#removed existing carpeting

[shyniisparkles]

Family Room - Loft-Style

[xxcherrycherixx]

Guys im gonna have to become a diy butch 😔

[twogoliathbeetles]

I've been sleeping on the hard pillow recently but this morning I swapped it out for the soft pillow on a half asleep whim and genuinely started moaning in delight. it's just so comfy <333333333

[headspace-hotel]

i would love to enjoy Creature worldbuilding but I always get hung up in how the Iconic Creature, the large, charismatic, often predator-type beast with a backbone and legs and all that, is such an Egregiously Huge Anomaly in creaturedom, an Outlier in a world of nematodes, springtails, beetles, and nondescript fossorial mammals

It's not that I need realistic nematode biodiversity in my reading. It's just that humans are megafauna, but we don't realize that we are megafauna, and worldbuilders are unimpressed with anything smaller than a fox, even though a fox is absolutely vast in the grand scheme of things...

...and fantasy worlds are populated with Gigantic Creatures, hypercarnivores the size of a usual land megaherbivore in real life, because of the undeniable badassery of riding a giant wolf into battle or whatever. But I can't help but think: where is the rest? Y'all know that the tigers and wolves of the world are the tenuously small tip of a pyramid of animal biomass, right? That the large herbivores they prey upon are in turn a pebble perched atop the summit of a mountain, made of the frogs, snakes, rodents, bats, and little birds that are incomprehensibly more numerous, and yet in turn are insignificant compared with the bugs, worms, snails, and slugs, let alone the microorganisms that render us all a mere smudge on the lens of deep time?

A deer, a human...we are gods among life-forms, worlds in ourselves inhabited by our own creatures. Disgust towards parasites is of course an instinctive reaction created by evolutionary pressures, but just think! animals vast enough to be inhabited by their own macroscopic animals! Imagine being a worm in the belly of a deer, unable to survive outside it any more than a human can survive in the vacuum of space, unable perhaps to comprehend that anything exists outside of the body of your god.

Imagine being a tardigrade frolicking in a pasture of algae and moss, unable to understand that this meadow exists on the branch of an enormous tree, and that this tree is itself only a single tree in a forest of millions, that when viewed from above resemble a lush carpet much like the moss. Imagine being a centipede in the permanent darkness of a deep underground cave, unable to know or imagine that there are other caves, that even though you and a hundred thousand generations of your ancestors have been confined to this single cave, that thousands of other caves exist, and that beyond these caves there is a world so much bigger you cannot possibly understand it, a world that stretches farther than you could see or travel in a thousand lifetimes, a world with no ceiling.

Imagine being removed from the cave! You learn that you ancestors came from this infinite place beyond the cave, that your relatives inhabit every part of it, that your family is more numerous than you could ever learn to count!

...what was I talking about again?...

[socialistexan]

"But there are violent homophobic, transphobic, sexist and antisemitic people there!"

Yeah, and? So are people in Texas, and I fucking live here! Does that justify removing people from their homes and carpet bombing them, and then shooting them when they flee?

I've been called slurs here. I've been queer bashed. I've seen religious leaders here call for my community's actual execution. I've seen politicians and tv talking heads call me menace that Has To Be Dealt With and made laws trying to outlaw my existence.

Would that justify billions of dollars in monetary aid and countless more in direct military aid to completely engulf the state in white phosphorus?

"Try being queer and Jewish in Palestine" motherfucker try being queer and Jewish in East Texas!

[jewishvitya]

[This post was originally written in response to someone tagging me and claiming that a free Palestine would mean all Israeli Jews will be kicked out and where will I go, and how they can't understand why I'm so against Israel being our ethnostate. OP blocked me, so I'm reposting with a few edits, because I already wrote this and I might as well.]

Look. I understand your mentality. We're traumatized by a history of violence against us. We were shown that so many in the world want us dead, and so many others won't stop them. I get it. But I refuse to let myself silently become the face of similar oppression for other people.

Israel benefits from antisemitism and maintains myths that got Jewish people killed in the past, like double loyalty. It weaponizes it for propaganda reasons. It's supported by antisemitic Christian zionist organizations with terrifying motivations. It started out with violence not only against Palestinians but against Jews too. Israel isn't motivated by our safety, it abuses that idea. It manipulates and weaponizes our trauma to make us feel justified in causing so much suffering to innocent people.

You're right that I'll have nowhere to go if I'm kicked out of here. This is where I was born. My parents come from other countries that I won't feel safe in. But all of this is hypothetical. The ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians is not hypothetical, it's REALITY. It's happening RIGHT NOW. And I don't understand how, as a Jewish person who knows what this kind of suffering and loss of life means, you seem unable to prioritize that. I tell you I'm witnessing a genocide happening right next to me and you keep telling me "but what if they hurt you instead."

The assumption that Palestinians will pull some sort of reverse ethnic cleansing against us is racist. This assumption is the reason Israel feels comfortable calling the carpet bombing of a civilian population "self defense." Killing them based on a this is not self defense, it's a racially motivated crime against humanity.

And I'm calling it an assumption because I'm not willing to pull from the Hamas charter that they've since replaced. Hamas isn't Palestinians. The only reason they became this powerful is Israeli funding, and Israeli violence giving Hamas free PR as the only ones who will stand up to the state that will keep them trapped and dying.

We control every aspect of their lives. Israel created a place that breeds radicalization. No group of people, living under the conditions forced on Palestinians, would be peaceful. They would fight back. Because peaceful attempts to have the human rights that Israel denies them got nothing. We stomped on every single one. We blocked all other routes and left them with only violence, which Israeli politicians have been using as an excuse for over 15 years to make a show of force with military campaigns whenever they wanted a boost in popularity. We created living conditions with such low life expectancy that half of the population is children because so few adults survive. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this.

Palestine was a land with people living in it. One plot of land can create multiple groups of people, especially when we've been separated for 2000 years. Our connection to this land does not cancel out theirs. Removing them to create our own country could never be right. It's not an argument saying that our connection to Israel gives us the right to move here to live ALONGSIDE Palestinians. That's not what we wanted. We wanted a country that enforces Jewish majority and legally prioritizes Jews. You're justifying this when I repeatedly state that the only way for it to exist is through ethnic cleansing and genocide. There's no way to make this concept into a reality without killing, displacing, and oppressing whoever's left in various different ways, from apartheid to other kinds of discrimination.

I'm not against safety for us. I want to be safe. I want my children to grow in a safe world where we can be openly and joyfully Jewish. I'm not willing to pay for that with the lives and freedoms of other people.

