"And I won't wake before you go And I'll still hear your heartbeat So let love warm you 'Til the morning"
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thesquad-rp:
No I haven't and I feel like meds won't work. I feel like throwing up
Throwing up? Are you sure that you’re sick? This sounds like something else, my love.
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'you still listen to music from 10 years ago 🤨?' bitch if prehistoric humans had audio recording technology id be sat up here listening to grog and unga bunga's greatest hits don't play with me
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the hilt.
[1] - this blog does not observe romantic or sexual ships due to writer's preference, but all other dynamics are welcome.
[2] - this is a side-blog. you will not see a follow-back from this blog.
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headlocks 'nd könig
; getting fucked in a headlock
tw: headlock, power difference (?) female reader.
simon riley ver...
with one burly arm tightening around your nape, holding your body close to his, the smell of your perfume still lingering on your bare neck. you pant, heavy and lightheaded as könig grinds his muscular, broad hips upwards and against your pretty, tight ass.
“mein herz, don’t you hear yourself? panting like a filthy dog, aren’t you, ja?”
könig adores having complete control and power over you. with your body atop of his, his strong arm holding you close as he fucks and thrusts skywards into you, your thighs supple and spread apart, allowing him to fuck you with ease. the roughness of his hoarse austrian accent has you gasping through tears, two smaller hands grasping at his biceps, attempting to catch your breath as he slams his thick, hot cock into your wet, slick heat, the texture of your gummy walls addictive.
“what is it, little mouse. can’t handle a little’ roughening up, nein?”
könig taunts you for not being able to catch up with him, having more stamina and endurance, while you rest upon his large, brute body, panting and breathless as he knocks the wind from your lungs once again. the impact and force of his broad hips and muscular thighs against yours has you sobbing pathetically, feeling stupid under his harsh gaze, with your lips puffy from weeping and your cheeks sore from being slapped
“take me deeper, little bunny, let me show you how a real man fucks... can’t keep up? then you’ll just have to try, my dear.”
you grip his upper arm, muscles tensing underneath your fingers as he fucks you mercilessly, with his heavy, musky balls pressed against your ass, pounding into you like a mutt in heat.
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Thinking about teen Dazai asking teen Chuuya to help him with this new tactic he's learning (controlling his heartbeat). An hour later Kouyou walks into Dazai lying flat on the ground and Chuuya with his ear pressed against Dazai’s chest as he yells "NO you're supposed to do dot dot dash not- dude you lost the rhythm again it's too fast CALM DOWN"
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the way that one line from the new epilogue in an astarion romance is going to HAUNT me
just. what a profoundly intense thing to confess to someone.
like, just these six months of newfound happiness with you exerts a force on his heart equal and in direct opposition to two centuries of endless torment, the gnawing hunger and exploitation. this flashbulb-bright fraction of his long life holds the same gravity to him as years upon years of darkness and suffering.
in all likelihood, he hasn’t even known his lover for as long as his worst memory lasted, that year sealed away to go mad from starvation and sensory deprivation, yet he still tells them this brief time has been so fundamentally and powerfully important that the weight of even that unimaginable hell is vanishingly small compared to this present he has now and the future ahead of them both.
how am i supposed to act normal about this.
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📱 for Maki
Send 📱 for five texts my muse didn’t send yours, and one that they did
Unsent
- I think I won't make it home in time for dinner.
- My mother tried to call me, but I didn't pick up.
- Do I work too much?
- Am I a bad person for keeping my parents out of my life?
- I can see you...
Sent
- Hana told me she wants Mc Donald's today and I couldn't say no to her. What do you want?
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animus.
to become more human vs to become more of nature; the individualist separation vs the pathological connection; to carry on the legacy of a dead youth who never got the chance to live. what it means to be a real person [Pinocchio]
[the original verse.]
cole is a spirit of compassion manifested after observing the passing of a young prisoner who did not want to die. he takes up their identity to live out their wish while operating on his base nature/function in helping others.
due to being a spirit, cole does not understand regular social conventions. consequently, he will inadvertently step on landmine topics without realizing the consequences of bringing them up.
the nature of his being also entails absorbing others' emotional states, being able to 'see' and 'feel' where the threads of a person's current predicaments knot up into 'hurts' and this may come with some meta-gaming of him glimpsing imagery of your muse's past related to it. for the most part, cole will try to help, but he may be at odds with not knowing how to navigate with the appropriate tact.
to avoid any toe-stepping in this regard, plotting would be preferred.
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