#yeah i'm all over the place

[studentbyday]

uuuggggghhhhnnnggghhhuhuhuhuhuhhhhhhhhh

[birdkeeperklink]

I miss Sugarcult :(

I should listen to them again

Bc when they said "don't take from me, my heart is barely beating - don't take from me, I'm falling down, all I wanna do is lie in bed with you, all I really ever need is you, all I gotta do is give up all I have to be with you" and also when they said "how long I'll stay just to say goodbye, say goodbye, leave it all, the fights and all, summer's getting colder, drive all night to hold you tight, back to California, days went by, we waited and I guess we're getting older" it was so important

[collophora]

Do yourself a favor and go read the entire fanfic work of @fanfoolishness

(In order: Under sun and shade, Blind Side, and Breathless (patching up is one of my fav too, I just had no cool sketch idea for it)

[wardingshout]

Travelling for Day 4 of SpeSilverWeek! going to Mt. Silver to visit "the extended family"...

[cecoeur]

[seance]

THE MUSKETEERS 10TH ANNIVERSARY REWATCH / fave episodes [1/?] ↳ SEASON 1, EPISODE 3 / commodities (x,x)

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[introspectivememories]

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

I guarantee that girl is still riding this high

[kaisollisto]

(Based off of the reality of having a metal ring in your back as a constant reminder of your fate and how that affects you as a person set in the Switzerland arc)

“Does it hurt?” 

Ava’s pressed face down into the pillow sleep curling around her limbs. She hums, she can’t remember what she says, she’s exhausted. Her arms are tangled beneath her pillow. She holds her fingers tightly between each other, her bones ache from the pressure but her hands no longer shake. Ava hasn’t experienced this before, a fear that haunts her at night. (She finds she cannot stop dreaming about dying. It’s stifling in the cover of night trying to figure out where she is.) 

She slowly opens her eyes and squints in the darkness. Beatrice is facing her a furrow in her brow that Ava knows she’s doing unconsciously. Ava’s lip quirks a smidgen, Beatrice looks funny. It’s a bit silly to her, Beatrice no doubt working out a solution to an unknown problem that Ava has yet to see in the middle of the night. In her sleepy state she wants to laugh at the imaginary cogs churning in Beatrice’s head. 

Beatrice scooches closer and Ava panics, her skin can taste the dust of Bea’s forearm. She hoists herself up on her elbows, turning to face Beatrice. “Wha?” Ava’s shaking off bits of sleep from her mouth when Beatrice repeats herself. 

“Does the Halo hurt?” 

She doesn’t know if she wants to answer that. Ava peers over Beatrice squinting at the harsh light of the digital clock on Beatrice’s side. Ava loves it, it reminds her of the early 2000’s and the aesthetic of waking up to an alarm to go somewhere. The clock blinks an innocent 1:43 Am, and Ava debates on letting her head thump back down. 

She turns her body on her side, she can feel the halo shifting in her back and it makes her want to throw up. The sides of the halo press against her shoulder blades and Ava resists the urge to yank it out. She grits her teeth and settles ignoring the skin of her back pulling tight to accommodate for the ring. Beatrice is still expecting an answer and Ava can’t lie to her, she pulls the covers of the sheet up to her chest hoping to bide more time for an answer. 

"Everything hurts Bea," Ava smiles, "getting my ass handed to me is hard work."

Beatrice frowns displeased but looks at her through her lashes, it's unguarded, the stress and worries of the world stay out of their room in the dead of night. Her lashes are so pretty and Ava wants to curse the soft glow of the moon. There’s just enough moonlight to illuminate her eyes but overshadow her freckles. Ava swallows down the taste of defeat, she can’t win, she thinks. 

Her gaze is soft, Beatrice is looking at her and it’s different yet the same. The same feeling in her chest constricting her lungs, the same soft gaze of Beatrice. Beatrice who likes what she sees in Ava when Ava can barely see where she begins. She doesn’t like to dwell on it, the truth of the matter being what belongs to Ava.

If she closes her eyes she can pretend just a little longer. She can give herself the hope of the future and what comes after all this. She can put down the fighting and the artifact and live. Ava doesn't want to think about it anymore, at least not tonight when Beatrice is here with her. 

Beatrice is soft. She knows it from hours and hours of training. She's felt it when Beatrice corrects her form, in the way she talks. She speaks from a place of care like she has turned the harsh words in her brain over and over to soften the syllables spoken to Ava. And Ava doesn't linger on it, the meaning behind it, (Ava didn't think she'd make it this far, finding a person who cares quite like Bea does.)