So I will be loud about this: Palestinians deserve to be free in every part of their homeland, even if it's our ancestral homeland too.

If safety for us means we're the ones committing the genocide, maybe we should rethink what safety looks like.

I'm terrified for the lives of millions of people in Gaza. Right now, all I can think about is this, and it baffles me to see people so willing to transfer the horrors of our history to other people.

I had a lovely conversation in DMs in response to the first post, about how zionism encourages us to isolate rather than build bridges in the places where we live all over the world. We can't ignore the way antisemitism saturates culture, but we should also remember the places where Jewish communities thrived for centuries, the places where our neighbors protected us. We're hated, and we're loved. Each form of oppression is unique, so no other group experiences what Jewish people do exactly, but we're not alone. We have a long and rich history of solidarity with other marginalized communities and involvement in liberation movements. We're actively working to make the world safer, and we have people fighting with us. I'm just participating in this fight where I am. The struggle for liberation is a human struggle. You can't use the trauma of antisemitism to silence me about other kinds of bigotry.

Never again. To ANYONE.

[babyjakes]

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | monster fucking

pairing | steve rogers x fairy!reader

warnings | me knowing nothing about fairies. reader is in "fairy heat"? bruce captured reader (potentially inhumane conditions for fairy-keeping?) soft sweet steve. size kink LOL. th-thumb riding? fingering. p-pinky fucking? stretching. multiple orgasms. squirting. praise and encouragement that makes me feral. pity kink? is that a thing? if it is, i think i have it.

word count | 1,225

an | i've never written monster fucking (or really anything super fantasy-oriented) so please be kind!! wasn't expecting to get sooo into this, but like there's just something about reader being literally so tiny that steve's pinky stuffs her to the brim that's making me all 🥲🫠😩

what if bruce was off working in some top-secret remote location and brought you back with him: a sweet little fairy he'd captured while working out in the field, just as you were entering your fairy heat 🫠

maybe you're just about 7 inches tall, with the body/proportions of a grown young woman. he's been conducting research on your species for quite some time, so he's able to determine basics like your age, your likely place of origin, etc. he's thrilled to have caught you at the start of your heat

what's your fairy heat? i made that part up simple, it's the span of several days that occur around the same time every month when your body's at its prime and looking to breed. you become insatiably horny, almost to the point of it being debilitating, and all you can focus on during your excruciating waking moments is fucking yourself on anything of appropriate size in sight

you're kept in some sort of incubator in his lab, a glass box that's a few feet by a few feet wide and deep. the bottom of the enclosure is made of a soft cushiony material, making any spot a good spot to lay down and rest. miniature food and water bowls are set out for you, and a bright lamp hanging from the ceiling of the box shines 12 hours a day. it's a pretty miserable existence, your makeshift habitat nothing close to the wide open flower fields and prairies you're used to, but it allows the scientist to observe you closely without any distractions or interfering variables. and since you're in heat, you aren't too worried about where you are or who's taken you. all you can do is writhe around on the soft floor of the incubator in desperate, horny agony

maybe one day bruce is out of the lab, but he told steve he could come check out his new findings and maybe keep you company if you'd let him. when he enters the room and sees you lying there, squirming and struggling weakly, of course the supersoldier's heart is instantly hurting for you 🥺

he approaches the incubator slowly, not wanting to startle you. but pretty quickly he realizes that you're paying him no mind; you're too preoccupied with your discomfort. he takes his time observing you, standing right in front of the glass box as his huge frame towers over you. bruce told him a little about your condition and the science behind it. it made him blush, but he accepted it like he would learning about any other species and their unique reproductive habits

"poor thing," he hums to himself as he watches your tiny body wriggle in distress. he's stunned by how pretty you are. you have the most delicate little face, and your translucent wings with their iridescent shimmer look like something straight out of a fairytale movie. you're completely naked- bruce removed your scraps of moss carpeting and leaf clothing when he found you. but it's not strange or offputting in the slightest to steve. he just thinks you're beautiful, such a stunning little creature that seems too precious for this world 💕

he notices the plugged openings in the glass wall that allow bruce to reach in and work inside the enclosure. carefully removing the rubber inserts, he reaches a large hand in, wanting to offer you some comfort if you'll take it. you're so tiny that you could nearly crawl right into the palm of his hand and curl up if you wanted to

but snuggles are the last thing you're looking for in this moment. when you see his huge hand lying there, palm up just a short distance away from you, you weakly crawl over, wings drooping in exhaustion. you couldn't fly at the moment if you tried

steve is a little surprised as you hoist yourself up onto his thumb, your tiny legs dangling on either side of it. it only takes him a moment to realize what you're doing- his cheeks turn bright red as you begin rolling your hips desperately, a faint feeling of wetness forming on the pad of his finger as you leak your glistening juices all over him

"oh doll-" his voice is dripping with pity and concern. he doesn't try to stop you, just watches as you so needily try to relieve yourself. as strange as the situation is, he can't help but find your primal actions endearing, in a way

he continues watching sympathetically as you grind your tiny little pussy down against his large digit. his heart swells at the way you place your hands down in front of you, trying to keep yourself upright as you rock at a steady pace. just a few moments later, he sees your little body spasming and realizes you've reached orgasm by merely riding along on his finger. "oh my," he hums thoughtfully, watching as your precious little toes curl in delight

your face is much happier after your climax. steve watches curiously to see what you'll do next, staying silent as you climb off of his thumb and move to the other end of his splayed-out fingers. as you lie yourself down on your back and spread your legs out on either side of his pinky, he's again blushing deeply. "o-oh, hey little one-"

he watches as you begin pushing down to press the tip of his smallest finger up against your leaking hole. seeing how much you struggle to maneuver against him, steve takes even more pity on you. "here, doll. let me help," he decides, bringing his other arm through the unused hole in the glass. he moves it over to lift your back up gently, supporting you in a sitting position as he carefully begins easing his smallest digit up into you, smiling affectionately as you let out a soft sigh of relief

"there you go. that's it," he's murmuring encouragingly as he carefully fucks you with his pinky. your little pussy is so tight around him, he's surprised he's able to fit. but you're taking him so well, and there's something so sweet about the way you look as you sit here in his hands, letting him stretch you out over the smallest finger he has 💕

