#and it just looked like balls overall

[whyrubuyingclothesatthesoupstore]

I thought it would be funny if there was an option for shin to pick up the gun instead of keiji during this fight, my friends agreed so I decided to make a quick edit and then the quick edit took me literally two hours. moral of the story there should be more high-quality playthroughs of 3-1a logic

[misty-wisp]

What's wrong, Omori? You look as if you just saw a ghost!

(alt. ver under the cut)

[whos-hotter-jjba]

Hottest JJBA Outfit Bracket - Round 1 Match 3

[gasstationclown]

hm.

[raetreaderarts]

I. I have no excuse for this.

Can’t imagine she would wanna be in the sun for too long on a beach day tho, she would prolly just sit under an umbrella, read a book, and make sure Peppermint doesn’t get taken by the waves.

[paintingformike]

watching byler and mleven scenes back to back actually puts things more in perspective and it’s making me laugh because...most byler scenes have always been treated way more seriously and with more emotional depth than mleven scenes. theres just so much more tension and intimacy evident between them and it gets 10x doubled in their heart to hearts in season 4 while mleven remains either being played for laughs or having pretty surface level conversations until they actually have a realer fight? like...byler really isnt that much of a secret at all, its being developed right in front of our eyes 😭

no cause imagine mike and el talking to each other with the same level of tension in the desert heart to heart or even just having a single conversation that is as deep and serious as that, or even mike opening up to el the way he does with will...you can’t, can you? because mleven scenes are never handled or treated with as much care as byler scenes 😴

[heybaetae]

.

[mycological-mariner]

I just finished The Mauritius Command. I need a second.

[coldvampire]

unrelated note but I may or may not be expecting a new doll tomorrow lmfao

[xwhitenoise]

So I’ve started on Neverafter, right, and despite being sort of a baby when it comes to more grotesque horror elements I’m enjoying it so far

but some of the content warnings are for things that are... honestly really trivial and would not have warranted timestamped warnings in any other season, and I feel like they make the idea of content warnings themselves seem kind of frivolous and silly overall. Which is. The opposite of what they should be doing.

[kyatra]

TWO PART DLC SHOOT YOURSELF NINTENDO

[artemismatchalatte]

I cut my hair so I have flippy bangs again! Woooo!

I blame the girls from Lip Service. They all had really good hair.

[laikahh]

okay switched to my laptop i can try to write down some thoughts now

[fagdykebassboy]

it has been .a month.

[fushiguho]

For eons, I’ve been thinking about sweet, well-mannered, farmhand!Gojo ☀️ who fucks the literal breath out of you and you guys WILL hear me out, okay?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

As your father’s one and only employee, Satoru is held to incredibly high standards, which essentially boil down to two, very simple rules; never show up to the farm late and never, he means never pursue his daughter romantically. Seems easy enough, right?

Or so Satoru thought.

“Miss,” a thick, meridional voice utters from far behind, “miss, pardon my frankness, but I believe you just might be the prettiest woman I have ever seen.” Satoru admits candidly, briskly jogging to match your fast-paced gait as you trudge up the hill, toward the farmhouse over yonder.

“Oh, don’t be silly now,” you dismiss, waving a banishing hand, suppressing the ever-growing giddiness that threatens to invalidate your dismissal, “my father wouldn’t like that one bit, you know that. He’ll kill you ten times over, Satoru.” Surely he’s kidding, right? Surely he would never disobey your father’s wishes… right?

Now trudging beside you, Satoru nods slowly, adjusting the rusted buckles of his muddy, denim overalls. A dispirited sigh drags from his pretty, pink lips. Of course he knows. Shoulder to shoulder, the two of you plod toward the house, his lingering gaze as subtle as a sledgehammer, but when is it not?

“I’ve been made well aware,” he finally mutters under his breath as if coming to the unfortunate realization all over again, “but you don’t make it particularly easy for me, miss… you must know that.” His voice is a deep, southern drawl—beautifully elongated vowels like silken honey, the perfect melody for battered souls.

“How do you mean?” Your hand is coming up to your face, shielding your eyes from the sun so that you can peer up at the ivory-haired man beside you. “And you don’t have to call me that y’know.”

“What? Miss?” His incredulous tone forces a giggle past your lips. “Just a token of respect is all, blame my momma,” he smiles, cheeks glowing a beautiful crimson from the parching heat, “and it’s fitting… a pretty name for a pretty lady, hm?” He’s nudging you in the shoulder teasingly.

See? Satoru is sweet. So why on this godforsaken planet does he have you painfully spread apart on your family’s dining room table? Why are his large hands pinning your thighs to the stained wood so that he can watch as your desperate, drooling pussy swallows his cock whole? Why is he leaning down to whisper debauched words of praise directly into your ear?

“Look at this wet, little pussy, goddd… you take me sooo fuckin’ well—fuuuuuck, miss,” he’s deliriously tossing his head back to dangle between his shoulder blades, subconsciously yanking you closer to the edge of the rustic table, desperate to feel more of you, “like it was made for me, heh. Was this pretty pussy made for me, miss? Is this my pussy?”

It’s like switch has been flipped, like he’s possessed beyond saving and is now only a shell of his former self. Has he always been this way? Has he always had this filthy of a mouth? You’re not sure, not really. The only thing you’re sure of is the repetitive, obscene strike of his swollen balls against the fat of your ass. It’s the only thing you can hear, feel, think.

“C’monnn now… asked you a question, miss,” he’s leaning closer, mockingly cupping a hand over his ear to observe the way he fucks the breath out of you, “talk to meee, pretty, I wanna hear you. This pussy too loud, huh? Is she too wet for you to hear me?”

“It’s yours! Your p-pussy—mhmm,” you cry, nodding frantically in immense rapture, “fuuuck, you fuck me sooo good… s’good!”

“Yeah, sweet girl? You like how I fuck you?” The dark, breathy chuckle that drags from the depths of his chest sends yours mind blank as you nod dumbly. “You like how I give you everything? All of my cock?” A big, greedy hand is slipping beneath the small of your back, pulling you upright and impossibly closer. “Yeaaaah, you like my cock, look at you…” his hungry gaze is scanning over your stupid expression, “eyes rollin’ to the back of your head like that. Can’t even hear me anymore, can you?”

A pool of light washed denim surrounds Satoru’s feet, the hem of his white t-shirt tucked between his teeth, baring the sweat-ridden skin of his chest and abdomen. The bruising buck of his hips as he fucks himself deeper is only scooting the large table further and further across the hardwood floor. Even his deep, guttural moans are like kindle to an ever growing flame.

It’s always the ones you least expect.

[foxstens]

not really enjoying blasphemous 2 atm