A DD/lg dynamic blog, with overtones of BDSM and whatever else I feel like posting. :P
(This is a sexually explicit blog. If you are under 18, Please leave now. I *will* block people.)
Sometimes, Matilda longed for a friend. Someone like the kind, courageous people in her books. It occurred to her that like talking dragons and princesses with hair long enough to climb, such people might exist *only* in storybooks.
But Matilda was about to discover that she could be her own friend, that she had a kind of strength she wasn’t even aware of.
Sometimes you need to remind yourself that you were the one who carried you through the heartache. You are the one who sits with the cold body on the shower floor, and picks it up. You are the one who feeds it, who clothes it, who tucks it into bed, and you should be proud of that. Having the strength to take care of yourself when everyone around you is trying to bleed you dry, that is the strongest thing in the universe.
I need to remember this, especially right now.
i really like stickers but at the same time i don’t because once you stick them somewhere that’s it, it’s finished, and i’m just not emotionally stable enough for that responsibility
I have been waiting for this post my whole life.
I was trying to explain this to someone one day and they basically told me I was crazy.
I had a pretty bad week. Stuff happened at work, a guy I’d been talking to heard “poly” as “hoebag” and gave me a lecture about how I’m endangering myself and everyone I sleep with, and I’ve been just plain lonely.
Just now, I logged into Fetlife for the first time since the breakup, and the only thing on my feed was my ex-Daddy flirting with another girl and telling her what he wanted to do to her. The only thing. There are, like, four posts.
I cried a little. It hurt a lot. It made me feel sick and sad and even more lonely. I miss him. Just because I know I did the right thing, doesn’t mean I don’t miss him sometimes.
I need a hug and snuggles so badly.
I had to be at work today at 5:30 am for Black Friday. My roommate and I decided (possibly stupidly, I haven’t decided) that it would probably be easier to just stay up all night, since it meant we’d have to get up about three am. So, we drove into the city and went to a show, danced our butts off, and then killed time in a few places that were open that early before hitting Starbucks for coffee and breakfast (and to change clothes in their bathroom like hobos, because we decided it was too dangerous to go home and risk falling asleep.) Then we worked from 5:30 am to 3 pm.
By the time we were done, I was so tired that I’d ceased being able to consistently string together sentences that made sense. I was up for over 28 hours. I came home and ate, and immediately passed out. I woke up again about ten pm.
Now I’m eating again and watching Despicable Me because all I wanted when I got home was for someone to be there to feed me and tuck me in and snuggle me until I passed out. It’s not the same, but it helps.
Seriously, fuck Black Friday.
how do you even go about explaining the dw 50th special to someone
THE DOCTOR MET THE DOCTOR AND THE DOCTOR WHO IS ACTUALLY THE WARRIOR AND THE WARRIOR WAS LIKE I HAVE TO BURN GALLIFREY BUT THEN THE DOCTOR WAS LIKE:
lets put it in a painting
This is the best summary I’ve seen of the 50th Special.
It really hurts, tonight.
I know this blog has been really whiny lately, and I’m sorry, but this is the only place I can really vent. And it really, really hurts tonight. Like, I want to act out I’m so lonely and hurt. Take-home-a-stranger lonely.