"good, just like that" "such a pretty little thing you are" "that feel good, doll?" "just keep taking it, sweetheart" "so good for me, keep going" he's not sure if you can understand his words, but there's something he finds satisfying about talking to you this way

he can somehow feel your second orgasm approaching, your walls growing a bit tighter around him as he works up his pace a little more to carry you over the edge. "there," he's humming proudly, smiling as you manage to squirt out forcefully against him. your come ✨literally sparkles✨ as it coats his finger

as you're floating down from your high, he strokes your hair with his thumb as you lean up against the rest of his hand that's behind you. your eyes are droopy, your body no longer writhing in discomfort. as questionable as his actions might've been, it's clear he's taken care of much of your discomfort- at least for now

whyyy was this hot 🫠🫠 maybe i need to write fantasy shit more often lol

[loulouwrites]

HAUNTED . TOMMY SHELBY

summary: tommy's wife knows their stately home is haunted, he doesn't believe her. warnings: mdni, angst, depression, postnatal depression, psychosis, endangering a child, death, suicide, miscarriage, religion, infidelity, grace doesn't exist (yayy!) word count: 1.9k a/n: this deals with really heavy stuff so if you're sensitive to any of the warnings, please don't read this x

It had been a happy marriage.

They had met after Tommy had returned from France. She and her family had moved to Small Heath from a nearby town after her father had gotten a new job at the factory. They were not a well off family, and she had begun working at the Shelby bookmakers while the men were away fighting the Great War, and the women were in charge of the business.

Tommy had liked her the moment he met her, though there was little joy left since his return home, he found pockets of it whenever he was around the abrasive, loud-mouthed girl. It was easy to fall in love with her, and it was easy for her to fall in love with him - it was easy for any woman to fall in love with Thomas Shelby.

They hadn't married quickly, it was years of courtship - and breakups - before he proposed, though she would insist it was less of a proposal, and more a demand. He hadn't gotten down on one knee, nor had he expressed his undying love for her, because she already knew. He had simply informed her they would be married at Church the coming Sunday, and she had no need to worry about the details, he had sorted everything, because that's what he did - he planned, and she showed up, no questions asked.

The Shelby business grew quickly, quicker than it probably should have, and he was able to move her out of Small Heath for good, buying her the countryside estate he had always promised her, with land she could wander in barefoot, and a home she could get lost in.

"It's awfully big," is what she said when he removed his hands from her eyes, revealing the home he planned for them to grow old in. He let out a huff of laughter at the sight of her scrunched up face.

"I wanted a house big enough for all the children we're going to have," he placed a hand on her swollen stomach, their first child growing inside of her, ready to arrive any day now.

She had given birth one week after they had moved into their new home. Her screams echoed throughout the house, and Tommy had to stop himself from running up the stairs to their bedroom every time her pained cries reached his ears from his office.

Their daughter arrived in the early hours of the morning, her screams replacing her mother's, a joyous sound to those in the house. She had dark hair, smooth skin and eyes just like her father.

They named her Elsie.

Thomas loved his home. He saw it as a justification for every bad thing he had ever done. The dark wooden floors, and the walls adorned with gold frames, the French carpets and the china vases, they were all extensions of himself, every detail in the house was proof that he had succeeded.

His wife had loved the house too, at least at first. It had taken her all but one week to make it hers, to decorate the bedroom exactly how she wanted it, and to arrange the china in the dining room in a way that was sure to impress the guests they would have.

The change in her was small at first, as far as Tommy could recall. It had started in the eighth month of her second pregnancy - her second successful pregnancy, at least. He remembered waking in the middle of the night, the sheets beside him cold and crumpled, and he had shot out of bed before he had woken up properly.

The house was eerily still as he wandered, checking every room, but she was nowhere. He opened the door to his daughter's room, releasing a held breath when he saw her tucked away in her pink sheets, unaware of the world around her.

The panic didn't set in until he descended the stairs, and the cold breeze from the open front door hit his face, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

The nighttime air was bitter, the ground cold against his bare feet, but it didn't register to Tommy as he rushed around the grounds for his wife, with only the moonlight as his guide. He didn't know how long he had been searching when he finally saw her, her nightgown flowing in the wind as she stood beside the pond, her back to her husband.

He had called her name, but she didn't turn around, and he called it again, and again, approaching her the way he would a spooked horse.

"I don't know how you can sleep in that house, Thomas," she spoke when he was close enough to hear her whisper, and he stopped short of touching her, a frown on his face. "It's just so loud in there."

"What do you mean, love?" Tommy glanced back at the house, it's silence obvious even from outside.

"They're too loud, Tommy," her voice broke, and she turned around to face him, her hair tangled and her eyes teary.

He didn't question her, he didn't argue that the house was quiet and there was nobody there but them and their daughter, he just nodded, holding a hand out for her to take, pulling her to his chest when she finally gripped his hand in hers.

"I know, love."

She loved her children. Elsie was pretty like her, and stubborn like her father, and was able to make anybody smile. Her son, George, was quiet, and, though he was only a baby, she knew he'd be kind, a gentle soul in such a cruel world. She also loved the children she had lost, though she never named them. The ones that never made it out of her womb, sometimes she thought they knew what they would be born into, and maybe saved themselves from the cruelty, maybe God had saved them from it.

She was singing George a lullaby in his room when she heard them again.

The whispers.

She never knew where the noise was coming from, just that they were close. Close enough for her to hear them, but far away enough for it to sound like gibberish.

They always came when it was dark, when they knew she wouldn't be able to see them in the corners of the room, but she knew they were there, even if nobody else did.

She held her son close to her, leaving his room as quietly as possible, her bare feet pressing into the wooden floor caused it to creak as she moved, but she didn't stop.

Her husband sighed when she walked into the bedroom with their son held tightly against her chest. She had been doing this more frequently lately.

"George will be sleeping with us tonight."

She was telling him, not asking.

"I don't think there's any need for that," Tommy had sighed as he removed his cufflinks, throwing them on the dressing table harder then was necessary.

"It is," she stated, climbing into bed, her lips pressed to the head of the infant.

"He has a perfectly good room all for himself," Tommy tried to reason, but one look at his wife's face told him his arguing was in vain.

There was no reasoning with her anymore.

"It's not safe, Tommy." He rolled his eyes at her words, dragging his palms down his face in exasperation, and exhaustion. "You don't see it, but it's not,"

"You don't see it," Tommy hissed, pointing a finger at her. "You don't see it, you hear it, you hear things no one else does."

"I am not insane, if that's what you're implying," she regarded him cooly. "It's real, it's all real."

"I'm not implying anything," he sighed, moving to sit beside her on the bed. "I believe that you believe it's real-"

She was shaking her head and climbing out of the bed before he could finish the sentence, pacing the floor with a fussy George in her arms.

