#you’re appreciated

[cyncerity]

shout out to the anon who once drunkenly sent me like 5 different asks about the Store Shifter AU and how much they loved it and how they wanted to put theories together but wouldnt be coherent enough to do so until they were sober

this was like a year ago but i never posted those because i like going into my inbox to read them cause they’re funny and very nice

[nathaaaan]

hey man

[recovering-redditor]

You're one of my favorite mutuals btw

ANON! You’re too fucking nice! Thank you! I’m sure that whoever you are, you’re one of my favorites too!

[awkwardlycharmin]

im still. here. and if you’re reading this. then you’re here with me. thanks for that.

[dozydawn]

Fenton Vaseline Glass Snail, Vintage Yellow Opalescent Uranium Glass

[inamindfarfaraway]

Shoutout to the maned wolf, which is technically neither wolf nor fox but has its own genus called Chrysocyon! Why -

why are your legs so long?

I mean, intellectually, I understand that it’s because you live in grasslands and have evolved to be able to see over the grass, but emotionally… why? Are they?? Like that??? Surely there was a way to make your body more cohesive and proportional-looking?

[lunar-years]

what's so clever about Clara Bow is that when she references her own name at the end, she's not talking about the present but the future, quoting the inevitable way people are going to one day talk about her, imagining it will only be in regards to the woma(e)n who surpass her. because there will be someone who surpasses her, eventually. that's the cycle of fame, isn't it? we're simultaneously captivated by the alluring trick of the past while looking for the next big thing. we compare current stars to the lights that shined before them, "you look like taylor swift." but we're also constantly waiting for someone new and greater to take the crown and captivate us anew, "you've got edge she never did." And half the song is about acknowledging that being revered is hell on earth for the people who are in it, because you're always trapped between what came before and what will come after. you're only safe insofar as you remain shiny. But the real beauty of the song is that it never succumbs to this dichotomy, but embraces it. It's Taylor acknowledging she wouldn't be who she is were it not for the women who came before her, who shared the same dreams, and recognizing her place in the chain of the women who will come after. The future's bright, dazzling.

[lils-in-space]

To the two people who actually followed me among the p*rn bot boogaloo— thanks 💗

[white-weasel]

Looking at the Saw wiki’s page for Jigsaw’s victims gives such major whiplash because the reason for being tested will be like:

killed someone

corrupt cop

abused partner

racist

And then you’ll see shit like:

was a defense attorney and defended people

tried to catch a serial killer

was abused by partner

cared about friends too much

And my personal favorite

unknowingly married a guy who lied about some stuff

[perdvivly]

Anyway:

[adastra121]

You know what. I’m gonna ramble about the Touchstarved LIs favourite places to kiss (based on the polls from @cacaobean760) — the most popular results — because I have thoughts!

Leander’s is the hands, because. He likes to be the special person, the only one who can actually touch MC’s hands without being affected, kissing them on the hand is a possessive thing. But also, even without the curse, he strikes me as someone who likes to kiss people on the hand in that classic romantic, gentlemanly fashion. He’s a performer, of course he’d go for that classic romantic gesture, raising your hand to his lips and kissing the knuckles. Kissing the inside of your wrist, your pulse point, he likes the amount of trust you place in him. And apparently he’s ticklish, so. Tickling under his jaw, he laughs and then he holds your hand there, and kisses your palm.

Ais likes the forehead or anywhere on the head, because he likes your mind the most, having lived in the Groupmind for so long, I don’t think he wants you to lose it and everything that makes you you. He strikes me as someone who really likes people’s minds, judging from the way he likes to listen to Kuras ramble about alchemy, judging from the questions he asks MC in the demo. He just seems the type to be genuinely curious and interested in what’s going on in your head. Kissing you on the forehead or temple whenever you’re lost in thought in those comfortable, quiet moments with him just to bring you back like: “Where’d you fly off to just now, sparrow?” Also he’s tall, so he can reach your forehead more easily.

Vere likes the intimacy, sensuality and power behind neck kisses. He likes the warmth, how your scent is stronger there. He likes how he can hear and feel your pulse under his lips. Gently tracing his sharp teeth along your pulse point, your carotid artery. With just enough pressure to make you hyper aware of his every movement. It would just take one bite. One quick slice of his fang, a spray of red and you’d bleed out in his arms. He thinks you’d taste heavenly. It doesn’t mean that he wants to kill you, he just likes that he can, he likes the amount of power he has over you — and maybe that you trusted him enough to give that to him.

