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#omfg there's more!!
hayden-christensen · 8 days
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STAR WARS WEEK 2024 DAY 3: I'LL TRY SPIN-OFFS! - FAVOURITE NON SKYWALKER SAGA MEDIA ▸ OBI-WAN KENOBI (2022) + trivia [insp]
The series features the return of Ewan McGregor and Hayden Christensen to Star Wars after 17 years. Jimmy Smits, Joel Edgerton, Bonnie Piesse, Temuera Morrison, Ian McDiarmid, Anthony Daniels, Liam Neeson and James Earl Jones also reprise their roles from the prequels. It is the most-watched Disney Plus original series premiere globally to date, based on hours streamed in an opening weekend and was nominated for five Emmy Awards, including Outstanding Limited or Anthology Series.
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breakbleheavens · 5 months
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CRUEL SUMMER Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour (2023) dir. Sam Wrench
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earthtooz · 3 months
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in which: a moment of impulsivity has ratio knocking on your door at 3 am with a grand confession.
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There is a great cloud of curiosity that surrounds Dr. Ratio.
His intelligence is far beyond the average person’s comprehension, mind working at insurmountable speeds to reach conclusions and answers that no others have come to before. Mediocrity and Ratio could never stand to be in the same room, intelligence and reputation as an academic preceding him.
When people find out that you have been in a long-term relationship with the scholar, you can almost see the question mark above their heads. How did you meet? When did you start dating? How did you start dating? How do you put up with him? (You always answer that with ‘I’m still trying to find out myself’. He always rolls his eyes when you say that, but it’s nothing a kiss to the cheek can’t solve.) 
Only your closest friends know the story of how you started dating, but it’s always one you love recounting, much to the dismay of Veritas. 
For the decades that he has lived for, there have been few moments he regrets, always critically scrutinising every move six steps before he makes them. No one has ever seen him messy, uncertain, or dishevelled- except you. 
Towards the end of your university years, with an urgent final assignment due soon, you’re rudely awoken one night by frantic knocks on your dorm’s door. You notice the clock reads 3 am, and since the knocks only got louder by the second, you throw your covers off with a groan.
Who could be at your door at 3 am? Perhaps a drunk dormmate who forgot their keys? Or someone knocking thinking it was their room?
Looking through the peephole, you’re stunned to see a certain violet-haired friend on the other side, trouble etched deeply into his features. His hair was messy, falling haphazardly around his face, and his usual accessory of a laurel wreath was discarded, flamboyant outfit discarded for something more comfortable. 
It’s clear that he’s troubled by something, but you have half a mind to leave him outside until he goes away (that’s what he’d do to you, or so you think).
Opening the door, you begin by scolding him. “You better have a good reason to show up at this godforsaken time or otherwise-”
“-I’m in love with you.” 
Perhaps if it were a normal hour of the day, and if you hadn’t just been rudely awaken from your sleep, you would have processed his words faster. Instead, you blink at him once, twice, three times, fatigue weighing heavily on your features as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 
“What?” You murmur, shaking your head as if that would clear up the mental blockage.
“I’m in love with you,” he repeats, firmer this time. 
You grab his wrist and drag him inside your dorm, blinded by the harshness of the hallway lights illuminating the outline of his figure. Turning on the softer light on your desk, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, gazing down at your hands. Veritas, however, stays near your door, annoyingly muscular arms flexed over his chest.
“I have so many questions,” you grumble, rubbing your eyes. “Why are you awake? You’re always asleep by 11 to get your ass up at 6 to exercise, or whatever.” 
“Are you avoiding the main point, or just stupid?” He grabs you by the shoulders and shakes. “I love you.” 
“Excuse me! You were banging bullets on my dorm room, I’m disorientated right now, not stupid- what?”
It’s almost like his statement from earlier only pierces through your brain now with the way you freeze, eyes morphing into something akin to disbelief and shock. He sees all the changes in your expression in the dimness of the room, nervously biting his cheek with every subtle shift.