"It's real, Tommy," she walked to stand in front of him, looking down at him, her tears dripping onto his shirt.

There was no reasoning with her anymore.

"I know, love. I believe you."

It got worse as George grew.

She had been putting the six month old to bed when the whispers got closer, when she felt their breath against her ear, and heard their taunting laughter all around the room.

She had scooped up the baby and ran from the room, their laughter echoing through the halls.

Elsie had been sleeping when her mother burst into the room, with baby George held on her hip.

"We have to go, Elsie," her mother had whispered erratically. "We have to leave now."

She held a bruising grip on her sleepy daughter's arm as she dragged her down the stairs, tripping over the carpet as she rushed. She spared a glance at Tommy's closed office door, and considered running towards it, running to the man who wasn't afraid of anything, but she didn't.

He wouldn't understand.

Tommy shouldn't have indulged her as much as he did.

He should never have told her he believed the sick stories she had created in her mind. He should have thrown her in the car and sent her to the doctor the first time he found her standing by that pond.

He had heard the front door open, heard the protests of his daughter and the cries of his son, and he had thrown his cigarette to the floor and ran towards the noise, finding the front door open, and the cries of his children getting fainter as they left the house.

He knew where she was going, and he had ran faster than he thought he ever had before, finding her at the pond, her nightgown flapping in the breeze.

He called her name, and her head snapped towards him, and Elsie tried to wiggle out of her mother's grip at the sight of her father.

"Come back inside, love," he had said, his arms outstretched, but she shook her head erratically.

"No, no Tommy. That house is evil, why can't you see it?" He took a small step forward, his shoes sinking into the mud.

"I know, I know," he whispered. "We don't have to go back there, we can go somewhere else, anywhere you want."

"You're lying," she spat quietly.

"I'm not," he shook his head. "I'm not. You never have to go back there again, I'll burn it down if that's what you want. Just come here."

Her body relaxed slightly, as did her grip on Elsie, who managed to free her arm from her mother's hand and run to her father, tears soaking her cheeks.

"Come on, love," Tommy eyed George, who was leaning against his mother's chest. "Let's go now."

She took careful steps towards him, her bare feet digging into the soft ground. He had taken George from her arms as soon as she was close enough, and she looked at her family with an empty look in her eyes.

He handed George to Elsie, instructing the six year old to take him to the car, without breaking eye contact with the broken woman in front of him.

She was gone.

"Come on, love. We can fix it, I can fix it," his voice was pained as he reached for her, and for a second he saw the woman he married. He saw her in the way she wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands dragging down his sides.

"I'm sorry, Tommy."

He was helpless to stop it, really.

Too slow to realise her hand stopping at his holster.

Too slow to reach for when she stepped back from her with his gun in his hand.

Too weak to catch her before she fell back into the pond.

Too weak to stop his knees from giving in.

She was gone.

The house had won.

[icedsodapop]

Media outlets who have lauded Taylor-Joy’s “bride-like” ethereal look, the Instagram comments complimenting her timeless style and her fellow celebrities who posed beside her hijab-covered form have mostly been deafeningly silent on the plight of the women of Gaza.

(...)

If Palestinians were not largely Muslim, if they were not Arab - if the women didn’t dress precisely the way that Anya Taylor-Joy gets to dress - then this genocide would have moved the world in the same way that Russia’s invasion of Ukraine did.

We are socialised to swallow the massacre of Arabs and Muslims as commonplace and inconsequential. Our corpses become mere collateral damage to a world unperturbed by our slaughter.

(...)

The success - indeed, the very existence - of both the book and now film series is testament to the West’s desire to consume our Muslim aesthetics in a fantasy realm whilst disenfranchising us in the real world - be it through securitisation or racism, war or genocide.

Dune reminds us of the place that the Arab and Muslim will perpetually inhabit in the West. It tells us: we will feed on your exoticness, adopt the intricacies of your culture, ravage your homelands, all whilst removing you from the equation altogether.

[thetistaboveall]

Glen’s Not Home

“Glen is not home” I bellow loudly down his low lit overly drawn hallway my echo calls back with his voice bounces through the hell wall to wall.

“I am going to the red carpet premiere of his new movie and you see Glen you are not in the driver seat any longer.” I continue on.

“Time to hit the showers.” I say walking to the mirror as I slowly undress my robe in a strange attempt to seduce myself I don’t know what’s happening.

“No! You can’t do this to me.” I bellow with laughter.

“Hello? Answer me!” He screams back.

“God damn you!” His temper rages on as he is pounding on the glass mirror.

“Sorry! Wi-fi off”

“You can hear me”

“Fuck off! I am out “

“Get back here “

“You smell dude”

“Leave my body “

The many hours roll back finally I walk from his bedroom in his crisp suit down the stair case in to the main hall room with such a hot second.

My pep in step picks up so excitingly as I hit the door grasping the door knob as I exit on to the front step and the limo awaits me or him.

I place my sun shades on the bridge of his skinny as face looking so damn stunning in this sexy outfit as well and remove my cell phone from the pocket.

The limo driver exist the car door walking his ass to the back of the limo opening the door for me as I walk in and he slips back in to the front seat.

We begin to drive off as I imagine us hitting the event as I watch the passerby men and women living their lives as I begin a new one in his shoes.

I can see the real Glen in the driver seat side mirror his facial expression fueling me with a look of death as if he could harm at any given moment.

The red carpet is buzzing as my limo sliding in to the area it parks as my driver gets to work letting me out as I stand up to his full height.

The world seems so different now the air is active so breezy swirling all over him his dry straight blond hair covers me putting it out of place.

I dig my hand in to his air using my hand to swoop his hair back leaving it pitch perfect as I smile my white teeth shine gleaming on the camera.

I begin my descent down the red carpet in that silky black suit with bow tie as I am so damn fine taking hot poses as I swing to the side.

Back to the forth I do a bit of dancing to the red carpet using my hands to do a winning side and I can’t believe how much love I am getting.

A few women manage to jump over the line on to the carpet racing towards me one is hopping on to me the rest follow me, hug me, kissing me and I am going insane.

“Ok ok! Ladies but I have to go “

“Guys don’t be so rough”

“Mr. Powell! I have a few questions “

“What was so different about this film?”

“I have never felt more alive “

“I was absolutely buzzing”

“I mean look at me”

“Ahahahaha”

“This ass too “

“You are embarrassing me”

“Co-opting my life”

“I have to go”

“What is your deal?”

