I KNOW WHAT THAT „Ov-„ IN THE TAGS MEAN
GHOUL
GHOUL PLEEEAAASSSEEEE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
Yeah 4 asks is enough to pressure me into being a freak, but y'all should not be encouraging my depravity. The shame I feel, so I'm keeping this tamer than- no actually I'm gonna be a freak about this. Once again I am not going to heaven.
You're filled with hot, viscous, come as you orgasm on Threat's cock. The warmth of it seeps into you, tingles through your muscles, and makes your head spin. Your eyes roll, your back arches, you feel like you've been pushed to the edge again with no idea how you got there.
Threat sighs over you, their head dropping against their chest as they rock their hard cock into your pussy. They're muttering something, mumbling to themselves like they didn't just come in you. Their cock twitches, and they give a hard jerking thrust into you, bumping that aching soft spot deep inside you. There's a sharp tight feeling, something giving way to them, and you whimper, clawing at their shoulders for purchase as they keep pushing into you. You're just starting to blink the tears out of your eyes when their hand settles around your throat, their claws tearing into the sheets under you. They give a testing thrust and you grab their wrist.
Their cock drags against something entirely alien to you, hot and painful but somehow numb and tingling. You feel something thick against your entrance when they pull back, never leaving you clenching cunt. It bumps against you, stretching your hole, just a little more with each grind of Threat's cock. You try to breathe through it but that strange aching warmth won't let you do more than gasp. The bump pops into your pussy and you almost come right there, feeling it nestle against your g-spot and just press, press, press. The tightness of it zips through you, twisting the knot in your stomach as you feel it moving against your gummy walls.
You moan and Threat chuckles over you, grinds their cock against you again so you feel a second bump nudging your entrance. You whine, you can't get your brain to spark with anything but pleasure. You don't know what's happening, don't know if you want to, but you know you want more of it. Threat's teeth are sharp and dripping when you look up at them, their tongue darts out to drag along their lip before they smile, cooing down at you, "Feel good?" You nod, pout when their grip on your neck tightens, as if you'd go anywhere. "Eggs slut," They lean closer, lick their tongue against yours as you pant, feeling the next bump pop inside, "you're always begging us to breed you, so I'm going to fill you full."
Eggs. Your breath hitches, your cunt already stretched around two of them with a third attempting to make room for itself. Threat hums, pityingly, as your brows draw together, your cunt clenching around the eggs the seem perfectly suited to rub against every sensitive nook in your pussy. You jolt as the first one presses against that stinging, achy, spot, and you feel more come release into you, making your stomach tingle before a soft weight settles in you. You can't help the moan that slips past your lips, the soft succor of panic drowned by pleasure. Eggs, plural. The understanding alone makes you come, the egg already settled in your womb just adds to the shaking desperation of it.
Threat holds you down with a firm hand on your neck, hooks their other arm under your knee and holds it up to thrust into you, forcing the third egg in alongside its sibling. Christ. You sob, shivering and shaking with each roll of it against your sweet spot. There's no need to tug on your tethers to make you ride out your orgasm a second time, not with the way Threat's eggs drag against your poor cunt.
You get through two more squirting orgasms on four more eggs, each one sliding into your abused cunt easier than the last. You shudder at each added weight in your stomach. It's not much, but it's noticeable, and your stomach clenches, your cunt fluttering with excitement at each one added to the clutch. Fuck, you- shit- your eyes roll back as the last one slips into you with another burst of that warm fluid. Goosebumps rush over your skin, and Threat's hand leaves your throat to tease their claws against your clit.
You swallow, your hips bucking to follow the rub of their fingers as the claws melt into something a little softer. You tilt your head forwards to look at yourself. Your stomach is bigger, not by much, but enough for you to notice. You can almost feel your partner smiling over you, they're certainly quick to pull you up to settle on your knees, the shift in your posture also shifting the eggs cradled inside you. You moan at the feeling, your breath hitching as you look at your full tummy.
"Look at that," Threat's hand rubs over your stomach, "they'll feel even better coming out, granted we keep Soap away from you." You meet their gaze with a look of confusion, and their smile turns mirthful. "Wouldn't want him to fertilize the clutch, and keep us from doing this again, would we?"
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Bernie Sanders finally made a statement, on Nov. 4, calling for a "pause" in the bombing. People in the replies are saying "better late than never!" and I don't even know where to start.
The genocide has been going on for almost a month. Over 9,000 men, women, and children have been murdered. Thousands more have been wounded. Members of press and healthcare and their families have been deliberately targeted and assassinated. Israel has been murdering civilians en masse with impunity for weeks, both lying about it and blatantly admitting to it. 100+ Palestinians have been murdered in the West Bank due to settler terrorism backed by the Israeli army.
