Love This Shit - Tumblr Posts

Ghosts that should exist soon if not already

Notifications/typing noises in otherwise empty spaces

People waving you over from the side of the road and asking if you're their Lyft. Disappear the moment you look away

Abandoned warehouses that sometimes reverberate with an unheard bass

'Cold spots' where you can't get signal (that cannot be otherwise explained)

That dispensary with the blacked out windows? It used to be a Blockbuster until the manager got shot. If it's the right kind of night and you look real close and cup your hands to block out all the light? You can watch it happen, but they might see you

Newsletters from startups that no longer exist

Hype House haunted by the reason they had to make an apology video

Pictures of a stranger in your camera roll

At 2:30 every morning you can hear a ringing bell coming from the elementary school. Thing is, they switched to a digital tone in 2013. Also, it cannot be captured electronically

Welcome to Denny's what can I start you on? You already ordered? Wait.. Tall, pink hair? *sigh* Been dead for a mtonth and she's still stealing tips

The SS Warrimoo, a passenger steamship traveling from Vancouver to Australia, was silently knifing its way across the mid-Pacific waters. The navigator had just finished calculating a star fix and handed the results to Captain John DS. Phillips.

The Warrimoo's coordinates were LAT 0º 31' N, LONG 179 30' W. The date was December 31, 1899. "Know what this means?" First Mate Payton announced, "We're only a few miles from the intersection of the Equator and the International Date Line."

Captain Phillips was prankish enough to seize the opportunity to do the nautical feat of a lifetime. He summoned his navigators to the bridge to double-check the ship's position. He altered his course slightly to focus directly on his target. He then altered the engine's speed.

The calm weather and clear night worked to his advantage. At midnight, the SS Warrimoo rested on the Equator, exactly where it had crossed the International Date Line. The ramifications of this odd arrangement were numerous.

The ship's bow was in the Southern Hemisphere, in the middle of summer. The stern was in the Northern Hemisphere, in the midst of winter. The date on the aft portion of the ship was December 31, 1899. The date on the forward half of the ship was January 1, 1900. The ship experienced multiple days, months, years, seasons, and centuries simultaneously.

cecil you are so real for this one

Bread Bowl Soup

“our teeth and ambitions are bared” is a zeugma

and it’s a zeugma where one of the words is literal and one is metaphorical which is the BEST KIND

its not very swag to be transphobic

It's an it.

Content- many whumpees, one whumper, sadistic whumper, mindbreaking, trained objectification, it as a pronoun (trained), pet whump, water torture mention, shock mention, captivity, family whump (whumpees are brothers), carewhumpee, nonhuman whumpees, human whumper, foul language, humiliation, stockholm (?), refusal to escape

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Onas paced inside his cell, the enchanted chain attached to his ankle clinking behind him noisily. His hooves clicked heavily on the dirty cement floor.

'Where the fuck is my brother?' His mind roared. Logan had taken Brilom well over an hour ago. This couldn't be good. His little brother was so defenseless.

Onas looked out from the bars of his cell, a few feet out of reach from them. He could see the lightbulb flicker in the hallway, agitating his sensitive vision.

The door at the end of the hall clicked open.

Logan walked in, his smug smile bolder than ever. He had a leash in hand- smooth genuine leather. Onas' heart twisted as he saw his brother dragged in on his knees. Several gauze bandages were draped across his body, soaking up the deep red blood. Onas noticed as they got closer that Brilom was dripping with water.

"Logan," Onas snarled, tugging at the end of his chain. His stupid, unbreakable chain. He set his feirce gaze on the man, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, Onas!" Logan gushed, tugging Brilom behind him. The smaller boy struggled to keep up. "Won't you look at my pet? I think I did it!"

Onas kept his voice level and slow, his fingers twitching into fists. "Did what, Logan?"

"You know you're supposed to call me Master." Logan's eyes narrowed with anger, then melted back into their natural smugness. "My pet knows for sure~"

The cell door, just out of Onas' reach, opened and Logan led Brilom inside, unclipping the leash from his collar.

Onas' heart dropped and his mind clouded with loathing for Logan. Brilom's head was down, his wet hair a curtain hiding his face. He was silent, unmoving.

"Logan, what did you do to him?" Onas didn't try to keep the hate from his voice this time, yanking uselessly against the chain.

"I broke it! After all this training, I finally did it!" Logan grinned, nudging Brilom's flank with the tip of his boot. "Pet, sit."

"He's not just gonna-" Onas cut off, mouth still open. Brilom dropped back into a kneeling position. His back was straight and his hands gripped his thighs.

"Yes, Master." Brilom's voice was a hoarse whisper. Onas couldn't see his face with his head still bowed.

"Chin up, Pet. Show your brother how good you are." Logan grabbed a handful of Brilom's hair, tugging it back. "Tell him."

Brilom held his head high, looking right into Onas' eyes. "I'm a good pet."