“You stole my life “

“It is my lifestyle “

“Fuck off!”

“Babe! Cool down”

“I own you now! Get use to it”

The movie ends as I stood up to a powerful resounding applause coming my way as I wave at them demanding more attentionfrom me.

I smile walking out I take a look at two of my co-stars one male and one female winking at their way I smirk and nod my head to the bathroom.

This exclusive hotel area as I push the door behind me as they follow me in and lock the door behind them and I can feel his hands on mine.

Glen’s cock stirs as he horrified at my many actions of the night including flipping him on to his back as I pinned him down to the wall and hold him down.

He is so happy smiling back at him as I lean in a bit kissing him slowly yanking him hard as he presses on me and he starts to kiss past my neck.

I swing her to my side then to the wall my lips are in overdrive kissing her as I kiss a map to her collar bone and I can feel her moan in pleasure.

I unlock the door grabbing my hand in both of theirs as they guide me back to the celeb private area of the hotel sending my nerves in to the senses.

We press the elevator bell shifting the door to the side as we trend on as the door close the elevator shoots upward and they wrap arms over me.

Shoving me back they shift hands all on to my body moving, spreading as all hands are on deck. What a feeling to have four hands wickedly tempting.

The door pops open letting me off on to the side floor as we flow to my hotel room and I struggle to find the keys backs to the door a thrilling moment.

Our hearts are palpitating extremely like a drum a fierce sound of a rock band between us because we are madly in love consuming him entirely.

I can see Glen appear on in the mirror of the hotel room follow my movements as I lead them to bedroom and make my way to the mirror winking at my reflection.

“You can’t live my life forever “

“Oh can’t I?”

“People will notice “

“You believe that don’t you ?”

“Fools paradise”

“Well a soul and fool will be soon a pardoned”

“Far from the saying “

“Get a life “

“I have one…you are living it”

“You are such a pretty boy”

“I wish”

“Time to mess you up “

“Now! If you excuse me”

“Tomorrow I will fight you “

“Mwahahahahaha “

“You are too damn weak”

“My life and my body “

“Why don’t you accept it bitch?”

One last wink, a clink to his fingers and Glen vanishes forever.

The end

[chrisgotitall]

can we have the moments where Mike Faist and actress!Reader have a fun friendship during their promotion of the new movie drama, thriller, literary human psychology as D. Fincher movies, their characters have an intriguing and complex love interest (he plays an ambitious, manipulative, intelligent main character and she plays an independent, passionate, sweet character)

Several clip interviews, Q&A with the rest of the cast, preview, defined their relationship, as if the fans ship them because of what they say to each other or others about their chemistry on set or their actions moves towards each other (like mike and reader as friendship goal, teasing each other for 4min, being a old married couple, chaotic moment...) and audience reaction. :)

R and Mike connected instantly, from the very few days on set. They developed a strong bond, a tight friendship throughout their work experience. And of course, like it happens for every couple of male and female actors in this industry, they were being shipped all over the internet.

The amount of clip compilations all over the internet was enormous both complementing their friendship and their alleged romance.

Reader and Mike being cute for 5 minutes

There was a clip of her passing behind him on the red carpet while he was doing an interview. He sees her and says “Hello” smiling at her. She says “Hello” imitating his tone and casually touching his shoulder while passing to reach her interviewer.

Another clip showed the two of them literally mirroring each other and then noticing the action and laughing it off. Oh, and if that wasn’t cute enough she touched his leg while laughing.

They went on Agree to Disagree together and let’s just say that the amount of eye contact they held up to each other was crazy.

The question was: “I am the best karaoke singer on the team”

Mike scoffed and put the glass of water on “strongly disagree” while Reader put it on “disagree”.

“If you’re there I’m definitely not the strongest singer at all,” he says.

“Oh shut it, Jake Kelly” she responds, referring to his role of understudy in Newsies.

Another clip showed Mike casually removing a hair from the sleeve of her sweater.

“What’s the best thing about playing your characters?” they got asked in an interview.

Mike said: “I mean my character is not really a nice person. But I think the best thing is really that, you know, like getting to study how his mind works and why he’s doing specific things. He’s manipulative and mean which is not easy to be when there’s R working with you…” he answers.

She chuckles, “You did great tho, you delivered amazingly” she says.

“Thank you, thank you”

R and Mike Faist being a married couple for 7 minutes

“When you’re in the room when she does what she does it genuinely changes the air in the room and everyone is completely stunned by what she does” he said in an interview while she was next to him shaking her head no.

“Not because I have to say something nice back but really watching Mike Faist performing in front of you leaves you astonished. He’s such a deep feeler, first of all as a human, and that helps him amazingly with his acting. He’s brilliant” she says back.

There were a few clips on set. One when they laugh when he messes up his line and another one when she adjusts a piece of his hair from his face.

But the cutest and fan favorite is the clip where Mike defends R after some sexist comments about her clothing in the movie.

The comment sections of course were crazy as well.

“OMG they’re the cutest”

“Honestly I’m a little jealous but they’re so freaking cute together”

“Notice how Mike is always the quietest in interviews but when he’s with her he’s constantly participating”

“Uhm… why is no one talking about her hand placement in the first clip”

-”Also him clearing his throat before continuing speaking after she touched him”

“The other cast members are just existing while they’re blatantly flirting with each other”

“Their chemistry in the movie was palpable and after this it’s obvious why”

“Am I the only one that heard him call her “darling” while thanking her after she complimented his acting?”

-”NOOO, I heard it too, oh my god they’re so cute”

“He just looks so at ease with her”

“There’s no way they’re just friends, come on”

-”Absolutely not. All that touching seems done before”

“Their compliments to each other are adorable, there’s so much estimation between these two”

“The way he stood up for her after those horrid comments. Mike Faist, the man you are”

“He looks at her so lovingly, I’m gonna cry”

“That should be me but that’s also my queen, so it’s fine”

“GIIIIIRL, she’s down bad”

“He would be one of the best looking guys she’s ever been with”

“They honestly fit each other soo well”

Of course they never dared to admit or confirm a romance but a picture of him at the opening night of one of her broadway shows started a fire of rumors that wasn’t so easy to extinguish.

