#I'm fuuucked

[naughtyjjk]

the jjk men teasing you with a vibrator and making you endure hours of stimulation, playing with the settings cruelly to keep you always on the edge. they turn it up higher, higher, higher until you're so fucking needy and dripping with arousal. you're moaning, god yes, begging them for just a little more... a little more and you'll come—

and then it stops. heat rushes through your body and you arch your back, hips thrusting into the air, into nothing. fuck. fuck! you're left unsatisfied and so desperate, so close, so fucking close.

they lick their lips, drinking in the sight of you as you're denied your orgasm. their cock is rock hard but they don't pay it any attention, focusing all on you as you fall away from the edge, making sure that you don't come.

and they're evil; it turns them on so much to see you squirming on the bed, completely under their control, moaning their name, please, please please—

but all they do is taunt you. aw, baby, did you think you could come so easily? you want it so bad, don't you? but you need to show me that you deserve it.

and they click the remote to start the vibrations all over again from the lowest setting. building you up, increasing in intensity. they know all your tells, know when you're getting close and exactly when to stop to make you extra frustrated and so damn horny. they use the knowledge against you, denying your orgasm again and again for as long as they want.

good girl. i know you can take it, they say, cock twitching as they force you to edge countless times. keep being good for me, just like that, and you'll get to come... eventually.

[lazylittledragon]

hi i'm unw el l

[stealthywing]

I'm unwell.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[indifferentinfatuation]

uncut episode 4 leg kiss my beloved

[natjennie]

GAOAUGUGHH... god... "was there something you wanted to share?" "w-w-well.. um.. I'm uh... I'm- unable. to think of anything. that would merit sharing" like... that final I'm is SO close. he gets SO CLOSE. you can hear it. he's gonna say it and his mouth won't let him. the way he is actively fighting for every word that comes out. he wants to. he wants to say it. I'm.

[cryptid-crusader]

Look. Larian made Halsin too powerful. Every word that man says, every time he looks at my tav with his shiny soulful eyes, I hoot and holler and melt and my brain short circuits. He's too much and I love him SO MUCH.

[flowing-between-space]

.

[paradoxgavel]

got both endings in hw2 and now it is time for me to be really, really sad about cassie's dad!!

[tropicalcontinental]

So what if Andrew and Nicholas went to same college and met, what then? (Blabbering below)

My thought process was that I rewatched those FST videos and started to wonder if Nicholas just repressed the whole AI Builds thing (since Mr. Eye is telling him to wake up so like he lost control of Nicholas somehow) and yeah his mental health and experience during game development was pretty heavy for Nicholas so he just, uh, blocks it out. Again.

And I was thinking about Lethe Protocol and how that basically made Andrew forget about his old videos and partially about Chris (as a way to prevent him from going down the same path Chris did and to try and mitigate the Call of the Well.)

So uh... What if Lethe Protocol just happens post “Into the Mind?” Chris does it again because the distress this is causing Andrew doesn't seem to be worth it anymore. He changed his stance. The easier way out is better. Being persistent shouldn't lead to pain. Andrew's happy memories shouldn't be tainted with Chris' death.

But like last time, this Protocol isn't as clean as it should be (Andrew was a lot further into the Well than before.) Just like how Andrew eventually remembered and subconsciously followed the Well's call, it will happen again. Delaying the inevitable, yadda yadda.

But for the time being, Andrew forgets the channel, which actually leads to it being abandoned. RIP. Completely forgets Chris (which fucks with his memories a lot.) Wells and Minecraft in general become weird for Andrew (they bring up strange and splotchy memories that hurt) and he doesn't know why.

And Nicholas is just grappling with his dissociation issues in general. Trying to look forward when his past is so blurred and spotty. What ambition does he have if he doesn't even know who he is. Struggling with creation and trying to connect with people and so many other things. Just trying to understand how other people make living look so easy.

