Mommy March continues with Yor.

Full and Spicy versions are on Paidtreon as always.

Hoppy Easter

The last spoiler, the white monarch machine mommy herself! Elesh Norn!

I do have some important characters on the module, but the praetors couldn't be missing of course! And they all have the similar pattern:

A statblock beefy enough that any of them on their own could be the BBEG of a campaign

A set of permanent regional effects on their layer of phyrexia

A minion that can be heavily customized with a set of abilities for you to use

Elesh Norn in particular was the first one I made, and the one I am most proud of. And here you have her! Hope you enjoy using her as the Big Bad Evil Guy of your campaign.

Now go play MtG too!

And Check Plane Shift: New Phyrexia on my patreon! Click here!

hiii, could I request “how the evans would ask/react to roadhead”? ty!

coming right up.

Taglist: @kitwalkersgfff, @ppawmpkin, @yes-divine-ruler, @quicksilversg1rl, @charsdunkie lmk if you would like to be added or removed my dears.

Warnings: isnt it obvious that its just flat out nsfw?

How the Evans, ask, and react, to the reader giving them road head.

Tate Langdon:

How he asks: It would start out as a joke, like he'd be singing a song that you'd call ass, and he would glare at you and reply with something along the lines of "suck my dick" because he's a sassy bitch. And you'd be like "We're in a damn car" just continuing with the joke but then he'd use one hand to unbutton and unzip his pants before saying something stupid like, "So? You shouldn't starve yourself."

How he reacts: He whines, grips your hair, and forces you down even more, yeah, all that good stuff. But I also feel like he'd run some red lights and even stop signs, whilst stopping at green lights, he would possibly even almost crash. So :/. The first-time you guys tried it was also the last time because you didn't want to die giving him head in a fucking car.

Kit Walker:

How he asks: He doesn't, it wasn't his idea. It was just a long ride, and he was tired, so you decided to get his blood flowing by giving him head. He'd instinctively ask what the literal fuck you were doing, and you'd be like "Keeping you awake." No more questions would be asked; However, he would want to pull over, but you'd tell him no.

How he'd react: Sketchy as fuck. Like he'd be looking around all scared that anyone would see you guys, even if you were driving. Would take time at red lights to either grip your hair or even place a hand on your boobs. He would offer once again to pull over and you hum nos against his dick driving him absolutely insane. As he's about to cum he pulls you up, and either you're at your destination or in some alley, he fucks you in the backseat. However, if you are at you r house for the destination, he fucks you in your guy's bed.

Kyle Spencer (pre-death)

How he asks: He seen it in a porn video and wanted to try one day. He was absolutely horny and couldn't do anything while driving so he kind of hinted at the idea, not fully asking. Something much like, "Hey babe my friend sent me this video... well the dude was getting something called 'road head'", he sucked at trying to drop hints, because he sounded lowkey desperate. "Okay and?" you'd reply forcing him to ask. "Can we try it? I mean if you don't want to, we don't have t-" He'd be stopped because you were already pulling his dick out of his pants.

How he reacts: He swears up and down he looked so fucking cool. He didn't. He was a whiney baby, and when he was going to cum, he had to pull over. Which he would kiss you, you'd crawl into his lap and boom. You guys are having sex in a damn Mc Donalds parking lot. Hope you're proud of yourselves.

Jimmy Darling:

How he'd ask: You'd beg him to drive your car, since it was too cold, and he said only if you'd give him head while he drove. Which you did because why not.

How he'd react: Praise, degrade, degrade and praise again and again in that order. "Fuck, you're so good with your little mouth." and then, "Fuck you're such a whore for me hm?", and then my favorite, "Such a good mouth on a slut. I fucking love you." In the end yall would make out and he'd drive you to where you needed to go after car sex, when your done with your business, more car sex. When you get to camp sex in the caravan. SEX, SEX, SEX, that's how road head goes with our darling boy Jimmy Neutron.

I will do part two with Kai, James, Alex, and Peter tmr guys im tired :/

tell me who you picked and why in the comments!

Mythos March - Day 7: Apollo & Artemis

@samssims

poses by @elliemaysims @superjjkitten Thanks to all cc creators @a3ru @elliemaysims  @Ladesire  @mimoto-sims @madlensims @pyxiidis @pralinesims @redheadsims-cc @simstrouble  @superjjkitten  @ts4eve

Is it too late to request mafia prompt?

