Please Understand - Blog Posts

you’re 20 but won’t write about men older than you? are you fr lmao

I’m assuming u mean cuz I didn’t include seungmin and i.n in the one last post??? That’s not because I dont write for them that was because I just wasn’t sure about them and didn’t have ideas that’s why I said in the post on the top that I might add them later if I get inspiration for them I guess. I wrote it like right on the top so you know before reading that I didn’t include them.

It’s not because I feel uncomfortable writing for these two like that I just wasn’t sure and maybe a bit out of ideas so please be so nice and give me time might add them in the next days depending on how much I need to work :)

I need someone else to hear me out and understand.

Would the BSD anime not have gone hard with a 80s-90s Japanese City Pop themed soundtrack???

Maybe not for the whole thing but still. The atmosphere would be perfect for it, you cannot deny me that.

Do you ever wonder if running is worth the speed? Is the pounding in your heart worth it in the long run? Because at this point, I don’t know either.

“Licorice!” a small voice cried. I turned back to see my friend, Licorice Cookie being helped up by his little brother Poison Mushroom Cookie. “Come on, Lico! You can’t die here!”

“Not planning on it, Mush! I’ll let all the jam in me spill rather than go back!” There was no arguing with the cloaked cookie. Running from Dark Enchantress was our only mission for survival. If anything, we either escape or we’ll be executed.

The two brothers, once allied with Dark Enchantress Cookie, were escaping alongside me, Red Velvet Cookie? Cake? Cookie Cake? I have an identity issue with that. Once a general of Cake Hounds and Wolves, now I flee for my life from my adoptive mother, who, right now, is fed up with failure and decided to execute us three for incompetence and uselessness. She claimed we did nothing to help her cause and deemed us worthy of death. Mother of the Year.

Either way, Licorice, the older of the two, was aptly named, for even if his locs of dark licorice strands wasn’t obvious, he carries the spicy smell of his tribal people from the Northern shore wherever he went due to the high amounts of it present in his dough. He was experienced in some forms of magic I had only heard about from meetings. He bore his usual dark cloak and necklace of skull beads while carrying his weapon of choice, a scythe made of bone? I never knew what it was. Most of the time, he’s nicknamed Lico.

Poison Mushroom Cookie was the same. A toxic mushroom was implanted into his dough, giving him a natural defense should anyone dare eat him. He would smell or taste like a cortinarius mushroom, sweet but deadly. Luckily, his power is to throw mushrooms that make someone experience hallucinations. Not that he is immune though. He has them himself at times. In our rush to escape, he wore his tiny purple robes and his favorite purple cap with violet polka dots on it. His nickname is Mush.

“Red, move! MOVE!” Contrary to his boney appearance, Lico shoved me hard and fast as we heard the baying of Cakewolves.

My beloved Cakewolves, the ones I have raised from puppyhood, had turned on me and were now seeking my jam. I couldn’t believe it when I saw them suddenly bark and snarl at me like I was an intruder. In fear, I ran with some still loyal Cakehounds in my wake, forcing me to leave my sword behind. Which was probably for the better since I don’t want to hurt them.

Licorice slung his scythe over his back and scooped up Mush as we ran from those ever so close howls. I could feel my heart pounding to deliver more energy to the cells in my muscles. Even so, I was not as fast people would think. The Tower of Sweet Chaos was one singular place. The Berry forests, however, were not. I could traverse them, yes, but not when I was already weak from hunger and scared for my life.

“We have to find those other Cookies!” I yelled to the brothers over the howls. “It’s our only chance for survival! The wolves will keep hunting for us if we stay in the open- Whoa!”

Out of nowhere, a cliff opened up over the sea at the edge of the forest. Luckily, Lico, my still loyal cakenines and I stopped before we tumbled and became soggy cookie dough corpses. Lico held his little brother close to his robes as we inspected the drop. 2,000 feet. We’ll die on impact.

Mush whimpered and clung tighter to his brother. Licorice and I panted heavily as we tossed some ideas.

“Should I summon some servants or that black thing from the Cacao Kingdom?”

“Too risky. Should I become my dragon form?’

