#having THOUGHTS

[concubi-thoughts]

Horny thoughts about tickling someone's lower tummy. Stretching them out over my lap, or over a pillow, hanging off the bed. Whatever I can to have that spot stretched out and vulnerable while my nails scritch and scribble right under their navel, wandering down to the line of their underwear, from hip to hip. Listening as they cackle and struggle to get me away from that one spot while I'm having the time of my life seeing how wet the tickling is making them.

[maggiecheungs]

REVOLUTIONARY GIRL UTENA ↳ EPISODE 23 / EPISODE 29 / EPISODE 39

[whoosh-whoosh-tardis-noises]

I think 73 yards is such an interesting metaphor for death.

Like from a very young age we are presented with it, it follows us but it’s blurry, unfocused, overwhelmingly present and yet always in the background. We ponder it on birthdays, during drawn out relationships.

Approaching it is terrifying, senseless, we want to escape but there is no where to go. Violence even to others becomes less desirable when reminded of your own mortality.

Eventually it will approach us, walking backwards, and become us all.

[bwabys-scenarios]

… stay at home husband Kurapika…

Greets you with a hug and kiss every day. He’s been through a lot, so doing some chores and making dinner is such a relief.

He doesn’t have to kill, bribe, or torture anyone for the scarlet eyes anymore, he’s safe with you.

Every day he gets on his knees, pushing up your skirt and happily lapping at your fat pussy, ready to be your good husband and take care of you!

And if you ever wanted to stop working, he’s got plenty of money from his days as a mafia boss. Just let him take care of you~

[ervotica]

whump with poly!rosekiller and their sweet angel girl. their treasure, the most precious person to ever exist. maybe it's voldy related, maybe it's someone holding a grudge against them, maybe it's a pureblood feud. unfortunately for the culprit, it doesn't matter, anyway. they're out for blood. feral. primal. nursing their sweet baby's injuries and fussing over her even as she whines and shies away from the affection, the intensity of it. even after all this time, sometimes it's a lot to process at once. their blinding adoration. when she finally drops into a fitful sleep in evan's arms, barty gives a curt nod as he stalks from the dorms, wand in hand.

the poor fucker won't know what hit them.

[pathetichimbos]

Thomas cries a lot.

He's always been sensitive, every since he was a kid. The names other kids and hell, even adults called him cut deep every time he heard them.

Idiot.

Monster.

Freak.

Tears pluck at his brown eyes harshly as the majority of the schoolyard torments him, the teachers turning blind eyes to the mistreatment, too busy making their own comments about his mother and family to intervene.

"S-Stop--!" He hiccups, hands desperately covering his face as he shakes against the metal fence, "G-Give it back!"

"Come get it, Freak!" The little boy taunts him, holding the mask Thomas' mother made for him high in the air, the group of children around him erupting in laughter.

"HEY! What the hell's goin' on over here!?" Hoyt hollers as he yanks the bully up by his wrist, the kids mocking laughter interrupted as they scatter, "What the hell's wrong with you, boy!? Did your Daddy raise you to take shit that ain't yours!?"

Hoyt plucks the mask from the kid's hand as he shakes his head, wide eyed and scared at being caught red handed.

"That's what I thought, so why don't you scatter before I give him a call and tell him what the hell you've been doin'."

"Yes, sir!" The kid darts as soon as Hoyt lets him go.

"Little shit." Hoyt mutters, kneeling down to help Thomas put his mask back on, "Now, I done told you, Tommy, you can't cry everytime one of those little bastards says some shit to you. Man up, you're too damn old for all that whinin'..."

Thomas nods, wiping the tears from his red eyes as Hoyt takes him back to the truck.

Man up...

Man up...

That's what Hoyt and Monty always told him, their words not much kinder and cutting even deeper as they picked at him everytime he cried.

Over the years the tears eventually turned to anger, and isolation. Hiding himself away from everyone and everything around him, protecting himself from from harsh world around him.

...And then there was you.

Sweet, excitable, gentle you.

"...Tommy...!" Your voice is tired and sweet, clearly having just woken up when Thomas came in the room.

He watches as you stretch, waking up a bit more as you look up at him, a small smile on your face.

He's tired. It's written on his face, eyes droopy and shoulders slumping, standing over the bed, looking down at you.

"C'mere." You reach for him, hands grasping as you gesture for him to climb in bed.

He does as he's told, climbing under the covers and into your arms, melting into your warmth as he lays on top of you.

"Mmm..." You hum, relaxing as your arms wrap around him, your hands running up and down his back, sending shivers up his spine, "...My Thomas..."

He sighs at your words, melting even further against you as your hands gain rhythm and begin rubbing his aching muscles, working up and down his shoulders and back as he buries his face in your neck.