In an interview, Dr. Ofer Cassif, the Knesset member who was suspended for calling for an end to Israeli violence against Palestinians, revealed that he'd reached out to Bernie months prior to Oct. 7th because of the pogroms being carried out by Israelis against Palestinians which he said would result with an "explosion [of violence]", but received no response.
what the fuck do you mean "better late than never". what the fuck do you mean? the genocide is still ongoing, and, just like Blinken, Biden, and every complicit ghoul, he's calling for a pause. not a ceasefire. a ceasefire is just the start of what needs to happen. but he hasn't even called for that.
"better late than never" what gives you the fucking right to say that? tell that to the 10,000 people who the U.S. and its allies allowed Israel to murder. tell that to the thousands of wounded. tell that to the thousands who have been displaced. tell that to the people of Gaza who have been without food, water, and fuel for WEEKS. tell that to the Palestinians in the West Bank who are being murdered at the hands of settler terrorists. tell that to the Palestinians who were abducted and tortured and released with blue bands around their ankles. tell that to the Palestinians in occupied Palestine who can't reach their families and friends. tell that to Palestinians in diaspora who have seen their families, their friends, their people slaughtered with the full backing and support of the vast majority of western governments and media.
"better late than never" no, it's not good enough. IT'S NOT. there are SO many people around the world - both citizens and members of government - who recognized the injustice for what it was the DAY the bombing started. we owe the Palestinian people so much more than that. "better late than never" the ONLY thing that could POSSIBLY begin to even "make up" for the horrors and injustices inflicted upon the Palestinian people for almost a century is to end the genocide, end the occupation, end the apartheid, end settler colonialism, and dismantle the colonial state. Palestinians deserve NO LESS than total emancipation. Complete liberation. until then, it is not and will never be enough.
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SET SIX - ROUND ONE - MATCH THREE
"Electric Fan (Feel it Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate" (1997 - John Boskovich) / "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.A.)" (1991 - Félix González-Torres)
ELECTRIC FAN (FEEL IT MOTHERFUCKERS): it makes me literally insane that’s all that’s left of him and he made sure it would stay remembered, something something the last trace of a breath immortalized the only way it could be. Feel it, motherfuckers. (courfeyracs-swordcane) (also submitted by callixton and weeweewhirlwind)
UNTITLED (PORTRAIT OF ROSS IN L.A.): It fucks me up SO MUCH. The artist's partner was named Ross, and died of AIDS in the same year this was created. The ideal weight is roughly the average of an adult man. The allegory there... people taking the candy, decreasing the weight, the same way people took away from Ross and every other victim of the AIDS crisis by refusing to help, to do anything at all. Except this has an "endless supply" of candy. People can take and take and it keeps coming back. They can't get rid of us forever. We will prevail and we will rebuild and I WILL be fucked up about this forever (ceaseless-rambler)
("Electric Fan (Feel It Motherfuckers): Only Unclaimed Item from the Stephen Earabino Estate" is an electric fan encased in plexiglass with vinyl faux etching and a plexiglass base with casters by gay American artist John Boskovich--Stephen Earanbino's partner. It was the last item left in Stephen Earabino's estate after his death by AIDS and measures 56 7/8 x 22 3/4 x 12 1/2 in. (144.5 x 57.8 x 31.8 cm). It is held by The Museum of Contemporary Art in Los Angeles.
"Untitled (Portrait of Ross in LA)" is a modern art installation consisting of wrapped candies (constantly removed and replaced) by gay Cuban-American artist Félix González-Torres after the death of his partner, Ross, by AIDS. The weight is equivalent to a healthy human male - approximately 175 lbs (79kg). It is located at the Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago.)
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Foolish going in with two totems as a part-totem who never, never uses totems. His screams for Leo as the ceiling caves in, trying desperately to throw her a totem through the barrier. Digging, trying to glitch, trying to problem solve in a situation so chaotic and so impossible, there’s just nothing he can do. Not leaving until his totem pops - until he can’t see Leo anymore. Repeating to himself that she was right there, just right there, he couldn’t even get her a totem, he couldn’t do anything.
Foolish staying behind to make sure Tina and Mouse get out, to make sure he sticks with Cellbit, telling himself he can feel it later, as long as they survive, he can feel it later - and running out of time. If he hadn’t stayed behind digging for Leo, he would have made it. If he hadn’t given all but one of his enderpearls to the others, he would have made it. If he wasn’t looking over his shoulder for Cellbit, he would have made it.
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