#Fucking shit

[iggykoopa666]

"some of you are miserable because you're mean" post except its "some of you are miserable because you only look at and talk about stuff you dislike"

[teaboot]

Kind of a random hill to die on rn but "You'd eat this thing you hate if you got hungry enough" does not set a reasonable expectation of what "hungry enough" means for people with food problems.

Like, are we talking "stomach grumbling" hungry enough, or "can't stand up" hungry enough? Cause personally, I can make myself eat a bit of a pork chop if I'm barfy and shaking and can't see straight anymore, but if it's down to "black out for three days and wake up angry and confused" or "willingly swallow prosciutto", I'm having sleep for dinner. And I know this from experience.

People without food problems don't seem to understand this and it drives me insane. "Hungry enough" is for shit like chewing drywall because the alternative is death or cannibalism.

If I say I can't eat something, It means I can't eat it. It Is Not Edible To Me. It's not even appetizing. It literally does not register as food. You might as well hand me a rubber duck.

And it's frustrating!! Trust me, I wish I wasn't like this, too!! This isn't a choice!! I know it can be rude!! It's embarassing!! It's complicated and annoying and irrational!! That doesn't fix the problem!!

I just wish people didn't treat this sort of thing as "being picky" or lacking willpower or basic manners or something. I can't make myself eat certain foods the way you probably couldn't cut your own fingers off. Does that make sense? It's not just food. Fuck

[hustparovoz]

i wanted to do the second sketch colored too but im tired. just got some wild night inspo thats all

slash and ash belong to @itsxroxannex song is Harpy Hare - Yaelokre

[andersonfilms]

eighteen+, mdni.

jock!abby who plays soccer is so head-over heels in love with you, but she promises to keep what you have going just between the two of you. ellie’s your best friend and the two of them can’t stand each other but two months ago at some stupid frat party, too many beers and three joints later abby was eating you out like her life depended on it. you were too high, and she was too drunk but god was she fucking you so damn good. strong arms pinning you to the edge of the bed, as her mouth sucked on your bundle of nerves, before she would let go, letting her tongue soothe over your clit and you moaning her name like a prayer in the process.

jock!abby talks you through it the entire time, and she’s so stupidly pretty with her blonde locks falling over her face like a golden waterfall. her blue eyes are so dark, they’re almost gray and then she has two fingers inside you. they’re thick and long and she’s reaching places you can’t. still, her words making you whine over and over, your hips moving uncontrollably but she pins them down with her brute force.

“Yeah, baby, I know how good this feels. I’m so fucking wet right now from this pretty pussy. You taste so good, baby. I could just eat you up forever. Want me to stay here, crushed by these pretty thighs of yours?”

jock!abby nearly crumbles when she rubs her cunt on top of yours, clits nudging against each other as you practically scream. you know this won’t be the only time you stumble into her bed, you know the next time you’ll be completely sober because god, does abby know how to fuck. she finds a rhythm that’s good for the both of you and she takes control on top. abby can’t help but think about how perfect the two of you fit together, her thighs against yours but she needs a better angle. so, she lifts your leg and places it on her shoulder and you want to come right there.

jock!abby can hear your sweet slick against her, her thighs, god it’s everywhere. she wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve dripped to her sheets, not that she minds. she’s fucking you so hard and you can feel a shiver run down your spine. you want to stay like this forever. her pussy feels so good against yours. you know this shouldn’t be happening. you shouldn’t be fucking ellie’s nemesis but god, the devil has never felt better.

“Be a good girl, baby. Come for me. I’m so close just need to feel your cum on me, need to feel it on my cunt. Please baby, show me how much you want this. Fuck, baby, right there. Yeah? Such a good fucking girl. Fuuucckkkkk.”

jock!abby comes with you, and your body jolts as you feel her slick stick to your swollen lips, it’s so messy and utterly fucking divine, sending both of you into pure euphoria. her biceps are so big, and she holds her weight as she devours your mouth with hers. her skilled tongue staking claim on you. fuck she feels exquisite and her wet pussy is still against yours and you never want her to move. all you want is her sweet, freckled face and the nectar you’re sure tastes delightful as honey, tucked between her thighs.

“You did so well, baby. Now, let’s see how good this pretty cunt takes my cock, huh? What do you think about that, gorgeous?”

