Who's Theme - NUJABES ft. Minmi
Llévame a dónde estás
vuélvete viento, suspira llévame a donde vayas
連れてって あなたの場所へ
風になって 息をひそめて
連れてって あなたはどこへ
時を超え 心ほどいて
ゆれる日だまり 白く遠く
あても知らない 記憶ほどく
薫る向日葵 未だに
散らない 気長に
教えてよ全てを
知ってしまう不安
なのになぜ知りたくなる
ゆらぐ想いよ
春夏秋冬奏でて
明日を行く旅積み重ねて
気付けばあなたと 夢の果てまで
連れてって あなたの場所へ
風になって 息をひそめて
連れてって あなたはどこへ
時を超え 心ほどいて
耳をすませて たそがれるまで
隠れたままで 迎え待って
気紛れな風
きっかけめくれて思い出
あの頃…
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the irony of this year's met gala theme being based on a short story about cloistered, decadently-dressed aristocracy desperately pillaging the natural resources at their disposal to hold the advancing tide of the restless underclass at bay is honestly baffling
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[head in my hands] i think that older bf! simon gets off at how dependent you are on him. that every waking hour, you seek him out. it makes him thrum with something sinister; his heart heady with something dark.
you don't even notice—that's the best thing.
it was just natural for you to come to him, curling to his side like being beside him alone gives you the courage you need or grants you the peace of your mind.
he pushes your hair away from your face and you turn to him with a shy little smile, cheeks round and lips twitching. you don't ask him but he gives it to you anyway—a kiss on your forehead, because you're his precious love.
so good for him. so needy.
simon adores it. he adores the way you can't live without him; how you've made it so you two would be inseparable. he is your rock, you are his lifeline. sure, you don't know just how deep his greed runs—murky waters, blood dripping from the corners of his lips—but it's not like you had to know, anyway.
all you had to do was to stay close, for him to spoil and cherish. for him to love.
"y'need me so much, don't you doll?" simon asks, crooned words pressed on your fever-hot skin. "can't think without me. can't live without me. such a darlin', y'are."
you keen, breathless, unable to speak past warbled gasps. you feel the slow stretch of his cock as you rise, the glide torturous, hitting every of your sensitive spots, before you sink back down again, stuffed whole, his cockhead breaching into depths you never knew was even possible.
too mu'—!
simon's hands move, jostling you from where you are on his lap. they hook on your waist, dimpling your skin as they sink into your fat. it makes him groan, seeing how full you are against him. how full you are of him. seeing your softness, your tenderness, immortalized in his hold like this—weeping, leaking, cunt gushing—makes him whimper, mind splintering at the overwhelming pleasure.
not enough. s'not enough.
(simon doesn't realize how needy he is of you too.)
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how much do i have to pay you so that you can at least ATTEMPT to add frebby fazbear into the magnus protocol
This tickles me a bit, because thinking about it, we have kinda done some mascot horror in Protocol, but whereas chuck-e-cheese is the archetypical American version, we've drawn horror out of a 90s British mascot. And I'm pretty confident which of the two is more fucked up.
Five Nights at Freddie's does interest, though - I grew up when there was quite a rich array of horror stories aimed at kids: Goosebumps, Are You Afraid of the Dark, the Point Horror books. Now it seems like a lot of that stuff have been supplanted by franchises like Five Nights at Freddie's, which is aimed at kids but marketed as though it's not, and does a lot to try and launder its intended audience. It's interesting to me, though I don't feel like I have a well-developed thesis about it.
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to you it’s perverted gross sex. to me it’s being creative, working through traumas and baggage, healing my inner child, playing, practicing intense vulnerability, finding even more ways to fall in love with my partner, finding more ways to fall in love with myself, learning confidence & how to ask for what i want, care work, emotional release, relaxing, community building, theater, dance, writing, problem solving, therapy, radical honestly, and so much more. and also it’s gross perverted sex.
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