#exorcisism

[bigbigtruck]

picked a bunch of mandrakes the other day

[sunnbnn]

It's high noon in Penacony...

[meep--tm]

i can shut the door on us but the room still exists

[ruushes]

images of this nature keep manifesting on my hard drive

[glassofpumpkinjuice]

(austin 3/8/24)

[matoitech]

posting this cuz i want it in my tag- new adventurers bible comic giving some backstory on laios and falins parents

[ramlightly]

Look, they're all very useful spells!

[shranstan]

I will forever believe the true reason Garak is nowhere to be seen during "Doctor Bashir, I presume" is that learning that Julian is enhanced and has been successfully lying etc for so long would finally be the straw that broke the lizard's back and Garak would be overcome with lust and do all in his might to consummate their relationship (if they hadn't been doing that already), and the sexual tension would have been so bad, that by the time the audience had realised they wouldn't be showing gay human-cardassian sex on the tv screen, even the most homophobic of watchers would have been like "Garak is so out of character in this episode, literally unwatchable"

[powerbottomblake]

dungeon meshi is soooo fucking great especially when it hits its stride and all characters have come into play bc it's just like

laios: I want to eat all the fucking monsters i want the monsters carnally

marcille: EATING MOSNTERS???? UNHOLY. UNCOUTH. DISGUSTING. anyway here's all the dark magic and necromancy i've got on the backburner to bring back my dragon-digested gf and also i plan to find a way for everyone to live forever at the cost of my very soul if need be

kabru, normally, in a normal tone he's rehearsed 42000 times in front of a mirror: I'M NORMAL. I'M SOOOO FUCKING NORMAL. I'M THE MOST NORMAL GUY AROUND AND I'M NOT CONSTANTLY PLOTTING ASSASSINATIONS FOR THE GREATER GOOD

senshi: I have all this trauma abt being the sole survivor of the fantasy equivalent of the franklin expedition but that's not important what really matters here is eat yer goddamn veggies or so help me

and the best part is that none of them are straight

[batshaped]

each more beautiful than the last

[deboracabral]

soft demon sad demon 💔

[luxurychristmaspudding]

Need To Know | Joel Miller x f!Reader

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

rating: 18+, MDNI. nasty shit, just be warned.

wc: 1k

thinkin bout how...

he's got you bent over his knee at the end of his bed, your thighs spread, the skin of your ass red raw from the force of his flat palm, your bare cunt dripping slick down onto his pants.

his body is buzzing with desire - all the blood that should be in his brain flooding his cock as he watches the way your ass ripples beneath him. he tells himself it's some kind of punishment for how you'd writhed and wriggled on his lap earlier in the evening. for how you’d proved yourself fucking impossible to resist.

your dad had insisted joel take you as his plus one to this fucking networking thing, and he’d have been stupid to turn him, or you, down.

he'd proved himself just as stupid by saying yes.

but he’d needed your charm, your warmth to soften his harsh edges. he just hadn't been expecting you to look like this, sound like this, feel like this - need it like this.

and he blames himself. he'd been too handsy all evening; a palm on the small of your back to guide you, one cupping your thigh at the table, one squeezing your waist during pictures, drifting dangerously close to the plush of your ass.

but you'd just looked so delicious - this dress, the silk, the thin straps, the way it flowed like water over your curves - you looked like you were poured into it. all night he'd been obsessed with any glimpse of skin he could get, staring hungrily, possessively. he'd watched as you'd crossed and uncrossed your legs next to him, as you'd gripped your purse with white knuckles, as you'd bit your lip and tried not to stare back at him.

he knows he'd never be able to explain it to your dad.

he’d kill him.

can't explain why he thought it was a good idea to drag you onto his lap so he could say something in a gravelly hum into the conch of your ear, so he could trail his nose down the length of your neck, so he could inhale your scent. can't explain the urge he'd had to kiss the junction of your neck and shoulder, so strong that he'd only managed to stop himself when the bristles of his moustache were tickling your skin.

can't explain why he thought it was a good idea to bounce his leg with you still precariously straddled over his thigh, why he shifted until he could feel your cunt, sopping wet, flush against him. why, with all those people watching, he’d pulled you against his chest to feel the vibration of your moan. can't explain why his hands fell to your hips, and even now he doesn't know whether he meant to move you or keep you still.

