Awwwww Thank You That’s Very Nice! Sorry If This Took To Long Or Not Very Well Written. I Tried

Bed by Johan Grimonprez, 2009

Photograph by Kristien Daem

I think the funniest possible modern textual adaptation of Dracula would be Jonathan as a part time recipe blogger and you have to scroll through 10 paragraphs of the most harrowing thing you’ve ever read in your life just to get the recipe for paprika hendl

Rural Retreat, Virginia

built in 1857

Homeboy really ruined his career for her white republican blander than the heroine of an Hallmark Christmas movie ass. I bet all of juliannes fans are middle aged trumpies trying to convince their daughters to think she's cool because they want them to be bland trump voters as well.

and I bet there gonna be like, "oh it's all these crazy stupid teen girls obsessed and in love with him just throwing an tantrum over him possibly having an girlfriend " like no sweetie we don't want to get on bins bons T-Mobile commerical limp dick , because unlike him we morals and wouldn't fuck an racist.

Im not even an fan of him, it's just so fucking satisfying and funny to watch an racist get their comeuppance.

Just an experiment. Reblog if you actually give a fuck about male victims of domestic violence and rape.

Of fucking course

What sick bastard doesn’t

I’m so sorry, once more, with feeling, then I’m done— Yan!Din Djarin HCs, but focusing on when she finally gives in, and decides to try to love Din. Kissing him back, wrapping her arms around him when he hugs her, initiating affection herself, etc.

How many kids do they end up having after she’s finally in love? 🙈

No need to apologize! 🤬 I love these, it makes me feel validated 🤧

Hmmmm. It definitely started off slow. You didn’t want anything to do with him after you were initially taken. Purposely avoiding him in such a small space was not an easy feat, but once you started getting sick all of the sudden? It all started going downhill.

As always he watched from afar. Making sure that you realized on your own. He didn’t dare get close to you, instead he sent the kid as a peace offering.

Initially, very miffed that the man sent his own kid to do his dirty work, you ignored him, often allowing him to walk up in your space and waddle around. He brought some smiles to your face on occasions. He made things seem less darker than how they really were.

Mando acted (poorly, you thought) as if the child came up to you despite his ‘scoldings’. It was only a ploy to have an excuse to be close to you without your obvious hostility.

As you came to terms with your predicament, you grew tired. You were starting to feel lonely. You would let him touch you, kiss you, embrace you, but you never responded back.

He realized after a long while that you only reciprocated his touches during sex. Always being constantly turned on due to hormones (you assumed) was bound to make anyone crazy. He took what he could and he really took it good. It had gotten to the point where you didn’t have a day in which you didn’t have his cum leaking from you.

He relishes in the moments where you would grab onto him as he thrusted into you from behind. He relished in the way you would lead his hand down your panties and fuck yourself against him, the way you twitched and moaned when his mouth wrapped around your sore and swollen nipples.

One time he embraced you in your sleep. His chest was against your back and he nuzzled his nose into your hair. You shifted in your sleep and he froze momentarily. He immediately tightened his hold as you started to move.

He was expecting you to break out of his caging arms. You found him suffocating and you always tried to push him away, despite never reaching your goal. He tries to kiss away your scowl of disgust every time. You would stay still when you got tired of fighting against him.

This time though, you just turned to face him. Your eyes were half lidded and looking up into his. Your hand lazily came up to his cheek and your fingertips started caressing along his jaw, his nose, his brows and finally along his eyes.

His eyes fluttered closed as you lightly tapped his eyelids. He let out a heavy exhale through his slightly parted mouth. You’re hand fell to his hip and you shuffled closer, curling your head in the nape of his neck.

“Go to sleep.”, you mumbled demandingly against his skin. You woke up in the middle of the night, holding each other so closely, to the point where your legs were entangled. You changed positions quickly after, facing away from him and on the edge of the mattress. He managed to pull you up against him in his sleep and you sighed in defeat.

You would let him do things to you, on occasion sharing a kiss or a hug out of human necessity. He knew that your touches didn’t come out of love it was out of habit.

By the time you were pregnant the second time, despite your hopes that his many attempts to impregnate you wouldn’t take, you had managed to become downright affectionate towards him. Especially when finding out you were with twins.

