#i'm moving this week

[wokewerewolfagainstcapitalism]

I binged the entirety of Silt Verses in about a week and I must scream.

Because YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, Faulkner isn't the worst of them. He is just happening on screen.

The things Carpenter did for the parish, the way she carries herself, the way she's easily the most experienced killer in this story - Faulkner's body count is like. Noob numbers.

(Glottage doesn't count)

Hayward! Was a cop! A COP in the torture and sacrifice people the state doesn't like capitalist hellscape.

Paige--

Okay, Paige just handed out cocoa and asked her coworkers "are you okay" after mass layoff sacrifice and the left work, so she's an angel, never did anything wrong in her life, victims of her god absolutely had it coming.

Anyway, part of why the metaphor of capitalism in tsv works so well is that it's impossible to live in this world and not cause awful harm, not at least profit from someone's horrible death and the horrors that come before it.

This is a show about people who do terrible things because the world is built in a way that makes your every move painful to countless other people. Your electricity is powered by human sacrifice ffs.

And Faulkner for all his awful not good at all terrible choices isn't the worst of the characters, isn't irredeemable. He's just the youngest and goes through his killing era on screen.

(also, can't stop thinking about how Carpenter killed a man for Mason, knowing full well that's because Mason needs his private dirty business done and Faulkner killed Mason THE MOMENT he deemed him a traitor)

All this is to say I don't think he dies here. I don't think this story is about punishing Bad People or even about milking the most drama out of very well-crafted sequence of events and characters. I think it's about desperately trying to build, to become something slightly better despite the horrors. And it's brutal in the way it shows us how small and slow the process is. And it's wonderful in telling us how important it is.

[xilianx]

Sometimes it's blessing and a curse that music/soundtracks fuel my writing motivation and scene planning, because either I got no fuggin music I need for days if not WEEKS on end to get the creative juices going or I got the same damn song replaying over and over as imagine multiple scenes down to the fine details and start going feral work because I need to write.

And sometimes it's a track from the Dinosaur (2000) movie OST because nostalgia comes knocking on my Spotify playlists like a mf that I owe money too and I forgot about for years.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Soup solves everything.

[why-the-heck-not]

me, a responsible being, working on the coding project as I should vs. me, a dysfunctional shithead, getting distracted by reading about brains (once aGAIN damnit (it's my favorite "I need to study my field but bc I should do that it's an impossible unthinkable feat now, so I'm reading about something else to fool my brain I'm still being productive"-topic))

[pangur-and-grim]

he is magnetically attracted to blankets and pillows

[dreamlifebunny]

Manifestation is ALWAYS guaranteed once you've made your wish omg. Like, always always always. A few months ago I said, "Goddddd, I am sick of feeling lonely, I need a boy who I can talk to about video game music for hours. We should be able to chat about anything and everything so easily. And have similar formative experiences so we can just get each other. And he should look exactly like this. And he should be super well put together and someone I don't need to take care of. And maybe we aren't even together because I'm not ready for that, but we can just be absolute besties who have crushes on each other. Yeahhh. Okay, anyway."

Moved on with my life, sometimes thought about it, quite often felt lack about it or heartache over not having friends like this, but always just daydreamed about this imaginal person.

GIRLLLLL, when I tell you that a few weeks ago I met this guy who I used to have a tiny crush on years ago that I totally had forgotten about?? He had a girlfriend at the time that I met him, but now he didn't. We bonded over video game music (especially my current hyperfixation) and made plans to hang out. Last night I hung out with him, and he made me frickin' SOUP in his fancy apartment and we talked about video game music for FOUR WHOLE HOURS. And he played piano soooo fucking well, and had the same experiences as me with music and video games growing up. And he looked EXACTLY like how I imagined him in my mind. God, and he's absolutely adorable, but I'd also be happy if we were just friends, since he's fulfilling my little crush quota. Like, what the fuck? Ask and it is GIVEN.

Whenever I "doubt" the law or I'm feeling lack or anything like that, stuff like this always brings me right back to the reality that I am god and there is nothing that I cannot be, do, or have. It always makes me feel so silly for forgetting my power; I'm team-working with an amazing creator (who in reality is just me, there is no separation) who brings about everything I want, in the exact perfect way, and all I had to do was make a silly little decision filled with hope and fun and love. It's not my responsibility to figure out the how or when, and that makes it fun. It's always guaranteed. It will not be late. It will always be perfect.