It was not too late! I got nostalgic about No New Friends this weekend, so let's drop in on that universe.

“Ma!” Cristina Rizzoli calls out to Jane from about twenty yards away, marching toward Jane’s perch on a stone wall not far from the beach. She pulls Cicciu along, and he buries his nose in a map as his sandals scrape the sand under them. “Ma!”

“What! What,” Jane asks neither time, but softens her demand when Cristina gets up close, flush with exhilaration and the sun. To see her children in the Sicilian summer fills her with both accomplishment and pride.

“Can we go take some pictures over there while we wait for Mommy?” Cristina begs before Jane ever says no, such that Jane can’t. 

Jane turns, seabreeze sweeping through her hair when she makes a show of scoping the area. “Sure,” she says finally. She sighs, dropping her shoulders just to get a rise out of her daughter. The bait is taken, because Cristina stamps her sixteen-year old foot with all her might. Jane chuckles lowly. “Just stick, together, a’right? And stay where I can see you. I’m gonna try and wrangle Mommy so we can all enjoy the water.”

“Oh, thank you,” Cristina squeezes Jane, her camera bulky between them. “Thank you, thank you. We’ll be right over there!”

“Yeah, yeah, go. Practice your Italian!” Jane yells after her children, who wave her off.

She turns her attention to the street market just across the way from where she stands. People peddle seafood, fresh produce, and baked goods that she knows she’s going to eat entirely too much of during this trip. There are men selling juicing tools for citrus, there are women in front of booths full of takeaway pasta, there are fishmongers tossing their catches from a cooler to a bed of ice, and yet, Jane’s concern is only the woman in the white sundress handing a euro bill to a boy who gives her wrapped up cheese in return.

Jane can wait no longer. She approaches. “Scusi, signura,” she says in that natural, liquid Sicilian she has, “parra sicilianu?” Excuse me, ma’am, do you speak Sicilian?

The woman places the cheese in her cloth bag and turns, her honey hair wavy under her summer hat. When she turns, she smiles in a way only Jane has made her for the last seventeen years. “No, ma capisciu si parra chiù lentamenti,” she hedges. No, but I’ll understand if you speak more slowly.

Somehow, Maura’s recognition of the ruse and her willingness to play along turns Jane’s joke into a fire in her belly. Jane sticks her hands in her pants’ pockets and steps closer. They share air. “Hmm, beni, mi po’ diri comu si va a Taormina…?” Just as Maura is about to kiss her, Jane deepens the roleplay and breaks their stare so she can pull her own map out of her satchel, one identical to their son’s. She opens it up, and they both move to the side so an old woman can buy her own cheese. Well, can you tell me how to get to Taormina?

Maura pulls the top of the map toward her between two fingertips. “Ah. Devi turnar indetru,” she trails down the coast to Taormina, tapping her fingertip toward it, and then up Jane’s chest until she strokes Jane’s chin. You have to go back.

“Ah, minchia,” Jane shudders. The curse rattles out of her lips in a whisper and her face flushes. She regrets foregoing Maura’s kiss, leans in herself this time. Well shit.

Maura doesn’t pull away. She stops Jane just before they come together. “Si ti po’ jiri in machina?” she asks, but Jane is already in motion. Can I drive you?

Their tongues slip against one another, and Jane puts all that precious height, that familiar body weight, into it. When she opens her eyes, Maura’s crow’s feet are close and Jane wants to fly. “You sure seem to know a lot of Sicilian to me. And do you routinely offer strangers rides?” she teases just so that she stays put on the ground. 

“Are you a stranger? You don’t taste like one,” Maura growls, bringing the kiss back. Their lips smack a trio of times when Maura weaves her free hand into the hair on the back of Jane’s head. “Although you do taste different.”

“All the Sicilian oranges?” Jane offers with a smirk. “Or the coffee.”

“The power,” Maura corrects her. She looks down to where their hips meet. “The honor. A made man is stronger on the tongue. Now let’s go get the children before they wander off.”

Sometimes I question my bisexuality because I get crushes on men most of the time. But every time Alexandra Cabot comes along she proves that I can like women just as much as men. She is a goddess.

