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#this has been three am thoughts

changeling-droneco · 5 months

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Where does, and I mean this as a compliment, the most fuckable twink I've ever seen in my life get off on telling me how to manage my T level? Is he speaking from experience?! -Hbomberguy, bisexual icon

#HOLY SHIT DUDE #YOU CANT JUST KILL A MAN IN A YOUTUBE VIDEO LIKE THIS #hbomberguy #this has been three am thoughts

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ultimateplaylistmaker · 26 days

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We did good everybody

#boop #boop-o-meter #this has been three am thoughts

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underwaterbanshee · 6 months

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I am obsessed with Tula. The last five minutes of tonight's episode just cemented for me that everything about her comes down to the fact she never got to mourn Geoffrey.

Even if she did bust a cap in him. Even if he did have it coming. She never was allowed to let him go.

She went from being annoyed and concerned about her husband's dangerous behavior regarding the Blue and monsters to becoming a single mother of two children and living entirely for them--

--just as her sister meets and marries a man who is a lot like Geoffrey.

It's so clear that Tula wants Thorn to be nothing like Geoffrey for Viola. Hearing that he completely supports Viola's ambitions has to just eat her up with jealousy and grief.

This family is so fucking good at saying things without saying them and Viola does not want to be trapped the way she thinks Tula is trapped.

And her mom is trying to get her to marry again? Every male stoat Ava points out to Tula is just another pale image of Geoffrey. Even Bennett. Especially Bennett.

Of course Tula fundamentally lies to her children. It's constant. Everything is so focused on making sure they are physically and emotionally safe.

So what's going to happen when Lila can finally see that the mother she trusts so much is hiding something fundamental? And will she forgive her?

#burrow's end #burrow's end spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #this is how i meta #also I've been thinking this for three episodes now #the hardest thing about writing thoughts for ttrps #is knowing that everything can change so quickly #it's beautifully unpredictable #but this season has already been a gift #i am excite for every stoat #and god i have feels about sybil #i love her so much

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dreamerdeity · 8 months

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ONE OF YOUR GIRLS

Warnings/ Notes Suguru Geto x afab reader. 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI. Lots of choking, fingering, undertones of degradation, unestablished relationship, porn without plot, mentions of guilt tripping, power imbalance. Let me know if I missed anything!! Please don't report my work. If you would rather not read, then just don't!! Reblogs appreciated! Synopsis You have a massive thing for Suguru's arms, so he chokes you with them...upon your request.

NSFW under the cut

Suguru is mean, sure, but don't you get the wrong idea, because he swears up and down it's your fault every single time. How glassy tears cascade down your face so damn cutely, pretty neck bruises up in his grip so gorgeously, and if the only way he can get to see you that fucked out and vulnerable before his eyes is to treat you like a bitch, he'd do it over and over again with not an ounce of remorse.

He sits you on his lap, back pressed against his taut chest while you pointlessly babble and squirm from dizzying overstimulation, your thighs involuntarily caging his wrist between them as they close in on themselves. But d'you forget already? Suguru's not much of a gracious man, there's no other way to put it really, and you'd be dumb to ever think otherwise, because just as your bottom lip juts out in desperation, a broken "S'too much, Sugu" leaving your parted mouth, your tears threatening to spill past your lashes, he grins sleazily, and you've seen that grin a handful; The embodiment of the power trip he basks in whenever you're around. Got you wrapped around his finger and he knows. Got you under control. "Stay still, pretty." He whispers against your crimson-blooming neck and it almost sounds tender, but the validity of such wishful thought is quickly thrown aside when he forcefully spreads your legs open once more, a thumb playing with your clit, deftly curled fingers scissoring and pistoning into your soaking cunt.