[midkarma]

bully satosugu is hell to deal with, but it gets so much worse when someone else tries to give you attention

their bullying has progressed into more… possessiveness. they’re still mean, they love to see you cry, but now they need you around them at all times. dragging you around campus by your waist, always keeping hands on your hips or shoulders. you don’t have any friends outside of them. not that you’d call them “friends”

but when you’re alone, you’re approached by a male classmate, asking for your number. you blush as he tells you that he’d like to take you to coffee sometime, if it was okay with you. he seemed sweet and caring. but there was a problem. gojo and geto would be pissed if they found out this guy ever talked to you. you thought for a moment, why should i let them control everything i do? i’m allowed to make my own choices. i’ll just be careful.

so you are careful. you take his number and agree to coffee, you set his name as “girl from bio” in your phone so that the boys won’t think anything of it. they don’t believe you’d have any real friends, so you don’t put a real name on the contact.

for a while your plan works. you see the boy about every week, usually in the morning to get coffee. you don’t let him walk you to your classes, but you two text a lot. you decided to get a little bolder though.

you agreed to get dinner with him at a nicer restaurant about a month after you started hanging out. as you’re in the shower getting ready, you don’t hear the texts to your phone, or the calls, or the banging on your apartment door. your roommate isn’t home to get it, but that’s okay. they let themselves in.

you go on about your routine, getting almost fully ready without leaving your room or the bathroom connected to it. it’s not until you need to grab some shoes from your roommate’s room that you notice their presence. a whistle calls your attention to the couch, where geto sits. he looks you up and down, like you’re a piece of meat.

“you’re looking awfully nice, dear. what’s the occasion?” your face falls at his words. you’re fucked.

“going out with… the girl from bio. we’re going to get some dinner.” you quietly respond, already knowing the lie won’t land.

gojo stands from where he’s sitting at the breakfast bar, and walks over to you. he stares you down, smirking, and tugs at the hem of your dress. his hands trail up, and he tightens the straps, as they were falling down. “you and i both know that’s not true, angel. why don’t you tell us what you’re really doing?”

you can’t deny them. you break and quietly tell the truth, “i’m going to see a guy from class… we’re going to dinner. together.” you can feel tears well in your eyes. why do they have to ruin everything?

“really now? dinner? when did you meet this guy?” geto stands before you now, having left his seat on the couch.

“a month and a half ago.”

“a whole month? you managed to hide this loser for a whole month?” gojo laughs in your face, humorlessly. “oh doll, you’re screwed.”

dinner plans are cancelled that night, and the next time you see that guy, about a week later, he’s sporting an almost-healed black eye and a few broken fingers. he doesn’t look at you.

probably because geto and gojo are on your left and right, their hands on your waist.

[burstfoot]

Your name is Kristen Wright. You’re barely 10. You’re at the outdoor funeral for your parents, a pair of genius scientists that Terra will never see again. You’ve spent the last two weeks giving false smiles to women and men who pretend to grieve them while spending every moment they think you’re not looking lauding them for their ‘foolishness’ and ‘hubris’. Sitting amongst a crowd of these intellectuals, your feel nothing looking at their crocodile tears, knowing they’re just happy there’s less competition for next year’s grants. Your new guardian grabs onto your hand in an attempt to grant you a modicum of comfort. You stare blankly at the sky above.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Joyce Moore. You can hardly communicate anymore. Your best friend killed herself trying to replicate the experiment that gave you permanent brain damage. Every scientist at Rhine Lab now treats you like a child at best, and an animal at worst. Your parents have not come to see you. None of your colleagues seem to understand that you are still you, with a sense of humour, good taste in TV shows, and fucking feelings, god damn it.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Ferdinand Clooney. You’ve lost everything you’ve ever worked for in a futile grab for power. The department of defense has you by the dick after saving you from a group of Pioneers who (justifiably) nearly beat you half to death. It’s playing fiddle to their whims or the rest of your life in prison - or, most realistically, a tragic accident report. Your aspirations aren’t within your reach anymore, and you know that it’s your fault. You will never be Kristen Wright, and it’s eating you alive.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Parvis Ahrens. You’re not that old. You’re only 58. But you’re losing your mind. Every day, a little more slips away. You rely more and more on encyclopedic entries for information you took immense pride in knowing from your heart. You’ve spent the last few years focused on the pursuit of progress of all else. As part of this, you manipulated your star pupil in an attempt to permanently get her under your wing, outside of the influence of the Defense Director, a weak-hearted woman everyone else seems to think is cold as ice. She has years of life to change Columbian science. You don’t.