“Did… I hear that right?” You whisper after what feels like an eternity. “You love me?”
He nods. “For a few years now.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Am I not doing so in this very moment?” 
Tonight has been nothing but agitating for him. First, he was kept awake by the pounding of his heart and the burning desire to see you, significantly delaying his sleep until Veritas decided to cast all caution into the wind, running to your dorm all the way on the other side of the University. Now, he is trying to pour his heart onto your hands, all because of a moment of impulsivity and bull-headed stubbornness, and a secret he cannot keep to himself any longer.
He may be stubborn (as are all geniuses), but Veritas is never impulsive. All truths will come to light eventually, no matter how hard he tries to hide them. 
“While I accept that my feelings may not be reciprocated, can you at least say something rather than stare at me blankly?” There’s an unfamiliar look of concern in his eyes, contrasting the usual pride and arrogance he always wears.
What happened to the Veritas Ratio you know? Who is this man by your feet?
“No- that’s not. I… I love you too, I have for a while now, but everything about this is… just… unbelievable.”
“Why?” 
“You’re aeons out of my league, Veritas. I never once considered you would return my feelings.”
He stifles back a laugh, dropping his large hands off your shoulders and clutching the mattress on either side of you. You won’t forget about the way the sheets crumple beneath his grip, or the way his head hangs, bangs tickling your legs.
Bravely, you raise a hand to his hair, running through it. Seemed like he could use the comfort.
“You make me too damn nervous,” he breathes, a hand coming to clutch at his chest. 
“Never thought I’d live to see the day you admit you get nervous.” 
“Why’s that?”
“The only thing bigger than your brain is your ego.”
His confession, and everything about that night, was unorthodox, never predicting that you’d end the day curled up next to Veritas, or the long relationship that would follow.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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foundationaldecay · 1 year
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i hate concert ticket prices why can’t i just get a free ticket for liking a band so much
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kiull90 · 3 months
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He just want to show you his duckling
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Im simping for this smoll pookie ehen he on screen 😭🫶
Black eye vers :
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it’s so interesting how gloreth is seen not only as some great noble hero, a warrior who bravely slayed the monster, but also as an adult. a grown-up knight who knew what she was going. when in reality she was just a little kid. a kid who didn’t know what she was doing, not really. a kid with a wooden sword. a kid under her parents’ influence. a kid who only started seeing nimona as a monster because that’s what she was told. and yet she ended up depicted as an adult in the statue, in the storybooks, in the scroll used to justify trying to kill nimona again.
at the beginning of the movie when she’s being introduced via storybook, she says “go back to the shadows from whence you came” in a courageous, commanding voice, even though that’s not quite what happened! in reality her voice was scared, and a little bit uncertain. the narrative was always twisted in her favor because she was seen as the hero.
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infernal-lamb · 7 months
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more doodles, since I've been so busy! Sketched out Shamura finally....along with exploring the idea that Shamura's prophecies also appeared in abstract webs they've weaved along the years....I think its just Neat(tm)
also: when ur vessel keeps dying just to stare at you with unyielding saucer-like eyes filled with an indescribable bloodlust silently. just fucked up lamb things
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edens-pen · 2 years
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romans 3:23
summary | nanami kento can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.
pairing | priest!nanami kento x fem!reader
word count | 3,206
warnings | oh god — blasphemy, sacrilege, sex in a church, oral (f!receiving), pussyjob, masturbation, corruption kink, virgin kink, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, god kink, worship kink, praise, degradation, creampie, slight breeding kink, just the tip, squirting, dub con (ish), minorly ooc kento :(
a/n | this was not beta'd + i have church in the morning. dabbling in some kinktober!! something light for y'all to enjoy <3
[ 18 + | minors, blank, ageless blogs, do not interact! ]
nanami kento was a man of the cloth.
of course, the operative word being "was."