Make a wish and let it unfold. You'll be so happy that you did.

[buglaur]

wanted to make a render to get back into the hang of things

[adustoflove]

Having bpd to me is like I'm the loneliest person on the planet, no matter how many people I talk to, no matter how many connections I make or have, I'm a lonely void who will die alone. I have to be talking to someone or with someone every second of every minute of every day. I love people so much, I need people. There's so many people out there with different things to teach you. And then, if I have to talk to one person for more than 6 seconds today, I'll kill them. I'll kill myself. I need to be left alone for the rest of the day, I need no one but myself to be happy. I don't want to partake in anything with anyone because it's all draining and taking out of my alone time. Everyone is the same, they're all boring and self-absorbed. Every conversation feels like I'm forcing myself to be actively present. I just want to be alone in my room with nothing or no one. I don't see a future where I'm happy with anyone other than being by myself.

[hoshigray]

Yuuji talking with Megumi, telling him he doesn't blame him for being shut down during all this, Megumi sharing his dream of a happy life, Yuuji telling Megumi it's lonely without him around, and Meg's assist with the shadow leg pull, I honestly can't fucking do this right now

[ineed-to-sleep]

Grabbed a couple templates and drew my touchstarved mc again heehee

Relationship chart template that I used is here <3

Intro and flower templates are from the official rss site

[deoidesign]

when your main characters start dating after years of writing so they finally get to be like this

[soft--dogs]

*crawling out of my depression hole to slough my terrible sludge body back into a vaguely human form* who wants to see som furry ballss?????

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good Morning, World.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[undead-knick-knack]

Cat of the Week as decided by Dorian

[becca-e-barnes]

Cannot stop thinking about making a really submissive Bucky cum until he can't anymore 😵‍💫

I love the thought of working load after load from him and the way that he'd go from being pretty quiet and composed to whimpering and writhing, unsure if he needs more or less of your touch.

Getting him to a stage where he feels empty. He feels like he has nothing left to give you. You've made him watch as you jerk him off with a delightfully lubed hand, squeezing and tugging until his cock is twitching and throbbing and shooting thick, messy stripes of cum against your palm. You don't stop after he's finished though. His release only makes the glide of your hand smoother and the sight of his own pearly cum being worked back over his cock makes him hard again in no time.

"Please." He groans, throwing his head back, exposing his beautiful throat. Your hand tightens around his cock involuntarily and you find yourself almost wishing you had your other hand around his neck. "Please don't make me cum again. I-I can't."

Bless him, his strong thighs are twitching, his muscles tense, trying to force his body to listen to his brain for just a second.

"Sweetheart, I don't think you're empty yet. You gave me so much cum just a few minutes ago." You let yourself give in just a little, leaning over and kissing along the column of his throat, enjoying the light salty perspiration against your lips.

Bucky rolls his hips but it's hard for him to tell if he's trying to lean into your touch or away from it. In truth, he loves feeling like this. He loves having his cum milked from him and having no choice but to enjoy the mind numbing pleasure of your body.

His thighs are streaked with evidence of his own lust and he's almost ashamed that he's still hard. Not just as hard as he was when you started though.

"F-Fuck." The slick sound of your hand pumping him quickly is overwhelming. Your grip is tight on his shaft while you cup his balls, squeezing and teasing them gently, encouraging them to work overtime for you.

"I can't cum again. I can't." Bucky pants, whimpering when he forces his eyes to meet yours again.

"You told me that last time. I'm not sure when you decided it would be a good idea to lie to me but I promise you, it isn't." Your tone would make him tense but he's tense already, trying to hold back an orgasm he truly doesn't need.

"This is the last orgasm I want from you. You can manage it for me, can't you?" You sound so sincere this time, he can't help but agree.

"Good boy. Now cum nice and hard for me. I want to hear how pathetic you sound."

For the next few minutes, there are no sounds except the delightfully wet sound of your hand working lube and cum against his dick and the frantic moans of a man reaching a level of pleasure that verges just nicely on painful.

When he does cum, you let it splash against your palm once more and you notice how little he's able to provide you with. He's entirely empty, legs shaking but babbling how grateful he is for the way you touch him.

Now that he's spent, it feels like your turn to enjoy yourself while he watches and nothing sounds better than touching yourself with the hand that's covered in his cum.

[sparrowsparadise]

Astarion in the sun

*do not re-upload without credit

*credit to @casualya for a beautiful reference pic