"I can't deceive myself out of the bare stark realization that no matter how enthusiastic you are, no matter how sure that character is fate, nothing is real, past or future, when you are alone in your room with the clock ticking loudly into the false cheerful brilliance of the electric light. And if you have no past or future which, after all, is all that the present is made of, why then you may as well dispose of the empty shell of present and commit suicide. But the cold reasoning mass of gray entrail in my cranium which parrots "I think, therefore I am," whispers that there is always the turning, the upgrade, the new slant. And so I wait. What avail are good looks? To grab temporary security? What avail are brains? Merely to say "I have seen; I have comprehended?" Ah yes, I hate myself for not being able to go downstairs naturally and seek comfort in numbers. I hate myself for having to sit here and be torn between I know not what within me."
-- from The Letters of Sylvia Plath
she just gets it
0 notes
(TS4) POSE PACK N04 |& CAS|
Download: boosty | patreon | simfileshare
The author screenshots by @john-ts-sh-ai <3
Cast:
Bella Goth, Mortimer Goth, Nina Caliente, Nervous Subject,Mary-Sue Pleasant.
ENG | You will NEED
- andrew’s pose player
or WW (tutorial)
- teleporter any sim (x1 on the same spot)
or using mc command center
Including: 30 poses
unisex
all in one
CAS - mean or horse lover trait
| Tag ‘’ helgatisha ‘’ so I can see it
– The poses all of them are from the CAS traits and slightly edited. I hope it will be useful for you –
RUS | Вам НУЖЕН
- andrew’s pose player
или WW (урок)
- teleporter any sim (1 шт. в одном и том же месте)
или с помощью mc command center
входит: 30 поз
унисекс
все в одном
CAS - черта характера задира или любовь к лошадям
| Тэг ‘’ helgatisha‘’ так я увижу вас
please read and respect my tou
Linktree
683 notes
·
View notes
overblot! Riddle nonconning you in front of Ace and Deuce while going on about how this is the only thing a magicless nobody is good for 👍🏼
Omg yes,,,,,,,,
(cw: yandere, gender neutral, nsfw, non-con, humiliation/degradation, public sex)
Amidst a ruined, debris-ridden rose maze, a monster looms. No one dares stray close, lest they find themselves maimed and sent to the grave, and so they can only watch helplessly from the safety of overturned chairs, tables, and uprooted rose trees. The scene was once serene, an almost-perfect Unbirthday. Now it is desolate and bleak, a nightmarish reality that leaves thick, discomforting silence blanketing the grounds.
Riddle casts a grotesquely bone-chilling shadow, and his appearance mirrors that of a creature torn from the pages of a classic horror; that's the only way to describe him: cruel and cold, all sharp, vicious edges and thorns, dripping blot. He's on the verge of a supernova, toeing the line of life and death, a monstrous mage who has reached the consequences of a culmination of excessive magic, spilled over into bitter negativity. The aura that clings to him is, in a word, utterly terrifying.
And you're right there in his shadow, a fragile, caged thing bent down on your hands and knees. Your fingers curl into the grass, tearing clumps. No one dares to speak up, to demand he release you, to fight for your safety and dignity. Hopelessly collared, Ace and Deuce, your closest companions in all of this mess, look on in horror even though they don't mean to.
It's like a tragedy spun right before their eyes. They want to look away, but they can't. It's morbidly ensorcelling.
"Observe!" Riddle's voice booms, commanding absolute obedience and attention. His pallid hips press against your ass while clawed hands dig into your hips, holding you perfectly still. Blood is drawn; it seeps beneath his sharpened nails, leaving painful indents. You feel filthy and fearful, cut down to something small and insignificant and weak. Droplets of blot speckle your backside each time he shifts. It's warm like candle wax, but it doesn't burn.
The betrayal does, though—stains through to your very soul.
You grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes of drifting off elsewhere. Anywhere that isn't here, speared on his cock for all to see, forced into the grass like you're bowing apologetically before the Queen and her card soldiers.
"You lack the key capabilities all mages must possess, and yet you thought it wise to challenge my rules? Here? When my word is law?" He barks out a laugh, sickly amused. Scarlet eyes narrow with disdain. "Perhaps you're as slovenly as you are disobedient. As expected of a disrespectful, magic-less fool who knows nothing! Absolutely nothing of the order I so carefully uphold!"
He pulls back, seething through grit teeth, and snaps his hips forwards. You collapse on shaky arms, gasping in pain.
It hurts more than heartbreak, more than a bruise, more than a slap. Tears spot your lash line, threatening to fall with one more well-aimed, brutal thrust. Spidery fingers dance along your waist, tracing a line towards your neck. He grips your chin and forces you to look upon a crowd of terrified faces, all ogling with bated breath. Ace is watching and so is Deuce, albeit through the cracks in his hands.
"What did you hope to achieve—to prove—by defying me?" he demands, his grip a deadly vise. "That I could be in the wrong? That all I've worked tirelessly for, all that I've done, is wrong?"
"Riddle..." You wince in your futile attempt to pull away. "Riddle, please... I... I'm sorry, but please... You're hurting me..."
He turns your head towards him, eyes ablaze with a furious tempest, and he leans closer, pinning you with startling ease. His cock presses up against your insides, enveloped tightly in your walls, and you shudder through the discomfort and the agony. A single claw traces dangerously close to your jugular.
"Speak up if you have something to say!"
"It hurts!" You gasp again, outright sobbing now. "It hurts! Please..."
"It's a punishment," he sneers, glaring disapprovingly. "It's meant to impart a lesson—one learned through pain. If you understand this, stop sniveling and respond appropriately."
You're not sure which is worse: humiliation at the hands of someone you considered a friendly acquaintance or the fact that, no matter how villainous he may be, you only wish for him to return to himself. You'd never wish this fate on anyone, but maybe it's your too-big heart that makes it impossible to hate him. You don't hate him. You can't.
And perhaps that's the worst part of all this.
You hang your head, defeated and devoid of hope. "Yes, Dorm Leader..."
And so he teaches you and all those who witness the devastating spectacle a lesson neither will ever forget.
Red is passionate and fiery, a reflection of roses and redamancy. But it is not a pleasant color. Not anymore. Not in the aftermath.
Red is the color of Riddle and Heartslabyul and blood and pain and anger. And every time you spy the slowly healing marks from that day, you feel it all over you. Red everywhere, inside and out. Externally, you may heal with all matter of magical cures, but internally it's not an easy fix.
So red is no longer a comfortable color. You wish you could look upon it and admire it for what it is: a color. But that proves impossible, for a color that is so highly revered as pretty does not evoke pretty feelings for you.
291 notes
·
View notes
“Women can’t work under the pressures of urgency and special considerations inherent in much of the Agency’s work.” — From the 1953 report on the role of women in CIA, also known as the “Petticoat Panel”
“It’s somehow easier to endure together.” — Anton Chekov, from Complete Works of Anton Chekov; “A Living Chattel,”
In the 1980s, women made up 35% of those working in the CIA— even less traveled on official government business. In the 1980s and into the 90s, you worked for the CIA, tracking down one of the most dangerous drug cartels in history. You worked alongside countless men from other agencies like the FBI and the DEA to bring down the Medellín cartel— Javier Peña and Steve Murphy among them. They got to be the heroes. They got the praise. They got to tell their side of the story. Maybe it’s time you finally tell yours.
La Golondrina: The Prologue [1.1k]
Playing the Game: The Aftermath [4.0k]
The Palace in Flames: Back to work [3.8k]
58 notes
·
View notes
I'm surprised by the lack of popularity of Imodna. Don't get me wrong, the ship is popular, but it could be more.
These days, I was thinking about wlw/mlm representations, and it's just crazy how a majority of people seem more enthusiastic about mlm ships. I like mlm, but why would people prefer it? I don't understand the "love is love, but mlm > wlw" logic. I'm saying that because I'm pretty sure that if imodna was a mlm ship it would be waaaaaay more popular. When you search on AO3 (Critical Role) there are around 8353 mlm fictions and only 5434 wlw. Why?
It's like with powerful male characters vs powerful female characters. I mean if Philippa was Philippe, a powerful and morally grey gay sorcerer, I'm pretty sure he could be a top 5 fan favorite characters of the Witcher fandom. Same for sooooo many fictional characters. You only have to switch the gender to change the fandom perception of a character/ship.
Yeah I'm really random tonight but this thought was stuck in my brain and I had to write it down somewhere.
No offence to mlm or male characters btw.
Why am I thinking about that at midnight.
119 notes
·
View notes