#don’t know how to end this

[iwanthermidnightz]

Castles Crumbling (featuring Hayley Williams)(From The Vault)

Upon doing research for this post I came across this amazing thread that basically laid out what I was going to say so credit to this person! I’m going to add some excerpts/background in between. The themes of fairytales and folklore have remained consistent throughout Taylor’s career. With bejeweled, Taylor harked back to the fairytale and gave it the ending she now sees for herself. She took the castle.

Love Story. Enchanted. Today Was A Fairytale. White Horse. Speak Now. The Story Of Us. If This Was A Movie. Long Live.

“The young girl happily walks through a fairy tale land but as she gets deeper into the fairy tale the atmosphere changes and it suddenly becomes dark and evil. Hayley Williams also appears as a guide to her there.” (x)

A brick is such a traditional, tired and plain boring representation of solidity. I wanted the whole song to have this sort of fairy tale vibe… only to twist the point I’m trying to make in the song which is, ‘Stop living in a fake fairytale… like, WAKE UP!’ When thinking how I could really get that across in the song I decided I’d use a house. Someone’s safe place, even in a fairy tale… you can’t forge a refuge out of magic & fairy dust. You gotta build it just as real and as solid as a stupid old brick.”

—Hayley Williams speaking about brick by boring brick

cause baby I can build a castle out of all the bricks they threw at me / my castle crumbled overnight 🏰

the folklore of it all

She may be taking back the castle (the empire) that she worked so hard to build, brick by boring brick, but she has the power to burn it all down too. Castles Crumbling as a metaphor… can’t wait to see where this leads.

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[colinprovolone]

the low quality children

[skelet-bone]

in my humble opinion, minecraft has plenty of material to make a movie out of, it just has to be an artistic movie that is damn near silent all the time. also animated

like imagine a man wakes up alone not remembering who he is, he’s scared but ultimately finds a way to live, getting a dog, building a farm etc. one day while exploring he finds that he’s not the only person alive, he finds alex who’s been living with villagers.

imagine the movie deals with themes of mortality and immortality and being higher level beings. why are steve and alex different from villagers and pillagers? why are there lost civilizations? and what’s with the other dimensions? who were these old beings? are they one of them?

it could be a beautiful movie about purpose and how to live. especially with that end poem. the take away is you make you’re own meaning. or something like that

but no. we have jack black building blocks and shit.

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

Begging swifties to understand that Taylor didn’t write reputation and Lover with the knowledge of how the relationship was going to end and that trying to “excavate” those albums for evidence to prove a specific theory as to why it ended is not how they should be viewed. Taylor wrote those songs feeling a very specific way because that’s what she was experiencing and she is now reflecting on them with hindsight and relates to them differently than when she first created them. These conflicting emotions can exist; how she views it now doesn’t diminish how she felt about it when she first released it.

[bumfuzzled-bee]

!! Lil Ojiro drawings !!

[llmsos]

Mamas Boy off

[tahopo]

we truly regressed when people started buying into the genderbending is inherently transphobic thing. yeah that twelve year old being inquisitive and having fun on deviantart was your enemy all along.

[fredbydawn]

Happy Pride to those dudes in that bathroom (kinda a sequel to this)

[stark-lord]

Constantly plagued with thoughts of Edwin now knowing he enjoys being courted and Charles (compulsive charmer) with a whole new arsenal up his sleeve (laser focus on Monty’s whole deal)

“I mean, my smile is prett-y convincing” yeah yeah okay I can see where this is heading. Outlook not so good (for me)

[bluuscreen]

laios touden the monster man that you are…

original panel btw

[yourlocalabomination]

This is Hatchetfield, People go missing everyday!

[stararch4ngelqueen]

just need soft sex with jason

May have gotten a little carried away but ✨🔨🫠

—

Time written - 12:23 p.m

“I think I can walk just fine, Jason.”

Jason’s tone in response is lighthearted, playful even.

“It’s romantic, don’t you think? Carrying your girl to bed—” he pauses and chuckles at your expression, catching view of that eye roll while sipping your drink.

“We’d be like that painting of the angel holding a bride,” he suggests with a wide smile. “C’mon, not the first time I’ve done it.”

“Oh my god,” you giggle, tilting your head back in exaggeration. “Wow, look at you trying to be all cute and chivalrous.”

“Hey, let’s not downplay it. I thought I was being the most romantic guy ever,” he pouts, his expression turning faux-offended.

“I guess not,” he shrugs. “If you can’t appreciate that.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, acting as if he really is hurt. Then, without warning, he turns around to face you, broad hands clutching hold of you by the waist.

