#THE FUCKIGN

[yappacadaver]

[Verse 1] Why can't I make up my mind? Is this your knife in my back? Why's this mood swinging around Like an executioner swings its axe?

[Refrain] This is a warning You better stay away Just take a tiny step back It's in my DNA

[Verse 2] Where am I going? I lose control in the streets It's overflowing This transformation complete

[Refrain] This is a warning But get the fuck away We're gonna get darker It's in my DNA

[Verse 3] Beware and clear the streets The reaper is released Stare not into their eyes Or the angel of death you'll greet

[Chorus 1] Like it or not, you just got caught in a bloodbath Somebody throw me a party 'cause it's my debut 'Cause if I'm bathed in blood then so are you Don't give a fuck about nothing else, this is my bloodbath You ain't seen rage, you ain't seen wrath Now strap yourself in, motherfucker

[Bridge] I am the cosmos I am torment I bring forth life Witness my ascent

[Chorus 2] Sit your ass down because the shark is in town and it's a bloodbath I must share my discomfort with you Now bow to the power or be consumed Fuck the whole world 'cause it's coming unfurled and it's a bloodbath You have no clue The pain is transcending Now fuck up and die My patience is ending Oh, it's a bloodbath

[Outro] Why do I feel so big? Why do I feel so ugly? This is my only path It's our bloodbath It's our bloodbath It's our bloodbath

[many-gay-magpies]

HGWAHT THE FUCKH

[amygdalae]

Me in 2018: I can't thirst post that's embarrassing

Me now: I know he nuts loud and abundant

[snartles]

From my theatre experience. Every time an animatronic would move/disappear the entire audience would GASP AND SCREAM IN SHOCK

[thegreatgeodo]

Y UN MUDO CON TU VOZ

Y UN CIEGO COMO YO

VENCEDORES VENCIDOOOOOS

[radioactive-boba]

Behold!!! He is here!!!! I further fucked up my sleep schedule to get photos in natural lighting to show all the pretty details. Im so happy its done, i love him sm!!!! He sucked the soul straight out of my mortal body!!!!!!

[kermit-coded]

alex's physicality as kingskin is on point. i absolutely believe that is the soul of a teen girl piloting a hulking mob boss like a mech suit.

[solchariot]

the horse and the infant except its hermes and apollo

[moechies]

“not yet, doll.” toji purrs, fingers pumping in and out of your squelchy cunny relentlessly. he smirks against your head, lips pressing kisses against your temple as you pant breathlessly, helpless under his touch.

“y’can’t cum yet. y’know that.”

you cry, fingers grasping onto his sweats as you sob into his chest. your chubby thighs clad around his wrist, doing your best to slow his skilled fingers urging you dangerously close to your orgasm.

“stop— to—“

“y’don’t want me to stop.” he knows you terribly well, but that seemed like more of a threat right now. he leaves you with no choice but to take what is given to you. you throw your head back in defeat, laying against the man’s beefy bicep as your legs kick, and toes curl as a distraction to yourself.

“‘m gonna c-cum. please, i d-don’t wanna—“

“s not an excuse. y’know what’ll happen if you cum, hm?”

his fingers curl upwards against the soft walls of your cunt, making you squeal. creamy slick coats his fingers, eliciting the sloppiest noises that you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about in the gist of his abuse on your cunt.

“hnnn— toji..”

you wail, in hopes for some mercy in return. you claw at his hand, tugging at his wrists but he shakes you off with little effort.

“don’t touch me. bad girls who don’t listen don’t get t’touch their daddy’s.”

“i-i’m not a bad girl !” you debate, shaking your head against his chest in denial. your chest clenches when the throbbing in your cunt becomes intense, feeling your slick dribble below your butt creating a mess on the man’s lap. “‘m not—“ you whimper, still in denial when you feel yourself cream all over the man’s thick digits.

“hmm..” toji grins, removing his fingers from your cunt, emptying what once was so full. you pant, squirming at the loss of sensation, pouting up at him with puppy-like eyes, milked from any energy to argue back in your defense. he rubs against your clit swiftly, making you jump and squeak at the harsh touch to the sensitive bud.

“you came, little girl.” he gloats, holding his slick covered fingers before you. your face heats up at the way your own juices roll down his fingers, against his folded thumb, soon held up to your mouth. “open.”

and you obey, with bleary eyes looking up into his, but ignored just to have him tap his dirtied digits against your puffy lips.