he was a man of the cloth until you waltzed into the church with your family. a fresh college graduate, staying with her parents to save money, teaching at the local elementary school.
the first sunday you came in a modest dress, your soft eyes taking in the composure of the church before they landed on him. a demure smile settled on your face and you ducked your head after meeting his eyes.
he was hooked.
it's not like he could help it. your eyes stayed trained on him throughout every service and he loved your attention. he thrived under your watchful gaze, the way you hung off of every word he spoke.
and you weren't a mystery, nanami could read you like a book. he saw the way your thighs clenched in the pew when his voice raised.
it only took a few weeks for you to show up in his office.
the perfect combination of innocent and repentant. the conversation starts sweet, a recollection of your time in college and your abandonment of church.
"i didn't go to church when i went away, i was busy and distracted," you sigh, fiddling with your fingers. "i have maintained my purity in college, but recently, i've been...tempted."
nanami can't explain the relief that floods him when he hears that you're a virgin, and the excitement that hits him when you start to open up.
"i've been having impure thoughts and they've been getting worse every week, i try to ignore them, but last night, i couldn't." your voice is a shaky whine, afraid of the consequences. "i touched myself."
your confession has nanami's eyes nearly rolling back. he bites the inside of his cheek thinking about you with your hands between your legs, rocking against your fingers. he thinks about how slick your thighs would be, how easily you would give in and come for him. he knows you're pent up, you've spent your life in restriction.
it's that moment of silence that has you filling the gap again.
"it was only that one time father, and i've never done it before then, and i haven't done it since!"
nanami refrains from smiling, only nodding at your words. he leans forward, clasping his hands on the desk.
"i'd like you to come to me the next time you're experiencing your impure thoughts, i believe i can help."
you graciously accept and nanami only bids you a good evening.
he doesn't expect to see you again so soon, or for you to be sitting in his office on a friday night, the edge of your skirt between your fingers, tears in your eyes.
"i'm so sorry father nanami, i tried not to think about it!" you're crying now and nanami is so thankful he's behind his desk because the sight of your tears is getting him so hard.
he gives you a little smile before he asks, "what did you think about?"
this is when you freeze, body tight and in panic. you stutter out a few words, but nanami cuts you off. "it's okay, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god, confess and i can help you."
with his reassurance, you open your mouth and confess.
"i have these thoughts all the time," you bow your head and swallow harshly as you continue. "it's wrong but i think about him having sex with him."
"it's best to talk about our sins," nanami takes a slow breath before rising from his chair. "to relieve ourselves from concealment. who is this person you're having these thoughts about?"
at his words, your eyes meet his again. "i can't—"
"do you believe that you can hide from god? they are not hidden from my face, nor is their sin concealed from my eyes."
his tone is stern and it makes you nervous to see the hard line of his frown.
"it's you."
nanami clenches his teeth at your pitiful, little whisper. the shame sits hot in your face and he can't help but drink it in.
he can't bring himself to pull back because he was fucked from the moment you walked into the church. your little white dress was the noose around his priesthood.
the only thing he can do now is drag you down with him.
that night, nanami consoles your fears and worries, he tells you the real work will start after sunday morning service. he promises you that there is nothing to worry about, there is no sin that can't be washed clean by god's love.
so sunday evening, you tell your parents you're doing intensive study with nanami and they are overjoyed to hear it.
in fact, they encourage you to stay as long as you can.
so nanami takes his time with you. he walks you through scriptures and teachings and prayers and at the end he even gives you a technique to keep you from truly sinning.
"what people don't know is that masturbation is a sin," nanami explains, taking your hands in his. "only if you climax."
your eyebrows furrow and nanami continues, "it's not a sin if you don't finish."
he demonstrates by having you sit on top of his desk, skirt hiked up around your waist, panties hanging off your ankle.
nanami's kneeling in front of you, eyes shut. he's just breathing you in and he wasn't surprised to see that your thighs are glistening. you've just spent the last hour skirting his touches and listening to the rumble of his voice.
he pets lightly at your folds, as you lean back, propped up on your elbows. spreading you open, nanami groans to himself at your slick hole, begging for him to touch you. his fingers trace lightly over your cunt before tapping at your clit.
of course you're sensitive. his light touches have you trembling and shaking, already crying out his name.
