#scarce to be counted

[crabs-but-better]

feelin funky might type all the lyrics to stars without looking them up just to feel something

[maengekyou]

you know rocks fall; scene end by RK7200? no? go read it and thank me later :)

Kakashi is back in the past, he is supposed to be dead. Instead, he has been given Uchiha Obito's script. or: There’s an Akatsuki member called Sukea who is mystifyingly familiar to Team Minato.

[littlefallenrebel]

desperately need more tall reader content in cod fics... let me match my silly military men in height and be a menace 🥹

[ochzarunoki]

Holy shit Austria at HWS 506

[wonder-worker]

“Studies of Elizabeth Woodville […] have been hampered by the continuing fascination with her brother-in-law, Richard III. The Ricardian [and Yorkist] apologetic is now largely dependent upon the argument that the Woodville family posed such a threat to Richard of Gloucester, and the kingdom as a whole, that Gloucester had little option but to take the throne from his Woodville-dominated nephew. Although this argument has [irregularly] been contested, a reassessment of the queen's role in 1483 has not yet been attempted. Michael Bennett, in his 1987 account [...] still dismissed her as `an inveterate intriguer, capable in her vanity and fecklessness of some remarkable shifts and turns'. But more often she is scarcely mentioned in general histories of the period.”

-J.L. Laynesmith, “English Queenship 1445-1503” (thesis for the degree of DPhil in Medieval Studies, University of York, Centre for Medieval Studies, April 1999)

[themoonofblueside]

i wish stannis was not such an annoying stubborn asshole at the start of adwd, he really could have actually helped with the food and fighting and reserve management for the night's watch and him and jon could plan for the best outcome for both sides. if i was jon and i had a mister siege-management right beside me who not only knew how to work through scarce food but also had enough men around him to command and group soldiers to find or hunt for food but all this dude did was grind teeth, insult me, and burn people i'd kill him in the first week

[jazzyjuno]

sometimes ill look at the stars and be like "man. javert was onto something probably"

[essektheylyss]

I will say, there's definitely a possibility that Essek is technically contracted to the Cobalt Soul, but probably not as an archivist. But on the slim chance that he is, I will, on account of the state of real-world archives jobs, be reaching into the narrative to throttle him with my bare hands.

[quietlyblooms]

we’re feeling off, folks, so it’s gonna be another quiet night from me. i’m not built to socialize this much in such a short span of time 😔

[sunb0ts]

feeling normal about truce and pollo again!!!!

[crowehorte]

Hot Heathen Tip!

If you're struggling with something, pray to Odin for his assistance in conquering yourself. Not all battles are physical, and sometimes you just need someone at your back to conquer your doubt, your fear, your exhaustion, what have you.

This tip brought to you by; me asking Odin for help with my morning run and not only did I get through it, but I fuckin' killed it.

Then a crow cawed at me.

[steelycunt]

Jordan and Declan waited til marriage sorry (sex doesn't count if Declan is on top)

then what were all those books even about.

[sleepinghollows]

// mad revamp !! was previously @/shiningstarryeyes & i’m now @/sleepinghollows <3.

[nen-the-pigeon]

Did you know all my Ko-Fi subscribers can vote for the monthly sketches theme regardless of tier they are in? Check out those options I have for November!

Join us today to help choose the theme and maybe get a sketch too (Pigeon Knights and Squires only for those) ⬇️⬇️⬇️

[enby-cuntboy]

thinking about an escape room but the twist is that if you don't get out in time, you're used by the entire staff until they're satisfied.

you know what you're getting into, of course. you sign the forms saying that the facility can't be held liable for any damages that happen to you. afterwards, you're stripped down and restrained. cuffs around your wrists behind your back as you're bent over a table, chains holding your ankles together. a collar is attached to your neck, connected in two places. one, to hold you still on the table. and the other connected to the ceiling with a lot of slack. you seem to be in a dungeon, iron bars blocking the unlocked exit.

