#i come bearing gifts

[tttlyerrr]

still haven’t played the game lol oopsies

[danielsarmand]

Un Professore 2.12 · Epicuro: Tra Vita e Morte

[sav-not-tav]

this is what heaven looks like, if you were wondering

[miyaagis]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ MIYAAGIS' KINKTOBER M.LIST .ᐟ

depravity knows no boundaries, and your favorite masked men are proof of that.

updates every thursday around 9pm-ish CST ♡

minors and ageless blogs are NOT welcome, dni

explicit content ahead, dark themes included. each fic has its own warnings, so please be mindful of your own triggers

 ெ˚❀ if we leave, will anybody notice? [ 03.10 ]

featuring minotaur-mask-wearer!toji as our main loverboy <3

warnings: tba

 ெ˚❀ no shame in greed [ 10.10 ]

featuring phantom of the opera inspired-suguru ♡

warnings: tba

 ெ˚❀ seen this angel? [ 17.10 ]

featuring gas mask wearer-satoru sorta my bloody valentine inspired but not really

warnings: tba

 ெ˚❀ surreal [ 24.10 ]

featuring shigure sohma wearing a dog mask, like the dog he already is hehe

warnings: tba

 ெ˚❀ simply be mine [ 31.10 ]

featuring ghostface!sukuna as your sweet boyfie !!

warnings: tba

[topnotchquark]

Okay I found this Italian TV commercial starring the VR46 Academy boys! Tune in if you want to watch Luca and Cele as altar boys and Pecco on his knees confessing.

TW: Uccio. As a priest.

Apologies I could only download this poor quality video and had to alter it a little. You can find the video here.

[delusional-cryptid]

I’ve been getting into collage lately… teehee :3

[foxwithapen]

"Wait!" Mario jumped up from the bench he had been sharing with Luigi as they looked out at part of the castle's sprawling gardens. "The princess! She should've been back by now."

Luigi set off after him, their footsteps pounding against the cobbled pavement. "Bro," he huffed, "I'm sure they're both okay!"

They both turned the corner at the same time, passing around the weathered stone walls to reach the garden. The flowers were still in bloom that time of year, the warm sunlight filtering beautifully onto them through the lively green trees. And there, sat at a table in the middle of the lush, green grass, were Bowser and the princess.

"Here, just like this." Peach guided Bowser's hands, gingerly grabbing another one of the cut wildflowers from the center of the table. Luigi and Mario watched from the distance as she helped Bowser braid the flowers into a thin chain. Every so often he accidentally broke the stems with his claws, as easy as one might rip through spider silk. Peach just laughed, handing him a fresh flower. It warmed Luigi's heart to see the smile that rested so easily on both of their faces.

When Peach finally noticed the brothers, she flagged them down with a wave. "Aw, don't be a stranger! There's enough flowers for all of us."

Luigi could immediately tell the ease in his brother's body language, how his shoulders relax and his smile grows. Luigi grabbed his arm, returning Peach's cheery wave as the two went to join them. "Sorry for intruding."

"No, not at all! Come, sit." She pulled out the chair next to her; it was small and metal, decorated with delicate floral patterns. He was wondering why Bowser had been sitting on the ground.

The air felt tense as Mario and Bowser locked eyes. Their animosity practically hung in the air, thick and smothering.

"Mario."

"Bowser."

Peach clapped her hands together, instantly commanding their attention. "Boys, boys. All I want is peace, and that doesn't just apply to my kingdom. Let's have a nice time while we're here, okay?"

She took the two completed flower crowns she had sitting in front of her, and rested one of them on Mario's hat. Bowser had to crouch over even more than he already had been so she could slide the crown onto one of his horns; it barely fit.

"Sorry I didn't make one for you, Luigi," she said, already gathering more flowers, her fingers nimbly weaving them together with impressive speed. "My priorities were on the little troublemakers here."

"Hey!" Mario called out indignantly.

She laughed, bending over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. Mario's face rivaled the color of his clothes. "Only joking, darling. Come now, how about we all get to know each other? It looks like we have a new friend at the table after all."

Bowser's eyes widen at that. "Uh, Princess—"

"You can just call me Peach, you know."

"Right, Peach. Listen, I-uh, I'm sorry." The words came out strangled, as if they were forced from his chest. Luigi reached over and squeezed his hand for encouragement. However, he could only really get his hand around one of Bowser's fingers. "I've done some bad stuff. I did them well, and looked really cool while doing it—" Luigi cleared his throat "—but still," Bowser continued. "I'm sorry."

She smiled good-naturedly. "Well, Bowser, I appreciate your apology. And I, for one, really like this side of you. And I don't think I'm the only one."