You lean your head against his, the smell of the shampoo you bought for him filling your nose as you continue rubbing his back, "...I love you..."

The arms around your waist tighten as he presses further into you, completely engulfing you in his presence.

How?

How is it possible for you to love him so incredibly, and so deeply that he doesn't even need to hear those words to know their truth? How could you possibly break down every piece of him, every broken part and hideous truth and still make him feel like the only thing that matters in the world?

You can feel him start to shake. He's been working so hard, for so long. He's exhausted, and worn down. His body is scarred and calloused. His mind is weary and weak.

And every insult, every hit, every bad thing that he's ever gone through was worth it, if it means he can feel this loved for the rest of his life.

You feel his tears before you see them, the quiver in his shoulders, the hiccups in your ear as he tries to hold it back.

"Oh, Tommy..." You mutter, kissing his hair as you rub his back, "It's okay, sweetheart, you can cry, I've got you..."

And for the first time in a long time, he does.

He cries into your shoulder, a shaking and sobbing mess as you patiently hold him through it, running your hands through his hair and rubbing his back as you coax him.

"There we go..." You coo as he pulls back, holding his face in your hands while you kiss his tear stained cheeks, his mask long forgotten before he climbed into bed, "Do you feel better, love?"

He nods, letting out a deep sigh as he relaxes against you again, feeling more relief than he has in years.

"Good..."

...Thomas cries a lot. After years of believing he was never good enough to be loved, of believing his place was being locked away in the basement, forever shielding himself from the world that hated him, he was proven wrong by a single person who loves him more than every good thing put together.

And that thought alone brings tears to his eyes.

[lawrussoauto]

“will graham wouldnt mind being inlove with hannibal lecter if it didnt mean being inlove with a boy” do you know how silly you sound

[tasbcl]

18+!!

something about Connor discovering he has a breeding kink after he deviates, but more so when he meets you. it’s weird, he can’t reproduce, nor does he even feel the need to— he’s an android after all. but when it comes to intercourse, when he’s inside you, it’s almost primal and absolutely necessary that he fills you up with his synthetic cum. he probably gets a lil embarrassed at how silly he thinks he is for it.

[ghosttotheparty]

everyone tries to help eddie study but nothing works so steve finally suggests the whole ‘get something wrong, you take something off, get something right, i take something off’ and eddie’s just ‘steve harrington, you slut. i’m in’

he gets his first a the next week

[whump-obsessed-less-stressed]

Alright I just saw a post about restraints... and I'm curious now. What are your favorite ways of restraining your whumpees? 👀 And are those the most effective/practical?

[styllwaters]

I'm thinking about His Dark Materials again. Specifically the societal quirks that Lyra's world has as a result of everyone having their soul manifested outside their body in the form of dæmons. It's one of the most fascinating examples of worldbuilding I've come across tbh

Some of my most favourite tidbits:

Dæmons are named by the dæmons of the child's parents

It's taboo to touch another person's dæmon, but this is learnt, not instinctual

Children often settle arguments through their dæmons, with one accepting the dominance of the other (eg. Pan hissing at Annie's fox daemon in the first book to get her to back down)

The fact that people can tell when someone lacks a daemon even though they can be hidden out of sight (like a mouse in your pocket)

To the inhabitants of Lyra's world, looking at someone without a dæmon is like looking at someone without a head

These extra pieces of lore just make the world seem so magical but believable at the same time

[rochenn]

Dooku is so bitchless and lonely he'd fall for the fellow old guy tailor taking his measurements or something

[blixabargelds]

gale going silent in the stalag btw. and i mean not a word, some days something switches he wakes up and can’t talk. and it goes sort of unnoticed for a bit, because the brash men have grown louder and the reserved men have withdrawn further, and sometimes they’ve swapped but either way the place makes for the raw bits of all of them to come out, and gale’s reserved. and quiet. so who’s shocked when he gets quieter, who picks up on it when it’s not every single day, except of course john. who listens to every word gale ever says, many or few, so when there’s none at all of course he notices. and gale would love to explain it, why it comes and goes, but he can’t, especially not on one of those days where he can’t even say sure, bucky, or jesus, john.

but it’s not shocking either, when john speaks up for him. he’s done that since flight school. men don’t wholly pick up on it when gale’s asked a question, and john sees his throat work around nothing, and so john answers instead. and it scares john and it scares gale, but when john tucks gale’s head into his neck at night and says where’s that voice gone, doll, where’s that earth deep delicious drawl, and gale says nothing because he can’t john knows he might tomorrow. and if he can’t tomorrow john knows he can yap for two for a while yet. god knows no one can stop him.

[pickastitch]

sl!gem: i'm going to ruin your life in ways that you won't even be able to describe to a therapist, and because of that, you'll never get the help you'll need

sl!pearl: okay <3, yay :D

[zomb13queen]