So yeah both of these guys meet! IDK what the hell they would do if they met (maybe make music together.) Or how they meet. Maybe Andrew is just strumming on his guitar aimlessly and Nick just so happens to be in the area. Manage to strike up a small conversation.

Maybe they talk about butterflies and wells and how they both have weird reactions to these mundane items (If they even get that candid to other people in real life.) Then Nicholas asks Andrew to play Wonderwall.

[the-gentler-gamester]

This is UNACCEPTABLE

[plinkcat-gif]

tagged by @enevera

make a poll with five of your all time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. see which character is everyone's favourite

5 guys of all time probably jesus FUCKING christ

ermmm @trialserrors my only mutual i'm not scaried of tagging.................... but any mutuals who think this looks cool consider urself tagged^_^

[klug]

Submitted my master's application today fuuuuck

[petrodragonicapocalypse]

fuck it. posting all of these. peace and love on planet earth

(liverpool 26.05.24)

[askinkiskarma]

@jakexneytiri YOUR AI IS TOO MUCH, I LOVE IT :(((( made me sweat and pant and shit. DANIIII!!!!

[happyk44]

"I'm not leaving you behind! It is my duty," he hissed. "I swore myself-"

"Your swore yourself because you had no choice, Percy." Her eyes were endless dark, devoid of feeling, of life. "You had a price to pay for your mother's life and this was your only offer." Her thin fingers cup his face through the bars. "You didn't choose to be my protector." She gave a weak laugh that made his stomach plummet to the floor. "You're not even my guard yet, not really."

Like a phantom, her touch slid down his cheek. He caught her wrist before her fingertip stopped gracing his skin. He could feel the rounded edge of her fingernail poke against him. Silence held fraught between them.

"Bianca-"

"Percy," she cut in, voice so sharp it cut him to the core. "I want you to survive. You're free. Take advantage of that, and go. Now."

"I can't go back without you," he said, quickly. She didn't fight his hold, but still his grip tightened. As though the harder he held her, the more she would stop protesting her escape. "You are-"

"Dead." Her lips thinned. "I'm dead, Percy. I was dead the moment they got their hands on me and I will be dead before either one of us even makes it beyond these walls, but you-" Her voice cracked, eyes watering.

He shook his head. Blood pounded in his ears. He didn't want to hear what she was going to say, wanted her to stop, wanted it all to stop. Just for a moment.

But it didn't, and neither did she. With a deep breath, she carried on, "You can make it. You can live. But only if you leave without me, so go."

His lungs burned. She inhaled so deeply, spoke so forcefully, and it made him hold the air in his chest until he couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't breathe, maybe she would. But his chest ached. Self-loathing wedged itself like a rock in his throat as he let go. The sound of his own breath was like nail on chalkboard.

"Percy," she whispered. He shook his head and leaned in closer. Although tears hadn't yet fallen, her eyes were still wet. They glistened like the night sky. Her forehead pressed against the bars.

He looked away. The brick wall to his left was growing a fair bit of moss in the corner. "What's our star again?"

She laughed. It was a watery thing that choked him where he stood. Memories of standing the long grass, moonlight shining off the river, while she read her books beside him. Every so often, she'd look up at the night sky and search for the brightest star that month. She'd tell the stories behind the constellations. Or at least the stories from her kingdom. Any time she told a story, a fantastical myth, she'd follow up that her brother knew more - Nico, the quiet prince with a voracious appetite for legends and monsters.

Then, if she could spot the brightest star that month and if she recalled, she'd tell him what it meant for the people born that month. At least, in their hemisphere anyway. The stars were different elsewhere. Sometimes she'd crack open the newspaper, the stark image of her father, and read aloud the horoscopes.

He still remembered the incredulous sound she made when he told her they shared the same birthday. She'd dragged him to the library to refresh her memory on their star. Then argued furiously that he did not share the same traits as her.

It was a silly thing. She didn't believe it. He didn't either. But it was the first time they hadn't played the stiff act of royal princess and her knight-in-training. Not Percy holding his tongue and following strictly one step behind. Not Bianca doing her best to pretend he wasn't her shadow.