Luigi didn't need to face her to know who she was looking at. His color rivaled his brother's.

She continued with a wave of her hand, feining obliviousness. "There's only one more thing you should feel sorry about..."

Bowser had caught onto the playfulness of her smile, something Luigi hadn't. "And that might be?"

She sniffed. "You should feel terrible that you made me and Luigi eat that cake! I didn't think you were that much of a monster."

Bowser laughed; it was a deep, hearty sound, so lacking of its usual malice but just as powerful. "Well, what do you want me to do to about it, huh?"

She pretended to think, but Luigi could tell she already knew what to say. "Hmm, well, for starters, how about I teach you how to bake an actual cake? One that doesn't have a whole tablespoon of baking powder in it."

Bowser grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the warm sun. "I'm sure the kids would love that."

"They're not the only ones." This time, it was Bowser who looked at him, his eyes like a blazing fire. Not a wildfire, but something softer. Warmer.

It was one of the most beautiful things in the world.

"Well, in that case, I might have to take you up on your offer, Princess."

"Peach."

Luigi didn't hear Bowser's comeback, although he knew there must've been one. He was too busy watching his brother; to see the distrust in his eyes melt away like ice...well, it really was a beautiful afternoon.

[many-gay-magpies]

hello tales of arcadia fandom

( pose on the right semi-referenced from this wonderful troll!jim art )

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

“don’t let them sell you any armor”

Chapters: 1/3

Chapter Word Count: about 2400

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: G

No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Félix Fathom/Kagami Tsurugi, Alya Césaire & Kagami Tsurugi

Characters: Kagami Tsurugi, Félix Fathom, Alya Césaire

Additional Tags: sentimonster Kagami Tsurugi, Canon Compliant, at least as of late season five, Miraculous Ladybug Season/Series 05, Eventual Romance, Friendship/Love, Autistic Kagami Tsurugi, Tenderness

Summary:

So many details that had faded into the background were now demanding to be noticed. Kagami's skin itched and smoldered constantly now, like a magnifying glass had turned all of the suns rays into a weapon, aimed directly at her. She needed to get away from all of the eyes burning through her before she was nothing but ash.

But she refused to burn out. Refused to fade away or shut herself off from the world. She was going to be okay, she told herself, repeating the mantra until it became fact. She was going to be okay, even if she had to claw and fight for every gram of love.

[whimsy-of-the-stars]

Hello, you wouldn't happen to have a better version of THE CHART would you? In the one you put in the post about people only knowing the most popular things+their best friends audiodrama it's pretty difficult to see the titles, wich is a damned shame, I saw some stuff I found pretty interesting.

Hi! I can’t send it thru tumblr due to the fact that it’s a ginormous image that is TWICE tumblr’s max image size, but here’s a link to the site it’s from, where they have a hi-res image!

happy listening :D

[redhotarsenic]

Uh um

[godspeedviper]

Fangirl - Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader (+18)

𖤐 Summary: Rumor has it that The Joker lurks online and reads what people say about him. If you're lucky, he might just like what he sees.

𖤐 Pairing: TDK Joker x Fem!Reader

𖤐 Word Count: 1,692

𖤐 Warnings: +18. consensual non consent/dub-con. not safe nor sane. sadism. knife kink. blood. kidnapping. PiV. fem pronouns.

⚠️DON'T LIKE DON'T READ. BLOCK DON'T REPORT⚠️

Hybristophilia (noun) -  sexual attraction to people who've committed extraordinary crimes.

  When it finally happened, she was caught entirely unaware. Two of Joker’s goons in plain clothes ambushed her outside her workplace, waiting for the right moment to sneak up behind her and introduce the classic chloroformed rag, before she was able to reach your vehicle. Terror flooded her body, increasing with each breath, as the drug gradually suffocated her into unconsciousness. It all happened so fast that she was hardly able to recall anything before the condemning fade to black. As her awareness began to increase, so did her pain. She lay strewn on the concrete floor of a butcher’s near the docks, hands intricately tied together in a prayer by chains, the length of which carried on skyward into a pulley system, anchoring her in place. Sleepy groans slowly progressed into agonized whimpers and then to desperately terrified wailing which, while muffled by the rag wrapped around her mouth, still echoed throughout the cavernous locale. Her doomed cries were suddenly drowned out by the booming sound of an unmistakably ominous laugh.  

“Looks like my little fangirl is finally awake!” the jester’s voice inched closer, a camcorder in his hand. 

  With his free hand Joker flipped a switch to activate the chain pulley system he had anchored his victim to. Like a marionette, she was gradually pulled up onto her feet, arms above her head. Joker walked up to his victim and shone the camera’s flash into her face, exposing dark streams of mascara that traced rivers of tears down her cheeks. She could feel the smooth leather of his purple gloves against her skin as he gently stroked the side of her face with his free hand. The gesture served as a sadistic mockery.

