#Playing in me mind

[ghoul-butch]

i love my fans 💚

(for context anon (blank account) is trying to figure out how to misgender me)

[when-sanpape-arts]

shuro's terrible, horrible, no good very bad lunch.

restaurant au: 1 / 2

[watmalik]

Wolverine being a confirmed boy kisser by Hugh Jackman.

[wink-and-whisper]

"I'm okay with it, too .."

[usurperss]

Created a hot lesbian tiefling sorceress for fun and

[twingeof-cosmic-angst]

Rose: do you actually get paid? Do they give you money?

The Ood: The Beast and his armies shall rise from the pit to make war against God :)

Rose: weird thing to call your union leader but fuck yeah man power to the people

[croudjay]

It makes him so mad

[radiosummons]

This is supposed to be the outfit that "protects" Link from acquiring frostbite pfffttt

Between this top and the mandatory acrylics that come with the new arm, gotta say I'm loving how much Nintendo keeps leaning into GNC Link XD

MINI UPDATE: (Guys, I've already updated this post with the correct info. The "protects" part was supposed to be a joke about how skimpy the outfit was. I didn't realize the outfit gave an attack bonus at first, either. That was it. That was the post. You don't need to keep sending me messages trying to inform me about the frost attack. I know, I promise).

Update I: Just realized they gave him a set of blue acrylics for his left hand

Link really do be out here serving cunt 💅💅✨✨

Update II: Many thanks to the people who pointed out that this outfit gives you a special frost attack when in cold temperature areas, it doesn't actually protect you from the elements. I'll be honest, I am purposely avoiding any guides or walkthroughs for my TotK playthrough (since I'm trying to replicate my BotW experience). When I found the Frostbite Shirt, I was just happy that I finally had a piece of clothing that I thought could protect me from dying of hypothermia (was chugging spicy elixirs like you wouldn't believe) so I didn't notice the attack bonus until a bunch of you pointed it out lol

[factual-fantasy]

Ya'll.. hear me out-

[socallmedaisy]

absolutely obsessed with the implications of the different versions of the ballad now we have the full picture. it really is a masterclass in songwriting.

we start with nicky's version. the road is a metaphor for death, but it's about acceptance ("tame your fears, a door appears, the time has come to go"). it resolves musically, we end on the note we began on. it's in a major key, it sounds happy. it's a fun little tune.

agatha takes this and twists it in the version that plays over the montage of her killing covens. some of the chords are the same (A and D in the chorus) but they're minor versions now. it sounds dark and sad. agatha is grieving. when the other witches join in the harmonies are sinister, adding notes from the minor key. this becomes canonised in the sacred chant version: for 260 years agatha has been stuck grieving nicky.

enter lorna wu. her version is in a different key (p sure it's E flat major at the start). there are still some minor chords but the overall effect isn't the same, it's a major key. partly this is a trick of the instruments and the rock/pop vibe but we know there's a still a mother's grief about not being able to save her child (and herself?) in there, but she's more positive about this than agatha was: she accepts her own death, and she will protect alice if she can, but ultimately the road is still a metaphor about death and everyone walks it, but this time lorna changes the lyrics (the door doesn't appear to death in this version, it appears "to love that never dies" the people we love stay with us after death). and then the bridge. now a bridge musically takes us somewhere new, quite often it signals a key change, a turning point in the lyrics, something shifting. here I think the function is to show us that lorna is not accepting of agatha's static version of the ballad that has stayed the same (unable to move past her grief). the key modulates to a minor one (I think it's A minor), it's sad as lorna tells alice that though lorna will die, she'll always be with her: "if I can't reach you... if I can't hold you, remember what I told you". I think it's significant the last chorus is "we" go down, down, down the road. everyone walks the road to death. it's part of life. agatha can't accept this, but lorna does. she'll see alice at the end.

[disastersareajoy]

Pussy Drunk Thomas Hewitt - Drabble

Thomas Hewitt x FEM!Reader

Tags: established relationship, cunnilingus, forced orgasms, talk of bruises, wet and messy, squirting, dacryphilia, overstimulation

Word count: 1.1k

fucking obsessed with the idea of Thomas getting absolutely, down bad, pussy-drunk as soon as he gets a taste

like his virgin-ass being too afraid of hurting you to fuck you at first and getting on his knees for you. he gets a taste, kind of pulls back and licks his lips and you can see his pupils dilate and his eyes fucking glaze over and he just falls face first into your pussy

sloppy, wet, spit slick, hungry oral from that man. his teeth bump into you in all the right ways sometimes. one moment he's whimpering into you and the next he's grumbling and trying to get his tongue deeper and deeper into you to taste more

and it does not matter to him when you beg for him to slow down and how you can't cum anymore. because you keep dripping on his face and tongue and making wonderful noises and you just taste so fucking good, how could he stop??

his arms wrap around your thighs and he holds onto them hard and firm and keeps you pulled close to his face. you can feel that it's gonna bruise and you're going to cherish those bruises for days

he doesn't even notice how hard he's gripping you because he's trying to get all of his senses filled with you. he tastes, smells and feels nothing but you. the only thing his ears can focus on are your moans and whimpers. his hands massage your thighs periodically and when he opens his eyes it's just to look at your face, thrown back in pleasure. the only thing better is when you're looking down at him with tears in your eyes, still moaning for him

Tommy is completely drunk off your taste. he loves the feeling of your pussy on his tongue and he loves the little whining groan you let out when he sucks on your clit

now, when he keeps going and going and your hand in his hair trying to push him away finally falls to your side, he doesn't even realize what he's doing next. it's all out of instinct when his hands readjust so his arms stay wrapped around your thighs but his thumbs are spreading open your folds. that's when he really loses it

because he can get his tongue even deeper like that. he can bury it inside you and find the spot that makes you drip a little more and that makes you moan all broken and needy. once he finds it he abuses the fuck out of it. keeps licking over it, poking at it with his tongue and savoring every drop of you that spills into his mouth

and then. his holy grail. you grab his hair again and moan louder. you're sobbing and begging him to slow down because it feels different this time. he doesn't listen of course. all he knows is you're about to do that thing again where he can feel your pussy flutter and twitch and your thighs squeeze around him and your moans get all whimpery

he keeps going until your hips lift up into him. he stays attached to your pussy and keeps doing what he's doing, knowing he can't stop. needs to keep going to get you to do that thing

suddenly you gasp and go completely quiet. then you moan so loud it's almost a scream. a sobbing sort of thing that's absolutely gorgeous to him. on top of that your hips start wildly shaking along with your legs and your pleasure starts gushing out of you

Tommy moans into your juices and gets closer if that's even possible at that point. he shakes his head so he rubs over your clit side to side while he keeps his tongue abusing that spot inside you. and fuck does he get drenched. he swallows down as much as he can of you and whimpers into it. anything he can't get, drips down his face and drenches his shirt and lap

once you come down you realize he's still going and you can't handle it anymore. you start crying more and weakly kicking your legs out which finally makes Tommy look up. he sees your devastated face and while he thinks the sweat mixed with tears and drool, as well as the tortured pleasure in your eyes is a heavenly sight, he listens to your weak pleas

he finally pulls away and you sigh in relief. Tommy stays away from your pussy (as much as he hates it) and spends his time licking your thighs clean. just a minute away from your pussy makes him whimper and look up at you pleadingly. your legs are still shaking and you shake your head at him

so Tommy whines and starts biting your thighs instead, getting closer and closer to your pussy until he's mouthing right next to it. you're shaking and sweating and still losing a coupe tears when he licks flat over your clit once. then your back arches and you gasp, trying not to make too loud a noise

you know if you moan he's gonna start again and you think he might actually kill you that time. he softly licks over your clit again, wraps his lips around it and you slap a hand over your mouth. but Tommy sees your lack of noise as a sign to keep going and starts sucking on your clit. when his teeth graze over it your hand whips away from your mouth to his hair and you yell out a moan that ends with a broken whine

immediately you know you're in for it. Tommy moans happily and grabs your thighs hard once more. he dives into you again and gets back to his sloppy, needy and enthusiastic pace without hesitation. all you can do is moan, whimper and whine as Tommy makes you see stars over and over again

he's obsessed with making you squirt on his face and listening to your whimpers as he tastes you. he loves the feeling of your heartbeat in your clit, pounding against his tongue

sometimes you can't get him off of your pussy until he's had at least a couple hours of his way with you. he's obsessed with your pussy and a single taste makes him entirely lose his mind. he'd do anything to fall to his knees in front of you

he would spend forever between your thighs if it was up to him

your pussy is his paradise and his salvation. every gush of your juices is a baptism of wonder. you are his goddess and he worships you at every turn

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for getting my best friend killed?

