#the writing is ok

[wittyno]

Is X-Men: Dark Phoenix a good movie? No. Do I love it? Yes. Would I love a sequel? Yes. Am I going to get a sequel? Probably not.

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[anna-pineappel]

Writing really goes one of two ways:

1. Write 3k words in 30 minutes

2. Takes 3 hours to write 3 sentences

There is no in between

[alphacrone]

thinking about all the “small” art that’s ever existed. songs that were only ever sung in one village. stories written by children that got lost in the shuffle. personal paintings that didn’t survive the test of time. how they affected the lives of just a few, but still existed, still mattered to someone.

[nonebinary-leftbeef]

DEVASTATING the lyric you've been mishearing is better than the real one

[frigidfries]

happy birthday deltarune. happy late birthday undertale. here's a comic!

cheers to best friends forever & ever & ever & ever & ev

[edains]

Rick Riordan constantly trashing the movies for not sticking to his books then releasing a show in which he rewrites everything and loses the spirit of the books entirely

[evilmafuyu666]

[elodieunderglass]

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ imagine riding cowboy!logan. 18+

logan loves how you look when you ride him, particularly tonight, watching his cowboy hat shake every time you slam down on him. he'd placed it upon your head the second you settled down on his cock.

his hands are planted on your hips, kneading the soft flesh there as he watches you pump up and down on his throbbing length. those calloused thumbs rub back and forth against your skin, a silent praise while his gaze through hooded lids remains fixated on you.

he watches, mesmerised, catching small glimpses of your flushed face beneath the hat. it suits you, he thinks, more than it does himself. logan can't quite make out your features underneath the shadow of the brim, but he can hear the moans that slip out each time you let yourself glide down onto him.

"that's it," he coos, "take what you want. . ."

you plant your hands on his fuzzy chest, attempting to gain some leverage as you lift yourself higher, trying to get him impossibly deeper.

"greedy lil' thing, aren't you?" logan groans, lifting his hips on your next fall to really drive into you, "yeah, just like that. . . fuck, you look so good up there for me."

your head spins with his praise, his compliments and you work yourself harder. you clamp around him, eyes fluttering closed as you raise your hand, placing it on the base of his hat to keep it steady on your head.

"c'mon, ride me," he rolls his hips, teasing you as if you're not already working yourself to the bone on his length, "ride me, pretty thing, get yourself off on my cock."

if he didn't feel so fucking good, you'd bite back at his teasing. gripping his hat, you tilt your head back and moan into the air, bouncing with practiced ease. you take him so well, your body remembering every throbbing vein and impressive length.

his eyes drift across your face as you expose it to him, your head tilted back with the moonlight illuminating your features finally. he grins, something about seeing your face twisted in pleasure while wearing his hat has his cock twitching inside you, watching you use him to cum. . .

he'd chase this sight forever, fuck you forever, if he could.

logan promptober day 6 - cowboy

[sttoru]

“c’mon, megumi. tell me what’s botherin’ ya.” satoru pouts at megumi, his arm thrown around the boy’s shoulders. you watch the scene unfold with a tense smile.

megumi was exhausted from school, training and so much more. the teenager’s patience was wearing thin. especially with satoru almost pressuring him into telling you both what’s weighing on his mind. when all he wants is to be left alone at the moment.

the tone satoru’s using to talk to megumi only pisses the high schooler off more and more. it’s fatherly. like he’s still the little child satoru took in and cared for. it pissed megumi off, along with everything else;

“you’re not my dad, so stop fucking acting like you are!”

you freeze. satoru freezes. megumi freezes. time freezes. the silence was deafening. no one was moving. your eyes flicker over to satoru’s and your heart shatters in a million pieces.

satoru’s hurt. so hurt. it’s visible and he’s not hiding it — not hiding it like he usually would behind a wide grin. his blindfold and glasses aren’t there to hide the way his face falls either.

“i know.” satoru whispers. his voice lost its cheery tone, his eyes have lost their spark. the sorcerer slowly distances himself from megumi. a bitter chuckle leaves his lips. a futile attempt to hide his shaky voice, “i know.”

all you could do is stand there in shock. megumi doesn’t know what to do after his little outburst either. and satoru. . . well, satoru is the first one out of the room. you hear his breath hitch as he walks past you. you see his eyes twitch. the strongest, in tears.

[orcaking]

My body is a collection of all the parts that came before! 🌱🌱🌱

[Image ID: A drawing of a trans masculine person, nude except for underwear. The figure has top surgery scars, and no head, the bottom of a jaw bone with plants growing from it floating above the neck. There are flowers, mushrooms, and stars surrounding the figure, and a bird flying to the left of the canvas. /. End ID]

[drgnflyteabox]

mdni - implied fat!reader x bluecollar!simon riley drabble - simon is a bit of a creep also lol

Bluecollar!Simon Riley whose house floods so he has to spend the next few days in a cheap, seedy motel

First morning there he's leaving for work just as the sun is rising. Its hot, humid, and he's a shitty mood because he'll be working all day and it's only gonna get hotter

Simon Riley who smokes a couple cigs before he goes, sitting on a plastic lawn chair on his concrete faux patio when he sees you

You're flustered, damp with sweat and skin sun-kissed. You've got a laundry basket on your hip and immediately he's imagining a baby there instead. His baby.