He hoists you up over his shoulder without hesitation, smirking from your sudden surprised yelps. He leaves your abandoned tea mugs behind, neglecting the lightswitch as he carries you down the hallway.

“I can walk Jase—!” Your amused beginning cuts off with an abrupt gasp when a firm palm smacks down on your ass, your shirt riding up over your curves.

“Can’t walk if your feet aren’t on the ground.”

“Jason!” Your annoyed tone didn’t last more than half a second before a smile breaks over your face. Chivalry was never dead with a man like him.

Your joyous fit of giggles merely died down after he gently sets you into bed, your head settling along your minor pile of unnecessarily comfortable pillows. Jason joins you without a second thought, his broad body comfortably caging you in. Any light from the hallway shadowed out once he floods your vision, enveloping you in a blanket of safety.

Then, without word, he presses his lips against yours, gently nudging your legs apart to snugly settle in between them. His breathing grows slightly rough, his braced hands grip tightly to the sheets as he feels your delicate little fingers find purchase along his back.

One of your hands trails up and down along his spine, causing the hair on his neck to flare up. He can already feel himself getting worked up, the hunger within him getting a little harder to control.

Jason spares a hand to roam along your minimally clothed body, running his palm along the soft skin of your hips and thighs.

A soft, little hum leaves your plump lips, his hand grasping along your soft, moisturized hip. The ache that bloomed in his gut desired more of those sweet noises, biting down on your tongue before rocking his hips forward.

You might’ve been just as eager as he was, your damp panties leaving a little impact against his navy sweatpants. The paired friction makes his waistband tug down, exposing the taunt v-line visible by lack of boxers.

“Jason,” you whimper out his name in the midst of him proceeding to litter your neck with kisses. He knows what you’re going to ask, he’s well aware of it. All he wanted was the green light to do it, one word to allow him this privilege.

“Yeah baby?” He murmurs against your skin, anxiously awaiting permission.

“Please.”

Such a gorgeously spoken sound, accompanied with a pretty bloom on those supple cheeks.

Jason groans as his body shivers. As much as he wants to control himself from going too fast, he wraps his arms around your legs, hoisting them up around his waist as he gives in.

With resuming where he left off, body hands running further up your body. You wore no bra to sleep, per his advantage. Pulling off the very shirt you borrowed from him to sleep in, he’s pleased with the sight of your breasts gently bouncing after momentarily sitting up.

“Oh my God,” Jason utters out in the midst of a groan, his calloused palms cradling both your sweet, glistening tits. “Mmm. Fuck, babe.”

You smelled incredibly good, like sweet honey cake dipped in melted frosting, sprinkled with toasted sugar. He’d fall asleep with his nose buried into your neck nearly every night, blessed with such a comforting fragrance off your warm body every morning.

You stuck to his memory as well as his clothes, every part of you tasting as sweet as your scent. The falsified rumors of the late Queen of France’s words held the most truth when Jason thought of eating you.

“Smell good?” You teasingly hum, biting your lip from his thumbs circling both your nipples, imagining your tiny hands in comparison to his rub luscious body butter along your chest every night after your shower.

“Smells fucking amazing.” He grunts, gently pinching both your nipples in between his fingers. Whatever smart remark you’re about to make dies in the back of your throat as Jason leans down, teasing your nipple in between his teeth. You suck in a deep breath, tangling your fingers into his messy black hair.

He’d help you take another quick shower after this, for now, all he needed was you.

Four fingers hook along your thin panties while assaulting your other nipple, your hips raising to comply with him pulling them off and down your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” Jason lowly groans from such a pretty sight greeting him from in between your legs, teal eyes heavy lidded with overpowering lust.

Jason shifts himself closer, raising your hips off the bed to rest further up along his lap. Both thumbs caress the smooth skin of your inner thighs before tracing around your puffy lips, one thumb nudging your clit before inserting two fingers into your pussy, pumping them at a slow pace.

Jason utters plenty of dirty, feverish promises as he pumps his fingers in and out at a quickening pace, his thumb moving in fast circles around your throbbing clit. He can’t wait to feel your rosy walls squeeze around him, muttering in between a handsome chuckle that your pussy is crying for it, gushing around his fingers so quickly.

Purplish plum colored hickies coat your inner shoulder as he draws a slow, modest orgasm from you, hooking his fingers with every buck of your hips, making you quiver and squeal.

Prayers composed of his name alone continuously leave your tongue, your pussy drooling as he removes his fingers, strings of arousal connecting between both digits. Chest heaving while Jason sets you back down, glazed over eyes watch his free hand tug down his constricting pants, pulling himself free from his confines.

