Where?” he grunted.

“Huh?” I asked. To be honest, I wasn’t thinking straight. My eyes were closed while feeling the pace. 

“Where do you want me to paint you?” His voice was becoming more off kilter as if he was trying to race his own high. I was so close. Almost too close. My hands gripped the bedsheets like Nanami did only minutes before. I was focusing on my own high to talk. Drool fell from my mouth as I tried to say words. Finally, I felt the all consuming nature of my orgasm again. Nanami took this to mean inside. His orgasm was hot as he pumped a few loads into me. He groaned my name before finally collapsing to the side. 

The room was filled with the sound of our breath catching up with us. The bedsheets were soiled and in desperate need of a wash. I catch a glimpse of the keys once more. 

“So you did plan this?”

“I wouldn’t say planned. More like it happened.”

Suddenly, a phone’s ringer went off. I knew it was mine, and I knew how deep shit I was in. It was the only person who would put such an obnoxious ringtone on my phone: my boyfriend, Gojo.