Oh My Godddddd - Tumblr Posts
Okay @sp1derc1der I know it isn't exactly what you said, but I spent all day at working thinking about them in an Ikea so....
Taking a child (your 40 year old husband) to a furniture store so he can buy a stuffed plushie of a sea animal <3
of stars erased | 02
pairing: jimin x reader
genre: futuristic dystopia au, angst, smut.
word count: 20k
summary: you are a citizen of seoul - one of only a few thousand survivors after a violent war that tore your country apart. jimin is a member of the faceless law enforcement who serve to implement the government’s totalitarian regime. when worlds collide, an unlikely friendship places both of your lives on the line.
warnings: 18+, mature. descriptions of violence & injury, mention of burn scars, minor character death, corrupt law enforcement, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (male & female receiving), strong language. please do not read if any of the above are likely to upset you.
(a/n - here is the second (and final) part! This was a beast to edit, and there’s a lot I’m still unsure about, but I hope you guys like it nonetheless. see extended a/n at the end.)
➵ @serendip-jiminie
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December rolls around in a bluster of ice and biting cold, and both you and Jungkook layer up to the max for fear of getting ill. You deliver your messages at a steady jog so as to keep your blood flowing, hopping from foot to foot as you wait in line at the checkpoints. You haven’t seen Jimin at the Jung-gu gate since last month, but you do recognise the deep drawl of his partner Tae a couple of times, always ending his search with a snide remark as he sends you on your way. You smile to yourself beneath your mask as you go - if only he knew.
Keep reading
Why, who is THAT moseying on in…? A new friend? …find out TOMORROW, when we reveal a BRAND NEW GAME from LimboLane!
Happy, (extremely late) Valentine day! Have these two birds who love the same albino wolf.
I swear to GOD while listening to IZ music I started to notice this distinct… motif of sorts in very Dib-centered tracks (that I hope I’ll gather the braincells to explain coherently if someone else doesn’t) and I’m going insane slowly being able to hear this signature sound/vibe to the point of noticing when it shows up in battle sequence tracks between him and Zim. Like Zim’s themes (Irken characters in general) have their own kind of pattern you start picking up on, and you can literally hear like a distinct difference between that and this “dib element” which is, I’m going nuts now parsing through as much as I can find because Kevin Manthei’s genius and attention to detail as a composer is going to keep me up all night at this rate
IM SCREAMING SOMEONE ACTUALLY DID AN EDIT
alpha hydrae for a drawing prompt: “900 with snakes”
So, as a Christmas present for my mutuals, I decided to draw their PFPs as of the time of this post. However, I inflicted a bit of a challenge on myself. (This is in spite of the fact that making art is enough of a challenge for me.) Originally, I was just going to draw on only one layer. However, I often just do that anyways for my simple doodles. So, instead, I gave myself the challenge of not being able to press the undo button on Ibis Paint X. I… Think this actually led to some goofier results. Since I couldn’t undo, I had to make do. Things got progressively harder, and therefore, more and more derpy as the drawings go on. So, Merry Christmas to my mutuals I drew these for, hope you enjoy! (I’m posting this on the cusp of midnight for me, I can still technically wish you a Merry Christmas.)
@hwljpg
@impostorwhipplesshow
@funni-bunny-thing
@artfartt
@cheleik
HOT TO GO! (rarijack edition) preview!!! the full animation is coming later in july, this is one of the biggest animations i’ve ever made and i’m super excited to share the full thing, this is just a tiny piece lol
(*￣ー￣*)/~~☆’.･.･:★’.･.･:☆’.･.･:★
Inspired by this vine
James' particular tastes
Or, headcanons about introducing JPM to snuff films
18+! Under 18 - bye bye or I will block u
Contains: descriptions of murder (not detailed), snuff film description (not detailed&made up), nsfw content (blowjob, fear kink, JPM is a sadistic voyeur). It's essentially pretty fluffy. Dark&sexual content ahead!
Credit for a lot of ideas to the darling @nahoyasboyfriend (check her acc out or else🔫)
James who is illiterate when it comes to technology, and completely unwilling to learn. You, his modern lover, however, have taken the initiative in making him learn. Of course you can't just show him a smartphone app, as that might scare him away. But the hotel is already full of ancient TVs, so why not start with that? James was not fond of the machines, as the Simpsons or Supersize vs Superskinny were not in his preferred repertoire, so you had to go and buy a variety of VHS tapes for you two to watch.
Of course you start with the classics - a ton of 1920s movies to help ease him into it, then a bunch of classics like Gentlemen prefer blondes or Breakfast at Tiffany's. He enjoys the movie nights you have planned for the two of you - he likes the wine, the sliver of human interaction he so misses, and the glow of the TV reflecting on your face. Seeing how the art of film changes is a nice bonus, he is an intelligent man after all, he can appreciate the evolution of the 10th muse.
After a while, you have the idea to show him a different type of movie; classic horror. He seems to like Psycho or The Shining, but not as much as the romance movies... you thought about showing him more scary and gorey films, such as Saw or Hostel, but you figured he'd get quite bored and disgusted by them. He was a killer himself, those films wouldn't entertain him one bit! The fake blood would seem ridiculous to a man as... experienced as him for sure. You figured he needed the real thing... real blood, real tortured screams, real open flesh!
After digging for a while, you found some real snuff tapes in some obscure horror (gore porn) VHS shop. Nasty, it seemed. All untitled, in black boxes, and you had asked the seller to play a bit of it before buying to check if it was real. And, as someone who dated a serial killer and practicslly lived in a murder hotel, you could tell the recordings were very real. Oh, he would love to see them, you thought. Anything for him! Even illegal murder and torture footage🥰
His pants felt awfully tight at the way she screamed and thrashed. He was an impatient killer, but he always had a fantasy of torturing his victims for hours on end. He rarely had such a privilege, though, as the adrenaline rush was too much of a temptation to really delay taking his victims' lives. He loved to see it on a screen, though. Watching the torment before the woman was shot felt like edging too him.
You expected him to watch the footage with you and tell you about some particularly memorable murder, as talking about it was one of his favourite pastimes. But instead, he just watched one entire tape (about half an hour long, of a woman being slowly tortured with various methods) with a completely straight face, not looking away for a moment.
"Replay it and... yes, here. Kneel, darling, I need you to do something very specific.", he said in a dominant tone, that syrupy voice of his dripping with lust and determination. You obeyed instantly, overjoyed that he seems to really like your gift.
He made you take him in your hands and jerk him - slowly, teasingly, making him groan in desperation. Then he gestured for you to take him in your mouth. You warmed his hard cock, salivating over it, watching as the light from the screen reflected in his wide eyes as he took in the gory scenes before him. He paid you no mind, thrusting up occasionally and making you gag in surprise. You realized he was edging himself to the girl's suffering. The thought of his debauchery was enough to make you wet, and his stiff cock down your throat definitely helped, too.
You knew the footage was ending soon, because he started thrusting into your tight throat aggressively, holding the back of your head and grunting obscenely with every hip movement. The sound of a drill piercing flesh and the woman screaming was blurred out by the noise your pretty little mouth made; all the gags and slurps. Once you heard the gunshot, you felt him finish in your throat. He whined loudly, eyes glued to the screen, as he didn't want to miss anything of the disgusting scene before him. You swallowed all he had to give, like a good darling, and you panted for air clinging to his leg. He really just took you to the sight of a snuff film; it was like porn to him... you were astounded, but positively surprised, because the warmth of his cum in your mouth and the chill of fear from watching the tape made you feel woozy. He pulled you up, so you were kneeling between his legs, hugging his torso, his hands loose around your upper back. He held you so protectively you couldn't believe the disgusting act you just witnessed. Oh, you were so perfect for him!
There were still a few tapes left...
Not tagging anyone bcs I'm ashamed of myself sorry babes! I didn't forget abt you.