I swear to God, it was an accident.

My (27) BF (34) has a reputation for getting himself out of any jam you can imagine; and at first it was just a fun little thing the friend group noticed: there goes Oily J wiggling his way out of trouble again. but as the meme evolved in the group, it got to the point where we'd loykey started getting him into situations just to see how he'd get out of 'em, and he akept getting out of em. He was having fun with it too same as us. "Oh you guys," he'd say, "getting me into situations again," before laughing it off and getting out of it, so it was enrichment for our shared enclosures, and as time went on, the situations got more intense.

The trouble is, it turns out that putting a man in too many situations eventually gets the police interested. And not local hobsknockers cops either; they was like, proper three-letter FEDs. They put out a bounty on any information pertaining to his capture and everything. It was good money too so I thought, hey why don't I put J in another situation he can wiggle out of like always (and he'd wiggled outta worse before, so I thought this one'd be relatively mild), and at the next boardgame night (cause it was too late to do anything special for this one) we can buy some extra strong booze and get absolutely blitzed while having a giggle about the situation.

Boardgame night, and we were playing some social deduction nonsense or another and he says: "One of you is gonna betray me tonight." and I can't help but think, looking back on it, that he knew. It's stupid, I know he was talking about the game, but the way he said it, it was like he knew. We all felt it, and we had a big round robin round the table taking turns promising that we'd never betray him. And I said it so easily cause I thought it was true. Sure, I was gonna talk to the feds about a bounty; but, I fully expected my big beautiful oily boy to wiggle his way out of the trouble I was 'bout to cause, and that's not a betrayal. I wasn't lying. I didn't think I was lying.

My big beautiful oily boy didn't manage to wiggle his way out of it. They killed him and I got my blood money. He's gone.

He's gone and I'm devastated, crying, mourning. I loved him so much. We all did. And I can't stop thinking that it's my fault: that I'm the reason he's gone. and it is. and the guilt is eating me up inside. and I just need to talk to someone about it. So, I tell the rest of the group what happened in the group chat, hoping they'd understand that I didn't want this. I didn't want the government's blood money. It was supposed the be a prank. some joint enclosure enrichment. He was supposed to wiggle out of it like he always does... did, i mean.

They call me, among worse things, the asshole and kick me from the group chat. And, I know it's my fault he's dead: I know that. If I didn't do what I did, he wouldn't be dead right now. But, I didn't mean it for it to end up this way. He was supposed to be okay, damn it. I loved him. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[ba1laur]

i miss goats

[sleeplessflow]

first class flight attendant

[horsemeatluvr23]

i had a dream where etho accidentally called bdubs 'john' on stream,, and in retaliation bdubs said 'yes horace'..... and that's how we found out etho's real name is freaking. Horace.

[novelconcepts]

Keep seeing people confused by Agatha letting the world believe she traded her son instead of telling the truth, but…kinda tracks, tbh. Not for the rational mind, of course. Not if you’re looking at it clearly.

Which Agatha isn’t.

She did the worst thing, in her mind. She fell asleep. She fell asleep, knowing Death had bookmarked her son for later, and when she woke, found him snatched out from under her. She failed him as his mother. She let go. And all the power in all the world wouldn’t be enough to bring him back.

So does the wildly grieving woman who has just lost her only child (to presumably her greatest love, but that’s a city-sized suitcase for another day) let herself go through the process of coping with and adapting to that grief? Fuck no! What is she, common?? She goes on a power bender! Even though the kid she prized in her heart of hearts seemed less than into that very thing! Even though that kid may have been able, given enough time, to convince her to stop! So now, not only did she fail him, but she also opted to speed race down Murder Road! For power! That she still won’t ever be able to use to get him back!

It gets muddled, after decades and centuries of this feeling. It grows teeth. In a way, she did trade him for power. In a way, she’ll always have that sitting on her chest. Never mind that it’s not true. Never mind that she wasn’t a bad mother at all (in this respect, anyway). Never mind that he was sick, and this was always coming. For Agatha, who has been stewing on this story she’s been telling herself for centuries, it is what happened. She traded her son. She did the unforgivable. She fell asleep.