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#dont want to think
cyancees · 2 years
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i have neither a good imagination nor aphantasia, but a secret third thing
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incredubious · 1 year
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can I please get the Replying From Sideblogs Feature Please. im so tired of looking like this every time someone says something to me.
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hoshizoralone · 3 months
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reflection
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pissed-whizard · 4 months
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my blog is a gateway drug to cooler and better blogs (my mutuals)
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faunandfloraas · 26 days
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calling my lover "mine" but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, "mine" like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. "mine" not like possession but devotion.
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fairycosmos · 10 months
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it's like why do i feel ashamed of every action or inaction i ever make. will i ever be ok with myself. will i ever just let it be
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ratbaby15 · 3 months
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Got inspired, made something, hope you enjoy.
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Pretty accurate if I do say so myself.
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arillustrated · 9 months
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fuck it. avatar as calico critters
zuko, iroh and toph
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3rdsday · 2 months
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Tommy basically said "the DSMP was good because it was, and still is, loved" and that basically sums up my feelings on the matter too.
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shadow4-1 · 2 months
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"Can you just pretend to love me tonight? Please?"
Simon's never gotten a request like this before.
He's never had any qualms about selling his body. Whether it was for his cock, units of his blood plasma, or his war honed body. He's always done what he's had to - anything to stay off the streets and keep a full belly.
The girls who've paid him always wanted a brute, someone to mount them and take them for all they were worth. That was what he was used to, not some doe-eyed sweet thing begging him to be gentle.
"I want to feel loved." You admit, leaning back on the motel bed, thighs crossed in nervousness. "I um...I know I'm not very pretty-"
Simon leans forward on his knees and kisses you gently. Well, he tries to. The tip of your teeth graze painfully together as he mouths you. You squeak beneath him, hands going up to his shoulders to try and push him off on rabbit instinct. He pulls his mouth off of you just enough to mutter an apology.
"Sorry." He swallows.
You look up at him with impeccably beautiful eyes brimming with tears. You seem to finally understand there's nothing gentle about him even when he tries to be. Simon wants you to call him off, send him out of the cheap hotel. He knows he can't be as sweet at you want - as you deserve. He's just physically not built for that. At least, he's sure of it nowadays. He has a brief memory of holding his newborn nephew but it slips away just as quickly as it came.
"Can we just...go slow?" You ask again. Simon can hear the waver in your voice. You're unsure if you want to continue, but you seem to trust him for some reason. "Really, really slow?"
"Yeah."
He can do slow. He can do glacial. If there's one thing he can do, it's be measured, methodical. He wasn't a Lieutenant for nothing.
For the first time in years, he takes his time. He's used to the fast paced, hungry fucks that pay his rent in thirty minutes. This is...new, not wholly uninvited. He kisses down your collarbone, down the swell of your breasts. He nips at the lacy fabric (you dressed up for him when he was expecting just to rip it all off) as he makes his way down further. He laps at the skin beneath your belly button, making your belly flutter. Ticklish. He likes that.
Simon noses his way between your thighs, easily spreads your legs with his thick forearms. As he kisses down your cloth covered mound he admits he likes how you smell. Usually the taste of women turns him off. He prefers men, but desperate women pay more. You're desperate alright, although its a different type of desperation. Something about the nervous wetness staining your new panties has his cock jumping in his trousers. He presses his nose to the fabric, inhales deeply, and relishes in your shy squeak. Simon starts to understand your desire.
You want to be explored, mapped, and consumed slowly. You want to give up control but feel as if you can stop at any moment. You want to be seen, tasted, then completely devoured.
Instead of slipping your panties to the side, he licks his way down your thighs. You squeal and try to squirm away from the sudden sensation but he doesn't stop. He kisses down your calves and across the top of your feet. His hands are so large that they wrap around your soles completely. Simon pushes them up until they're up by your ears. He knows the position is uncomfortable for you, but he likes the view of your soft, cloth covered mound.
He nips at the back of your ankles and calves, licks down the expanse of your thighs, ans nuzzles into the gusset of your panties. Simon relishes in the squeaks and gasps ans twitches of your expectant body. It's been so long since he's teased someone, much less a sweet lil' thing like you.
Your scent is heady, comforting, nothing like he's experienced before. He finds he really likes just inhaling you in. You whimper, thighs shaking already. He hasn't even licked you yet. Simon finally admits to himself that you're stroking his ego.
