#god bless me i guess

[phantonixx]

I've been creating Nervous Subject's playlist for a good while but... it's mostly metal. maybe one day if I'll gain enough courage I'll post this

[honeyrins]

[Batman] 💛 Father - Daughter Ballet Practice 🖤

[xinilia]

the great thing about hua cheng’s devotion is I straight up cannot get enough of it. I will reread fics hundreds of times just to hear him describe the sheer depth of the adoration he feels for xie lian. it’s therapeutic to hear about how much love someone can be capable of

[arttsuka]

have Jedidiah and Octavius watch brokeback mountain on Larry’s phone

Sorry anon, but my headcanon is that Jedediah watches it alone for some reason (maybe Octavius was busy that night with something else) and he starts questioning his whole existence.

Internalized homophobia am I right? (Also Jed is definitely the kind of person who thinks like 'this isn't all that bad except from when I'm doing it, then it's the worst thing ever). Anyway, I think it's way more difficult to actually think about your feelings than just have them. It can be scary too, putting a proper name on a situation.

Then he just kinda dissappears for a few weeks, no one knows where he is. He doesn't say anything to anyone but even when he gets back he kinda avoids everyone.

He vents to Larry without giving him any context.

Octavius just blames Larry. It was something on the phone that made Jedediah upset, so naturally it must be Larry's fault.

They make up in the end but I don't know if they talk about what actually happened. Maybe Octavius watches brokeback mountain too and he understands idk

A little sequel to this here

[crystalflygeo]

Sweet torture ft. Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: bondage/shibari, muzzle, oral sex (m!receiver), dom/sub dynamics, reader doms in this one ayyy, sub!zhongli, TEASING lots of it, masturbation, sex toy, improper use of geo (lmao).

notes: What did I just write?? We just don't know. I am sorry I saw one (1) fanart of Zhongli wearing a muzzle and went b a l l i s c t i c. Also.... dom!reader hella. This is so filthy and I'm so sleepy.....

It was torture. You were torturing him.

Zhongli groans, muscles tense as he feels your fingers gently stroking his member. The sudden touch makes him jerk, but the intricate ropework laced around his arms holds him nicely to prevent any more movements and instead keeping them tied at his back.

He couldn't touch you, kiss you, hold you...

A sweet yet deliciously devilish laughter comes out of your lips.

And then you lean down and start giving small kitten licks to his dripping cockhead before your hot, wet mouth starts slowly enveloping him, bobbing your head with lewd wet noises and purposefully drooling all over him. Messy. Obscene. Painfully driving him mad with lust.

“Darling, please.” He moans hoarsely.

You pull back with a smirk “Hmm? Are you about to break your own contract? My dearest Zhongli?”

He huffs and growls, shaking his head.

As easily as he could break out of these ‘restrains’ he had made a deal with you, so all he could do was toss his head back and endure.

And oh… you could definitely see the appeal of being the one in control.

The lord of Geo. The mighty Prime of the Adepti. Bound and muzzled like a feral beast. Squirming under your touch.

You kiss down along the side of his impressive cock, lightly tracing a vein with your tongue and making it twitch. “Hmmm… seems like you’re all ready for me.” Zhongli gasps as your fingers follow the fine trail of hair from his bellybutton down, teasingly. “It’s my turn.”

For a moment he thinks the torture is over and you’re satisfied with your small game. You’ll release his arms, or at least take off the horrible muzzle (“no biting tonight, dearest.”) and allow him to eat you out to his heart’s content.

How wrong he was.

Zhongli’s eyes widen then he scowls and jerks into his restrains again, shuffling on the bed when he sees you pull out one of your toys. He glares at you. You wouldn’t.

You smirk in response. Watch me.

“Relax…” You smile, sickly sweet. Leaning back onto a pillow and spreading your legs. “Just enjoy the show, darling.”

You start by teasing your entrance, gently, slowly. Caressing and pinching at your clit and slowly easing the oiled tip of the object into you. A rather special geo construct of Zhongli’s own creation. Sweet irony.

“Hmmmm…Ah…”

He snarls, glaring at the offending object as you slowly feed the fake cock into your pussy, inch by inch stuffing you as you let out a quiet moan. He knows you wouldn’t be satisfied with such a… crude and lacking replacement, no. He knows you ached for him, his warmth and thickness that could fill you so much more, satisfy you so much better.

You bite your lip and whine as it bottoms out.

“This one is… hah… rather accurate huh? … hng!” You mewl, squeezing your eyes shut as you start pulling it out only to push back in. “A-ah- fu-!”

He tries to keep calm. By Celestia, he tries. But the sight of you, naked and sweaty, presenting yourself so freely and displaying your pleasure, makes it excruciatingly difficult. You rock your hips and moan his name, high-pitched. Getting more and more used to the intrusion and thus increasing the speed.

“Z-Zhongli, baobei” You keen. “Wouldn’t you be a dear and apply a bit of resonance?”

A growl. “I would rather have you myself, my love.”

You let out a breathless chuckle. “Of course. But don’t you want to see me come undone first? We do have a contract and for now you have to do as I sa-a-y Ah! Oh fuck-!”