He strokes himself with his wet fingers, further coating the tip of his fat, leaking cock with additional lubricant. He always knew you needed prep; not only wanted to, but needed to. He wasn’t being cocky (too cocky anyway) about his size, he was incredibly blunt about it when it came to the first time you had sex.

Even more so when he had been your first.

He never wanted you to hurt, even when the itch of impatience nagged at his brain to fuck you here and now.

His hand cradled the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your shower damp hair. To further stoke those flames, he parts your flushed lips with still damp fingers before shoving them in, tasting of salty precum and yourself as you run your tongue along them.

“Ohh, fucking dirty girl.” Jason mutters while watching, catching the crook in your lips form while sucking on his fingers. He takes your lips after retreating them, sucking on your tongue while lightly fucking himself with his hand, slicking up a majority of his length.

He guides himself closer, fighting back a grunt as the thick, heavy length of his cock rests across your slippery opening, sticky and sweet with arousal.

The both of you moan as he pushes inside, your walls stretching tightly around his girthy head. A low groan of satisfaction erupts from his chest while he sheaths himself in your warmth, his breath coming out hot and embarrassingly shallow through his nose.

“Fuck,” Jason mumbles before stifling a sharp whimper, fingers tightening on your hips in a death grip. “Shit, Princess. so goddamn tight.”

The heels of your feet digging into the back of his thighs, your nails drawing crescents into his skin. You want him as deep as he can possibly get, until you can’t remember where you end and he begins. The stretch is deliciously potent, a reminder that no matter how many times you do this, you’ll never fully get used to him. Neither of you would have it any other way.

He moves quite slow, rocking his hips in a speed that carries no pick up or roughness as he absolutely loses himself inside you. His lips roam all over your face, kissing away winces and mumbling soft apologies to your whimpers while you adjust.

Regardless of the pace, being stuffed full of his cock garnered pleasurable tears spewing from your eyes.

Your nails drag against his biceps, leaving raised lines along his muscles. He quietly pleads for you to dig deeper, desiring for his blood underneath your nails, wanting your marks to affect him for as long as possible.

The stinging pain has the desired effect on Jason, who spews out a sharp kiss as he thrusts into you hard once. The bed squeaks, the mattress buckling in the frame as it thuds against the wall.

A little cry leaves your mouth, your hips hitching up until your walls swallow him whole. Skin directly flush against skin, him buried so deep, kissing your cervix directly, his blunt head throbbing all against your sweet spots.

“Shhh,” Jason exhales against your cheek, both hands cradling your cheeks with eyes full of guilt from his impatient mistake.

“Shh, babe. M’sorry.” He reassuringly whispers along your lips, massaging soothing circles along your sides. “You’re alright, you’re okay. There’s my girl, my pretty girl .. takin’ me in so damn good.”

The gentle rock of his hips after a moment of rest isn’t subtle, much softer than either of you have had yet, but hot. So genuinely hot that the pure compassion between two star struck lovers almost makes up for the lack of speed. Two, aroused bodies taking in on such erotic pleasure as they made love for the first time all over again.

Jason catches your lips in a messy kiss as he plunges into you again and again, skin softly patting against damp skin.

Your lips travel along his sharp jaw, looking for the one spot by his ear that almost always makes him unravel each time. He tenses as you find it, cursing richly in your ear before grasping you closer.

“G-God fucking damn, Princess, you’re killing me,” he grunts out, growing a little louder before his voice cracks, gifting you a symphony of eagerly impatient whimpers whilst fisting handfuls of bedsheets, finally rutting into you just a little faster.

You can tell from the sloppiness that he’s close, and you’re not far behind.

You know every one of his weaknesses. Hell, you were at the top of that list, and it scared the shit out of him. Now, it makes him feel secure. And it’s in that security that he gives you everything.

His hips stutter as he fills you with thick, heavy ropes of cum, forcefully buried deeply with each staggered, drawn out thrusts. A cracked whisper of your name is all the warning he gives before flying over the edge, dragging you down with him shortly after.

You didn’t care if he finished first, all that mattered was the stark beauty of him that displayed across his face while he did it. Furrowed brows, eyes screwed shut in euphoria.

“I love you,” he chokes out, grunting heavily in your ear while hugging you against him for dear life, muscular arms slipping under your arched back, his pelvis rocking deliciously against your sensitive clit. “I love you I love you, I fucking love you—“

“I love you too,” you whimper out during a shudder, overstimulation creaking up and down your spine. You have him in a death grip, legs tangled tight around his waist, arms still tightly secure around his shoulders.

Your most favorite expression on him was the relief that followed after the euphoric tension diminished. Facial muscles melting as every inch of stress vanishes from his body, coupled with the satisfaction of doing so with the woman he so dearly loved.