A dom who’s so gentle and sweet, smiling and humming as they carefully brush your hair out of your face… so they can get a clean hit when the first slap lands
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・741 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive themes so mdni / author's note・inspired by our beautiful boy's bbl texts about the nylon shoot. he is so loved. i hope he knows it ♡
𝟬𝟵:𝟬𝟵 — Chan is nervous.
He doesn’t say so out loud. He doesn’t say anything out loud, actually, simply appearing in the kitchen to pluck a slice of toast off the counter. Damp curls dripping into the towel slung around his neck, brushing against your cheek when he leaves a good morning kiss there.
But there’s a squareness in his shoulders. A muted glaze over the brown of his eyes and a tightness in the smile he gives you as he pulls away. The images linger in your vision after he disappears back down the hallway, presumably to get ready for the big day ahead.
Words. There are times when they embrace Chan like orchestral musicians awaiting their conductor’s cue, like sunflowers swiveling eastward in the halcyon morning—but there are other times when they haunt him, like the faceless sea of spectators instead of the hopeful performers, like the shadows that comprise the fathomless night rather than the rays of sun that follow.
You rise out of your seat, a quiet sigh leaving your lips. Chan needs the sun, today.
Inside your bedroom, Chan’s towel sits atop your duvet, right beside the white material of the T-shirt he slept in. The bathroom door is ajar and spilling yellow light onto the hardwood. You nudge it open further.
Free to roam after the towel’s removal, transparent waterdrops pave silvery trails down the sides of Chan’s neck, over the gentle incline of his collarbones and the naked hills of his chest. His palms are pressed flat on either side of the sink, his eyes glued to the mirror before him, his jaw set as squarely in his reflection as it is on his person.
He jumps when your reflection joins his. Parts his lips, prepares to speak. But his whole vernacular evaporates when your hands find his waist, when your breath hits the nape of his neck.
“Baby,” he breathes.
There’s a question embedded in the word. The only answer you give him is the quiet drag of your fingertips down the center of his back. He expels an involuntary shudder, and with it the muscles beneath your touch shift like fields of marigolds tousled by a kindred breeze.
You kiss the highest ridge of his spine, letting your lips linger against the smooth skin for a few moments before doing the same, just below his ear.
“What—” He pauses, swallows. “What are you doing, angel?”
When your hands return to his hips, they request something this time. He complies, lets you turn him around, his lower back meeting the marble with a soft bump.
You bring yourself close to him. Close enough to gauge his blushing cheeks and trembling breath and brown, brown eyes, crossed from trying to look at you. Close enough that you only need slightly dip your head to mould your lips to the hollow right under his jaw.
He moans, the sound melodic and low and quickly muffled by the lower lip he bites down upon. You suck lightly, careful not to leave a mark yet entirely fine with the alternative, then graze your teeth over the tender skin, pull away. You don’t go far, though, as your next destination is his Adam’s apple, which you reach not by boat or by plane but by short, wet kisses that resound in the silent bathroom, that draw from Chan’s throat another gorgeous whine.
As you progress in this fashion, traipsing across the plane of his clavicle, the valley of his pectorals, you want to tell him that he’s beautiful.
He’s beautiful when he laughs so hard that his smile turns boxy and his voice gets all squeaky. He’s beautiful when he’s trying not to cry and his eyes look like mirror pools because he’s failing. He’s beautiful in front of the cameras; he’s beautiful away from them. He’s beautiful always, your Chan, your Chris.
That is what you want to tell him.
But you don’t. Not even when his back hits the mattress moments later and he looks like your every wildest dream come to life underneath you: pupils blown so wide that they’ve swallowed his irises, lips glistening and quivering and inconceivably kissable as he sighs your name, chiseled upper body rippling when he props himself up on his elbows. Straining to look at you as you lower your mouth to his navel, undo the knot of his sweatpants with a gentle tug.
You’ll show him instead.
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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡
HELLO-
More Penelope art that I'm cooking 🙏
WIP(rendering process)