it doesn't matter.

doesn't matter, because at the burning feel of your pussy against him, he'd pressed a kiss to the top of your spine and told you you were leaving. now.

you'd stumbled behind him in your heels as he'd dragged you through the venue and out to his truck, fingers held tight in his. and when you were safe in the dark, away from prying eyes, he'd pressed you up against the cold metal of the door, one thick thigh between yours, rocking you finally, properly, against him. he'd hooked the gusset of your panties to the side so you could rub your slick all over the dark fabric of his pants, all the while cooing in your ear about how you were such a dirty girl, such a desperate little slut, gettin' all worked up over your daddy's friend like this. he'd pinned your neck between his thumb and fingers, pushing your head back, exposing you to him as you gasped and clenched and gushed around him, head fuzzy, fingers gripping him tight as you whimpered and pleaded and acquiesced, yes, joel, only for you, please, daddy, 'm sorry - until he told you with a clenched jaw and throbbing cock that that is not what you were to call him.

but you'd been so desperate, still, clambering over the console to straddle him in his seat in the truck, your legs bracing his hips so you could grind yourself against him, mewling about how you just needed to know, had to feel him, taste him, whether it was as good as you'd imagined. he could feel through your words how you would ache and leak and clench around him. god, he had wanted to give it to you, show you right there in the parking lot, but he hadn't. he'd just run his hands all over your body as you pressed hot, open mouthed kisses to his neck, laving your tongue over straining tendons as he bucked his hips, biting and marking and sucking as he talked you through another orgasm, telling you how he could feel your poor little pussy droolin' all over me, darlin', pulling down the front of your dress to take each nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking and biting until you saw stars. he'd held you until you were lucid again, slurring against him, begging him to fuck you - and he could see so clearly how you would bounce on his lap, how you would take him, how the two of you would make it fit - that then and only then had he pushed you off him, ignoring the tears in your eyes, growling that you'd made enough of a fuckin' mess already.

he had meant to take you home, really he had. had meant to pull up outside your father's, straighten you out, tell you in no uncertain terms that this could never happen again, had never happened in the first place, but under the flash of streetlights you were palming his cock through his trousers, unzipping his fly until you had him in your hand, squeezing and pumping, working the precum down his shaft so you could jerk him easier. then you were leaning over the console, dribbling spit down his shaft, swallowing him right down to the base, and he was moaning your name, gripping the wheel, balls drawing tight as you spluttered and gasped and gagged and slobbered, bobbing and hollowing your cheeks, licking and teasing -

and now your ass is sore, so sore; your pussy, too. you needed to know, needed to learn a lesson, and joel intends to make sure you won't forget. you burn beneath him, body on fire, cunt throbbing with the sting of his slaps, with your denied third orgasm, and you can feel him against your belly - twitching, still rock hard as he scissors his fingers inside of you. leaking as he spreads your slick around the outside of your puffy cunt, the tops of your thighs, drawing patterns with it. when he finally begins pumping them in and out in earnest, feeling you clench and keen beneath him, his thumb edging towards the tight ring of your asshole, he asks you again.

'you need to know, baby?' he coos, and you nod furiously, fisting his sheets, your face sweaty and screwed up, pouting at him through tears. 'then show me. show daddy how bad you need it, sweetheart.'

[momochanners]

I am OBSESSED with Neil & his wife’s fantastic looks at the Baftas last night, so redrawing time with Astarion and Dagmar…only I’m switching it up, because she has the more fantastic rack ✌️😔

[pokeberry5]

directionless anger

(or, something like: the robin mantle is a curse, but that isn't inherently anyone's fault and someone has to wear it)

i adapted the two pages below the cut bc they were haunting me—tim having a nightmare the day of his mother's funeral, from Batman (1940) #455: “Identity Crisis, Part 1”, from this post

[wolfythewitch]

We were having a figure drawing class this morning and a priest came in and started flicking holy water and salt everywhere. I think some of it got onto my shoes. They came in, splattered us with holy water, and then left without a word

[theworldlookswhite]

that eggman picture