Suguru's eyes never leave your pretty reflection adorning the full length mirror across the two of you, raking you up and down with not a slither of shame, because surely you were used to it by now, weren't you? All his to devour whenever he pleased, the one girl he'd always find his way back to when his patience threatened to wane, whose apartment he'd drag his feet into, head hanging low in tribulation waiting for you to save him in the one way you knew best, to melt away all that weighed heavily on his heart like the good girl you always were. And just as you trail your gaze upward, you find yourself shrinking back in embarrassment from his brazen stare, burying your face in your shoulder when his piercing eyes meet your own through the looking glass, but nothing's ever easy when Suguru is around, is it? Ever so perceptive, he doesn't hesitate to grab your cheeks between his thumb and index, harshly yanking your face back up to meet his gaze with a chastising "tsk". "I like seeing you like this y'know." He breathes out, gruff voice sending jolts up your spine as he languidly strokes your jaw with the pad of his thumb. "D'you like it too, hm? Look at your face, baby. Up there." He animatedly points toward the mirror as though speaking to a child, infantilizing you as he so often does. "That's it, dont be shy." The soft, honeyed timbre of his voice confuses you, the entirety of his persona rendering him a walking oxymoron; So charming yet so crude; So tender yet so rough; So playful yet so stern. Despite all of it, you never question it when he babies you right after degrading the living shit out of you, a welcome surprise of sorts that leaves you giddy for the rest of the night.

Though the babying does not last long, the man under you swiftly moving his hand away from your face and roughly hooking an arm around your neck with a click of his tongue, your chin snuggly tucked under the bend of his arm, bicep pressing against your cheek. A favorable position you supposed, maybe more so for him than you, because when he feels the hot pulse of your neck against him, something momentarily flashes in his eyes and he grins wide. "Mm, can't handle it all, Sugu pleaseee." You turn and whine into the crook of his neck, straining to speak as much as you were to move your head. His thick arm had an impossibly tight hold around your throat rendering you as good as paralyzed. Though you'd lately devised a clever plot of sorts; Guilt tripping him with that ever so sweet lilt of your voice, those tears spilling past your fluttery eyes, because at the end of the day, you realized, you had him as wrapped around your finger as he did, even if you knew hell might as well freeze over before he admitted such—in his own words—nonsense. But sometimes your clever plot works, sometimes it doesn't.

Depending on his mood.

The heavens must not be on your side lately, because tonight it did not, and he clicks his tongue at your dramatics, eyebrows furrowed and clearly unamused by your apparent change of heart. "But you asked for it, didn't you?" He lets out a chiding huff and asks, not really expecting an answer, just your sweet surrender. In a sense, he was right; As comical as it may sound, you had watched him unload his groceries earlier that morning and couldn't help but lock your gaze upon his arms. The way his biceps flexed every time he effortlessly tugged a heavy bag out of the trunk, or the visible recoil of those same biceps when he put the bags down, or the pretty dents and veins blooming along his well-built forearms when the sunlight hit just right. Not even the most strong-willed woman on earth would have been able to get her mind out of the gutter under such extreme circumstances, or so you liked to think. In short, you had shamelessly asked him to choke you with his arms.

And who was he to deny his pretty girl's request? He was never stingy with the pleasure he gave you, especially when it's one you proactively asked for, with those wet lashes fluttering up at him as you request a million ways of him to ruin you. As if on cue, just as you attempt to let out a half-muttered response to his earlier question, his arm presses harder against your throat and shuts you up for good—before you could even speak, as if to taunt you, goad you into a state of frustration simply because he liked to push your buttons like that. He continues to work your cunt as his free arm rhythmically squeezes and releases around your throat, your vision going blurry, eyes slipping closed as you helplessly claw at his bicep to let you breathe. Though your ministrations felt like nothing but a feather light touch to the strong man handling your form.

"Ahh! Cute" Suguru positively coos, giggling at your struggle, seemingly finding it amusing, or perhaps relishing in your messed up state like the sadistic bastard he was. "Sugu, hhmmgh" you let out a shrill whimper, if you could call it that, torn between the pain engulfing your neck and the pleasure prodding at your cunt. Suguru examines you closely through the mirror and his giggles die in his throat as fast as they came when he zeros in on your weary expression, much to your confusion. His face falls into a frown. Wasn't he all giddy and jovial just now? He nudges your cheek before trailing his eyes up toward your reflection once more.

"Why're you so quiet all of a sudden, baby? Am I not doing a good job?" He asks with feigned hurt etched into his sharp features, voice laced with faux offense. You catch his pout in the mirror and scramble to tell him that wasn't it at all. Was he serious? You're practically choking in his grasp and he has the nerve to spew such absurdities. You were in fact enjoying this more than you'd like to admit but you couldn't speak. and he knew this. Of course he did, because actions sure spoke louder than words; He could see your eyes flutter shut in pleasure, your warm arousal trickle down his wrist every time he squeezed harder, harder around your neck.

