#don't know where to start

[stubborn-studies]

Currently scrolling on studyblr to find motivation to write my thesis which is over a month past the deadline, whoever's listening please give me strength

[wortverlust]

I uhm.. well…hi? little post… I AM SO SORRY FOR VANISHING!!! (would love to promise, that this will never happen again….but, yeah...it could)

oh btw, I'm going to change my name to WORDLESS (thought it might be a little easier? kinda…idk man) and I deleted the commission post bc I got some strange mails…well yeah, that said, let's try to be a little more active now~

[madc0w]

Listen/purchase: Don't Know Where to Start by The Primitives

album

[cruddyart]

Each year I'm like, i need to actually get into Judaism and yet do I do it? No

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[wardingshout]

Zelda goes mushroom girl

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[egophiliac]

just thinking about hair and faces

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[tshortik]

I love you messy artstyle i love you visible brush strokes I love you textures and rough edges I love you imperfections I love you roughness and colour blobs I love you scratchy sketches and bold stylisation and dirt and imperfections I love you ugly and raw emotion!!!!! ❤️

[yasmeensh]

A Master Study featuring Zelda II: The Adventure of Link. In which Link hangs out with the two Zeldas post-game (Who do you think became the Queen of Hyrule?)

This was a difficult piece, but I'm happy with it!

Based on 'The Chess Players' by Jacques-Clément Wagrez (1902)

Information on inspiration and process under the cut!

Original piece: "The Chess Players" by Jacques-Clément Wagrez (1846-1908).

The moment I saw this artwork I immediately thought of Zelda II. One of the women is wearing a medieval-esque red velvet dress, and she looks a lot like the design I made for the cursed princess Zelda!

I thought it would be very fitting to reimagine this artwork in a Zelda II context, so I went ahead with it! doubles as a master study and LoZ fanart.

I learnt a LOT from making this piece! Since I worked on it digitally, I got and made brushes that acted as close to traditional brushes, and I also worked on the entire piece in one layer. So whenever I made a mistake, I'd have to paint over. No return. But it was a big learning experience! Learnt more about rendering silk and velvet by observing how they are painted and blended in the original.

Here are some WIP shots! It took a long time to get to where it is now xD It was difficult to finally pen down the right proportions and placement. I probably should've done a grid copy, but I opted to just eyeing it out all the way through. It was... hard. (lesson learnt?)

I read that in a lot of older pieces, they are made in greyscale, then flat colours are overlaid on top. makes rendering much easier. and it truly has! I probably should’ve rendered the greyscale version even more. Since there were still a lot of mistakes that I had to rework and adjust while colouring.

Very fruitful experience overall, and I’m just happy to make a grand-scale Zelda II artwork xD I’ve never seen one so I made it!!!

[inthewindtunnel]

The Primitives

Don't Know Where To Start

Crash (1988)

[whalemarch]

festering

[nosnexus]

Daughters of the Crown

[purpleelephantsocks]

Oh god, oh fuck, oh no; the parallels between Jean at the beginning of tsc panicking and telling Wymack "I want to go home" and Jean at the end of tsc falling apart after finding out his baby sister has died, telling Neil the same thing.

"I want to go home."

He is only nineteen

[jeeaark]

I couldn't really think of any fun shenanigans for this incident, but! I did think of a sad silly. Or at least Greygold is trying to make their situation seem silly. Neither of them are conflicted at all~

Anyway, everything is ✨fine✨ as long as nobody talks about the hollyphant in the room and they both entirely focus their short reunion together with returning Greygold back home.

Bonus cheesy goodbye: