Klemen-time - Elysia ♡

Hello! This is hopefully the final time I talk, and from this entire post I will do my best to be clear and out of my cheerful and friendly persona. This is, quite frankly, an itemized list of grievances in my time here that I wish to be sort out. This is not "beef". This is not "drama". I hate it when people describe problems as such when the post is about resolving issues. These are list of broken boundaries I wish would be sorted out. I am not fighting anyone. I am only stating that I wish to be treated better as an okayish writer/artist. Do not fucking attack anyone based on assumptions. I repeat: I am NOT fighting anyone. Get yourself out of that violent and unnecessary impulse and please just listen to what I have to say.

At this point I might just be on my Post-Timeskip Dimitri Arc. But anyways. I will be swearing. I don't want ANYONE giving advice. I just need you to listen and understand.

Let's start.

First point: Requests.

There's a TikTok-ification of Tumblr, it seems. And I'm not even using Tiktok to know what it is. Requests of part 2s in particular, irks me the most. But first off: I do not wish for a witch hunt. I swear to fucking lord if you do that I will block you.

This is why you'd rarely see part 2s in my masterlist. Because every time I do it, the requester does not comment. It is frustrating since if you've seen my works and not just interacting for the sillies because you think it's fun to be unhinged (Lord give me strength.), you might notice I take ample time to research, open wikis, and add lore to the story. Some writers' strength is to write poetically and make even a scene about brushing teeth feel so compelling, whereas I think my only decent skill is to come up with weird ideas and connect them. And it takes time, that's why I write oneshots with a complete plot. Fuck, it takes so much fucking time. Especially since I insist on doing things my way and drawing the headers too. So when there's radio silence, it's absolutely insulting.

But I think what insulted me the most was the time I stayed up till 5 AM to finish a request and made even the header moveable and all I get is "thanks, not what I wanted" I just. I. You didn't even pay me to do this, all I ask is idk, more words than that? I wrote 6k words and even did a colored drawing and that's it??? But I don't tell people I am insulted. I don't tell people that shit feels fucking vile. I wasn't raised to cuss people out. I grew up believing in a higher existence.

But now I'm convinced I'm not kindhearted.

I'm WEAK hearted. And I fucking hate myself.

And don't you dare tell me I'm not because when someone sent an anon ask telling me to kill myself you know how I replied??? I told them that we should talk because I'm worried that this sort of behavior will harm them one day.

Here's an old screenshot since tumblr's search system is a bit wack.

WHY THE HELL WOULD ANYONE REPLY LIKE THAT. THATS LIKE GETTING STABBED AND SAYING "DO YOU WANT THE KNIFE BACK?"

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

WHY DO I ALWAYS LET BLATANT DISRESPECT HAPPEN TO ME WHILE I SMILE???

DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW?

HOW MUCH OF A PUSHOVER I AM? HOW MUCH I DON'T PRIORITIZE MY OWN WELL-BEING?

THAT I NEVER TELL ANYONE WHENEVER I'M HURT BECAUSE I'M AFRAID OF HURTING THEM INSTEAD?

I don't want to be mean. I just don't. But I'm doing my best to be mean in this post because civil dialogue has not worked on my case for a while now.

I'm sorry if this hurts you.

But this is one of my many problems I've been losing sleep over so I just want to solve this one and be done with it.

Second point: complete disregard for boundaries.

I don't. Fucking know why. People send me horny shit in my ask box and I don't even answer it I just delete them immediately. I don't wanna hear about how you would tie up someone and do things to them. Maybe I'd get it as a joke and post the ones I'm almost positive are jokes but I can't read some as one. I can't. I don't even wanna explain more since I'm not sure if I'm a sex-repulsed ace just yet. I remember back then during the OCMC era of this blog I repeated like thrice that I'm ace in thirst anon asks but I still get em anyways. I do not understand this. What part of my personality makes that seem fine??? I don't get it. I don't get it at all. I'm not a rizzler. I am nothing like that.

Third point: "before you send asks, do you actually read my writings?"

This problem reached its height before that I made @faceless-ayato (now @dain-speaks) so I can categorize interactions and fics. Some people during might remember that idol au era. Or maybe not. Who knows.

