Starkid is one of the absolute best arguments for supprting independent art. The fact that the shows you're invested in can't get canceled by Big Daddy Streaming, the quality is always amazing, the love of the cast and crew doesn't get squeezed out by surprise budget reductions, the fact that since crowd funding provides almost all costs up front (plus the presence of voluntary digital ticket/in person tickets for additional funding), the fan base can access the full material for whatever cost they can contribute (even if you can give nothing monetarily, you will still get a professionally shot version of the material eventually, without surprise fees or password crackdowns, AND with captions/completely accesible regardless of location). The same goes for Tin Can Bros, Shipwrecked, and all the other associated theater and web series companies loosely connected to Starkid. Like, I cannot believe the amazing content provided to us at the same level as Broadway or streaming services with billion dollars at hand, with almost none of the catches that come with others. Like, I cannot believe that we get all of this right at our hands.
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Love you Kepler's most nonchalant prophet of death <33
Image description:
A digital illustration of Indrid Cold from The Adventure Zone : Amnesty. He's a man with light brown skin and white hair with black streaks, and is wearing a black coat with a white, fluffy trim over a light grey vest and dark red jeans, as well as his iconic pair of red circular glasses. He's leaning against a payphone and looking of to the side. There are a series of yellow speech bubbles that read "Hello, Duck. In three minutes, your friend Leo Tarkesian is going to die. He will be crushed to death, as will the two customers currently shopping in his store. You might want to do something about that."
The rest of the background is an undersaturated red.
[End ID]
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Really I think nothing shouts "my first Presidential election as a politically active person was 2016" more than the fact that when I feel hope and excitement for the future (possible President Harris) for more than five minutes I immediately get a crushing, all-consuming anxiety of "feeling this positive emotion now is going to make it so much worse when the worst thing possible happens" to the extent that I'll probably need my break-glass-in-case-of-emergency anxiety medication.
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TW: mentions of sex/penetration/being naked; maybe like hinting at dark(ish) themes?? Soap being a lil weird desperate gremlin. This is so short.
Soap doesn't fuck.
He consumes.
It's not about blowing off steam or whatever, either. He has no problem saying it's just that, but it isn't. No, when he has sex with you it's because he's already exhausted all the other (tamer) ways of being close to you.
It's not about the sexual pleasure. It's not that kind of desire. It's his need to be around and inside you. To be you. It's like the need you get when you see something that is too cute and you just need to crush it between your hands. Except that Soap's feelings are darker.
He wants to feel you all over. Deeply. He needs closeness, desperately. He whines and moans purely out of relief when he can touch you; so much skin to skin. Soap presses his chest and belly to your back, and his hips to your ass, and your legs to his, and his neck to your shoulder, and his breath to your head... His arms constrict your chest and arms, hands clawing at your waist and biceps, whatever he can put his fingers on.
He doesn't even care about penetration. Sure, it's nice. Though not so much if it means he'll have to move away, even if it's just a little, to go in and out. No, he prefers grinding.
"Sex" is a good cover for what he actually needs. Except that things start to get a little complicated when you've both finished and he's still rubbing his body against yours. And is he purring?
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