"is this what you thought of when you touched yourself," nanami speaks, his breath right over your mound. his eyes flicker up to meet yours, hooded and desperate. "me between your legs, playing with this filthy mess?"
you nod pathetically and nanami continues. there's no rhyme or reason to the way he's touching you. he's greedily spreading your mess around your thighs and flicking at your clit while you cry above him.
"please, please nanami, it feels so good."
he responds by sealing his mouth over you, teasing his tongue against your clit.
his finger starts slipping inside your cunt, stretching you out. nanami relishes in how tight you are, knowing that your little fingers weren't enough to open you up for him. with little effort, nanami's grazing spots inside of you that you didn't even know existed.
your mess is sliding down his wrist, but he doesn't stop. he keeps going until you're whining his name again, desperate and pleading.
"oh god, please, i can't!" your fingers find purchase in his hair, keeping his mouth over your pussy. "let me cum! just this once, please, i'll be good. i need you."
tears are welling up in your eyes, but nanami knows this isn't what you need right now. he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers as your voice goes up in shrill cries.
"you want to cum?"
"yes, so bad! please let me cum!"
it only worsens when he pulls away, leaving you empty.
the tendrils of your upcoming orgasm slip away and your tears fall even faster.
your watery eyes find nanami who's sitting back, smiling teasingly at you.
"see? you did so good."
you don't believe him, not until nanami has kneeling in front of him as performs similar acts on himself.
his cock is hard and weeping against his fist. he insisted on using the slick from your denied orgasm to smooth the movements of his hand. the wet sounds of his pleasure fill the office.
"you make me feel so good, you're so damn pretty," nanami grunts. you're inches away from his dick, and he can feel the puffs of your breath against the tip. your eyes are trailing the motions of his hand, the flex of his stomach, and the tension in his thighs.
his languid pace speeds up to something rough and fast, it's taking everything in nanami not to come on your face, not to spew every disgusting thought in his mind.
all in due time.
so he settles for making you think he's just like you. when he feels the knot of pleasure about to unwind, he grabs the base of dick and squeezing until your name sounds like a curse on his lips.
"god, baby, see?" he's out breath, but it's okay when he sees the light smile on your lips. "it's okay if you don't come."
nanami honestly doesn't know when he got so fucked. he thought he had control of this. he believed he had control of his actions, but you've taken root in his brain, and he had to know that edging you and himself wasn't going to be enough.
it only takes a few more sessions for nanami to convince you to do more. that it's okay, as long as you come with nanami in the room to oversee it. and it's okay as long as you come on his fingers, or in his mouth.
now, nanami has you grinding on his lap, using your cute little cunt to give him a pussyjob. your panties are stuffed in his pocket and his pants are around his ankles. his dick is harder than its ever been in his life, the tip is leaking between your pussy lips, throbbing and red.
"don't worry," nanami groans into your neck. "it's fine as long as i'm not inside you."
nanami feels like he might even believe it himself, because he knows it must be heaven inside your pussy. and to deprive himself of it right now must make him a saint.
the way you're whining in his ear and clutching his shoulder has nanami strongly considering otherwise.
"this feels so good, you're so big nanami!"
and while he doesn't need his ego stroked, he knows your words are genuine. he can tell from the way you're crying it out in disbelief. he needs to hear the way you'll sound when he's sinking his cock inside you, fucking against that sweet spot he touches his fingers.
"'nami, 's good, oh my—" you cut yourself off with a broken moan, and nanami can tell you're getting close with the way your slick pours out, covering his cock.
he's learned that you cum the hardest when he's pinching your nipples and talking you through it. so with one hand nanami guides your hips, keeping you moving in his lap, and with the other he's playing with your chest.
all the while nanami's speaking praises into your ear.