"Brilom-" Onas whispered, his whole body going cold. His brother's eyes were usually hazy due to his partial blindness but this- this was different. They were hopeless now, blank of any other emotion.

"Pet, go crawl to your brother. You two can relax together." Logan flicked his hand, letting go of his hair.

Brilom dropped back to his hands and knees, crawling within Onas' reach.

Immediately, Onas dropped to his brother's level. He pulled the drenched boy against his chest, squeezing.

"Brilom..." He pressed his forehead to the back of his brother's head breifly. "You're okay. I'm never gonna let him take you again."

"Oh, I'll take it whenever I want to." Logan grinned from the doorway.

"My brother," Onas growled, "is not an it."

Logan laughed a sick, mocking laugh. "Yes it is. And it is my pet. Which means I own it and can do with it what I please."

"He is not an it! He is a living, breathing satyr. If you even think that you-"

"It's an it." Brilom's small voice said. He was crying now. Everything went still for a moment. "It is master's pet, and it'll-" Brilom took a shaky breath. "-it will do anything its master asks it to."

"Brilom, you can't mean that!" Onas cried.

His brother shook his? Its? head. Onas turned his attention to Logan, who was standing outside the cell now. The door was still wide open.

"You know he can't fight back, you sick fuck! What did you do to him?"

Logan grinned. "Oh, you wanna see? I suppose ill have you watch the tape tomorrow morning. For now, I must go." Logan glanced at the open door, then back at Onas' chain. "I'll leave the door open, I think.

Pet, you will not leave this cell until I tell you to. If I find out you did, we'll do another round of water torture, alright? We don't want that, now do we?"

"I'll stay right here, master." Brilom assured, his already weak voice wavering in fear. Onas felt the other satyr shiver against him. "I'll be good."

"You aren't gonna take him." Onas growled.

Brilom jolted, hands flying up to grip the shock collar. The smaller satyr let out an anguished bleat as electricty ran through both of them.

"Every time you refer to it as a 'he,' I'm shocking it." Logan waved Brilom's collar's remote around. "I have cameras posted everywhere. Do what you think is best for it, alright?"

As Logan's nice boots clicked down the hallway, Onas loosened his grip on Brilom. As soon as the door at the end of the hall shut, he nudged Brilom forwards.

"This is your chance to escape," he urged, squeezing his sibling's hand. "Go. Don't look back. I'll find my way to you."

Brilom didn't move. "It can't go. Master told it to stay."

Onas could've cried. "You- you're really-" He turned Brilom to face him. "If you go home, you could go back to normal life. Doesn't that sound nice? You could see Mom again?"

"But- Master told it to stay. It wants- it needs to be good... it doesn't want Master to drown it again..." Brilom looked up at Onas with those sad, blue eyes.

"Oh, buddy..." Onas whispered. "You- you really want to be called an it?"

Brilom nodded. "Yes. It's an it now. Please."

"Fine. If it gets you from being hurt like that... you're still my brother though, okay?"

Brilom nodded, collapsing into Onas's chest in a sobbing heap. Onas wrapped his big arms around him- it and closed his eyes.

Only when it fell asleep did Onas let himself cry, nose pressed to the top of its head. Onas wouldn't let his sibling see him like this, not now.

Can we get some inappropriate touching and/or power dynamics/controlling behavior from a whumper who's dating their whumpee? Whumpee just takes it because they don't know what to do, even as they cry?

content: intimate whumper, domestic whump, noncon touching

Whumpee swallowed as their lover’s hand slowly trailed up their thigh. “Whumper…”

“Hmm?”

“I… I’m not really in the mood right now, um…”

Whumper leaned in a bit more, whispering right in their ear. “Oh, don’t be like that. Can’t we have some fun?”

Whumper’s hand didn’t stop for a moment. They kept caressing Whumpee’s skin, teasing the hem of their skirt. Whumpee was motionless, too tense to push their lover’s hand away. “Please…”

“Don’t give me that,” they purred. “I know you love this. And you love me, don’t you? So what’s the harm?”

They were trembling now. “I just— Just not right now, I—”

Whumper’s hand dipped below their skirt and Whumpee froze. “A little fun’s never hurt anyone,” Whumper went on, pressing a kiss to their neck. “Just sit back and enjoy, love.”

Slightly obsessed with his hands...

I've been watching Voltaire's Gothic Homemaking YouTube channel (seriously its great go check it out if you haven't already) and a few observations I've made:

-DAD JOKES. I mean I already knew he loved em but GODS he loves em. Especially the dirty ones. (Thr Black Caulk bit... omgf lol...)

-He has such delicate hands! (They make me think thoughts...)

-Holy crap my bedroom is bigger than the main room of his apartment! I knew nyc apartments were small but damn! (Iir, he said it's 10x11, not including the bathroom or kitchen)

i just think this is neat, very, very weird and I live for it

more monster girls from patreon:

Have you ever wondered, “where do all those magically appearing shops go when their business is done? Do they slide into another dimension? Maybe they just become invisible to those who aren’t actively seeking them out?” And like, no. They just walk away. The Traveling Salesphantoms, or Wandering Clerks, or whatever people call them in their area, aren’t people who run magical stores. They’re people who ARE magical stores. They’re just rarely seen in their in-between forms and it’s not exactly info they offer up so them being space warping shapeshifters is a little known fun fact.

No one knows what their exact deal is. Are they cursed? Are they buildings so haunted that the structure became the physical body for the soul inside? Are they yet another type of buck wild dragon in this world, except this kind uses the items they hoard to acquire an even more valuable treasure, stories about weird customer service experiences??? It is a mystery, and asking about their existence is usually seen as so rude it’ll get you kicked out  before you can find your specific life changing item on a dusty shelf labeled ‘do not touch’. So like, maybe mind your business Jeremy Thatcher Dragon Hatcher, and buy a ring that shows you the future that you’ll be tearfully trying to return in a week.

Nosy.

Okay but allowing subs to perform oral as a form of reward is so hot. You’ve been good so I will allow you to pleasure me, and you’re gonna thank me

nsfw. mdni. read this by @bunny-extract earlier and my brain short circuited. enjoy fat price getting dommed <3

can't stop thinking about captain john price who retired to a little town and bought a little fixer upper house and goes to the grocery store every week on sundays. he works his ass off to get the house exactly how he wants it, tearing up carpets, rewiring lights, painting rooms. after a couple months, he stopped working out altogether. he breaks his back daily working on the house, but even then a delicious layer of fat develops over his hardened muscles. and since he doesn't see people that often he allows his facial and body hair to get a little bit out of control, allowing himself to get scruffy, no one will even know.

until he somehow gets you in his bed. it starts innocently enough. you ringing up his groceries every sunday. trying to make small talk with the man that you knew was not from around here. his knuckles were usually cracked and dry, hands heavily calloused, but his smile was soft and kind, warming up to you after a couple of weeks.

sundays become both of your guys' favorite days. price spends the week thinking of your voice and your body while painting walls and sanding down wood. you think of his smile and hands while word vomiting out your customer service lines to customers you wish were him.

getting you in his home, in his bed, was not his plan. or your's either. but when a thunderstorm rolls in, inches of rain falling, price offers to give you a ride home when your manager lets you go home early, knowing you have a shit car that he doesn't trust to get you home safe. he wasn't planning on it, but he can't help but invite you over for dinner. this is the closest he's ever had you and he doesn't want to let you go.

and you say yes, not wanting to go home alone for the night. and desperately wanting to see how far you can go with john. dinner is delicious, just like you expected. he apologizes for not having anything for dessert prepared, and all you can do is quirk your brow and tell him there's something else you can think of for dessert.

this definitely was not his plan. you pushing him on the bed, pawing at his cock. he always imagined it the other way around, him shucking you out of your clothes, gazing up at your soft, little smile. but as he looked down at you, tugging off his belt, your eyes were dark and your smile wicked.

you were moving so fast, tugging his jeans and boxers down before he even knew it. he was hoping something like this would happen with you, but he wasn't prepared, he knew he smelled, he hadn't shaved in weeks. he was embarrassed for the first time in a long time, he had somehow gotten you in his bed and he looked like this.

sweetheart, i should get you first. his voice is almost timid, it makes you wet.

john, you jack his thick cock in your hand, admiring the bead of precum that leaks out. you almost moan at the sight of his heavy, hairy balls before gazing back up at his flushed face. i need this more than you even know.

your hand glides up and down his cock with his precum as you nose along his balls. his skin smells musky with a hint of sweat, just like you had been hoping. you suck a hot, heavy ball into your mouth, laving at the salty skin with your tongue as he groans and twitches above you.

he whimpers as you lick your way up his balls to the base of his shaft, dragging your tongue up to the tip and taking him in your mouth. he was a gentleman, trying his best to contain the canting of his hips, but he couldn't help but jerk up when your hands trailed down his legs and reached around to grope at the fat, meaty globes of his ass. you squeezed the supple flesh, feeling the thick, dark hair under your fingers.

he was a mess, whimpers leaving his mouth, hands clutching at the sheets, not wanting to tug at your hair. no one had ever made him feel like this before, desperate and wanton, at their mercy. he liked it though, liked looking down at your teasing smile wrapped around his cock, trying to milk him of all he has. when you ghost a finger over his dry hole he almost loses it, fuck, sweetheart, i can't, i've never-

you're nodding your head before he even realizes that he didn't even think to say no. his cock pulses cum across your tongue at the thought of you sinking one of your fingers into him.

he feels boneless as you finally pull off of him, giving the tip of his cock a dirty kiss. you crawl into his lap and he barely has the energy to bundle you up in his arms, but he knows he can't let you go. and you use just smile your sweet little smile before giving him a wet kiss.