“Shh shhh shhh. There there, toots.” he cooed. “No need to be afraid! I won’t hurt ya in any way that you wouldn’t enjoy.”

  She shuddered at his words, tilting her gaze beyond the invasive camera flash in an attempt to plead to the madman with a striking vulnerability present in her eyes. The clown merely laughed, and then scampered off to affix the camcorder onto a previously set up tripod a few feet away. She was able to get a proper look at the man from this distance. He was tall, very tall, and dressed exactly as in the CCTV images paraded on the news. Most notable was his imposing purple overcoat, reminiscent of the robes of monarchies past, which earned him the title of the Clown Prince of Crime. She watched anxiously as the Joker fidgeted with the many buttons that comprised his attire, a traditional waistcoat and shirt blouse. 

“I understand if you’re nervous, dollface. That’s to be expected when confronted face to face with the subject of one’s uh… affections .” he snickered. “However,” he spoke each following word in sync with the gradual unfastening of his shirt buttons. “The… feeling… is… mutual.” 

  The Joker let out an evocative moan as the cold air caressed the exposed skin of his torso. His body looked as if it belonged in a museum, white as marble and just as chiseled. She could feel the familiar spark of arousal lighting a fire in her core, causing the jester to smile haughtily as he caught onto the micro shift in her body language. Joker took this as his cue to advance, walking back towards her like a leopard stalking its prey. Each party could swear they heard the other purr, or perhaps that was just the low hum of the air conditioning. 

“Now…” his voice trailed off. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled a large tactical knife from his coat pocket. She looked up at him simultaneously terrified and awestruck as he pressed the blade to her neck. He then leaned in close and whispered, warm breath tickling her ear. 

“I read all of it.” 

Her eyes widened in shock. 

“I’ve read every last one of your explicit little fantasies posted on your silly little blog, and I’ve read all the filthy comments you’ve left on those true crime forums and online news articles. I will say, in my short time in the spotlight I’ve already gotten a handful of fangirls, but none were quite as ahem… imaginative as you.” 

She winced. 

“My favorite work of yours was the one you posted after the hostage video went viral.” he purred. “You said you wanted to be in that bastardized bat’s place. You wanted me to treat you like a piece of meat, to salivate over you like a hungry wolf licking his lips as he watches a tender lamb being slaughtered.” He then pressed his nose to her head, taking in the lingering scent of her favorite shampoo. “I vowed I would find this willing little lamb and make her wildest dreams come true, and as you know, I’m a man of my word. ”

He removed the knife from her throat and began slashing at her garments, quickly exposing her half naked body to the refrigerated chill. 

“Oh how lovely!” he exclaimed at the sight of her dainty beige toned bra. “It even has a little bow!” 

Swish! 

Swish!                                                                                                                                                                                                                           Swish!

The slashed undergarment crumpled to the floor, followed soon after by a mismatched pair of cotton panties. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, would you get a load of that!” a gloved hand grasps onto her exposed hip, pushing her body to turn and face the camera set up. “Aren’t I a lucky little clown to have such a beauty onstage with me tonight, eh? Now, let’s get this show on the road!” 

The Joker slid a gloved hand down the length of her bare torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He pushed a finger past her trimmed bush and directly into her folds, she was dripping wet. She let out a muffled moan at the sudden intrusion, and the clown laughed. 

“So wet for me already, doll?” he said with a chuckle as he licked her earlobe. 

His index finger rubbed her clitoris in lazy circles, coaxing out desperate whimpers. Joker wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her body as close to his as he could while still rubbing her off. Her legs began to tremble and twitch as the pleasure mounted. 

“If I take off the rag, will you promise to be a good girl for me?” whispered Joker, holding her gaze with his piercing green eyes. She nodded in return. 

“Are you sure, doll?” he raised a brow, and she nodded again. 

Joker pulled his fingers out of her folds and let go of his hold on her waist. She whined in protest at the sudden absence. Both hands came up to the sides of her face and he gently pulled the gag out of her mouth, letting the cloth drop down to perch atop her collarbones like a necklace. The clown admired her for a moment, taking in her delicate features, then crashing his mouth onto hers for a hungry kiss. Her heart was practically beating out of her chest, if she was going to die tonight, at least she was going to make the most of it. She returned the kiss with just as much passion, her tongue feeling around his red lips before sinking her teeth into them. He gave out a growl and pulled away laughing maniacally. 

“Ohoho you wanna play, doll?” He immediately retaliated by striking her across the face. “You wanna play? Come on, come on say it. I wanna hear you say it.” He was circling around her like a vulture, his voice steadily sounding less and less human. 