“Do you even have control over that thing?!”

“Well, I don’t have any other ideas!”

My dogs whimpered as the howls grew closer. The puppies jumped into my arms and I hid them in the multiple pockets of my jacket. I couldn’t think of anything other than surrendering and praying for the best or jumping and risk trusting my dragon form.

Suddenly, a flash of blood red light appeared out of nowhere and a roar like that of a lion was heard. I’m pretty sure even the far northern Cacao Kingdom heard it.

“Dragon?” I cautiously asked Licorice.

“Do it,” was the reply.

I sigh and breathe out all the air in my cookie lungs. The adult cakehounds scrambled behind Lico’s robes and bit them nervously. I focused on picturing myself as the Red Velvet Dragon, a creature most assume was a creation of mine, a child I made out of the same baking materials as I was made. However, that wasn’t it. Dark Enchantress cast a spell on me that let me become the dragon. And I needed it now to ironically escape her tyranny.

Pain exploded around my body, letting me know it worked. My right arm became more vicious and cruel, my left becoming a mirror of it soon enough. My body expanded, changing from a small tiny cookie to a dragon the size of a witch’s cat. In other words, big. To better describe it, imagine a dragon. Now paint it white and red like a red velvet cake, with red sprinkles on the white. Red spikes on my spine that run from my head to tail, jutting out of the white cream. All while smelling like freshly baked red velvet cake with vanilla creme with cocoa chocolate in my dough. Again, the size of a real cat.

I shook my head and roared as loud as I could, unfortunately, not as loud as my soon-to-be opponent, but I accidentally gave away our position. Some General I am.

I lowered myself so the brothers and remaining hounds could climb onto my spine. I was so very unlucky to be brightly colored like my namesake cake/cookie. White and red weren’t stealthy on a full moon clear night! 

Licorice tried digging his heels into my scales to make me fly as if I was a horse to make me go.”Fly, you buffoon, FLY!!!” 

As if that worked. I was still woozy from transforming on an empty stomach and running beforehand. Actually, transforming in general, whether I ate or not (same with exercise), was disorienting enough for a multitude of too many reasons. I was so exhausted. I just wanted to lay down and nap in either form. But then again, luxuries were rarer than blue moons in my life. I didn’t get them often to recognize them in their glory.

My wings were slow to unfurl. As they reached their full length (the length of a casual open book that a witch would own), the earth began to shudder at a sudden, steady rate. They’re closing in on us! I flapped my wings to get momentum, tired, but determined to escape this mess. I peek over the cliff…

… And jumped over it. Just doing it was enough to make me glide away from the coming Cake Witch, away from the betrayal of my dogs, away from my sadistic sister who tortured others for fun, away from my dead emo brother who took his own life, away from the ancient tower, away, away, AWAY!!! I couldn’t take anymore drama!

The scent of the sea was torture, salt and fish in one massive cauldron of water. Seriously, how can one cookie control all of this?! I was disgusted, even when I tried to focus on the wind flowing around me as I flew.

Flying! Not too often I did this form and even after so many years, flying was always a wonderful experience! Wind, which would often tangle my long dark hair, would now part for me and allow me to forget what made me so scared of others. Just the feeling of freedom through the smooth currents of wind made me feel weightless and liberated from expectations.

The roars behind us faded away to white noise the farther away I flew. If I could talk like a cookie in my dragon form, I would have screamed “Sayanora, jerks!”

Luckily, Licorice did that for me with an extra fist shaking. I let out a chuckle, which sounded like a throaty growl due to my current form. My loyal cakenines growled and snarled behind me, howling at their former members of their pack, shaming them for what they did. Even Mush threw a shroomie, though it fell way short of its mark into the moonlit mess of sea. The message was still sent though. I could only imagine the anger painted on Dark Enchantress Cookie’s face watching this.

I don’t regret my actions. I don’t regret leaving. I don’t regret anything.

you might not understand but I do

in grade 9 I created the best playlist in the world. Through the years I've tried to recreate the same feeling it has but I just can't. My music taste peaked in grade 9. That is so unfortunate.