It is not funny how many times close friends have told me my asks sound like people talking more about themselves and their lore and not any of my stories. Like. 80%. I'm not sure if that's Tumblr culture. Just correct me if I'm wrong.

Just something examples:

Just. Be real with me. Do not vote just to make me feel better.

Because why do I get nonsense stuff. Why the hell did I get an ask saying if I'd hold their hands while pooping? What is this? Tf is that about? Why did I get an ask about crazy room rubber duck? Am i too fucking old? I got several copy pastas of some twitter shitpost even way before the diluc theme and i don't even use twitter. I don't have a Twitter.

I think what broke me is when Navi told me whenever they look at my posts they wonder how I'm not in my villain arc yet. I thought it was just my two close irl friends who felt that way. I thought they were just a bit overprotective and over thinking thinks.

But I think it's clear I'm not actually being respected by some anons.

Most are just looking for enablers. When I open up about my own struggles, my fucking grief for losing the only person that understood me and having to hold their corpse one last time, my announcement that some of the new fics won't be dark and will have compliant readers because of my mental state. What do I get? Ansy, could've been darker.

That's the fucking reason why I made a theme poll. Because if I can't be treated like a person, I'll just give some other character the clown mask. I'm so sorry I can't fuck around anymore. Now you're finding out why.

I just doubt it so bad. It hurts how much I'm doubting that readers actually read. I feel like such a clown. What if all this time I'm proud to be a writer but people just see me as some caricature all along??? I legit can feel my heart grow heavy. I'm not okay with this. You can tell when I get an ask compliment I draw something as thanks too. That's how much I am grateful for that random drop of water. It hurts so bad. I wish I can word this better, I'm a writer damn it but it hurts. I'm fucking crying. Did people even properly read the times I neatly laid out the reasons why I'm not okay before? Do I have to be so emotional for people to understand? I laid it down on several occasions nicely, organized and definitely more professional than this.

You know my situation is fucked when only mutuals and fellow content creators are the ones who read my posts. I think this is because as a generation, this is no longer writer-reader relationships but a cold creator-consumer one.

Who am I to the rest of you grandkids? The Wendy's twitter account? Is that still a thing? What the fuck is happening. Why aren't I treated with human decency as other yandere writers? Where did I fuck up? Is it because I treat you guys as friends? Fucking tell me. Don't give me advice. Tell me where I went wrong and just that.

I will tell you my biggest fucking insecurity since childhood that I don't bring up often: I don't think I'm a "complete" human. Not some fucked up scifi unbelievable bullshit but I feel like there's always something MISSING— like it's harder for me to understand social cues than other people— like it's harder for me to process my own emotions. I won't go into details, maybe it's something undiagnosed- but that's why since day 1 I call myself a gremlin. I don't even tell you guys much about this because I want this blog to be a creative writing space where I can feel safe. But where did that led me.

So to be treated like some haha funni machine even when I'm being genuine hurts so much. It hurts. And the worst part is this is 100% my fault. And now I have to open up about this to get it to people's head.

Alright

That's all.

Here's your cup of ansy-tea.

I promise you won't hear from me more than you have to. I'll do my best to guarantee the rest of the posts are Diluc and writings.

I hope you all have a wonderful day!!! If you read this till the end, thank you. I appreciate you a ton! It means a lot to me. And genuinely please don't give me some advice. I already received plenty and finally listened to years of persuasion to just have this "villain arc". If you gave me one, I'll just assume you skimmed through everything and it'll make me feel even worse. Thanks!

Seriously. Tumblr isn't my only life. This is just one of my many problems (though it's mostly money lol). Don't make it seem like it is.

THEY KILLED THE TEACHER THE STUDENT AND THE DOCTOR

The hashtag #Jenin went viral on social media in Palestine after the Israeli forces broke into the city and the the camp in it today's morning and committing a massacre killed 7 people and over 12 injuries including a doctor a teacher and a student.

General surgery specialist Assid Kamal Jabarin was killed and inside of the hospital.

Teacher Alam Jaradat whom was going to school for his job was also killed .

And the student Mahmoud Amjad Hamadna.

We don't see any Hamas, or any threats, no we're not even in Gaza, and yet here they are killing Palestinians just because they can.

Reblog if you’d be okay if your friend came out as transgender

let’s see how many transphobics we can weed out

＃𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙇𝙇𝘼𝙍𝙊𝙉 𝙃𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙎 ⠿ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 HEADCANON

✶ ! [ 578 words ]

✶ ! [ CW: dark content, yandere themed, unhealthy obsession, overprotectiveness, stalking, potential ooc, written by non-fluent english speaker. ]

✶ ! [ Uniquant's Note: This abomination has been sitting in the basement for a month... I'm quite cringed at how messy the original hcs was, so it took me fairly a long time to make it acceptable (to me at least). Anyway, I hope u enjoy my monstrosity ♡ ]

✦ Request Status: Open

✦【 Type: Overprotective, devoted 】

: Let's start with how or what the weapon itself sees in you, shall we? Well, just like any other weapon, he himself needs a master in order to have any purpose in existing. And in this case, the master of this particular weapon is you.

: Weapon and master bond are quite complicated to break. The master needs their weapon to protect themselves and the weapon needs the master to have use of them thus care for them.

: When someone threatens its bond, it's either up to you, the master who should command your Blade to rid of such interloper or he'll purge the foul soul himself till they depart unto the afterlife. Oh also, he's a unique weapon. Under certain circumstances, he would moves on his own to protect his master. How marvelous is that?

: Now let's move to how he behaves. He follows you everywhere. To the highest mountain peaks of the Divine Ship, to the bottomless pit of lies built upon the Dreamscape, he is right there, guarding your back from any potential misfortune charging in your way.

: He thinks he is not quite worthy of your attention yet he won't let others bask in it either. Such an abomination like himself shouldn't even breathe the same air as you, yet he appears unwilling to leave your side anytime soon due to his obstinacy and selfishness. He convinced himself that he is doing all of this as an effort to keep the mortal wounds which scarred his past self away from you.

: The only moment when he stands the same step as you is when he deems someone 'dangerous' approaching you. Even if you inform him that the said someone is harmless, at least to you. All he would do is back up and glare daggers at them as his sword long unsheathed ready to dig into the interrupter's neck if they dare to even flash any form of hostility toward you.

: Should he act like a sword, then, should he too sacrifice his flesh to protect you. He'd scathe himself only when it's needed of course. He does not want you to worry your hearts out because he was too careless in his previous battle. He might hurt himself a bit more so your attention lingers awhile on him or his wounds. Will stop if you scowl him for it. But alas, he tends to forget things, including your scoldings.

: Once in a while, he is befuddled by how fast his entire world changed. Was his encounter with you part of Elio's script? But at the same time it doesn't make any sense to him, since Elio has always been open about how any part of the script would go. Was The Equilibrium finally witness his suffering and opted to to alleviate his agony by directing his life changing-encounter with you?

: Either way, those thoughts swiftly vanish as he remembered that nothing really matters as long as he is still by your side.

: As a mere weapon, he shouldn't act this way. Yet here he is. YOU tampered with his broken self and infected it with deuced mortal desire. Since he is yours now, shouldn't you take care of him as a good master?

: He is a bit stubborn and rash sometimes. But it's all for the sake of your safety. So, please forgive him and his wrongdoings, if you see it fit, do punish him. For he believes that you could do nothing wrong.

⋯ Copyright © 2024 by Illustrious-ia. Do not plagiarize, use for AI / Bot training, and re-upload outside of Tumblr.

All rights reserved.

I'm just going to leave these tweets here.

Won't delete.

I'm a human before I'm an artist trying to grow audience on social media. The very least that I can do is to utilize my platform to spread awareness and not supporting genocide.

Oh, also last but not least;

palestine and how to help

palestine and how to help

free palestine

do you feel like a young god?

synopsis ☆ blade wishes that his path had never collided with yours.

content info — smut (minors stay away 😡 i'm warning you), ANGST, fem! reader, regular fic but with a twist on the format. violence at the very end so be aware of that.

word count — 2.1k words.

author's note — this has been in my drafts forever. normally i don't write angst but i was listening to halsey's badlands album & it instantly gave birth to this fic. the entire album is so blade coded that it hurts. anyways this is just 100% pain and smut, there is no comfort. nonetheless i hope you enjoy this drabble and its unplanned christmas theme (i apologize in advance 😓) ALSO i'm working on reqs as we speak i swear

BLADE has never had time to entertain romantic affairs, or even indulge in spontaneous sexual encounters. such matters reeked of the kind of superficial sentimentality that he's long discarded due to its blatant, disgusting lack of appeal. since he’s remembered, all he’s ever really wanted is to taste death, to be enrobed within its earnest invitation and to finally relieve himself of his all-consuming burden. there was no room for anything else—especially something as trivial as fulfilling the human heart’s wishes.