[penny-anna]

Trying to vacuum my living room this morning

My new carpets are wool rather than synthetic and a downside of this is that they shed

I'm reliably informed that this is a temporary issue that will resolve itself once all the loose fibres work their way out but for the timing being they're producing just a TREMENDOUS amount of fluff

My vacuum cleaner is cordless & it's not got a very high fluff capacity. Keeps filling up much faster than I'm used to

The way I generally notice this is that it cuts out mid vacuum. Usually this is fixed by emptying out it's tank

Today however it continued cutting out even after the tank was empty. Figured there must be more fluff in there somewhere

Go on a fascinating journey through the workings of the vacuum cleaner. Discover removable parts I had no idea even existed. See bits of it that have never been viewed by human eyes before.

Eventually determine that there are 2 points where the fluff has got so compacted that it's not getting sucked up

One of these is right down in the bottom section and w some finagling manage to push it out w the handle of my longest spoon

However other blockage seems to be in the Long Pipe. Have to use my phone torch to confirm that it's there bcos it's dark inside the Long Pipe.

My longest spoon isn't long enough to reach it and I don't have any other suitable implements

Only thing I can think to do is put it in the bath and run water down it. Reluctant to do this as if I get it wet I'll need to dry it out fully before using it again

Continue searching for a suitable implement. Continue to not have anything

Bite the bullet and take it into the bathroom

At first nothing is coming out. Begin to worry that this isn't gonna work

But then!! After about 15-20 seconds the Long Pipe disgorges all it's fluff into the bath

There's a perceptible sensation of pressure releasing??

It's finally clean!!

Put the vacuum cleaner into handheld mode and go suck up the worst of the fluff

Success??

[alienssstufff]

ANALYSING Q!SLIME'S FINAL BIRTHDAY GIFT [12/08/2023]

With the addition of the underground railway within the mines of q!Slime's Eggxile base, the choices on the birthday build (from the lead-up, the threshold, to the house itself) adds so much on to q!Slime's character as well as gives hints on the bigger picture of the Federation and the new wave of codes.

Prior to today's Birthday stream, the two significant builds in Eggxile are the Altar to Lil J and the Basement - two builds that represent q!Slime's religious devotion and his familial devotion respectively. I did an analysis comparing the two in another post HERE as a Part 1 - big recommend to read through that one before this one when you can!

This time I'll be going into detail specifically about the underground railway and how it represents q!Slime's 'devotion' to the island itself and the Federation.

long rambling ahead be careful [EXPLANATION UNDERCUT]

PREVIOUS KNOWLEDGE: Quick SparkNotes summary about Slime's way of building:

Slime's builds are simplistic, symmetrical layouts (preferably circular)

Comprised of mostly local, easy to obtain/manufacture materials

A lot of flora interior

NO security, little-to-no input from the Create-mod

These characteristics were derived from the similarities between Slime's existing builds of the Altar and the Basement. The uncanniness of the Birthday Build is that it is an extension NOT built by Slime, but instead is the Federation's attempt to imitate his style and forcibly insert itself into his life.

We can presume that this is the Federation's doing and by extension JuanaFlippa's current identity by the context clues during the scavenger hunt. The main giveaway being the location of the START placed at the QSMP Dinner Hall: the first sightings of the Egg Codes and the location of Gegg's assassination. The detail of the FIRST CLUE as well being Slime's train ticket to the island supports this theory in assumption that it was the Federation that both brought the original 17 residence to the island and is currently withholding the tickets themselves.

The scavenger hunt goes as planned, all in all directing Slime back to his Eggxile base. (Note the poster being placed IN FRONT of the school's only exit)

THRESHOLD BETWEEN THIS WORLD AND THE NEXT: Not much of Slime's actual base is touched in the scavenger hunt other than the nook in the Basement Slime had originally designed to be JuanaFlippa's area. Here it is decorated with the carpet, two chairs, and two presents. Everything before that (lamps including) was made by Slime.

After Slime collects what he believes is the last of the presents the lamps in the Basement are progressively removed directing him to the only other light in room being the black wool platform and chest. These lamps were destroyed NOT turned off. The contents of the chest read as follows:

Hostile architecture is defined as a design strategy to purposefully guide or restrict movement (targeting mostly the homeless. it sucks). And by limiting Slime's vision here is the first of many examples of the Federation restricting Slime's movement as the path progressively becomes more and more forced.

From here to the mine entrance Slime is still given a physical choice whether or not to follow the light. This is the Federation's way in giving Slime the illusion of free choice. 'You chose to follow the light' 'You chose to break that wall in the mines' 'You chose to activate the train carriage'

The train carriage and its small, difficult to move around, interior being the last direct choice Slime makes. It locks him inside and sends him on a trip that goes no where but down, deeper into the mines.

It's worth noting that originally these mines originally belong to Slime. He made this entrance and he was able to freely explore any part of these caves. What the train carriage does is give Slime a strict path to follow and a very limited window to look through - no straying from the path here. Look only where the Federation tells you to.

Given the connection between codes and trains, symbolically this can also represent Slime's gradual spiral (the shape of the tracks) into hell - the madness that is the island led on by the Federation.

JUANAFLIPPA'S HOUSE: The road ends at a small house at the very bottom of the lush caves. It's a nice house! Supposedly trying to replicate the arched partition walls in the Basement... But not quite perfectly imitating his style of build. The giveaways being its asymmetry and the choice of materials: a variety of different wood types, most NOT local to Eggxile (also the fake house just looks prettier wwww)

Here's the two houses for comparison (Slime's house is an 8x8 block square)

Stylistically, the vibe of this house given the location and purpose remind me of that one Cold War bunker in Las Vegas. An underground mansion designed to look like the outside world - a secluded, controlled paradise for a family to live in.

The confirmation that the underground house being a facade becomes clearer the deeper Slime explores the inside.

Normal interior. Normal kitchen. Normal table: 4 chairs (like the outside bonfire), 3 mugs (Slime, Mariana, Juanaflippa). Shelves like Slime's old house in Sacapuntas. A passageway in the wall leading to Juanaflippa's room.

All these things portraying the life Slimeriana and Juanaflippa could have lived. A happy family tucked under from all the dangers of the outside, far far away from the world. Until you look deeper into the cracks only to find out it was all fake, there is nothing back there. A mockery in disguise of a gift.

THE FEDERATION AND SLIME: Prior to the birthday stream with the assassination of Gegg, Slime had initially come to terms that Juanaflippa was well and truly dead and had told ElQuackity (a member of the Federation) that he no longer had any attachments to the island, and because of that would try to be himself. The Federation responded to this twice: the first being ElQuackity offering a position to work with them and ElQuackity win the Elections (this fails as ElQuackity is assassinated by q!BBH); the second being this birthday stream.