And Ava's got it bad, she knows she's fucked because Beatrice doesn’t say anything about her language and Ava can't not tell her the truth. She looks down, her hand fiddling with the bed sheet underneath them. 

"It doesn't hurt," if she thinks about it she can feel the fibers of the cotton between the pads of her fingers. "But it's very uncomfortable." She doesn't want to find the response in Beatrice's eyes, content to hear it from her voice. The soft British lilting accent that holds her just as soft as a touch. 

She waits, she can picture Bea’s mannerisms with her eyes closed but maybe she should check just to be sure. Ava peers up at Beatrice and she’s suddenly closer. Her eyes really are pretty, there’s a depth to them that Ava wants to spend an ungodly amount of time studying.

“Can I help?”

[chronurgy]

It's the modernization it's the mechanization it's the way the old world has to die for the new world to be born and by killing gortash you've slowed it down but you haven't stopped it because ideas can't be stopped and the industrial world that will destroy your way of life is coming and you can't stop it by killing him any more than the luddites could stop it by smashing up a few factory machines

[stellorc]

what a recently employed amnesiac sith scout and a depressed exile ship mechanic have in common?

I made this a while ago and forgot to share here, my bad. Left is my girl Revan and right is my baby Exile, or Jesra and Phebe if you're feeling fancy.

[sparky-is-spiders]

Aromantic Jon who doesn't know they're aro who treats romantic relationships like yet another chore they have to do now that they're an adult. They're in their twenties now. They've put it off for long enough but they're going to have to do it eventually, it's just what adults do. They sort of approach every relationship like an obligation they're checking off of their to-do list. People keep breaking up with them for it. They used to think everyone else also felt like being in a romantic relationship was a huge burden, but after a few comments landed weird they now suspect it's just yet another short-coming of theirs (they've never been good at understanding other people anyways).

They don't think about it for most of the plot of the podcast, due to the. Everything. Until maybe around S4. But by that point they've basically decided that that doesn't matter any more. Too much time, effort, and risk for anyone not already involved (and no one who IS involved is an option). It's a massive weight off their shoulders. They draw no larger conclusions from this.

[stonedstargazer666]

Stoned Head cannon

So this is gonna be based kinda off of a couple of pictures I saved from twitter and here on good ole Tumblr, earlier this month. well my collection keeps getting larger...Anywho.. Yes, I am baked outta my gourd, this is just gonna be raw writing and I have sat long and hard about this. I'm sorry if I don't tag anything correctly. i'm zooted. Fem terms used. NSFW under photos. (DNI: If the thought of getting your BC messed with if your taking it orally messes with you. )

Ok so you're dating Vessel, right? You get along with the others really well. you bring out a side of them that Vessel rarely sees. Which is fine dandy and wonderful. If it weren't for the fact that the boys are seemingly testing the boundaries with you. Light touches that could easily be brushed off as accidental, brushing the hair out of your face with lingering touches.

Well Vessel sees you just brushing it off, you're confident enough to tell them to back off sure. Brushing their hand away, giving them a glare, or flipping them off with a laugh. You're absolutely loyal to Vessel, perfectly devoted the both of you would say. But gosh, if Vessel didn't want to absolutely claim you. Sure, you two have your fun regularly, but you were on the pill. He didn't know how to bring that up to you, on one hand he loved that you were stern about your health and just wasn't ready for kids.

BUT on the other hand, when you take your placebo week, you get emotional over videos of babies laughing and giggling till they can't breath. Vessel see's how you coo at your phone while laying in bed, earbud in or over ear headphones depending on the vibe you had. listening to the sweet shrieks of laughter, he listens to you talk to yourself how your friend's baby is so cute, when they post pictures. It was a monthly habit that drove him up the wall. Until he read about activated charcoal, and the dangers of it messing with oral birth control... Oh.. well this could be useful information. He better read up on that... ya know just in case....

(NSFW content ahead, continue if you dare)

Now that he has learned about the activated charcoal, he thought that would be perfect. He had been meaning to try out a different way of painting his body. You liked it when he wore the paint in the bedroom, who was he to deny his sweet little dove? On stage it was the normal body paint, but lately in the bedroom...the texture of the paint felt different on your tongue....or...or did it always feel that grainy? You vocalize your concern in a needy whimpering voice, feeling your own hot breath bounce off of his neck. Tongue halfway pressed against the pulse point of his throat.