You opt for aggressively shaking your head to the best of your ability within the tight confines of his hold. "Yes or no?" He banters, clearly teasing, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, struggling to hold back his amusement at your newfound muteness. "Y-you're doing well." You choke out finally. "Ah! See? That was easy." He doesn't give you time to retort, picking up the pace of his fingers, scissoring them rhythmically as his thumb abuses rough circles onto your wet clit. "Now give me what I want." He groans against your face, breath fanning against your ear, tongue running sloppy trails down your jaw, and all the simultaneous sensations he was giving you were mind-numbingly overwhelming. With just another jerk of his fingers within you, clit rubbing against his palm, you find yourself falling boneless in his arms, unraveling right before his sharp eyes as they so intently watch your face contort in pleasure through the mirror.

"Mmph fuck!" You gasp in your stupor, gripping the wrist of his hand that was still diligently fucking you through your high, spasming and thrashing in his embrace, your free hand winding around his bicep that engulfed your neck, squeezing and clawing like a bitch in heat.

"That's it, I got you babe." Suguru soothes you softly, tone so different, so tender, bringing his long fingers up to your mouth and tapping them on your lips once you regain your composure, a sheen of sweat coating your forehead and chest still heaving sporadically. You know what he wants you to do, and you obediently wrap your lips around them, tasting yourself on him. "Mhm, just like that" He hums with a lazy smile, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, half-grin gracing your lips in a sudden fit of post-sex giddiness, but just as you begin to shuffle out of his lap, you halt in your steps, him grabbing you back down by the hips, lips brushing against your earlobe. "Oh 'm not done with you just yet."

Right. When is he ever?

#getou suguru x reader #jjk x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk smut #I am infatuated with this man he has been consuming my every thought for the past three years help me

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ghouljams · 9 months

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I do love the mental image you supplied of Price being out there with a broom trying to shoo the Mimic away, like-

Price: Get out of here, shoo!

Mimic: :((

Price: No! Go find another witch to snack on! *whacks*

Mimic: :(((((

You watch from your window as Price leaves your garden. The not-moose moves from one side of the wall towards Price. You aren't sure why that makes your stomach twist. You grip your chest, twisting your shirt in your hand, feeling that warm magic buzz at the tips of your finger again. Price can take care of himself, you're sure of it.

Price feels his tethers pull tight as the mimic walks towards him. The overgrown beast doesn't even have the common courtesy to pretend to be a regular animal. It stares right at him, it's eyes moving in different directions as it attempts to keep its focus on you as well as the new threat. Price cracks his knuckles, moves towards the mimic with the same predatory intent that it had been.

"Fuck off," Price advises the mimic, "kindly."

The mimic stops, shakes it's head. It's lips pull back in what Price is sure is supposed to be a terrifying display. He will admit that the noise it makes is downright unsettling, the sobbing wail that seems to broadcast from the mimic. It's face doesn't move at all, the sound just shakes out of it. Price raises a brow.

"You don't look starving."

Another wail from the mimic, the moose turns and butts its horns against the threshold. The twist of horn against your wards makes even Price grimace. It unhinges its jaw to press the full extent of its teeth against the garden's barrier. Price growls, leaning to reach over the wall to grab your watering can.

The iron burns.

Price twitches, his jaw clenched as his head pulls to one side. The unnatural sting of metal against his skin is almost as unpleasant as the scream the mimic lets out upon seeing it. The glassy eyes of it roll to look at him, it slides its teeth off the threshold like dragging knives through molasses. It gives another wail, almost bargaining. Price weighs the sentiment against the iron in his grasp before swinging the can hard at the mimic.

The creature flinches, stumbling back away from him. It drops its head low, menacing. Price doesn't move except to raise his free hand and make a shoo-ing motion.

"If you're not going to leave on your own I have no qualms makin' you."

The mimics eyes roll between Price and the house. It's lips curl, tongue lolling out over its razor sharp teeth. The menacing posturing doesn't let up, in fact the mimic almost seems to be challenging that assertion.

"Price," it sobs in your voice. Price's eyes narrow, his grip on the iron watering can tightening. The burn of it bites into his flesh.