You bite your lip, whining, eyes rolling back and hips moving on their own when the geo construct indeed starts buzzing low on your hand and inside your pussy. The sensation drives you up to the edge of that high, delicious simmering heat all over your body and pooling at your navel. Feel so good, so good-

“Zhongli, Zhongli, Zhongli-”   

You come with a cry of his name as your body arches away from the mattress, high-strung with pleasure, free hand clawing at the sheets. For a few seconds you lie there basking in the afterglow, chest falling and rising rapidly until you sit up and slowly pull the toy out, shuddering at the wet squelch.

Your gaze sets on the man in front of you, looking absolutely pent-up with sexual frustration. Cock pressed up hard against his abs and smearing tacky precum everywhere.

You scoot up to him with a playful smile, eyes half-lidded as you sit upon his lap. You brush your hand down before bringing it back to run a slick-covered finger over the muzzle, the metal turning shiny and no doubt getting impregnated with the scent of your arousal. You see him open his mouth and pant slightly, sharp fangs on display, nostrils flared, eyes half-lidded and pupils brown wide as he chases the path your finger makes.

Oh, he is absolutely drunk on you.

You place your hands at his shoulders for leverage and this time (finally!) slowly envelop his cock with your warm pussy.

 “Now’s your turn…”

[seiwas]

instagram dump with your selfship! (model/actor!au sel x satoru ver.)

seltoru behind-the-scenes dump — work days and winding down~

liked by sstoru and others

sellybelly last week's shenanigans ✨ 1: shoot day! 📸 2: nails sponsored by mr. gojo satoru 💅 3. loved our outfits for the awards 🥺 (thank you dior! 💫) 4. that feeling when you change into home clothes tho >> 5. maybe he's pretty sometimes 🙄 6. caught him in the act (texting me during a meeting 😭) 7. satoru in hair & makeup (some good sleep he's had there 🤧) 8. our lil treat to end the week 🍓😋 9. phone hijacked by mr. gojo satoru 🧿🧿 👁️👁️

sstoru knew you were obsessed with me 😌

thanks for the tag my love @tteokdoroki this was so so fun 🥺 tagging: anyone else who wants to do this!! it's so pretty and so fun 🥺

[jvzebel-x]

here's an update for all the "tOuRiSm iS fOr ThE pEoPlE" fucks. always remember that the second anyone steps foot on that land in the name of "tourism" or any other haole institution, that is colonizing&that person is a fucking explicit modern colonizer who made the conscious decision to be one and has spent a lot of fucking money on that trip to get their title. only that kine want more of their kin there-- don't pretend that shit is for anyone else.

drop dead of spontaneous combustion specifically, not even the sharks would want that pīlau fucking meat.

[theloveinc]

love love LOVE dabi who goes nuts when he doesn't have your exact location

[penwrythe]

What's stopping the possibility of a ceasefire is pretty simple. Hamas is holding 239 Israeli civilians hostage including children and the elderly. What's happening in Palestine is a travesty and horrendous. But Israel can't initiate a ceasefire from the position they're in, so we need to be agitating for Hamas to release the hostages and call for a ceasefire instead.

NO GENOCIDE IS JUSTIFIABLE

HOW DOES THE KILLING OF INNOCENT PEOPLE ON THIS EXTREME LEVEL FORCE HAMAS TO RETURN HOSTAGES??

ISRAEL'S BOMBARDMENT AND INDISCRIMINATE SHOOTING IN GAZA THREATEN EVERYONE THERE INCLUDING DOCTORS JOURNALISTS CHILDREN ENTIRE FAMILIES AND THE HOSTAGES

EVERYONE IS TARGETED

YOU HAVE HOSPITALS BOMBED HOW ANY OF THIS IS JUSTIFIED

@sarroora @fairuzfan @palipunk @wearenotjustnumbers2

You know more about this than I do.

[keymintt]

dyed my hair blue again

[muckyschmuck]

AAAAAAAAA

[andy-clutterbuck]

[nadjasnandor]

so happy to live in the world of canon possessive & jealous nandor. i deserve this

[shanicetjn]

Wildn't Doodle

Don't threaten him with a good time.

Doodled - 15 May 2024

[anthrofreshtodeath]

untitled drabble

clearly I’m still thinking about Jane and being bad.

—-

Jane lumbered out of the confessional booth in St. Joseph’s, her boots heavy against the well-worn tile as the wood of the seat creaked beneath her. Everything about the moment was so damn old, including her, she thought. She refused to think about the physical aches and pains that came with her exit because Maura had a concussion - a fucking brain bleed - and Nina had just gotten out of surgery, but she couldn’t block out that ancient catholic guilt, belonging to the generations of parishioners here before her and settling on her shoulders now.

Not her guilt - to be quite fair. No, she felt something far older, something that tingled in her fingers, dragging them to the holster on her hip. Perhaps that feeling was catholic, too. But the absence of guilt told her that here was where she needed to be. 

