born to frolic

i do love a pervy old man i’m afraid. anybody who could talk about what a pretty young thing reader is, how perverted you must be to want a man old enough to be your father like this, who can chuckle and call you ‘little thing’ and ‘little darling’ and ‘sweetheart’ and have it really mean something . . . just! the corruption kink. the idea that they’re shaping you specifically to their desires and what they want out of your intimate times and to do things the way they like them . . . ouuugh……

hey can you come over and surgically remove this heavy, aching rot from my heart? we can watch a movie afterwards

person (non-practicing)

A comforting thought for anyone feeling stuck right now: fields have to lie fallow for a season so the soil can rest and recover its nutrients. trees look entirely dead in the winter, but underneath the bark, they are preparing for spring. you are allowed to have fallow seasons. you are allowed to be in a winter state. your productivity does not define your worth as a human being, nor does it define your talent as an artist or a creator. if the words aren't flowing, or the art isn't coming together, or you just feel tired—let yourself rest without the crushing weight of guilt. you aren't failing; you are gathering the nutrients you need for the next beautiful thing you make. 🤍

the writer's thinly veiled fetish (being seen and loved at your worst)

I need to write something for Maekar Targaryen or I will perish

(guy who tags every single post as the same exact character) you know who this post reminds me of?

Is that a trebuchet in your pants or are you just happy to siege me