Awkward civility and stiffness carried thick between them from the moment Percy had been casted into his role. But that night, with the sound of yelling and laughter still echoing in their ears, they made an agreement. They didn't have to be the best of friends, but they sure could be casual with each other. After all, they were going to be stuck with each other for the rest of their lives.

At least... they were supposed to be.

Slowly each finger detached one by one until all that was left was his palm pressed against her wrist. Then that fell away too. Still he couldn't bare to turn his head and face her.

"Leo," she said. "The lion. Strength, pride, loyalty, confidence."

A stabbed orange toy on new year's day passed through his mind. "Sacrifice."

It was quiet for a beat. Then, "Yes." His heart hammered so fast he could feel it in his throat. "The lion represents sacrifice."

What was he supposed to say? He wanted to run, to turn the lock with the key he stole, take her and run. Run far and fast. But deep inside, he knew she was right. He could get by undetected. No one cared about a child knight, not even yet passed his training. He could blend in and slip out. Even if he got caught, they wouldn't nearly put in as much effort to get him back as they would if she were with him.

She was right.

She was already dead.

He swallowed thickly and met her eyes again. The night sky glistened back at him and he thought of constellations and warm handshakes and kind agreements and silly arguments. Breath caught in his throat. "I'll miss you," he whispered, voice hoarse.

Her lips twitched. "I'll miss you too." She blinked, and one tear slid down her cheek. He tracked the wet trace it left behind until it welled up at the bottom of her chin and dripped to the floor. "Will you do me a favour?"

"You're my princess," he said. "I would do anything for you."

It was a weak smile she gave before she spoke. The sight of it crushed him. "Tell my family I love them." Her breath escaped from her shakily. She pushed back her hair. A classic move to hide the nerves that drove her hands to tremble ever so slightly. "And take care of Nico. Please."

"I will," he promised.

Her smile strengthened ever so slightly. But the tears fell fast now, one right after the other. Her face tilted away at the first streak. He immediately turned his line of sight back to the brick wall. Weakness, sadness, grief - she hated being seen with any of them. He always respected it. Look away until she was done. Don't speak, don't ask her anything, don't help her. Just look away and stay silent unless she calls out.

So, even as his mind's eye was trapped in the wet track of tears on her skin, the hitched sound of her breath holding in a cry, he turned and headed back for the dungeon's door. The doorknob twisted in his hand. The door cracked open.

"Percy."

He held stiff. "Yes?"

"Don't forget the bracelet."

Heat burned at the back of his head. In his pocket, the bracelet felt heavier than the weight of the world. When he had first arrived, she gave it to him. When he refused to take it, insistent that she could deliver it to Nico herself, she shoved it into his pocket herself. Like a ghostly stain, his thigh still tingled with the forceful and firm press of her hand. He was sure it always would.

"I won't."

"Stay safe," she said, a princess in a dungeon ready and waiting to die.

His heart shattered. Still, he kept his head held high. "I will."

Then, without another word, he left the girl he had spent the last three years training to protect. He was meant to die for her. It was the role he had accepted the night he and his friends had stormed the castle and pleaded for help with his dying mother. He didn't argue. He didn't plead. Without hesitation, he swore his life away for hers. Without hesitation, he swore his last breath would be hers.

Yet she was the one embracing the eternal coldness to come. She was the one breathing weakly so he could breathe strong. She was trading away her life for his. She was the lion, giving a mighty roar before the dawn of a new year. She was the sacrifice, held down by chains with a glistening sharp blade raised above her head.

But he wasn't the one lowering it upon her neck. No, he was the cold breath of winter. The first drop of snow. The wilting grass. He was the barren wasteland that drove her out into the open. He was the starving masses desperate to live. He didn't have to drop the blade. He didn't have to use his own hands to spill her blood across the ground. His survival was her end. And that made him her killer anyway.