Vessel rumbles a deep throaty laugh, assuring you that yes it has. for the last month It had. Vessel would hide and put the water activated charcoal on his throat, fingers, hands, chest. ALL of your favorite places to lick, suck on, worship. Mentally Vessel reveled in the fact that he was messing with your birth control. You would be a wonderful mum, and the boys...oh the boys would know who you belonged to. two birds one stone really. But you didn't know this, you didn't need to know that little fact. HE prayed and thanked God that nothing had changed over the past month, nothing that would arise suspicion of what he was doing... The sound of you greedily choking and trying to swallow around his fingers brings him out of his thoughts. He takes a moment to take in the pretty sight. you on the bed, ass up, face down cause you're a good girl yeah? Yeah ,you are, tilting your head to the side. your tongue lavishing his long fingers.

He coos at how pretty you are. A pure work of art, taking his fingers into your mouth so willingly, while also taking him so perfectly into your drooling sex. Vessels eyes zero in on your convulsing throat, moaning audibly feeling you successfully swallow around his fingers without choking or gagging. Oh such a good girl you are, He praises. As you swallow the charcoal, bringing you one step closer to being claimed and owned by him inside and out. With that thought in mind. Vessel pulls his fingers out of your throat. Reaching around to wipe them right over your womb, the striking black pops against your pink warm skin. Almost like a promise, Vessel flips you over onto your back. slowly...so deliciously slowly does he show you what his new healed piercing is capable of. Oh now you really feel it, and you clench hard. Vessel watches the moment you succumb to his slow deep ministrations. He takes a quick moment to make a mental note to thank IVy for the suggestion. Who knew that a Jacobs ladder would be just utter heaven. Vessels thrusts start getting sloppy, and rougher. his hands gripping the fat of hips with a bruising force. His hips stutter as you beg so prettily through tears and desperate moans for him to come inside.

Oh how you sang little dove, your voice cracking as you scream his name. BEgging him to come, your voice is delirious. It's pure unadulterated music to his ears, He slams into you one more time, rutting into your poor bullied cunny, grinding against your swollen nub just right. Your climax hits, your back arching off the bed as you hopelessly grind and roll your hips. Vessel soaks in the sight of the pure pleasure on your face, as he grinds deeper. Seeing a faint bump in your pretty tummy, just underneath the black streaks he left there earlier...

He cums hard, and so much. Poor man, must have been so pent up... but Gods does feel so fucking good to feel his release overflowing, and dripping. But you still whimpered softly about feeling so full Vessel stared at the marking he left, it looked ever so slightly rounder. He wonders if he could maybe talk you into getting it tattooed. Just for him. He slowly pulls out, whispering praises, telling you what a perfect girl you are, gently rubbing your sides. Waiting for you to come down from wherever you floated off too during your climax. Once your breathing evened out to his liking, he got up. Disappearing, just to come back with a soft warm wet wash cloth. Gently cleaning you up, taking a quick picture of the marks. For later reference of course. Then wiping them away, reverently. After cleaning you both, he throws on black sweat pants. Then lovingly wraps you in your favorite soft blanket. The soft sigh you let out lets him know your relaxing, and are comfortable. He picks you up, cradling you close to his warm chest. Walking out to the common area to sit with you in his lap. Showing the other three, that he was the only one that held your heart.

And wouldn't you know it? three weeks later, you tell Vessel that you've been feeling quite strange... Like a weird stomach bug, cause you've been so nauseous lately.... But don't worry, Vessel assures you, you'll start feeling better soon. Just let him take care of you...

[moonchild-in-blue]

Okay I know I said I was going to stay offline for a while because headache, but I just had the most horrible thought and have to share.

You know the piano on Drag Me Under? The rhythm at which the keys are pressed? Is it just me, or it sounds eerily like a heartbeat? HEAR ME OUT.

I'm not saying it's supposed to sound like that, and I'm aware the tempo is slightly off from the normal/usual heartbeat rate BUT. What if it is? What if you look at it from that perspective?

In the lyrics, Vessel says that they are lying down together. What if this is his/his lover's heartbeat, like when you rest your head on someone's chest and can feel it echo in you?

If he is indeed being dragged down, maybe this is the final moment before the descent? Into Them or down under, I'm not sure. "To merely behold you" - what if this is him remembering their last encounter before They abandoned him? Before Atlantic took place? Since they can't be together? Since the rhythm bleeds nicely into Blood Sport, their parting song? The one before the Big Sad? Does this make sense or am I crazy??

[ruvviks]

we would sell anything just to buy who we're not // we kill our way to heaven

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree