find comfort in envisioning the end

mammalian sighing reflex

definitely one of my favorite pieces so far, and as a fan of sad music I relate so much I love it

new wilbur solo album? mine now nom have this

Glass Chalet

ID in alt click for higher quality

amazon standing lamp ⋆｡˚ — wilbur soot x reader

wilbur soot x fem!reader

will has everything he could ever want, then why does he still feel so empty?

18+ | minors please dni! angst and smut

cw: mentions of sex, different sex positions, descriptions of sex, angst, mentions of anxiety, wilbur is NOT okay and neither is the author

word count: 600+

a/n: finally had the motivation to write after a HOT MINUTE. was inspired by wilbur’s new album, mammalian sighing reflex. angst, just BIG ANGST.

“midday missionary, midnight loathing, midnight cowgirl, morning smoking”

your fingers clutch the cream coloured sheets under you, and you spread your legs wide, as wilbur thrusts into you. the sound of skin slapping fills your shared bedroom, your moans fill his ears. “mm, will, just like that…” you look up at him, and he looks at you like he sees right through you. you search his face, his brows furrowing in deep thought rather than pleasure. you manage to string together a sentence between his methodical, almost calculated movements. “hey will… you okay?” he snaps back to reality, looks down at your body and up at you, with a small smile on his face. yet, his eyes look like bottomless voids. you don’t say anything, and neither does he. he keeps going until you orgasm, and pulls out. you sit up, not caring about the post-sex exhaustion starting to set in your bones. “will… you didn’t finish? you okay?” he looks down at the floor. in that moment, he looks so damn vulnerable, so small, all bare. he sighs and looks at you from across the from as he’s putting his boxers back on. “yeah, yeah. i’m good. just not feeling it right now…” something just wasn’t right. you bit your lip, and smiled shyly, walking across the room. you knelt down in front of him, hands running across the waistband of his boxers. “i can help with that…” he looks and you with tired eyes and pushes your hand away gently. “look y/n, not right now, okay?” he walks away, leaving you on the floor, slight carpet burn making the skin on your knees sting.

you decide to leave him alone for a while, watching his disappear behind the door of his home office. you only see him around 9:00 pm, when he comes out to grab a plate of dinner you’d called him to eat an hour ago. you get up from your chair at the table. “i can warm that up for you, love!” you offer. he looks down at his plate, before sighing. “it’s fine.” you watch him walk away from you, yet again.

you go out for a walk to clear your head. he doesn’t ask where you’re going. you return at midnight, the apartment so quiet as if it were devoid of all life. you make your way to your bedroom. wilbur’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed, fiddling with a half burnt joint between his fingers. he sighs as he senses your presence. he puts out the joint on the wood of the nightstand, and motions for you to sit on his lap. you straddle his lap, your cold thighs resting against his warm ones. he pulls you in by your jaw, and kisses you like a man starved, teeth before tongue. he tastes like weed, and if you didn’t love the idea of it, you’d almost be disgusted.

time passes and somehow, you two end up tangled in each other’s arms. you smile into his neck. he looks at you blankly, before turning his head to the side, looking at the amazon standing lamp sitting on the nightstand, as you ride him. you moan wantonly, throwing your head back, elated at finally having gotten your boy back. meanwhile, a tear falls out of the corner of wilbur’s eye. but he plays along, he could never hurt the best thing to ever happen to him. he’s memorized every detail on the amazon standing lamp, the only constant in his life.

he has everything he could ever ask for, then why does he feel so empty?

random vent

y'all ever look at a Wilbur or Lovejoy tiktok or a fan tiktok & just get really sad because you miss when you thought he was this sweet fun British guy & you miss when you were able to not be disgusted by his music or is it just me?

i miss the feeling of wishing to go to a lvjy concert & being excited when Wilbur or Lvjy drops a new song. i miss being sad &/or bored & going to Wilbur's old vods to make me feel better. i miss being excited to watch Sorry Boys videos because there was going to be a new Bursona. i miss being excited to see Wilbur in any of Tommy's vlogs. i miss wanting Wilbur & Lovejoy merch. i miss dreaming about screaming the lyrics to Perfume, or The Fall, or It's Golden Hour Somewhere, or any Lovejoy song. i miss crying to Mammalian Sighing Reflex. i miss being excited whenever i heard Wilbur or Lovejoy songs in public. i miss being proud of Lovejoy whenever something good happened to them. i miss talking to my moots about Wilbur & Lovejoy. i miss being excited to write Wilbur fics.

i wish he was one of the good ones.

i wish we could have one good one.

Mammalian Sighing Reflex

wilbur soot dropping a new solo album on a random wednesday will fix all of my mental issues (it will make me worse oh god it will make me worse)

alright who had wilbur getting an abortion on the bingo card

Mammalian Sighing Reflex

million dollar question for all my non british lovejoy/wilbur music fans out there

when you sing one of their songs, do you mimic the accent???

cus i do and i don't know if thats a strange thing to do or not

the real question here is do u think squids n octos would or wouldnt have a (mammalian) sighing reflex .?

we thought wilbur couldn't go any harder with his music career and then he drops a twelve track album on a random wednesday and it's the best piece of music work he's ever done

who is this man???

bros sporting the TIGHT curlssssss

🚨💥

honestly? He might as well just shoot me at this point.