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#it just came to me in a dream
anantaru · 4 months
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argenti likes his dick sucked medium rare
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phin-tastic · 10 months
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imagine:
fight club (1999) ; everything’s the same but tyler durden has a tramp stamp.
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bellalunadreams · 1 year
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Okay hear me out, art thief Sun and Moon and art restorer Y/n
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abisalli · 1 year
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bring your kid to work day 
★bonus:  he’s impressed 
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marisatomay · 2 years
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the council has conferred and it has been decided that the most painful ages to happen to a person are 12, 17, 19, and 23
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lotus-pear · 10 months
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lore accurate chuuya canonically drives a 2006 sparkly barbie motorcycle
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dizzybizz · 3 months
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"this is regrettably the best kiss of your life, you understand?"
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endermagpieart · 3 months
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What do you mean I’m a bit late for Janus’ big day? Of course not, how could you say such a thing! I definitely didn’t forget all about it in my absence and only get reminded in the incorrect quotes video live chat; that’s not like me at all ;]
Anyways I decided to dress our sassy snake in some different outfits I think he’d like. He seems like the type to get all dolled up on his birthday and it goes with Thomas posting pics in outfits inspired by the sides on their appreciation days!
@thatsthat24
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shirojikimattari · 4 months
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Handy Dagger loops
Start investing now!
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Ft. Selûnite Sharty
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beastwhimsy · 5 months
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this would happen
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noodles-and-tea · 23 days
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So…. I had a thought….
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puppyeared · 5 months
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au where asriel comes home early
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meowpupp · 5 months
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we need more puppy girl reader pls!!!
say less 🙏
1.4K- owner!price x chubby!puppygirl
TW- puppy play, degradation, cum play, exhibitionism(?), humiliation, sorry if you have a stuffed toy called 'fluffy,' general rough sex, HYBRID FIC, price is jealous over a stuffed bear, 
owner!price who decides you’ve been so good recently, so good in fact that you deserve a treat.
he sees it when he’s in cue for petrol- a cute stuffed bear. soft brown fur, fuzzy ears and big eyes. just like his favourite pup.
when he first gives you the plush it’s innocent. you give it a dumb name, fluffy or something. he doesn’t pay much mind. all he cares about is how happy his pup is, tail wagging and excited yaps.
after days of being sidelined by some stupid ball of fluff, price starts to get jealous. he knows it’s irrational. the bear is just something you entertain yourself with when he can't, but jealousy still stirs in his gut.
it’s like fluffy glares triumphantly at him when you give him attention. price watches in envy as you lazily chew on its ears, nuzzle and lick its fur. all things you used to do to him.  
one day, it gets too much for him. after a painful workday, all price wants is his sweet puppy girl. Instead, he walks into the house to see you cuddled up with the fucking bear. its beady eyes stared back into his as if saying, ‘ha-ha, she likes me more.’
he’s on you in an instant, ignoring your yelp as he pulls you up. price makes you kneel, pushing you back down when you try to get up.
“what, want your bear?” he scoffs at you, your brain still sleepy, trying to play catch up, “c'mon then, since you want it so much, ride it.”
it takes you a moment to process what he’s saying. ride it? Ride Fluffy? but he’s your bear- soft, warm and plush. he’s a toy, but not that kind of toy.
before you can even reply, price grips your jaw with one of his big hands. his skin is rough and calloused, almost scratchy as he manhandles you.
“are you deaf pup? or perhaps you think you only take orders from the fucking bear now?” price shakes your face side to side to catch your attention, “disobedient fucking mutt, don’t even know who your owner is.”
he kicks apart your knees, creating space for him to shove the bear between them. “go on. ride it. hump it like the desperate thing you are.” he takes a step back, arms crossed as he glares down at you.
Price scoffs when you start rolling your hips. His eyes analyse you, how your back arches, how your eyes screw shut, how your lips part as you whine. all while you grind down on your beloved plush.
“yeah… bet it feels good, huh? making your dumb puppy-cunt feel tingly?” the man sits back on one of the couches, lighting a cigar as he watches. “tell me pup, does it feel better than me? do you like riding the bear more than my cock?”
you whine, hips bucking at his growly voice. as you speed up, price laughs. he relaxes on the couch, cigar smoke filling the air, making you dizzy. tells you when to speed up or to slow down. when to grind harder or softer. directs you as if you’re making him a personal porno.
“ah, now look at that.” he stands, setting his cigar down on an ashtray. walking to you, he crouches down, “now pup, look at what you’ve done.”
he pulls the bear plush from between your legs, holding it up. it’s drenched in your slick, fur glistening. “poor Fluffy, you’ve made him a mess.” he sighs, throwing it on the ground, “dirty pup. can’t control yourself can you?” you shake your head, shaky hands reaching for him while you babble. 
his eyes scan over your body as you cling to him. ears low as your thighs tremble. you yap and whine at him- something about how it wasn’t enough, you didn’t cum, to please let you cum. 
Price sighs as if you’re an inconvenience. his eyes linger on your cunt. its dripping with slick, puffy and flushed from all the friction. he meets your gaze. melting at your teary, desperate expression. he doesn’t show it, instead reaching out, repositioning you. your back meets the hardwood, legs forced apart as he slots between them.
price doesn’t even look at you, his eyes trained on your cunt. his fingers poke and prod, parting your lips to watch your clit twitch when exposed. your hips buck as you squirm, causing a hand to grip your thigh and still you.
“such a desperate bitch,” his eyes finally meet yours as he slaps the inside of your thigh, “maybe i should get you a stud, hm? give you to some mutt, let him fuck you? then you’ll know how good i am to you pup.” his fingers start rubbing slow circles on your clit, “simon tells me his mutt is always full of energy. if you get this wet grinding, you’ll be yowling around that pups knot.”
prices eyes dart away from yours, ignoring your babbles as he continues to inspect your cunt. he slides a finger in, eyebrows furrowing. his other hand leaves your thigh, slapping your clit. he lets out shuddering breath as your warm, wet walls clench around hisi finger, his dick twitching.
“getting this fucking wet and loose over that thing?” he glances to the soaked bear, “need to teach you a fucking lesson. who your cunt is supposed to get wet for”
he pulls out, using the hand on your thigh to flip you over. he pulls your ass flush against his hips, a hand in your hair to force your upper body down. the bear lays just in front of you.
he audibly scoffs when you reach out for it, bringing it close for comfort. price pulls your tail, making you instinctively arch your back. he grinds your hips back on him, groaning. “shh, keep fucking still.” he grunts, rutting his clothed dick into you
it takes only seconds for your dripping holes to wet his jeans. even less time for him to unbutton his pants and shove his boxes down. with his cock now free, he thrusts between your thighs.
your slick acts as lube as he fucks the fat flesh of your thighs. “bloody fucking hell.” he growls. his dick just barely pokes out the other side, your thick flesh completely consuming him.
price angels himself, now nudging your clit with every thrust. you whine and squirm pathetically beneath him, back arching as he spanks your ass. he uses the hand in your hair to shove your face into the toy bear, forcing you to inhale the scent of your own slick.
you beg and whine into the plush, your voice now muffled. he continues, not giving in and fucking your cunt, grinning as you start to sob. he presses your face harder against the bear, fucking your thighs the same he would your cunt. his hips slam against your ass, stinging the flesh and making it flush.
within minutes, price cums all over your thighs. thick globs spill down the front of them onto the floor. as he pulls away, he pulls you with him- the hand in your hair forcing you onto your knees.
“look at the mess you’ve made,” he scolds, free hand circling your clit. the bear lays discarded on the floor, stuffing now soaked with drool and slick. there’s a puddle of his cum on the ground, mixing with your fluids. he ignores your babbles as you cry about not cumming, instead he pushing your face to the ground.
“i’ve taught you better than this, love. you know better than to make a mess without cleaning it.” price shoves your cheek into the puddle of his cum, the now cold liquid smearing across your face, “once you’ve cleaned up your mess, ill clean you.”
he lets you up. his hand trailing along your body to your cunt, slipping two fingers in, finally giving you what you’ve been begging for. “might even make you cum, hm?” he slowly thrusts his fingers, “ that floor better be fucking sparkling by the time i come back.” as he pulls out, he slaps your ass agiain. a sadistic smirk spreads over his face as he gets up, taking his cigar with him as he leaves.
tonight you’ll definitely be clinging to him, and not that fucking bear plush. 
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jayjay-thejet-plane · 1 month
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POV: you were curious as to why father simmons and father frehley’s car was still parked in front of your house after the wake and went to investigate
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dollsuguru · 3 months
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Request: Getou feels bad for secretly liking Gojo’s gf and making excuses to touch her.
the enormity of my desire disgusts me.
contents: f!reader, one-sided love, obsession, cursing, touching (not unwanted but the intention is unbeknownst to reader as geto makes it a point to always want physical contact w them), mentions of self-destructive behaviors, guilt, & delusions. w.c: ~ 2.3k
a/n: hi! tysm for requesting :’) this is my first ever request/first time writing so please bear w me & i hope you enjoy! constructive criticism is totally welcome! <3
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guilt creeps up suguru’s throat like a slithering serpent.
it crawls around the base of his tongue, writhing farther down, embedding its fangs into the flesh of his throat. a raw, mangled, bloody mess left in its wake.
remorse, witnessing the disarray that guilt’s plight leaves, frantically tries to discern where a home can be made. perhaps it can dance along his ribcage. pirouetting across his bones until it reaches a bloody cavern where it can dwell within a hole burrowed deep inside suguru’s heart.
maybe all of this despair can be washed away… a desire to cleanse his palate & purge his feelings away persists, yet he doesn’t allow himself the reprieve.
instead, he decides to swallow his shame down like a bitter whiskey, relishing in the thorn-like pin prickles. the harsh amber reflecting in his fatigued, glassy eyes.
the ache serves as a reminder.
suguru figures that the sharp gnawing pain that spikes his heart & torments his throat is the very least he deserves.
his therapist did say he had a tendency to wallow in his self-destructive thoughts. delude himself & cyclically make bad choices which turned into bad habits. but what’s another bad decision to him? a pyromaniac to his very core; suguru would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t enjoy playing with fire.
allowing himself a moment of respite, he fishes out a cigarette he stole out of shoko’s purse from the left pocket of his leather jacket. a silver heart-shaped vivienne westwood lighter in the right. he takes it out, rolling it softly in his warm palm, lackadaisically playing with the switch. imagining the cold metal were your cold hands instead, his own seeking to offer up warmth for your comfort. he gazes softly at the flame; flickering on and off. on and off. on and off. a burning fire reflected in his eyes. a burning desire razing his heart.
the whole world in the palm of his hands — the heart you presented to him.
(a gift from you to him — you begged him to quit smoking, it was bad for his health and you wanted him to be there in the future as best man at yours & satoru’s wedding. with a tight-lipped smile & crinkled eyes, he said he would.
always the deceiver.
you lit up, gaze softening while telling him to specifically use this lighter to light up the teakwood candle you bought him for his birthday. his smile turned fond, eyes crinkled softly with genuine mirth & adoration, he said he would. and he did.
always the sentimentalist.)
bringing the cigarette to his lips, he exhales a puff of smoke, allowing his low-lidded gaze to flit across the room. the warm lights illuminating the grungy bar, a favorite of nanami’s & shoko’s.
he reminisces on the days where both of you would talk for hours. from deep conversations about space, morality, your futures & pasts, to asking each other about what food you’d eat for eternity (cold zaru soba noodles for him, any form of potato for you), savory or sweet (both of you chose savory — suguru relishes in the fact that he has a connection with you on this), & if you two would still be best friends if the other one was a worm (both of you answered yes — you’d build a terrarium where wormguru could play & suguru would keep you in his pocket not caring if he’d be dubbed the weirdly hot worm-man.) from the serious to the silly, suguru felt his chest bloom with tender warmth. from the bottom of his heart, he knows that in this world and any others, he could truly be himself with you.
a soft sigh escapes him, a small smile gracing his face thinking about his memories with you. calling the bartender over for another drink after he downs his whiskey, he drawls out, “give me somethin’ sweet.”
he turns back around to the crowd of strangers, unintentionally smiling. he finds a few pretty boys & girls gawking at him, hyping themselves and each other up to go talk to him. he sees a few more pretty boys & girls looking away from his intense gaze, too shy to go up to him, praying instead that he’ll go to them.
the grin that previously took residence on his face falters. he finds himself upset that they’d think his smile was reserved for any one of them. none of them pique his interest per usual, & he hopes that the bags underneath his eyes, his myriad of piercings & tattoos, chipped black nail polish, and overall resting bitch face will stop anyone from coming near him.
(he knows it won’t. people often went after suguru and not satoru. he was always more caring, more in tune with his emotions with an air of magnetic mystique, unlike his brash, loud, & arrogant counterpart.)
suguru intakes a sharp breath, surprising himself with the haughty & bitter thought against his best friend, quickly washing it down with a sweet daiquiri hoping to honey the words in both his throat & mind, while simultaneously praying that it would soothe his heart.
slightly more alert, his gaze wanders around the room again. tired eyes widening slightly, lighting up greatly when he sees you.
there you were in all of your glory.
sitting leisurely, a leg swung upon the other, arm resting over the back of the tattered red vinyl couch, the very same one you both had countless conversations on. how were you so effortlessly cool? you could do anything and suguru would revel in it — drawn to you like a moth to a flame.
and like a moth, he found himself gliding across the bar towards you, his feet moving faster than his brain. his body demanding that it be near you, that it be graced with your presence. with a flick of his ring-clad fingers, his cigarette is crushed underneath his black boots. a piece of strawberry gum is popped inside his mouth along with another reapplication of vanilla lip balm to his lips to make sure that you knew they were soft to the touch.
with his heart beating ridiculously fast, he takes a deep breath before he stands in front of you, your perfume enveloping his senses making him slightly delirious from how delectable you smell. he prays that the blush dusting his cheeks fools you into thinking that he just drank too much; that it’s not because of you peering up at him through your lashes with your pretty eyes that are now affectionately directed towards his own.
“yo! suguru! long time no see!” you wave as you get up to greet him, a massive grin overtaking your face, eyes almost crinkled shut because you’re so excited to see one of your best friends.
without warning, suguru envelops you into a tight hug. his left hand placed against your lower back while his right hand cradles your head against his chest, your cheek pressing against his beating heart. suguru places his chin on the top of your head, craning his face slightly to get a whiff of your shampoo, ghosting a faint kiss on your hair that he knows you don’t feel, relishing in this moment with you. for a few seconds he can pretend… he deserves that much at least, he figures.
he could stay holding you in his arms forever, your body pressed up against his, protecting you from everything & everyone bad in this world, shielding you from predatory eyes around the bar. fucking wolves, the lot of them — suguru contemptuously thinks. it’s a good thing you’re here in his arms, suguru muses, confident in his ability to keep you safe.
as quickly as that thought dashes through his brain, you pull away. not wanting to alarm you with his panic that you’d leave him, a tight grip stays around your waist, forcing you to sit back down. he positions himself right next to you, his thighs touching your own, his right arm draped across your shoulder.
something that you can consider friendly.
something that he can consider more than that.
affectionate, no matter which way you take it.
“it’s been a while.” a fond smile beams across his face, bright amber eyes desperately glazing over your face. you’re so close to him and he’s so attentive to you, he imagines that the boy across the bar must think you both look like a couple. the pleasure suguru derives from that thought is second to none. you do look like you’d be his. he’s certain that he looks like he’d be yours, if his devoted nature is anything to go by.
he takes a a few strands of your hair, twirling them slightly around his fingers. “what are you doing here anyways? i wish i saw you before, we could’ve hung out!” suguru teasingly pouts, lips slightly jutted out, his eyes twinkling with playful mirth.
“tell me about it,” you playfully whine. “thankfully i just got here so we have plenty of time to hang out! don’t worry, i’ll make up for it so you can forgive me.”
“you never have to apologize for anything.” seriousness takes over his tone. suguru doesn’t want you to ever feel bad, even as a joke. not wanting to make you uncomfortable with his tense energy, he eases up his features and winks, “don’t worry your pretty little head about it, i’ll let you off the hook this time.”
you bark out a laugh which makes him elated, glad that he was able to make you smile. “sugu, you’re way too sweet! and ooh — you asked what i was doing here! toru wanted to chill out here for a bit, said if he didn’t get to drink a virgin piña colada right this second he’d faint.” you gaze around the bar, muttering under your breath, “he should be on his way here soon…”
right… satoru.
suguru feels his mouth get dry by the second, a venomous pang of guilt daggers his heart. his eye twitches along with his fingers, wondering if he should take his arm off of you.
if satoru saw this would he just consider it friendly touching? would he think that suguru was trying to make the moves on you? would he scream in his face about how can his best friend stab him in the back this way? the bitter taste of betrayal coats suguru’s tongue like a curse, and before he can do anything about it, a big SMACK! on his shoulder wakes him out of his trance.
“SUGUUUUUUUU! I MISSED YOUUUUUUU!” satoru bursts out onto the scene loudly, holding both your & suguru’s shoulders from behind the couch, bringing you two towards each other in a massive hug. with satoru’s face in the middle, smooshing both of your & suguru’s cheeks against his, suguru can’t help but feel a gnawing sense of shame.
satoru, affectionate as ever, kisses you both on the cheek. snowy hair ruffling with his actions, aquamarine eyes twinkling as bright as starlight, white eyelashes fluttering against the pink blush hued upon his soft cheeks. from here, suguru can see the light dusting of freckles on satoru’s nose, & the lightest sheen of gloss on his pink lips. no doubt from kissing you before he got here.
a twisted part of suguru is thankful for the kiss on the cheek, your glossy residue imprinted on his skin. an indirect kiss, he muses.
“sorry it took so long, i had to park so far away. hope you didn’t miss me too much, angel.” satoru pecks you on the cheek again, cheekily stealing an upside down kiss on the lips from you while he’s at it.
“no worries baby, i had sugu to keep me company.” you smile wide, eyes softening as satoru smoothes down your hair.
suguru forgot.
satoru trusts him with his entire life. with you.
the loud, brash, arrogant, self-centered boy suguru knew as a teen had grown up. cleaning up his act the moment he met you. enamored with your beauty, kindness, & personable nature — satoru fell deeply in love. he was still loud, but only to proclaim his love on the rooftops for you. he was brash at times but never with you. his arrogance was also truly never unfounded, he was just that confident in his own self and in the relationship he could have with you. suguru still thinks satoru can be self-centered at times, but never about you.
satoru puts you forward in every single aspect of his life — devoted. loyal. faithful. unbelievably constant with his love & adoration for you. your perfect other half.
your true soulmate.
you’re his one and only. and he’s yours.
“satoru! it’s been a while.” suguru prays the loud music can cover up the slight crack in his voice. he can feel his throat constricting like a python, he coughs to clear it, wanting to rid himself of the strangling feeling. he does what he does best in that moment: putting on a facade. a tight-lipped smile along with crinkled eyes graces his features, and he hopes that both you & satoru mistake it for pure happiness.
“you good, man?” satoru tilts his head like a puppy, looking at him questioningly. you do the same, concern clouding your beautiful eyes. he’s terrified that you both could see right through him.
“yeah.” suguru whispers quietly.
the ache that torments his throat & spikes his heart serves as a reminder.
he puts his warm hand over your cold ones in a comforting gesture. for who would it bring solace? he doesn’t know. at this point in time, he can’t bring himself to care. “just the summer heat.”
he brushes his thigh against yours once again, fiddling with your fingers softly. he figures he can allow himself this.
glancing into your eyes, his reflection stares back him.
he accepts that living with this ache of shame & this disgusting sense of desire is the very least someone like him deserves.
he figures he should allow it to devour him.
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