YOU didn't plan to get involved with the agenda of the stellaron hunters, but perhaps your hopes were ultimately futile when your older sister was their very leader. really, what's funny was the fact that even though you two were related by blood, and were raised together, you only shared two traits: a sharp gaze tinted with magenta and the useful gift of perception. otherwise, you might as well have been nameless strangers. you were kind, forgiving, and preferred to heal rather than harm; kafka was the complete opposite, her manicured fingers gleefully stained with scarlet.

BLADE remembers finding himself in an unusual state of confusion when he had first met you. your appearance in itself contrasted against your team members; whereas they wore dark shades of black, purple, and red, you were clad in smooth clothes of pure silver, which didn’t make sense since they would end up dirtied and tainted either way. he remembers disapproving of your very presence because you seemed entirely unfit to fulfill your job—to kill mercilessly and to follow elio's script without an ounce of remorse or hesitation. "you don't belong here," he'd sneered, his vexation only increasing when he saw the docile smile you'd given him in response.

YOU weren't ever truly angered by the blatant acts of disrespect that blade displayed during the earliest stages of your connection. some would argue that you possessed the patience of a saint, and though you wouldn't exactly disprove such a claim, you'd say that it extended far beyond that. there was something you saw behind the scarlet hue of blade's gaze, something that lain dormant behind all the hostility. for a reason unknown, you soon grew the desire to discover it, and to maybe in turn help the man in some way. it didn't matter if a part of your soul had to be sacrificed—you would do it.

BLADE found it all too easy to decline your attempts. it was a continuous, repetitive process, where you’d seek him out and offer a few questions that seemed unassuming at first, and he’d respond by pointing out the obvious holes ruining your facade. he didn’t know why you were suddenly so eager to uncover information about him—or, to “properly acquaint yourself” as you’d innocently described it—but he didn’t care either way because it wasn’t worth trying to. at least those were the words he told himself for the first four months.

YOU managed to break down the weakest parts of blade’s walls by the fifth month. it was slow, and arduous, and yes, a bit frustrating—hearing him curse you out wasn’t really a motivating experience—but ultimately your efforts prevailed in the end. finally, if only a little bit, he opened up to you, and he began giving short but actual responses instead of a mere grunt or a simple click of the tongue. and so he started filling in small snippets about himself. how he found pleasure in the familiarity of a sword. how he despised the way your sister called him ‘bladie.’ how kuding tea was one of his preferred drinks. how he couldn’t remember the last time he dreamt in his slumber.

BLADE was rather astounded by the change in behavior you seemed to have withdrawn from him. at first he denied the reality and brushed off the occurrence as him simply taking the easier route, so that he didn’t continue to waste unnecessary effort on dodging your pesky questions. but here was the truth—he wasn’t lazy, ever. he always did things for a reason, always justified his actions with some kind of logic, no matter how immoral. something strange was happening, and he wasn’t entirely sure why, but he still tried to maintain a form of apathetic distance. blade convinced himself that things were remaining strictly professional. even as his pale hands somehow found themselves entangled within your soft hair during one stormy night, and even as his chapped lips pressed against yours.

YOU were surprised but not at all unwelcoming of the unorthodox suggestion that blade gave you one day. in a tone that betrayed no emotion, he asked—well, perhaps demanded—that you two enter a sort of arrangement that he called “being each other’s respective stress relief.” in a more straightforward, explicit manner, you two would use each other for physical pleasure whenever needed. that was where the intimacy started, and it was where it ended. with your heart beating a bit more than it should have, you agreed. blade smiled—a small, predatory kind of smile—before engulfing you in a harsh kiss, backing you into the wall as his hand squeezed around your neck.