"you're such a pretty little angel, you listen so well," nanami kisses your neck, careful not to leave a mark above your collar. "always so perfect for me."
and his words have you soaring, crying out his name as you clutch his shirt.
but this is still not enough.
your pretty eyes filled with tears and the sound of his name on your lips isn't enough anymore.
it should be alarming that it's taken nanami such a short period of time to be so infatuated with you, but he can't bring himself to care.
not when you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky,
like he gave the sun it's light,
like he's god.
it's love and it's power and nanami cannot let this go. your body is singing the devil's song and he's echoing the words.
so in the same breath, he's teasing the tip of his cock at your entrance, whispering reassurance as he does.
"promise it'll be just the tip, angel, just need to feel you like this."
he doesn't try to assuage you with promises of heaven and a sinless life. he knows that won't work. nanami thinks you might love him more than you love your religion.
he hopes he's right.
so you're giving in, making him promise "just the tip." and nanami nods half-heartedly, already pussydrunk imagining the way you're going to swallow him up.
"too big, 'nami, 's too big!"
but it's just the tip and it's got his eyes fluttering at the feeling of your sucking him.
he lets you settle around him before he tilts your head up to look at him again. placing kisses under your jaw, he tries to distract himself from the inviting warmth of your heat, but the feeling of his lips on your neck has you squirming in his lap.
"i can—oh god—i can take more, right? you'll give me more?" you whine in his ear, desperate and pleading, like it's nanami's fault he's not touching your cervix right now.
in truth nanami was trying to control the situation, swearing to himself that he wouldn't ruin you in one night.
but he's a weak man with simple desires and being inside you is a pleasure he can no longer deny himself.
so nanami takes your hips in his hands and keeps you right on his tip. then he takes his time sinking you down, ignoring your cries and whines of it being too much. he knows you can take it.
it takes him too long to get your hips all the way down, his balls pressed against your ass. by the time he's seated completely inside you, sweat has collected in the valley between your breasts and nanami has left marks along your neck.
"doin' so good for me, so wet and tight," nanami grunts in your ear. his praise sinks right in your stomach and he knows it.
nanami tries to take it slow because this is your first time, he barely even got to prep you, but once he starts thrusting, the sound of your voice knocks him out entirely.
"oh—oh my god!" your nails are raking down his back as you cry out, "kento!"
the sound of his first falling off your lips has nanami's rhythm stuttering. he doesn't know why it floors him, but he knows he's not going as slow as he was when he first started.
in the back of his mind, he know he should not be drilling you like this. nanami should have you laid out on his bed, softly easing his way into your cunt, probably with a condom on, after having wrung multiple orgasms from your body. he should continue praising you, reminding how good you're doing for him.
instead he's got you bouncing totally naked in his lap, his pants down around his ankles, with his hand clutching the base of your throat. tears are falling down your cheeks and nanami can't stop himself from licking them up with fervor. and all he can think of is how filthy you are for letting him fuck you in a church, and that's all that comes out of his mouth.
"so fucking slutty for me, baby," nanami groans, thrusting up harder. "letting me in this cunt so easily? have you been saving it for me?"
"yeah, all for you, just for you," you swear. "god, it's only yours!"
nanami nods, kissing your lips sloppily, "just for me? your tight, wet pussy was waiting for my fucking cock?"
"kento—"
"this body's supposed to be the temple of god, you know that? i've taken an oath, bound myself to God, spent hours of my life in prayer and solitude," nanami rambles, flicking your nipples as he speaks. "then you walk in with this sweet, virgin cunt and i've never wanted anything more."
with every thrust, nanami's rolling against your spot, fucking you into the shape of his cock. and he's in your ear telling you that he owns you now, that every inch of your body belongs to him, entirely. so you keep agreeing with him, nodding and promising that nobody else will touch you like this.
he's got his hands all over your body, playing with your chest, groping your ass, and then gripping your throat tightly.
in the silence that comes from you being choked, nanami chuckles a little.