“don’t make me repeat myself.” he spits. you part your lips shakily, and he wastes no time before plunging himself into your mouth and deep into your throat, pressing his fingers against your tongue. it forces a light gag, one that brings further tears to your eyes as you suckle gently on his fingers, tasting yourself on your tongue.

“mhm, just like that.” he affirms, bringing his free hand down against your swollen, milky cunt once again.

“we’re gonna try again, hm? but if y’cum early, i won’t let ya off this easy.” he mumbles against your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

[thedgeofsleep]

FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S (2023) — dir. Emma Tammi

[chungledown-bimothy]

I cannot overstate how much I love Tom Lehrer's story. It sounds so fake but is entirely real.

He's a goddamn genius- he started studying mathematics at Harvard when he was 15 and graduated magna cum laude. He worked at Los Alamos for a few years before being drafted and working for the NSA, where he claims to have invented jello shots to get around alcohol bans.

He then went back to Harvard for a couple years before starting to teach political science at MIT.

Through all of that, he was writing and performing both some of the funniest shit you'll ever hear (Poisoning Pigeons in the Park, Masochism Tango) and absolutely scathing political satire (Who's Next, Wernher von Braun, Send the Marines). Until the mid/late 60s counterculture gained momentum. He didn't like their aesthetic, so he stopped making music.

Shortly after, he moved to California and started teaching math and musical theater history at UC Santa Cruz for the next 30 years.

I don't know if non-Californians understand just how goddamn funny that is. It's where stoners and math (and now computer science) kids who couldn't get into Berkeley go. Leaving Harvard/MIT for UCSC is peak academic phoning it in. And by all accounts he had a blast.

Plus the whole putting all of his music in the public domain thing. That fucked.

[dollsghost]

simon eats it sloppy.

through the mask, slobbering on his hands and knees like the mutt he truly is; like his only salvation is the ichor that drips between your thighs. like your cunt is the only thing that could save his wretched, blackened soul. he wants to roll in the tang that'll stay on the back of his tongue for weeks into deployment, that'll stay soaked into the fabric of his balaclava because fok no he isn't washing it before he leaves (he'll nearly tears the thing to shreds when he can no longer smell you on it).

large, calloused palms scratch over the sensitive skin of your quads and inner thighs as he opens you up for him, watches your folds part like that of a carnation (love, devotion, distinction, fascination) as he pushes your knees up to your chest. drags his tongue all over you, the creases where your vulva and thighs meet and gets you shaking before he's even touched your clit. before he's even taken the mask off. brushes his thumb over the little bud reverently, fondly. he thinks the way your thighs tremble in response is the most precious fucking thing.

and when he finally breaks watching you drip onto the cushions below, he's feral. rabid. barely gets the damned mask up to free his mouth before he's on you again, slurping up your slick and sucking your clit into his mouth. the suction is heavenly after so much teasing, and if his tongue finds its way to your ass too, that's his business. your toes curl in the air where your feet dangle uselessly, panties you're sure that simon will pocket later still around one ankle.

simon's relentless when he's like this, a dog chasing after it's favorite toy. he won't let up, won't even palm over his cock until you're at least three climaxes deep from his mouth alone. totally pussydrunk and ready for more.

[kanakori]

the way this fag didnt even try to look away from what he thought was his best friend getting that sloppy toppy

the second gif,,,,.... please ,....

[smileymoth]

i think it would've been very funny if tommy had also shown up in a suit

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 5 - I Finally Finished the 2.2 Main Quest Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 6]

[carmineskiesandspidereyes]

Fear toxin as an inhibitions-wiper for emotionally-closed-off character angst and hurt/comfort is fun and all but. gang listen. I think. I think for Tim we’ve been going about it wrong. because I’ve seen Plenty of “Tim drake on fear toxin would be SO BRAVE and try SO HARD but eventually break down crying and need reassurance about his abandonment issues.” Very common take. It drew me, it was sweet, it was fun, but—listen.

Instead, what I wanna see is “Tim drake on fear toxin would go full-steam, 100%, unsettlingly analytical.” I wanna see him get neurotic as fucking hell. Consider. What if it wiped his filters, not by going “your family does not want/love you,” but with a broader “the feeling of general security and safety you’ve had is no longer a certainty. There’s danger here. Find it.”

Send him into survival/panic mode—And for Tim, make that look like the most stone-focused information control of his immediate environment that you can imagine. Like—! It might not even make a good fic! It might just be him going radio-silent for 24 hours, because he holed up in a safe house running 7 different programs on every piece of tech he owns. I just.

Please. Do you see it? The effects of fear toxin on Tim “I have contingencies for situations you couldn’t dream up on acid” Drake. Please.