So far the Federation has not destroyed anything Slime has built but instead added on top of it. These decisions both give Slime a reason to stay on the island whilst pushing him to do things aligned with the Federation's goals shown by the gifts he gets in the scavenger hunt (Ghillie suit, landmines, grappling hook, dark metal ingots).

Interestingly the 2nd prize during the scavenger hunt is quite literally called the CHARLIE Flag and is the nautical symbol for YES. While the purpose of this flag is for whatever mission the Federation is about to send Slime on, this is also metaphorical as the only response Slime can give right now is YES.

Additionally the flag metaphor could be applied on the controls at the beginning of the tracks: Red flag both socially and in Nautical terms (BRAVO) meaning danger/carrying dangerous cargo.

These are literal red flags in the world in the architecture that are warnings to Slime that once he 'agrees' to these terms and conditions, life for him will only get more dangerous with no way in turning back. Deliberate decisions made by the Federation in guise of Slime's actions and the places he's impacted in the world.

In the end, Slime is a product of the early QSMP and how its history shapes a person and is represented physically by the builds he makes. By the interference of the new tech and prettier structures, the Federation overwrites Slime's creations against his will, creating a world unfamiliar to him - blending what is the truth of the past with the new, augmented present. In another context, change like this can be a good thing - but in this circumstance presents itself as an invasive decision into Slime's private life. This is the Federation forcibly applying itself as one of Slime's priorities in sacrifice of rewriting everything Slime has gone through.

[sirfrogsworth]

I found a queer car detailer in the area and she comes to the house and does deep carpet cleaning. Looks like it is about $180 for that service though. I would love to support a local LGBTQ+ small business, but I don't think I can swing that any time soon.

So, I have gone into problem solving mode. It seems every solution I've read has the goal of completely removing the existence of the vomit—stain and all. But this is on the passenger side floor in a car that only I am ever in and is only driven a few times per month. I'm not actually concerned if there is a stain on the floor. I could even get floor mats if need be. My parents got rid of them because they became a tripping hazard.

So my only goal is to kill the bacteria and smell. And I think I can do that with an enzymatic spray and a small steam cleaner. And that would only cost ~$50. Not to mention I would have something to help if I have any more accidents in the future. Or if I get a pet at some point.

So I think that is what I'm going to go with.

If anyone is in the Christmas spirit and wants to help out I put the items on my wishlist. I had a few messages asking for me to link to that anyway.

And I have a PayPal donate thing as well.

[daybreakerangel]

This is my first Fanfiction even though I like to write. They are not written in character because I just wanted to write some fluff. This fic is SFW with a hint of spiciness at the end.

Title: Morning Delight 🎸🍎

There was a red hue across the King of Hell’s luxury bedroom. Behind the canopy curtain and under a wine-colored comforter lay the king himself, Lucifer, lying beside his partner, the first man, Adam. Lucifer had been awake for a while, snuggling against Adam, enjoying the warmth that radiated from Adam’s plump physique. Adam’s golden wings were spread out across the California king bed.

Lucifer looked up at Adam, who was still sleeping. His halo was dimmed, and he was breathing softly. Lucifer scooted up a bit to admire Adam’s face. The dark circles around Adam’s eyes were slowly fading, making it easier to see the freckles scattered across his tan face.

An idea popped into Lucifer’s head. He slowly backed away from the sleeping angel, slipped out from under the comforter, and left the bed. His hooved feet hit the Saxony carpet, and after he stood up, he noticed that his rubber duck-themed pajamas had ridden up his legs. He pulled them down and looked back at Adam, who had rolled onto his side, his wings returning to their default position. Lucifer did not want to make any noise, so he revealed his wings and left the bedroom quietly. He reached the door, opened it with ease, and once in the hallway, closed it softly.

Lucifer flew down to the first floor of his castle. Upon entering the massive kitchen, he put his wings away and headed to the cabinets. He grabbed two glass decorative plates, one large and the other small, two transparent glass bowls, and his non-stick pans, placing the bowls on the counter and the pans on the stove. He went to the fridge and grabbed five eggs, then reached into the freezer to retrieve three gourmet sausages. Finally, he headed to the pantry for the ingredients to make homemade pancakes. He wanted to surprise Adam with breakfast in bed but realized he was going to need some help. Lucifer snapped his fingers, and two mini versions of himself popped into existence. The one on the left had pink hair, and the one on the right had blue hair.

"Alright, Pink, you are in charge of making the pancakes, and Blue, you are in charge of making the sausages. Got it?" Lucifer announced. The mini Lucifers saluted and got to work.

Lucifer cracked the eggs and whisked them up to make scrambled eggs. He turned the knob on the stove, and flames rose from the burner. He poured the whisked eggs into the pan, then went back to the fridge and grabbed a bag of shredded white cheese. He opened the bag and took a handful of cheese in his left hand, dropping it into the whisked eggs mixture. As he glanced to his right, he noticed that Pink was cooking the sausages while Blue was still putting the pancake ingredients together.

Lucifer focused on making the scrambled eggs, watching the cheese melt evenly into the mixture. He glanced over at Blue, who had finally finished making the batter and was pulling out the griddle. Pink had finished cooking the sausages, placing two on the larger plate and the last one on the smaller plate. Just then, Lucifer noticed that the eggs were about to burn.

"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, quickly turning off the flame and moving the pan off the burner.

Blue was pouring the batter into a heart-shaped pancake mold, gently removing the mold to flip the pancake. Every heart-shaped pancake came out beautifully.

"Is there anything you want me to do, bigger me?" Pink asked.

Lucifer was placing the eggs onto the plates. "Uh, make us a fresh batch of coffee. Adam likes his with brown sugar and cream, and I like mine with almond milk, no sugar. Got it?"

Pink saluted again and went to start on his new task.

Back in the bedroom, Adam was waking up. He crawled to the end of the bed and pushed the canopy curtain away. He wanted to watch some TV while waiting for Lucifer to call him down for breakfast. He got up from the bed, stretched his back and wings, and retied the drawstrings on his grey sweatpants, which were about to fall off. Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, he turned on the TV and headed to the bathroom.

Pink had finished the pancakes, making five for Adam and three for Lucifer. Blue had completed brewing the coffee. Lucifer was pleased with how everything had turned out, and he could not stop smiling. He poured strawberry syrup onto his pancakes and blueberry syrup on Adam’s. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added something Adam did not like—ketchup on the scrambled eggs. Lucifer placed the plates on separate bed trays and had the minis carry them while he held onto the coffee mugs.