"Now you're tryin' to make me mad." He growls, the mimic takes a half step back, "I'm tryin' to be civil, bet you can't even remember that part of yourself."

A step forward, the mimic attempts another show of aggression only to be caught by the swing of cold iron. The metal scrapes fur and flesh from its muzzle, oily blood sloughing off it into the snow before it can pull its skin back together. It scrambles back away from Price, away from your property. The mimic tries another sobbing voice, aiming for sympathy over threats. Isn't it pathetic? Cursed with only might and the decaying sense it once had as a human. If it could just get enough magic...

"Then find another witch to snack on, this one's mine." Though Price imagines any witch it finds will yield the exact same results. Well, maybe not exactly the same. He can't think of a single other fae that would- That would be eager to help? Have the tethers to be called on? The conviction to grab Iron in defense of their- of a witch. God help him this is getting out of hand.

The mimic seems to ponder this for a moment. It's neck twisting its head one way then another, its horns scraping the snowy ground as it does. It lets out an agreeable is terrified scream, before turning and making its way back into the thicket of trees. Price watches it go for a moment before tossing the watering can back towards the fence with a pained swear.

He grips his wrist, staring at the consumed flesh, the sinew revealed by the acidic burn of the iron. His fingers clench and shake, the muscles pulled tight with pain. Behind him the house door opens and closes, the iron back gate creaks, the sound of rapid footsteps through snow reaches him. He turns in time for you to throw your arms around him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," You squeeze your arms tightly around his shoulders. Price wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you more securely against his chest. You pull away too quickly to cup his face graciously, briefly, between your hands. He can feel his tethers singing for you as you leave his hold, eager to have you close again. His fingers still drag along your waist, reluctant to stop touching you as you turn to grab his injured hand.

Your fingers are so gentle as they graze the outer edges of the wound. Your expression pained, it makes him want to rip his hand from your hold. Instead he lets you finish your exam, his fingers tightening on your waist when you prod a little too hard. You mumble a quiet apology and release his hand, crouching to pick up a handful of snow.

"This might feel a little strange," You tell him, without actually telling him what exactly it is that's going to feel strange. You press the snow against his hand, careful to spread the ice down his fingers as well. Sort of weird that you'd think he'd never iced a burn before.

You lean over his hand, your face close to the snow, close enough he can feel the brush of your breath as you exhale. Then your lips move, and he feels it. The soft shift of the wind, the ringing in his ears, the lacing of his skin knitting back together under rapidly melting ice, the magic that races up his arm and circulates through his heart like a shot of ecstasy. Your grip on his wrist is far flung from the light touches it was, and he sees why now.

Your magic makes him want to jerk away, an involuntary reaction that he tries to steady as soon as it happens. It's hot and molten, it rustles past his ears like a sea breeze, and it is a foreign body invading his own. Price's pulse races, instinct keyed to the highest settings, and you are mouthwatering. All potential power and pretty packaging. He brushes your hair off your neck with his uninjured hand. You're so trusting. He can feel the itch in his teeth, and smell blood.

Price grips your shoulder hard enough to bruise, and leans down to press his teeth to your neck. He can feel your pulse rushing under his tongue, smell your scent under all those lovely herbs. You drop his hand and he's quick to thread it through your hair, to hold your neck long for his consumption. There's no pain, and the tethers between you are so brilliantly warm. No pain. Price blinks. The ringing is gone, the sea breeze gone, you're not holding his hand. You're finished.

He pull back, looks at how you've squeezed your eyes shut, lips thin with fear. That's not right. Fuck.

"Fuck," Price clears his throat, it feels like he hasn't had anything to drink in days, "I'm not gonna hurt you, that's-" He takes his hands off you, as a show of sincerity. Tension bleeds out of you as you open your eyes.

"I told you, it'll feel weird." You tell him, turning quickly to go and grab your watering can. Weird is not how he'd describe it, nor is that how he would've warned about it. But it's done now.

"That was real magic," Price swallows, flexes his fingers now miraculously, magically, healed. You don't miss a step in your quick pace back to your garden.

"It's all real magic," You call over your shoulder, "I just didn't use a buffer this time."

You only turn to look at him when you're closing your garden gate, your smile a little shy and your cheeks pink. You mouth a last 'thank you' and disappear into your house. It's strange. There should be a new tether between you, something solid, something the weight of unfiltered magical expertise, but there's nothing. Even done out of just the kindness of your heart he should have some evidence that you'd done him a service, nobody gives themselves that freely. Even those that do, a recipient would never accept such a gift without a debt; save maybe the few foolish enough to think they're in love.

Fuck.

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lagosbratzdoll · 19 days

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This is a very very unfinished thought but I've been thinking a lot as I reread the books about how the women of House of the Dragon don't really get catharsis and how that'll likely be worse in S2. Say what you want about asoiaf but a number of named women there experience catharsis.

They kill their abusers (Lysa, Cersei, Dany). They regain some agency after a violation (Lysa, Cersei, Lady Stoneheart, Dany), and they refuse to forgive the people complicit in their subjugation (Lysa, Cersei, Dany, Lady Stoneheart, Jeyne Westerling).

Obviously, three or four isn't enough in such an expansive cast of characters but the point remains that they claw back their autonomy however they have to. They're allowed to be angry, bitter, unforgiving and cruel to their abusers in a way women in House of the Dragon just aren't allowed. They're allowed grief, grief that is violent and destructive.

The women of House of the Dragon don't get angry. They stand around and stare plaintively at the camera, they cry prettily, and they plead for peace and non-violence. They suffer and suffer and suffer and there's no relief.

#although dany doesn't really set out to kill her abuser #in fact she doesn't really think of him as her abuser #but the fact remains that her story begins with his death #she gains her dragons and agency through his death #lysa murdering jon arryn #lysa not going to riverrun when hoster is on his deathbed despite cat's letters #she denies him relief for his crimes against her and it's one of my favourite moments in asoiaf #cersei killing robert #cersei eating robert's children taking back reproductive autonomy from the man that hurt her #lady stoneheart turning her grief and pain onto the riverlands #she hangs freys boltons and lannisters uncaringly #it's a failing of the storytelling because this is supposed to be the feminist retelling of the dance #but instead the misogyny that leads up to the dance has been defanged.#the point of the show has been obscured behind endless arguments of the supposed illegitimacy of rhaenyra's first three children #the women fighting for power have been replaced by evil men perched on their shoulders telling them to do bad things #they're helpless victims carried along by the stream of inevitability #or something idk #also i am not including alicent trying to take luke's eye and injuring rhaenyra as cathartic because they are not the cause of her sufferin #house of the dragon #not asoiaf thoughts #daenerys targaryen #lysa arryn #cersei lannister #lady stoneheart #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #helaena targaryen #rhaenys targaryen

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changeling-droneco · 29 days

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Say what you will about Hazbin Hotel but I’ve never seen a fandom decide to make a separate ship tag because a ship is REALLY FUNNY and more canon accurate if it’s specifically one-sided and kinda pathetic so they wanted to more easily find purely one-sided content of it

#radio silence #radiostatic #hazbin hotel #this has been three am thoughts #onewaybroadcast

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minecraftbookshelf · 4 months

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For MoS Au - how powerful is each empire individually and then each alliance?

Bc I understand if Fwip and Sausage r messing with Jimmy as one ruler but he has the Ocean Alliance? And from what you’ve said it seems like those kingdoms r powerhouses? Especially Lizzie and the Ocean Empire bc they seem to be good at the whole war/conquering stuffs.

Just wondering if there’s something i’m missing or if Fwip and Sausage r just unaware of that.

So I typed out a whole answer to this and then realized that a lot of it is going to be covered in the first actual fic of the series which, in a bit of good news, I'm in the process of editing the first chapter and it will be posted before the new year. (EDIT: probably not before the new year but very, very soon after)

That being said, I've saved the answer I typed, after you've read the first chapter, come back here and ask follow up questions and I can use that to answer them. Does that sound good?

(I can also just post the response if you would rather)

#ask and it shall be answered #idontevenknowhowtolife #marriage of state au #also yes surprise!#actual fic is imminent!#im so excited its been almost ayear #also the short answer is that the ocean empire is made of immortal powerhouses #but the wra has pearl and gem #which explains very little i am aware #also it would likely splinter into three factions instead of two #I have thought about this a lot over the past year 😭

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