"hear that?"
and you know what he's talking about immediately. the sounds of him fucking you, the squelching sounds of your arousal loud and echoing in his office.
"it's how bad your little pussy wanted me. how bad she wanted to fuck her priest. came to my church to fuck things up, hm?" nanami slows down, grinding you on his lap while he taunts you. "wore that white dress and wanted me to lose my religion. knew i couldn't resist this hot fucking body sitting in my pew."
you're trying to disagree but with nanami's cock pressed against cervix, but you can't even uncross your eyes.
"fucking answer me."
nodding, you mindlessly agree, "yes, you're right! kento—my god—i'm so close, please don't stop."
and the way you keep mixing his name with cries for God is making nanami's head spin. he's starting to think you're doing it on purpose.
"yeah? beg me some more," nanami smiles, nipping at your neck again. "i like hearing you."
you bite back the petulant whine rising up in your throat and choose to be obedient. "kento, please let me cum—want it so bad, please!"
this time nanami obliges you, twisting your nipples between his fingers, urging you to cum for him.
"be my nasty fucking girl and cum on my cock, sinful little slut."
your nails dig harshly into his shoulder as you toss your head back in heavenly ecstasy.
"oh my—fuck!"
the curse falling from your lips is followed by the collection of tension in your body. your cunt tightens around nanami's cock as you freeze on nanami's lap. he keeps fucking you through it, his cock pounding into your cunt while you gush and squirt around him.
"can you cum inside me, kento? please?" you're begging again, even more for his cum than for your own orgasm. "i want it so bad, want you to fill me up, okay? you'll do it right, kento? you'll give me your cum?"
and what choice does nanami have? he has to empty his balls inside you.
"gonna dump my fucking cum in your cunt," nanami growls.
that's all the warning you get before he's fulfilling his promise, giving you everything he's got. his groans and curses fill your ears while his hips stutter, painting your insides white.
nanami sighs in contentment, rubbing his hands up and down your back as his cock softens inside you. he feels you relax in his lap, tiredness overtaking your limbs.
the evidence of your sin leaks down to nanami's balls.
you lean your forehead against his, stars still in your eyes. even after the depraved acts nanami's performed on you in the last couple of weeks, you still think he's created heaven and earth.
"thank you so much kento, you're so good to me," you whisper and it sounds like a prayer.
in nanami's ears, it sounds like worship.
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softd0m-charlie · 2 months
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i love being a dom top all the time and everything but i can't help but wonder about having sex a little differently sometimes. like riding someone's dick/strap and holding them down underneath me, praising them for being so good and letting me use them to feel full.
maybe having them on a leash while they're inside me and giving them orders to fuck me faster, slower, harder, more gently, whatever i want them to do to me.
"that's it baby, fuck. there you go, keep going just like that, puppy. you're doing so fucking good for me, keep fucking me just like that. ohh my god, that's it. that's it, that's it. right there."
not letting them cum until i do, and once i do, making them cum however they want me to and praising them for being so, so good for me and making me cum exactly the way i asked of them.
or maybe the other way around, too. like more of a service top thing. because i love fucking someone selfishly, but i also wanna do it with the sole intention of making them feel as good as possible. being instructed on exactly what gives them the most pleasure and doing it until they're a squirming mess underneath me, praising me over and over for doing so well and being such a good boy.
"like this, huh? okay... does that feel better, baby? yeah? oh, there we go. I'm so glad i can make you feel good like this. am i doing it right? am i being good for you?"
i wouldn't even care about cumming afterwards, I'd just be satisfied knowing that i did a good job and feeling proud of myself.
you know, just some thoughts I've been having lately.