Told her she might be too far gone, and so she’d better get her ass to church, because she’d felt this way before, and it’d caused her to do some stupid things.

And forty years of guilt other people told her to feel, it aged her. If not in body, in spirit. How many times had the tang of vengeance singed the back of her tongue, only to be cut down by the icy deluge of admonishment? How many times had she been told that she felt too much, too often?

Now the tang was all she could taste, and the best she could do was stand before God ahead of time. Because like she told the priest, she hadn’t been to confession in years, and there was a lot to confess, but perhaps her grandest sin was standing in defiance of regret.

Not for what she planned to do now, anyway.

She marched right past the pews on her way out the heavy double doors, only breathing in when that chilly fall air settled on her face.

It’s not what I’ve done - it’s what I’m going to do.

She’d left an important part out. And that I might not make it to the other side of this. 

That, however, was a sin for another confessor, and Jane, craving nothing more than the Newports she used to chain smoke in junior college, prepared herself for more penance on her way to her car. 

Beacon Hill had been aptly named, because it called her. 

She released herself into the driver’s seat of the unmarked with a thud. When she closed her eyes for a bit of peace, to quiet the raging of all those thoughts before she turned the key in the ignition, she exhaled. Loud, unsteady. 

God she needed sleep.

But first, she needed to get to Maura.

So, she buckled up, blinked herself into wakefulness, helped by the light of the moon, and drove west to Beacon Hill from the North End. 

She’d made the trip a thousand times over the last five years; she barely needed eyes on the road. She used most of the time to think of what to say, or rather how to say it. She thought she’d just about got it right when she pulled up on Pinckney street, but it left her when she shuffled through the courtyard and turned her key in the lock.

Maura was standing there, back to Jane when Jane entered, still in the day’s black blouse and pink trousers. Still with the butterfly bandage on her head, in front of a sink with dinner’s dishes still soaking inside. Maura herself stared out the window, gripping the lip of the counter.

“H-hey,” was all that Jane could muster. She closed the door with respect, the latch clicking softly. The warm light of Maura’s front room caressed her, such a sumptuous affront to the dimness of St. Joseph’s. It almost burned away the murder in her. 

Almost.

“Hi,” Maura answered, but she never turned. “Where have you been? Your mother’s been looking for you.”

“I… hmm,” Jane did not expect the emotion that stifled her. She pushed through. “I went to church.”

“To church? What for?” Maura began to scrub.

“Confession,” said Jane when she brought herself over to the granite counter. She placed each hand on it, key ring still looped on her index finger, teeth biting into her palm as she pressed. She licked her lips - that is how the moment should feel, yes. Again, penance. The discomfort met the mood.

“Oh,” Maura acknowledged. There was a beat, like she would be too defeated by her own pain to ask about Jane’s. But then she cleared her throat. “Am I allowed to ask what you confessed?” It was quiet, timid.

And Jane hung her head.

Where was her Maura who, at the start of those five years, had winked at her and asked did you have a lot to confess to? Who had put sex into every syllable of that question? Sex and unequivocal joy? 

This Maura, run ragged by circumstance, by the violence in Jane’s orbit, barely allowed herself space in Jane. 

And that angered this Jane, hollowed out and filled up with nothing but rage and the animalistic fear of losing whatever iteration of Maura she could get.

She walked over to the sink, dropped her keys in her pocket, and put her face to the crown of Maura’s hurting head. It still smelled like flowers and fruit. “You’re allowed to ask things of me,” Jane whispered. She hoped Maura felt it like Jane felt strands of hair against her wet lips. The walls fell. “You’re allowed to demand things of me.”

Maura stiffened. There were long moments where she only tightened her grip on the counter and Jane only froze in place. But then. Then. “Tell me what you confessed.”

“That I wasn’t, hmm,” Jane found herself struggling to find the right words in light of Maura seizing her opportunity. “That I’m gonna-“

“That you’re going to kill Alice Sands,” Maura said.

“No,” Jane replied.

“Then tell me,” Maura ordered.

Jane’s old, tired heart thrilled. It beat faster, sending another impulse to her fingers. This time, she obeyed, wrapping them in Maura’s hair and tugging. 

Maura hissed when she went back, but Jane knew.

Jane knew that it wasn’t from pain. She moved her lips to Maura’s temple. “I’m gonna feel no regret when I put a bullet in her head,” she murmured. “I confessed that I’m gonna kill her and I’m gonna enjoy it. But there was somethin’ I left out.”

“Don’t make that mistake twice,” Maura turned her head so that her mouth danced on Jane’s as she spoke.

“Wasn’t a mistake,” Jane returned the favor. “I was savin’ it for you: I might have to give myself up to get that. To end her. But it’s a price I’d pay every time.”

Maura’s gaze narrowed, and Jane’s grip loosened, but they stayed close. And when Jane’s fingers, still in her hair, settled on the nape of her neck, she uttered one last command. “Well, make sure you don’t have to. Because I’m not god. I won’t forgive you if you do.”

And Jane, reinvigorated, nodded. 

[goldensunset]

everyone told me she was terrifying but they didn’t tell me she was so cool and nice