BLADE relished the sounds that he was able to elicit from you—sweet, pretty little moans, desperate, high-pitched whines, and of course, the breathless mantra of his own name. every ounce of it made him swell with smug pride, and made his cock harden even more. your eyes would shut tightly whenever you felt particularly overwhelmed with pleasure, and of course he’d always force you to open them. after all he needed you to see just how much of a slut you were for him, just how much he’d ruin you with the marks he’d leave all over your skin and the countless orgasms he’d trigger within you. somewhere in the very back of his mind, there was a faint voice that warned him of the territory he was threatening to cross, just barely short of touching the edge. but he ignored it in favor of savoring the depraved sense of exhilaration that electrified his veins, knowing that he was the one corrupting his colleague’s sweet, innocent, naive little sister.

YOU found your heart beating impossibly faster every time your lips met his, every time he quietly snuck into your quarters and whispered things that were only for you to hear. of course it was only inevitable that you fell in love with the man himself. long forgotten was your goal to solely fix him because in a strange, almost twisted way, it was like you were healing yourself with every scorching touch of his fingers, every relentless thrust of his hips. and for better or for worse, it felt like he was starting to care for you against all odds, and you saw it through the littlest of things. how his dull scarlet eyes seemed to brighten just for a second when he saw you, how he started to stay the night after he ravished you, how his fingers traced your beautifully bruised skin with an uncharacteristic gentleness when he thought you were asleep. you loved it, and soon his embrace was the only thing you learned to crave.

BLADE seemed like he was caught in a peculiar trance ever since you two had agreed to the "stress relief" arrangement. it was unimaginable, really—or at least it should have been. not once had he felt such unbridled emotion for a woman, or for any person in general. he detested the sensation at first. hated how vulnerable it made him feel. so, whenever he felt particularly exposed, whenever you smiled at him for too long, he used your body as a distraction. he'd mark your skin as if he was nothing more than a mindless animal, would pin both your wrists above your head as he snarled, hips smacking against yours. the strategy would work for some time, but the moment he saw you fall into a peaceful slumber—exhausted from all the rigorous activity—the emotions would come rushing at him again, full force. soon there was a voice at the back of his mind, whispering of how he was falling into a trap. one that he had arrogantly, unknowingly set for himself.

YOU started to feel a shift in blade's behavior, noticing how he became more distant as the days passed. your conversations shortened and shortened until they became almost reminiscent of the ones you'd have at the beginning of your relationship. your nightly sessions dwindled in frequency, eventually reaching the point where he barely even knocked on your door at all. all of it drove you to the brink of insanity, worry consuming every ounce of your being until you couldn't handle it anymore. "what the hell?" you had hissed, pulling the man aside once silver wolf and your sister had retreated to their quarters for the night. "why won't you talk to me, blade? what did i do?" but even that didn't work. all he did was scoff and push past your figure, shaking off your grip when you reached out for him. the next day, you were so distraught that, in a fit of desperation, you asked your sister for help. but the only thing you received was a look of warped pity and an obscure comment. "once the candle burns out, the room grows dark again." kafka murmured.

BLADE couldn't handle any of it anymore, his seemingly endless endurance having reached past its limit. he hated the way you looked at him in confusion and anger, and most of all, betrayal, as if he had stabbed you in the back. he might as well have. but above that, he hated the way you reminded him of his curse's weight. in another life, he had thought of immortality as a gift—a gleaming trophy awarded only to those who had gone above and beyond to prove their superiority. how foolish he had been. immortality was a burden, its pressure so insurmountable that it felt heavier than holding up the sky itself. from the very beginning, he'd known that being immortal meant that he'd have to watch the people around him fall prey to death's embrace, but somehow that simple fact evaded his mind when he—it still pains him to admit this—developed feelings for you. he wasn't quite sure if what he felt was love in its raw form, but he was pretty damn certain that it was the closest he was going to ever get. because as selfishly and disgustingly sentimental as it was, the last thing he wanted was to see you wither with age, until you were nothing more than another corpse. and so with a shaky breath, and an unstable heart, he decided to handle the situation in the only way he knew how to.

the truth was that YOU truly were one of the most perceptive people out there, even as heartbreak dulled your senses. so you heard the muted footsteps and saw the swiftly approaching shadow. you knew who it was, even without sparing a glance. still, you remained motionless, your movements almost painfully frozen as your eyes slid shut. tears silently rolled down your face, staining your skin even before the sword pierced through your chest. crimson seeped through your silver blouse like ink on a blank canvas. you fell to the ground, exhaling unshakily, unrivaled pain blooming within every inch of your body. you felt the strength being drained from your spirit, but you mustered the will to meet blade's scarlet gaze. "guess i should have expected this, huh?" you murmur, fingers moving to feel where he'd stabbed you. silently, blade crouched down to your level, his expression unreadable. you reached for his hand, neither of you flinching when his skin became stained with your blood.