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umbrvx · 2 months
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[ @orvwomenweek ] lsk + family, regrets || day 5
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bold-embrace · 11 months
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Hobieee ♥️♥️
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thequeerlibrarian · 6 months
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Wild Space by Karen Miller
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riacte · 7 months
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Decked Out multiplayer is literally the most insane shit like when Tango sacrificed himself for Xisuma I SCREAMED what in the tragic master/lackey self-sacrificial storyline 😭 it's also sooo interesting because more players equal more clank but players can also sacrifice themselves for each other and suddenly it's an angst fic when the Dungeon Master's goal isn't to survive the dungeon but to help the victims of the dungeon 😭
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crushedsweets · 10 months
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eyeless jack eating spaghetti with his long-ass tongue
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I got so many good asks today y’all .
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triona-tribblescore · 6 months
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This song is on my Peepaw playlist purely for the fact that every time I hear it all I can think of is Future Leo reflecting on his past self. There would deffo be some anger and frustration there to want to tell him to "get his act together" and to just listen or something uvu
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nomazee · 7 months
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"Ranpo. I'm falling asleep, man."
Your complaints are met with Ranpo's own disgruntled mumbles pressed into the damp skin of your neck. "Don't call me man. I'm trying to kiss you and that's what I get?"
"Trying to kiss me while I'm trying to sleep. Can you wait for the morning?"
Apparently, he can't, because he stays in his position on top of you. Every line of his body is pressed into yours as his arms stay wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you in and keeping you locked. You don't hate this, truthfully, but you are falling asleep. The only thing keeping you awake is your annoying partner who you love but also want to kick out of the bed for the night.
Ranpo trails innocent open-mouthed kisses along the soft part beneath your jawline before moving up to the corner of your mouth. He sighs a content little hum into your skin and you have to fight back a shiver. He's awfully good at this. You know he's not trying to do any more than kissing—he never does when you're both bone tired and swaddled in bed—but his incessant gestures are inching you more and more to full consciousness and you really need to get a full seven hours of sleep tonight.
"I need it," he tells you, earnest in the way he always is when the exhaustion starts to make his clever brain fuzzy. He's always a little more mushy with you past eleven PM, words and thoughts and actions slurring into one barely cohesive jumble. "Just a little. Won’t you do it for me? 'Cause you love me 'nd all."
He needs it. Good god. He’s gonna kill you with that one day.
Whatever smart response bubbling on your tongue immediately fizzes out when he covers your lips with his own. Hot and slow breaths puff between the both of you as he moves his mouth against yours in slow, pliant motions. You're far too weak for him and far too awake now, so you let him take you apart just for a moment, just to take the edge off his spontaneous neediness.
"Yeah, sure. Love you and whatever," you manage to squeeze out between his perpetual line of kisses, now spanning across your lips and to your cheek and the spot right beneath your eye, close enough to let you feel the way his soft breaths flutter against your eyelashes.
"One more," he tells you—but it's more like he's telling himself. Like a goal, a promise, a self-fulfilled prophecy. "Just one. M'kay? Then you can fall asleep all early like you're a senior citizen."
"This senior citizen is letting you kiss them, baby. Don't complain."
And, oh, isn't it such a delight, hearing the way his breaths turn shaky for just a second after the nickname leaves your mouth. Every time you call him baby he goes shaky and bashful, too embarrassed to say anything smart. It’s his weak point and you’re too addicted to be good about it.
“If you wake me up early,” you tell him, finally able to pry his face away from yours with the help of a firm hand cupping his cheek, “I’ll make you breakfast. And you can kiss me again. I’ll even walk to the store and get that good jam that you like.”
“You’re a good bargainer.”
“Comes with the job. Will you let me go to bed now?”
He makes a contemplative noise, a hum that buzzes through your fingertips from where you hold his face. “I said one more, right?”
Indeed he did. With a sigh, you let him press a big stupid kiss on your lips, complete with an obnoxiously loud mwah! sound effect from him that you roll your eyes at. What a man-child.
(You still walk to the store for him in the morning. You’re weak at heart, really.)
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