you're left alone and the timer is placed immediately in front of you, counting down, minute by minute. right where you can see it. the restraints are firm and secure, but they each have their give, their weaknesses. the chains on your feet can be undone by looping it around the corner of the table and pulling at it at just the right angle. then you have to move your cuffed wrists behind your back and under your legs so you can use them.

the part of the collar connecting you to the table is dealt with by simply unhooking it, meaning you're able to stand up and move around the room. there's a box with a pile of keys for you to sort through. one of them must open the cuffs. one of them must unlock the bars. you sort through them in a hurry, adrenaline making your cuffed hands shake as you try each and every one of them, adding them gradually to the discard pile. once your hands are free, you fiddle with your collar. it doesn't seem to have any give. but while doing this, you see that on the other side of the iron bars is a bolt cutter, exactly what you need.

you're invigorated, trying all the keys on the bars as the minutes count down. your time is scarce, it's moving far more quickly than you're able to take into account. until finally, the lock clicks. the metal gate swings open and you can see the bolt cutter on the floor right in front of you.

except when you walk forward, the collar around your neck tugs you back. the tool is just out of reach. you can't get enough slack to pick it up. you try desperately, every option you can think of, to stretch your body out and try and kick the bolt cutter closer to you, desperately now as you see you only have three minutes remaining, then two, then one and a half.

until you finally remember the chains on your feet. you hurry back to the table, reaching under it to grab the chains and looking at the time left on the timer. 50 seconds. you hurry back to the iron bars, throwing the chains, trying to lasso the bolt cutter to finally get it in your grasp. and with 20 seconds remaining, the tool hooks onto the end of the shackles on the chains, and you desperately try reeling it in. 15 seconds, and you're pulling it closer, so very carefully. until finally, you reach down and wrap your hands around the tool and that's when your heart sinks.

it wasn't a bolt cutter. it was a toy. lightweight and useless, like something that would go in a child's tool set. and you realise: you were never meant to escape this. you never even had a chance. you had willingly walked into a trap.

your time is up and an alarm sounds, the lighting in the room turning red. the staff walk through the door, heading straight for you, cocks and straps and toys in hand, grins of delight on their faces.

they push you back onto the table and use you exactly how they want to, each and every one of them noticing how soaked you've gotten just from being in the escape room and playing this game, mocking you for what a slut you are as they take you without any preamble.

they use all your holes simultaneously, manhandling you into whatever positions they want. bending you over, taking you from behind. seeing how much can fit into you at once. slapping you about, spitting on you, spanking and whipping, passing you from one to another. never a moment for you to rest or recover before you're impaled on another cock.

all while their mocking voices taunt you.

this is what you were asking for when you came here. this is exactly what you were hoping for. to be used relentlessly. you never wanted to escape anyway, no matter what you'd say. you needed to be used like this. only sluts ever enter these escape rooms, and so you would be treated as what you were. willing holes for them.

once they've all had their turn, they take the toy bolt cutter and shove it into your used hole, fucking you with it slowly. it's too big and uncomfortable, but you stretch around it so easily after all that use. your arousal making it easy. you keep crying out, and they keep laughing. this was the thing you thought would set you free. this was your salvation for twenty minutes or so, all you cared to get. and now they were filling you with it. and worse than that, they were making sure you enjoyed it.

they bring you to an intense orgasm with the very thing you thought would save you. your mind is foggy and you can't think of much aside from the feeling of the toy inside you. you're burning with embarassment.

you came so close to escaping. you were so resourceful and clever about it all. but now you were nothing but holes for them to use until they decided they were done. all that intelligence you used to try and get out would leak out with your arousal as they continued to whore you out. your brain would never work the same once they were done with you. once they had reduced you to something so pathetic.

they aren't done using you. they won't be for a while. and you don't know if you ever want to be done serving them. this is where thinking got you, and now you were being put in your place.

[theoreality]

I am doomed for however long I'll live in my hometown because I can never commission artists to draw my OCs (cries) (dollar is expensive here)