He plants a firm, sweet kiss to your cloth covered cunt. The fabric is practically soaked through. He can smell your taste on the tips of his lips. His curiosity wins. He takes a firm, long lick from bottom to top. Simon tastes you, but also the flowery tang of your favorite fabric softener. You taste good. He wants more.
Simon finally releases his hold on your thighs. On instinct, or perhaps strain, they fall apart. You try to sit up but he tugs your body further towards the edge of the bed. He can feel the tension in his old knees from kneeling, but he ignores it. You've opened up your body to him. He wants to take full advantage of it.
Simon goes back to lapping at your clothed cunt. He doesn't stop until his tongue is raw from brushing repeatedly over the stitches. Drool drips down his chin.
"Off."
You huff in confusion, trying to sit up. Instead. With too easy of a tug, off come your panties. There you are. Simon knows he should slow his movements but he doesn't care. You haven't stopped him yet, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get those sweet lips in his mouth. He spreads you apart with his middle and forefinger. You're a sight to behold. Perhaps not pornstar perfect anatomy, but you're delicious looking nonetheless. He eyes your glistening, dripping slit. As bad as he wants to force his tomgue deep inside you, instead he presses a firm kiss to the hood of your clit. You jolt, trying to back away or pull him closer, he can't tell.
Simon follows your movement. He mouths hungrily at your clit, flattens his tongue and practically drools against it. He laps at you with a muted fervor. He doesn't want to hurt you. He can tell you're sensitive. It must've been awhile since the last time you'd had a man willingly do this for you. A damn shame.
Your shaky little moans are like music to Simon's ears. He follows them like a map. He circles your clit, traces the entrance of your hood, even dips lower to tease the sides of your inner lips. You seem to like that alot based on the sounds you make. He sucks on your inner wings and you squeal, thighs wrapping hard around the sides of his head. He does it again and and again until you're hiccuping in delight. Your slick drips down his chin and throat. You're such a good girl for him.
Simon knows he's going to make you cum, it's just a matter of time and technique. He has both on his side. He uses his other hand to pet at your entrance. He tries to commit your anatomy to memory, and so he takes his time dipping the pads of his fingers against your fluttering slit. Despite it obviously having been awhile, your cunt holds no resistance. In fact, it practically swallows up the tip of his middle finger. Fuck yeah, that's what he likes to see.
With measured ease, Simon slips his whole finger inwards and upwards inside of you. You keen and gasp and he can feel your insides twitching. You're tight. So tight he can feel his finger already starting to cramp up from the resistance.
If he's going to fuck you right he's still got some work to do.
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vinestaff · 1 month
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sighs. another guy in my brain i guess
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ninjasmudge · 3 months
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bought the dlcs, ive been doing naked crusade runs on my new save and it cracks me up every time
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astrangeavenue · 2 months
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drew some totally normal sadnesses
blank bg and individuals below the cut
edit: i posted some of my thoughts that went into these designs! if youd like to read you can find it in the reblogs
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theredcuyo · 1 month
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I forgot to tell this before but what if Bruce has redecorated many of the countless rooms in the manor to adjust to whatever thing his kids like
Dick got a training room for gyminastics, there are bars hanging from the roof, equipment Bruce doesn't even know what's for but that it surely entretains his son and the floor was totally replaced by mats
Jason? "Casually" his room has a secret room attached to it that you can only enter trhu a secret door behind a bookshelf in his bedroom, and "just by chance" it's also another library, that has "secret and censored" books for being controversial in their time, it also just happens to have a skylight and one of those one-way windows
Tim? Bruce made him a dark room, of course he did, that's attached to another room, the light is bare there, and it has two boards, one where you can use magnets and a marker and one for the old red string and tack's
Cass? A whole dance studio that she didn't ask for (none of them did, really) but she appreciates it, mostly because she can use it whenever she feels like it, even the middle of the night because its sound proof
Steph? Unnecesary, she appropiated one herself, later Bruce gave her money to do it whatever she felt like
Damian? One for him to paint, and it's clear he likes it because it's messy, Damian's own room isn't, but his one? Even the big window that lights the room is covered in paint and chalk here and there, the supplies might be ordered by color and size, but not a single one is ever totally cleaned
Duke was told he could choose but if it takes too long Bruce is choosing for him
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hellspawnmotel · 9 months
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I can't think of a nutcracker pun
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