#anyways today's gonna be fun i can tell

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!!! <333

[kkoct-ik]

finally scratching the skill cabinet itch

[lazycranberrydoodles]

kinktober day 7: swapping clothes

yippee yay xie lian in red! follow 4 more hua cheng bait 🚩

[so-very-small]

the tiny, inside the walls, hyping themself up: It’s totally fine. Everything I’ve seen from this human shows that they’re kind, level headed, and normal. There’s utterly nothing wrong with this human, and I can totally befriend them! I shouldn’t be scared at all!

the tiny: *peeks out hole in the bathroom wall, looking up at the giant before them*

the giant, in front of the bathroom sink, obliviously doing their nightly routine: *removes their dentures*

the tiny, has no concept of what dentures are, who just saw this behemoth remove all the bones and flesh from its own mouth in one swift pull, without a flinch of pain: what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

[peridots-pixiwolf]

sketches from @mipexch 's whiteboard a couple days ago!!

also feat. a very small reference to @onlineviolence :]

[weezerlvr228]

now i’m getting up and leeeeeeavin

[skitskatdacat63]

Boy King Seb :D

[aromanticdayout]

so i went on a date today.

[boomerang109]

(guy who’s literally nocturnal): i didn’t realize i was doing that badly

[pleasedontcareaboutme]

i think i finally realized why ive been feeling so damn depressed lately again

sorry for writing this here. im really hurting actually. im not good. i feel a bit helpless too. idk who to talk to bc i dont want to burden anyons and i donf feel like anything could console me right now

Like. fuck me man. thanks for saving me but. why the hell are you not here. i dont want to do this without you. i hate only being able to remember you. i was supposed to grow old with you, not without you.

And. honestly. even with all this bullshit i say here, all the endless times i spend trying to write down my feelings, abt you, about all the pain ive felt my life, it doesnt get better. not at all. and no words, no poetry takes it away and i truly feel like nobody will ever truly understand how suffocated i felt all my life.

and i want to change thanks to you but. i dont know. nothing's satisfying enough.

no matter what, i truly only feel great when im in that daydream like world you created.

and these past days ive been thinking a lot that. i really wouldnt mind dying right now. not at all. because at least i know what happiness feels like. and i want to stay in that state. probably, even in this life your music will bring me happiness, but i want to be trapped in it.

im tired of being so unseen, and even when im seen, im hurting. but i dont know whats hurting. i think im just really tired thats all.

and. ye. i feel brave tbh. i still havent posted my video to instagram, bc im not brave for that. i dont know. and i feel like a hypocrite bc everything is true that i wrote there but at the same time these are my thoughts currently

in a long while i looked up suicide methods again. i feel so hopeful, but im not really sure if really for the future. jm sorry this is probably alarming. i will probably not kill myself but. idk. im not sure actually. i dknt know what to say. i wasnt cut out for this wordly shit.i feel unlovable but even if im loved, i donf want to be. i dont want anything. just let me stsy in this quiet place snd just. disappear. i wouldnt want my family to hurt if i die but i wont know about it anyways. idk man. i feel strongly i could die calmly this time and thats nice. bc 6 years ago i was terrified, and hurt. but now im content and kind of ready idk man. its not a terrible feeling, its a "this is it, it was nice while it lasted" ig.

there are no clouds in my head actually. i truly dont feel like im thinking irrationally, i feel like this would just be like. the end goal i was looking for. to feel true love once. it was nice.

no goodbye yet bc idk how id kms even if i do. But ill tell u guys if i found something.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

delighted to report that one of my all-time favorite pastimes CONTINUES to be nerfing the absolute shit out of lucius and watching him figure out how to win Anyway :)

in related news: four (4) hours of writing time on this random-ass wednesday fixed me, more news at 11

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333

[aro-aizawa]

me, whenever i figure a plot twist in a 20 year old anime: oh wow i am SO big brained rn i am such a genius

me, two minutes later, conpletely blindsided by a major plot twist:

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 19

"Let Me Drown" by Orville Peck

[eyrieofsynapses]

so many fic authors talk about how the Force screams, sings, rings, etc., but I hardly ever hear hide nor hair of how it feels when it does that, so… have a snippet I wrote to explore that. no context, just this:

when the Force screamed it was a shudder, heart-deep, as though horror had picked you up by the scruff of your neck and shook, the way disgust rattled your bones and filled your throat with bile. it was an electrocution, it was being pinned down with frozen limbs while someone pressed a burning brand to your skin, it was the universe itself rocking with unspeakable pain.

and when it sang—oh how it sang, and that was perhaps the best way of putting it, the indescribable high of music that resonated with your soul and stood the hairs on your arms up on end. it was standing in a cathedral when the choir's power met the orchestra, met the air's waves, met your eardrums, met your mind, met your heart. it was the carnal pleasure of climax, the blossom of perfectly brewed tea or a favorite dessert on the tongue, the fuzzy softness of a faultlessly woven blanket, the shock of awe at a shooting star. it was the pluck of a string in the depths of your body that you barely knew was even there, a flawless harpist strumming at your chords.

and when it whispered, it wasn't a whisper so much as it was an image at the edges of your vision, something you had forgotten that now floated a finger's breadth from your grasping hand. it was the strains of a conversation in the room next door that just crept in through the crack in the door. it was the knowledge of skin millimeters from yours, barely not touching, yet so close it was impossible not to know it was there. it was the hair rising on the back of your neck. it was glimpsing the blurred words on a sign that was too far away to be read properly, yet knowing what they said anyway, your mind unconsciously detangling shapes into words and phrases.

and when it shouted, it was not a yell in your ears but in your ribcage, rattling your lungs and organs, the rumbling pound of your heart thudding too loud, a flush of adrenaline that raced through your veins and snared your breath and shook your hands and shivered your skin and shocked you to the bone, left your knees as jelly and your eyes rolling wild as a colt first mounted.

a Force-shout wasn't an order, it was an unearthly demand that you listen—not a promise that if you didn't hear you'd be destroyed, but the utter and complete certainty that you would know what it wanted you to comprehend.

and when it wept…

the Force's sorrow was a grief that was not a flood, not an ocean, but floating in the center of a moon with a core of molten water. it was all-consuming—nothing else was thinkable—it was the drowning nothingness of depression turned up a thousandfold. it did not draw tears from your eyes but instead stole every drop of breath out of your lungs and drug you to the ground in a millisecond.

there was no room for a single spark of a sentient being to cry mere saltwater tears; it was the suffocation of the soul, racking chills that shocked you from star-hot to atom-still-cold in the space of a nanosecond. it was the bending of your ribs into your heart, bones shattering like glass stretching over the course of a hundred years. it came of the universe that knew its heat-death would come some day and did not shake in that knowledge, yet despaired not only sentient lives but the eventual cooling of the very last star.

so…

what was it to feel each of the Force's delighted sentient nerves, each sensitive that acted as a way to taste and touch and know itself, torn out of its body in an eyeblink?

what scars does it leave upon one's soul—whether you be minutes or centuries old, whether you have felt the deepest grief or only know the pain of exposure to the world beyond the womb—when you are one of those nerves, and know in intimate, gross detail how the universe felt when your thousands of fellows were ripped asunder from the fabric of its present? when your mouth is filled with the rotting copper blood of the death of something infinite?

and what does it do to a person, when you are woven so that when the strings of the universe are plucked, it is not only your mind that is aware of it, but every centimeter of your skin, ever drop of blood in your body, every neuron, every tiny mitochondria, every bit of bacteria that keeps the ember of your being burning, every atom of yourself shivers in sympathy with each swaying step of the vastness of everything that has ever existed?

[non-un-topo]

Lately all I’ve wanted to write is dark stuff, but not in the fun way. I think it’s the mental illness acting up again.