His most favorite expression on you was the beautiful glimmer in your eyes after opening his. Gorgeous irises full of crystalline tears, tinted pink with satisfaction and awe of doing so with the man you so dearly loved.

[oobbbear]

A Missing Heart

[yandere-3-sagau]

Yandere!Wanderer x Secret Creator Reader Pt 2

warnings(s): slight angst, kinda? humanish wanderer (he can bleed, throw-up and cry), its unedited cause i’m spam posting my drafts <3

word count: nunya

First Part: Here

Wanderer never realized how much you affected his daily life until your absence began to sink in. He never noticed how much your smile and kind greetings made his heart flutter until his heart ached from the emptiness.

At first, he didn’t really think your absence was such a big deal til he’d wake up with tears in his eyes and the faint whisper of the name you had given him ringing in his ears. It was like you were haunting him. How could you name him with such care but disappear and not even think to visit? Did you really abandon him? Were you lying when you told him the meaning of his name?

Wanderer began traveling the world, following any reported sightings of the creator. Each time he’s left with a dead end, he feels his sanity wear thinner and thinner, a gentle touch away from snapping.

It isn’t until he hears of a parade being held to welcome and thank the creator for restoring the kingdom of Khaenri’ah. He drops everything he’s doing, and heads straight to your supposed location.

When he gets there, the streets were crowded with people watching as you give a speech high up on a balcony.

He ignores everything else, his focus entirely on you. It’s as everything melts into the background and his actions are on autopilot.

He flies over your position, not hearing any of the gasps erupt from the crowd nor noticing the guards that seem alert at his presence.

His are wide and blown out as he grips your wrists tightly.

“Wanderer…”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT…” he says, tears lining his eyes. Your eyes furrow in confusion. He seems unstable, face full of desperation.

“What do you mean…”

“… my name,” he says quietly. “Say my name!” You pause for a bit, not understanding what he wants. Finally, you speak.

“__”

The voice he has been longing to hear… the name he dreamt of you saying reaches his ears.

He lets out a choked sob, all the emotions he held in finally spilling out as he grips your clothing. It’s like nothing else in the world matters but the two of you.

Even as there are whispers all around speaking of blasphemy.

Amidst his sobs, he asks you all the questions that had been plaguing his mind.

“Do you really see me as a gift… a blessing? Am I really that important to you…”

You’re silent, unsure what to say as all eyes watch you. He feels his heart break at your silence.

“I’m sorry!” he shouts, hands trembling. “I’m sorry I haven’t been using it. I love it! I love what you named me, I really do!”

“I’m your blessing, right? Why aren’t you saying anything.” His movements grow desperate as he shakes you. “… you said so yourself, you can’t take it back. Why aren’t you speaking?!”

You notice the judging eyes staring at the man on the floor. You try to push him off of you but he lets out another heavy, choked out sob, his tears flowing harder. Your attempts to get him off you is seen as a form of rejection. “You-“ he suddenly doubles over, throwing up on the ground. ”…you can’t abandon me!” He screams.

The guards grow closer and he finally notices them. “Please…” he crumples to the floor, trembling hands clutching his chest. He gasps as he finds it hard to breathe. He feels a pressure in his head, and suddenly blood flows from his nose.

You begin to panic, seeing him cry so hard his nose begins to bleed. You bend over and bring him into your arms. Rubbing his back, you call out the name you’ve given him. “I’m not abandoning you. You’re a gift.”

He shakes his head, pushing himself further into your arms. “I’m yours! I’m your gift…” He needs to hear you say it. He needs you clear all the insecurities and doubts in his heart. He truly looks pitiful, his face covered in snot and tears.

The guards are unable to pull him away from you no matter how hard they try. His grip on you is like iron. The guards have no choice but to disperse the crowd. With a nod of your head, the guards allow the two of you some privacy.

Almost an hour passes of him crying into your arms, begging you not to abandon him and demanding you say his name over and over again.

Finally, his tears run out and he’s left sniffling with his eyes swollen shut from the salty tears.

“You love me, right?” he whispers, staring up at you from his position in your arms. You sigh and press a kiss to his forehead.

“Yes, I love you ___.”

He smiles with his red puffy eyes and tear stained face.

“I love you, too…” he whispers before he passes out, the exhaustion finally taking over. You try to move but even unconscious, his grip is tight and unrelenting.

You sigh and let him cling to you. You’re glad that he likes the name you’ve given him but you’re a bit concerned on how much importance he’s placed on it. As you relax in his hold, you fail to realize that simply typing in a cluster of letters into a game has set your fate in stone and that no matter how hard you try to deviate from it’s tracks, you’ll never be free from it’s grasp.

[waywardsunlight]

Dead End Paranormal Park got cancelled.