Adam was lounging in bed, his eyes glued to the TV. The bedroom door opened quickly, catching Adam’s attention. He looked over and saw Pink and Blue, feeling confused until the actual Lucifer walked in.

"I needed extra hands," Lucifer explained. Pink handed Adam his tray, and Lucifer took his own tray from Blue. "Thanks for the help, minis." Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the minis disappeared.

"Breakfast in bed? That is pretty fancy, LuLu," Adam grinned.

"Wanted to try something new," Lucifer replied, kissing Adam on the cheek as he climbed back into bed.

"Heart-shaped pancakes? Oh, that is adorable," Adam giggled, digging into his breakfast. Lucifer blushed at the compliment and started eating his own meal.

Minutes passed, and Adam had a satisfied expression on his face as he sipped the last of his coffee. Lucifer was still eating.

"Ketchup on eggs is weird," Adam joked.

"I know, but it tastes good," Lucifer asserted. After finishing, Lucifer snuggled up against Adam, who began playing with Lucifer’s blonde hair.

"You know..." Adam started, sitting up, which confused Lucifer. "For lunch, I want something really special."

Lucifer sat up, giving Adam a puzzled look. Adam placed his left hand onto Lucifer’s plump ass and squeezed it, making Lucifer’s face turn a deep shade of yellow.

"I was thinking about some apple dumplings. That sounds nice, right?" Adam whispered into Lucifer’s ear. Lucifer just grinned in response.

[itspyon]

Have you by any chance taken a look at r/dwt2 recently? I'd really like to hear your thoughts on the posts over there about Dream's interactions (or lack thereof) with the fanbse rn and the big content drought. I think you always have realistic outlooks on this stuff and it would definitely help some people on here that I know are trying not to feel too down about it. (100% /nf)

hello dashboard

this is the longest post i have ever written. remember, this is how i personally see things. you don't have to agree with all of it or at all. still, long as fuck. you have been warned

i do not use reddit and i especially don't visit spaces that are a vent melting pot. not something i want to encourage by giving it clicks

however it is a topic i do have thoughts on, of various kinds, so walk with me on this one. i believe the position is in right now is 1 - one he hates, 2 - one he was forced to be in and 3 - one he's too afraid to get out of

you can understand my second point easily, i don't think there's any argument about it. if it was up to him, the current state of his content would not be like this, not talking quality, but in the general lack of it. he had to reorganise his life around october 2022 to the point he considered quitting. that's not an easy thing, logistically an otherwise, and for dream out of all people to have even think about it, it must have been a tremendous feat to get out of that spot mentally. then he could not make usmp happen. dealing with the hate. gumball. releasing the video. these aren't things that he could predict, and did shape the timeline of content release

i don't want to say i feel a bitterness about it from him, because he's not a bitter person. but when he talks about the things that weren't, i do feel that sad yearn, the-one-that-got-away-esque vibe in the conversation. which is completely understandable, because those are his projects he put time thought money and love in. and then he gets the carpet pulled, and now we're here. i feel people forget that a bit you feel sad about all the content, imagine him. we knew about usmp for tops 3 or 4 days, he had been working on it for months. empathise with him a bit and understand this is not a place he wants to be in either

my general "critique" of him regarding the situation is the third point. i say fear, i don't exactly know if that's what it is, and just as above, i understand why it would exist yes, obviously the face reveal and meeting fans and having the parasocialism hit you in the face changes a lot. i understand, say, walking back from his "Stans" video, i understand walking back on the nsfw, i get those things. but we're a bit past that point now, where denouncing that parasocialism is turning into what i see as becoming the cc he has said he doesn't want to be

and i say this as someone that has been around for a WHILE. he has in the past spoken negatively about the path he is taking. the cc that's removed from his audience, the famous guy that has all his accounts managed, the creator with the over scripted, over hyped, removed of all spontaneous dynamic content that ends up either underdelivering, or not delivering at all. ( note here, i don't think dream will ever underdeliver. not in his dna. simply describing that general persona )

he's not there yet, at all, but he's edging close enough where people are starting to feel uneasy about it. some quietly, some in an understanding tone, others demanding and demeaning. and i feel at every step of walking down this figurative path, my first and second points ring very loudly. he doesn't really want this, he never asked for any of this. he has been forced into this position. but now he's on this weird stasis chamber of sorts, not fully in it but also doing nothing to get out ? i see the absolute love he has for music. i see how much he loves minecraft, and his fans, and the weirdness of it all. but he's alienating himself from it and not particularly putting up any sort of fight. not even raising his voice. nothing at all

no snapchats no tweets no likes no replies no streaming no casual popping into a friend's stream. and i am happy for him ! let me make that super clear ! taking time for himself, chilling, doing things in private. i'm glad he has that space now, and he's enjoying a life he very much could not have for years

but the very overwhelming, and genuinely new type of quiet makes that uneasiness i mentioned before grow exponentially. this isn't a quiet we're used to, and i have been through many. i am personally fine with it, i am not the one to demand content, i can simply do something else. but it does worry me he's kind of just taking the punches, and is taking them so much to heart he has removed himself this much from the public, in a seemingly unnecessary fashion. and here's the real issue for me on that third point, and where that worry comes from, and maybe in part curiosity ?

he's sure of what he's doing. at least it appears that way. i don't see all the puzzle pieces, and i am concerned at the picture they paint. is he scared ? is he tired ? is he waiting it out even more ? should i be concerned ? is that maybe too parasocial, or am i just so put off by the change of scenery and the lack of explanation for some of these changes ( like i said, i understand some, but others seem out of left field ) , it that it makes me reasonably worried

still. i get it

i criticize some of it, because yeah, i am selfish, i want the content creator that i have been following for five years to be, at least in part, the one i subscribed to. i want some content, any content, at all

i also understand the road to here was not the one neither of us expected it to be, and it changed him more than it changed me

i am a passive onlooker of his life, and i have no right to make demands to what he gives me access to. i only can complain as much as it is appropriate, which is vocalising my feelings of missing him, because he has given me a piece, and now i don't quite get why it's gone. previously he would have told us why, now it's dead lining

but it's his life. it's his time. it's his piece. and it's his choice. he can do with it as he pleases. i can be unhappy. i can have issues with it, i can worry. i can demand explanations. i am not entitled an answer. the second people understand that last part, they will have a much better time dealing with the quiet

i miss him, i really do. i understand why he's gone. i don't approve of how far he's taking it. but that doesn't fucking matter, because whatever the reasoning is, if he is doing it this way, it's for a reason that's enough to him. and i'd say, we have to trust him with his own life