You’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away.

Your name is Jara B. Wilson. You feel like you don’t see the girl who lived for you with so long in Kristen anymore. You’re a washed-up movie star, working for her cause above all else. Do you have anything that you’re working for for yourself anymore? She’ll be gone soon. You know that.

She hasn’t even left yet, and you’ve never felt so alone. You don’t think this feeling will ever go away once she leaves.

Your name is Nasti Londrey. Your people have never had a home. They might never have a home.

You’ve always felt alone. You will always be alone. That’s fine.

Your name is Justin Fitzroy Jr. Your dad died a week ago, and the cure has just been found for the hereditary illness that threatens to cut your lifespan in half. It was found by accident.

The sword of Damacles no longer hangs above your neck. Why then, do you still feel so alone?

Your name is Loken Williams. You reach out to a girl you tortured, who you know can’t remember what you did to her, because you’re going to die soon, and you need someone to remember what you did with your life.

Even if she kills you, at least you won’t die alone.

Your name is Trevor Friston. It’s been thousands of years down here. You just want to see your daughter again, and it will be another thousand until you do.

You’re very familiar with the loneliness that wraps around every single nanometer of your circuit board.

Your name is Dorothy Franks. Your whole family was killed in a Catastrophe. Your name is Elena Urbica. Your whole family, besides your twin sister, has disowned you. Your drive yourself head-first into the sciences to distract yourself from the loneliness.

Your name is Ho’olheyak. Centuries of ancestral memories swarm around your mind. Because of this, your lifespan was cut to a fraction of the life you should be living. You are obsessed with the history of your people, and you resent them from tearing your life away from you. You tear over books and tomes of history to find all means of unspeakable knowledge, hoping that somewhere in there you’ll find something that you can connect to.

You don’t even know you’re lonely.

Your name is Muelsyse.

You saw the writing on the wall. Saria and Kristen just had a massive fight. You’ve been drifting apart since college, but the only two people who you’ve felt a real connection to on all of Terra will hardly speak to each other anymore. Do you try and mend what happened between them? Can you? You don’t know what to do besides take all means to protect yourself in the fallout. You wish you weren’t so paranoid, so self-centered, that all you know how to do is ensure your own safety.

Is there anything on Terra for you besides loneliness?

Your name is Ifrit. It’s cold, and quiet, and you’re pretty sure you’ve killed everyone around you. Your eyes are blurred, you hands are shaky, and shards of black crystal stick out all over your body. Before you pass out, you think one thing:

Hell, you might be alone, but at least those bastard whitecoats got what was coming to them.

Your name is Olivia Silence. You pull yourself out of the rubble in a destroyed laboratory, where you see Saria looming over Ifrit, beaten half-to-death. You beat yourself up for thinking you could trust her - that she was there to protect Ifrit, and you. You can’t trust anyone in Columbia. You run to embrace Ifrit with your entire body, to protect her from the cold eyes of Saria standing above her. You look back at her with nothing but fear in your eyes.

You’ve never felt so alone. You have to get Ifrit out of Rhine.

Your name is Saria. You’re barely 8 years old. You went your father in tears, as a group of bullies came after you and destroyed your toy car. He tells you to stop crying. You’re not accomplishing anything by throwing a fit in front of him. He tells you to fight back - take responsibility for your weakness.

You’ve never felt so alone.

You won’t ever be this weak again.

Staring up at the sky, looking up as Kristen’s ark sends her out through the hole she tore in the false sky, you know that you were foolish to believe you could bypass your own weakness through sheer will.

And you’ll be lonely for the rest of your life without her.

[cutter-kirby]

he’s a babygirl he’s a failwife he’s a losercore dumbass and he’s the most love-filled man to ever exist

[formulapisces]

reblog or <horrific thing will happen to parent>

reblog to get <specific amount of money>

reblog for <luck and something about a crush>

reblog if you aren’t <racist, homophobic, etc>

reblog or else <terrible tragedy happens>

reblog if you care about <obviously a good cause but is baiting you to look like a horrible person if you don’t reblog it>

SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT THE FUCK UP SHUT UP

[pixlokita]

Silly stuff whilst playing with art stuff