"all of this was a mistake," BLADE muttered, tone betraying not even an ounce of emotion. still, he kept his fingers intertwined with yours, and that action alone was enough. "my fate is already determined, but you sealed your own the second you approached me." the wind was cold and unforgiving around the two of you, its invisible talons recklessly combing through the man's ebony strands of hair. but blade paid it no mind, not even when a particularly harsh gust threatened to overwhelm your last words. and as time would tell, those were the very words that would haunt him in the future.

"i'd seal my fate over and over if it meant that i'd see you happy again." you whispered, and for once you failed to notice one crucial detail.

for the first and last time, blade's vision grew blurry from his tears.

i still can't fathom how people can look at this

then still fucking side with isnotreal over 40 fictional beheaded babies

𝐀 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬

syp. an unfortunate victim, captured and enslaved by the diciples of the abundance, your existence reducing to an experimentation, imbued with the supposed potentiality of harnessing the abilities of an aeon; releasing your tethered state out into luofu's civilization that endagers one of the xianzhou alliance's grand hexafleets.

cw. honkai impact 3rd inspired, multiple povs, very long read, aeon/herrscher!reader, takes place after xianzhou arc, canon interactions, belittlement, negative surroundings, depression, mental health, war, death, suggestive, heavy fighting, gore, possession, trauma

LIs. jing yuan, welt yang, aeons(?)

i. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈 - Does it scare you?

The Astral Express had encountered your unstable state that reigned the bloodied fields of Cloudford, fighting against two powerful factions along with a phantom presence that invaded your mind and whole being.

ii. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈 - The Withering of the Aster

Another problem arises for the subjects of Akivili, while we dive into a flashback of you came to be in the present.

iii. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈 - Descendance and Ascension

The Mara Eruption of 60XX commences in the hands of the Arbiter General, as past wars, forgotten chaos, and the rebirth of an old god grasps the touch of life once more, all through you.

iv. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐕 - The Draught

TBA

v. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕 - Charybdis

TBA

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍

☰ RETURN TO MAIN MENU

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Jesus Christ, minors have become so fucking cocky and self-centred recently.

It feels like every time I open up a +18 tag or go into an adult fandom space, there's all these actual kids running around, telling people they're minors.

I could be wanting to read a smut fic and I'll see a bunch of posts with the text "minor writing smut, don't like, DNI" or something like that.

How fucking stupid are you? Genuine question. Are your grades okay? Do you need to talk to the school counselor? Take a common sense test? Because I certainly think so.

Why are you entering and actively taking part in adult spaces and then using the "umm I'm a minor, so if you do or say anything, then I'm the victim and you need to get away from me, you creep" card when you get called out on your bullshit?

These adult spaces are not for you, GET THE FUCK OUT! Go sit in the corner and think about what you've done!

Teens will teen. They'll find adult material one way or another, I am fully aware of that. Hell, I'm guilty of reading smut when I was a teen. But when I did, I never told a soul.

I've had accounts run by minors as young as 13-14 interacting with my NSFW posts. And they're somehow bragging about this. Of course, I block them immediately, but I am shocked at how brazen these kids are, to have the gall to do this and think it's okay because "they're mature enough."

No. You're not. I promise you.

Becoming an adult isn't about reaching some arbitrary number. It's about learning to take responsibility for your actions. So take this advice and GET THE FUCK OUT OF ADULT SPACES! YOU'RE NOT WELCOME!

I don't care how much anon hate you kids send my way to try and get me to kms or deactivate. By all means, give me your best shot. But if you seriously think I am going to just let you do this without realising your actions have consequences, you need to be sent to the psych ward across town.