3/25/24 – “Ever after”

From this point on – what does that look like for me? At twenty-seven, seventy-seven days to twenty-eight it looks really simple. Financial stability, a man who loves me through action, and two healthy children, preferably two girls. Unfortunately, under late capitalism that is asking for a lot. I could move to middle America and call it a wrap, but my family and community are here. The California lemon drop of a sun is here and nowhere else.

I suppose at twenty-three I was okay with moving to the Midwest, to a much cheaper part of the country and living with my envisioned fiancé and his palm-colored family that might not like me at first, but they’d love me eventually. Needless to say, that didn’t work as I hoped. They were God fearing and I had a healthy fear of religion. I did see an ever after though, as much as it may embarrass me now. A life in a nice big house with no backyard fences and endless street parties. My little girls would have ribbons in their hair, and we’d go to church with their daddy and if they ever expressed that they weren’t certain on how they felt about God, I’d tell them that it was okay. That their mommy had an ill relationship with that man since she was five years old. With that fantasy coming in and out of my mind I finally decided that I didn’t really love him. He was a youth leader at his church, and I dressed up as the devil as often as I could. What I did love was the thought of being far from my mother and snatching someone everyone thought was desirable – including my mother. Well except for me, when I really looked at him, he made me angry.

Between the ages of twenty and twenty-two ever after was becoming a very successful writer, maybe an installation artist, I’d so charismatic that I’d make friends everywhere I went and someone would eventually ask me to star in their indie film. The movie would do better than expected and I’d be nominated for an Oscar. I wouldn’t win, one of the many seasoned actresses would take the little gold man home, but goodness! What a milestone just to be nominated. Then I’d get really drunk at one of the after parties, not yellow pole drunk or dry humping drunk, just drunk enough to be dancing on the floor. Someone would insist we did karaoke and I’d be invited to the mic. Then bam! Music career. I’d never be rich – I haven’t believed in being rich for some time now – but I’d be well off. I’d donate to charities and eventually settle down with someone. We’d have two little girls and live in the California mountains.

At eighteen after my first major heartbreak and several overdoses I thought ever after would be living in a shack sized house by the beach with nothing but some tattered clothes and my laptop to write. I’d wake up every morning, smoke a cigarette and enjoy a cup of coffee. I’d walk around, have small talk with the people in the community. If the weather permitted, I’d take a dip into the ocean and think about how lovely and empty the universe really is. Then I’d grab something from the cheapest eatery – not my favorite, just the cheapest – and I’d speak to the owner. We’d be really good friends, but they wouldn’t know that I got food poisoning from their shop three times in the last year. I’d go home, have an evening glass of coffee because I am Salvadorian at the end of the day and have one last cigarette. (I more than likely had five while I was out.) I’d write on a piece of scrap paper to get more cigarettes and to call Taylor back. Taylor would be one of the many men I was having a love affair with. In this scenario I wasn’t sure what kind of writer I’d be, just that I’d be one and I’d have enough money to live in a shack sized house by the beach.

I realized that I had an unhealthy desire to be something no one could catch but would dream of constantly. That was simply because I had been heartbroken, and I wanted to break anything that slightly resembled a heart.

I suppose ultimately ever after still looks the same. Stability, love, and two children that can be of any gender as long as they have their health. To be able to stay close to my family and friends. To not die wishing for more and being very appreciative of everything I got. To be happy.

happy 9th birthday to...

Life Rips by Mommy Long Legs!!

tracklist: life rips - slumber party - horroscope - sorority girls - yuppie moms - sad dudes - role play

AWWWWW my mom and i just saw a little ducklet walking in the street (residential area) and we were like aww what the heck! and then we saw mama duck and the other babies and we were like aww little guy get out the street your mommy and siblings are over there on the grass. but he walked back over the street and then when he came back into view he was being followed by an even littler ducklet 🥹 he went back to get his baby sister 😭🥺

i need everyone to do the hsr kinnie quiz that jude sent me a while back and tell me who you get

"I know," her son said, stricken. "I've made a botch of everything but the battles, haven't I? I thought the battles would be the hard part, but . . .

Hsr drawings i made in school

So I just realized something...my daughter is getting stabbed on Wednesday (vaccines at her annual checkup). But I seriously made her appointment on the Ides of March...

Don't try and interfere with your own mom and her mother.

It is hard imagining your own parent as a child just wanting their parent to love them back.