[its-your-mind]

what the fuck the novel was his dream and his dream was the novel and he used it to escape his life except he never bothered to dream himself into a happy ending. except the novel was just her desperate, half-conscious attempts to save him, to keep him alive for just one more day so he could read the next chapter she wrote. except it wasn’t ever just a novel at all because it was the millennia-long attempt of one person to finally meet the being that so desperately wanted a person with no history and no past to have a perfect future, a happy ending.

except that novel! was never actually the point! it was just the vehicle some version of themselves all used to get everyone to the start of the story that actually mattered, the story that wasn’t pre-ordained, the story where characters became companions and the reader became the protagonist and the dream of a happy ending for all of them was possible. all of them were there - the reader, the writer, the protagonist… but the reader was just the reader, the writer was a plagiarist, and the protagonist was only at the start of his journey. this story, the real story, the story that hadn’t been written yet, was about how when the world fell to ruin, the only person with the instruction manual on how to survive decided to sacrifice himself over, and over, and over, and… and they made it. they got to their happy ending. but before they did, they learned about the dream. his escape that became a reality. and he didn’t know, he didn’t understand what it was, and so he stepped back, and watched them walk away. because it was the story written for him that caused this much damage, and he had to atone.

but the people who he saved, who he walked with to the end, who turned from characters on his screen to friends and companions who fought beside him, cried when he was gone, screamed at him when he came back, laughed with him, loved him, lived through hell with him, survived because of him… they knew that the story that defined him was not the story that saved him, that he escaped to when it was all too much, but his own story, the story he forged himself. and so dozens of them chose to dive back into hell just to forcefully turn his attempt at an ending, a sentence that ended in a period, into a promise of more to come, a clause that ended in a comma.

and then? the plagiarist who was never a plagiarist at all, but the author who saved him, she sat down and wrote his story. the one he made by their side. they compiled their memories - the memories of the author and the protagonist and heroes and villains and gods and angels and demons and dragons and prophets - into a new novel. and they sent that novel out to the stars to be told, a literal shout into the void to tell him that he was LOVED. that he deserved HAPPINESS. that it was okay for him to REST. that they were waiting for him to come HOME. and they hoped that this story would reach him just as the first had. that he would find it, and he would read it, and it would be the thing that saved him, that kept him alive, and that eventually brought him back to them.

he had promised, after all, to be the first reader of her next novel.

[cnth-rb]

[Esp]

Esa camisa necesita ayuda.

[Eng]

That shirt needs help.

[selineram3421]

I can't get this out of my head so all of you get to deal with it too.

Every time I hear Hozier-Too Sweet, all I can think of is Alastor singing it to the reader.

[raggscat32]

if you could be anything what would you be -> listening to a new album band daddies, pls deliver

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Bringing this back.

Vincent Price as Carl Carmer

Convicts 4 (1962) dir. Millard Kaufman

[iggykoopa666]

patched a hole in my pants

[parttime-creative]

Started the knuckles knives for my Gideon Cosplay. Had the great idea to do the gloves from scratch. The pattern worked perfectly. Mind you, I've never done a pattern before. The sewing of the thumb turned out amazing for the first try. Everything is perfect...

Except...

I made a right glove.

I NEED A LEFT. WHY DID I MAKE A RIGHT ONE. GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. SATAN BLESS IT I ARRRRGHHHH

I'll just go to bed...

[the-better-rainbow-unikitty]

So anyway our house is flooded and well. I'm not ok.

These past two years have felt like an endless race to make ends meet. I've been working full-time, picking part-time jobs like pokemon, donating blood plasma, all the stupid shit you can do to get more money, all so we could afford to pay for everything. We have so many debts. I've been working my ass off in my free time to do as much as possible to make the house nice. And it was hard, we faced so, SO many fucking problems. We had to redo a lot of stuff more than one time, but it finally started looking ok like a week ago and there were just a few more things on the list. Then it's gone. Just like that.

And I mean, I know it's just stuff. It's just stuff and people have it worse and it can all be replaced and we're all fine and we've evacuated and all, but it just feels so unfair. So horribly unfair. I'm not doing ok. Plus it's been raining all night again. This morning I allowed myself to cry for the first time since Saturday. I know I should be positive and keep telling myself it's gonna be ok, but honestly.... I'm starting to feel like I'm not strong enough.

[4attagirl]

I feel suffocated whenever I'm in this house

[hustparovoz]

boi

jinji belongs to me

[fuzzyreviewmoon]

Lol, some Alex drawing

[kanskje-kaffe]