“SAY IT” the booming sound of his voice echoed throughout the warehouse. 

“YES” she yelled out in fear. “...yes, yes I want to, daddy.”

Swish! 

With the flick of his knife, he sliced the underside of her left breast, eliciting a pained cry from her. 

Swish!

He repeated the motion on the underside of her right breast, resulting in the same agonized reaction. 

Swish!

He tucked the blade back into its rightful pocket, but not without nicking the skin of her stomach in the process. Blood cascades down her torso, causing the clown to lick his lips in anticipation. 

“Since you asked for it…” he said, nearly breathless, as he began to free his member from the confines of his slacks. “... come to daddy.”

He put a hand on each of her thighs and lifted her body onto his hips. Her wrists were still bound by chains to the ceiling, so she put them over his head to wrap her arms around his neck. He forced his cock into her, without any hesitation or regard for her own comfort. She let out a long, agonized scream which gradually morphed into a wanton moan as the pain dulled down and the pleasure took over. He held onto her for a short moment before slowly pulling back out, leaving in only the tip, and then ramming himself back into her in one swift push. She yelled again, this time more pleasure than pain, and the two picked up speed. Their thrusts synchronized into a punishing rhythm, her legs holding onto his hips for dear life. Tears filled her eyes and her vision blurred. Her neck and shoulder were now covered in smudged greasepaint as his hungry mouth left behind a trail of love bites. 

The warehouse echoed with a sadistic symphony, chains rattling, slick skin on skin, all accompanied by a chorus of animalistic growls and cries. Her fingers tangled themselves into his green curls, tugging hard as she rode out her orgasm. The last thing she could remember was feeling him spill into her, as her world faded to black. 

She awoke the next day in a hospital bed with a bouquet of roses on the table beside her. A purple envelope was wrapped around the flowers with a rubber band. She reached out to open it, and inside she found a wad of cash with a joker playing card on top. On the card in bright red marker was the following: 

“For the medical bill

XOXO - Daddy.”

If you guys like this enough I'll make it a series where you can anon me messages as if you're a Joker fangirl on those sites and I'll make a fic about it. 

ao3 || guidelines || submit || Ko-Fi

[idi0tproverbs]

    𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧   𝐲𝐨𝐮   𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝   𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡,   𝐰𝐚𝐬   𝐢𝐭   ungrateful   to   want   it   in   a   distinct   way?   when   the   silk   slides   up   her   skin,   strings   tightening   around   her   ribs,   and   the   raspy   breath   jumps   out   of   her   throat.   a   sprig   of   agony   taking   over   until   it   was   all   she   could   feel.   fabric   and   the   cold   air   of   the   ballroom   sliding   up   her   legs.   the   eyes,   their   eyes,   she   feels   that   too.   look   at   me,   look   at   ME,   and   where   there   should   be   fear   she   finds   stupefied   expressions   tapped   with   hunger.   what   she   could   be,   what   she   is.   juliette,   nothing   but   a   killer   and   all   these   people   ADORED   her   for   it.   a   shiny   new   thing   in   their   toybox.   

    it   does   not   feel   good.   this   room   is   suffocating   &   ugly.   jewels   drilled   into   the   walls,   high   ceilings   swept   by   detailed   paintings,   and   it   is   all   so   terribly   revolting.   the   same   way   she’d   felt   when   warner   had   pushed   her   over   the   ledge   to   take   an   innocent   life,   not   once   but   twice.   he   was   revolting,   everyone   in   this   room,   this   room,   all   revolting.   then,   there   is   this   black   feathered   creature   swimming   between   sharks.   a   beautiful   face,   a   soft   face,   with   fierce   eyes.   how   juliette   would   CRAVE   running   her   fingers   over   the   valleys   of   her   face,   what   she   would   give   to   be   able   to.   

    juliette   has   this   irrational   fear   that   bianca   can   hear   everything   inside   her   head.   even   the   ringing   silence   that’ll   plague   her   between   intervals   of   conversation.   she   believes   this   because   bianca   sees   her   from   across   the   room,   heels   clicking,   a   tempo   inching   towards   her   life.   how   badly   she’d   wanted   it   to   be   gone,   her   life,   but   this   nihilism   is   abandoned   in   bianca’s   presence.   “   what   do   i   owe   this   pleasure?   ”   come   closer,   pretty   thing.   she   thinks   about   slipping   off   her   satin   gloves   and   feathering   her   nails   against   her   skin.   her   own   skin   first,   then,   maybe   @infernocte's.   

[fez-pwned]

hee hee hee

[nokmietarchive]

[thinkingabout-girls]