Simon Riley who's shameless about staring at you struggling with the laundry door, dropping your clothes and giving him a view of your wide hips and plush ass in very short pajama shorts

You're so flustered:(( nearly in tears while you pick everything up. The shorts are a little tight, a little worn, and the thin material gives him just enough of a view of your pussy that it sustains him the whole day :')

All he can imagine is coming back and sinking into you :') not even necessarily fucking right away, but keeping his cock warm and relieving the tension in his body. He deserves that, no?

He's not creeping, necessarily, when he takes note of the lotion you use. Vanilla. He just happened to be having a smoke and walking right by your window, where you've got one foot propped on a chair rubbing it into your skin.

Your room is tidy. Despite the stained walls, cracks in the ceiling and overall dingy-ness, you've managed to make it look cozy.

New sheets, a fluffy blanket, string lights strung across the wall. Beside you, lotions and creams and washes - he snorts a little to himself. The bathrooms here don't have any counter space or mirrors to set them down on.

But his house does. In fact, most of his shelves are empty everywhere. His pantry, his closets. The only thing he's got are work clothes and beers in the fridge. Maybe a stray heel of bread.

Simon Riley who decides he'll have you move in before he even talks to you, before he starts memorizing your schedule on the weekends and evenings he gets home. You're struggling, on the edge of homelessness, but he knows you'd be the perfect wife and mother. That you'd bring light and warmth to his house, fill those empty shelves and empty rooms...

[r-aindr0p]

✨The shroud brothers (and yuu) wish you a happy pride month ✨

[onlinedolly]

tw: HEAVY non con

pervy drug dealer suguru who preys on you cuz youre young n pretty, you’re so unsure but all your friends do it n he promised he’ll be here the whole time for you! ‘sweet thing, ya alright?’ he’d ask when you cough and choke on your spit after your first inhale and he’d smile real wide n creepy when you say you’re fine you wanna keep goin’.

testing the waters after you get real high, too high for your own good honestly, by rubbing up your thigh with comforting words. eventually he gets ballsy enough to lean in and kiss your cheek, ‘oh so cute baby’ he’d murmur when you shy away tellin him you’re uncomfortable with that.

but at this point? you’re really to high to honestly resist him, weak pushes and mumbled words as he scoots closer to you. his hand is ghostin your pretty pink panties and you shudder, trying to clench your thighs around his big hand. you’re cryin at this point, hiccuped sobs and soft pretty little ‘no’s that egg him on.

eventually he’s got his fingers under your panties and for a little thing that’s resisting so much he can’t help but note how wet you’ve gotten. your hand is barely gripping his wrist in a half ass attempt to pull it away, you’re hazy and all you can smell is the sour stench of weed and cigarette smoke wafting from getous clothes. it made you feel sick.

getou’s got his fingers spreading apart your pretty pink pussy, testing the waters as he grazes your clit. getou is usually a mean, rough man, all groping and vulgar words during sex. but you were such a cute little thing, clearly inexperienced and way too high, how could he truly be anything except sickly sweet.

he keeps going then, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck, running his fingers up and down your pretty cunt. ‘i wanna go’, you’d cry out, ‘won’t tell anyone i promise!’ but it’s a little too late for that isn’t it, really? not when he’s this deep, not when he wants nothing more then to see you cum around his fingers. he ignored your pleas, working his middle finger into your tight cunt. and god were you tight. you found a little more of your voice then, wailing in pain as he attempts to get his middle finger knuckle deep inside of you.

‘sweet thing, keep cryin just like that.’ he coos at you, pressing his thumb against your clit. suguru asks if you want another hit then, when you shake your head (as much as you can) he’s already pressing the joint to your lips, fucking his middle finger in and out of you hard making you force an inhale.

getou laughs all mean when you cough again, and after a few moments pass he’s got your pretty little tits exposed pinching your nipples with his free hand. you’re so close to coming around his thick finger, he can feel it in the way you pulse around it. you’re still a sobbing mess, embarrassed at the involuntary moans leaving your lips.

‘gna pee i think!’ you gasp, way too high to understand what was truly happening. getou laughs again, hes got a ruthless pace going, in and out hard as he rubs your clit. when you finally cum it’s the most he’s seen your body moved in a while, you spasm and cry and all he can think is he wonders if you’ll come smoke with him again.

[bunnyboy-juice]

femme as in praying mantis