You decided that things would be better if you cooperated fully. You started to feel something for him as the first baby djarin was born. His touch was so gentle with her, you could see the deep love he held for his children, making you realize that, that was the same look he gave you when you did something mundane, as you fixed up an astromech, as you feed your child mashed fruits or even just laying in bed, half dazed and delirious with left over pleasure.

He sits down with a heavy sigh. He turns to see you sound asleep, still swollen in the belly with his children. He smiled weakly as your chest rises and falls with every breath, the pendant still in between your breasts and glinting in the small candle flicking on the small table beside the bed.

He winces as he released the armor from his flight suit a little too harshly, causing it to fall to the ground in a loud clang.

You stir awake, cradling your bump, which was straining against the shirt you’ve borrowed from Din’s closet ever since he took the week long job. You sat up unsteadily, still half asleep.

He curses softly under his breath.

“Go back to sleep you need your rest-“

You cut him off before he could continue, placing your lips on his. He’s astounded by the way you deepen the kiss and especially by the way you pushed your hands into his locks so desperately.

Letting go of his face you maneuvered yourself behind him. You held him close to you, leaning the back of his head to rest on the curve of your breast.

“I feel like… I could try… for the children. For us.”

The two words echoed against his skull. For us.

You rested your cheek against his hair and sighed shakily. Your hands rubbed against his chest soothingly, feeling the ripple and curves of muscle and skin. You feel him shiver against you and start to tremble.

You looked down at him in concern, finding that tears were starting to run down his face. You kiss his cheek in reassurance and he grasps your hand in his.

It’s been two years. He was willing to wait more for you to be ready to fully accept him, but two years was a long time.

The days pass. He still gets chills whenever he feels your hands on his body. Wrapping them around him as he cooks something over the stovetop. Randomly coming up to him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He especially gets chills when your start to beg him for more. At first you told him, very clearly, that after the twins were born, you two were done procreating. He agreed despite the downright displeased look on his face.

He even took you to the nearby village’s doctor. But he saw the way you stared at pregnant women as they walked by in the markets, with a sense of longing. The way he can see your brain turn to mush as you saw a newborn baby.

He saw your yearning to be bred, he heard it. Especially as he whispered huskily into your ear about how he wishes to see you swollen again, to have others see who you belonged to.

“Why do you say these things?”, you groan as you cover your face in embarrassment. You have never cum as fast as you did by his words, as hard as you did by his implications.

“They’re just words, mesh’la.” He grins against your shoulder.

“Unless… your liked it so much you might want to… y’know.” He waited for your response. You didn’t say anything for a while, just tracing over the letters on his chest written in Mando’a. As each of your children were born he added their initials accordingly.

“We don’t have the resources.”

“We can always renovate the house, I’m sure the village will be more than happy to help.”

“We can barely handle four right now, including a magic, wizard baby. It’s like you forget about his tantrums-“

“We’ll get a nanny droid. Your very good with repairing them.”

You huff.

“Go to sleep.”, you mumbled. He chuckled at your pout.

A month later you found out you were pregnant once again.

He doesn’t tell you even after you’ve had two more kids together (in result of a ‘malfunction’ in the device he disabled on your neck, which was marketed as the safest possible birth control option), that he was able to bribe (threaten) the doctor to deactivate it and ensure that you wouldn’t know a thing about it.

It seemed like with each baby, each vulnerable moment, you wanted him more, you loved him more. But you most definitely did not love him as much as he loved you.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Damn.🌚

Requests open! Feel free to share your thoughts and your own headcanons along with some requests ofc.

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.

Hey guys just found out I didn't have asks on, now I do. Feel free to make yandere headcanon requests for resident evil,ff7,dc and silent hill. ❤️

The Post Plus Protest is coming! Updated Edition

WHAT ARE WE DOING?

Fill out the survey on the original Post Plus post (be polite, don’t spam, but GET YOUR POINT ACROSS that we don’t want this). Since we mean business, it’s time to hit them where it hurts; Ad Revenue.

We’re proposing a 24 hour log off as the main event of phase one.

WHEN IS THE PROTEST?

The protest starts by logging off on August 6th, 2021 at 12am Eastern Time (US). Here’s a quick chart to help figure out when you log out. AUGUST 6th, 2021  12 am Eastern Time (US)    4 am UTC    5 am BST/London    6 am Central Europe Time    7 am Moscow Standard Time    9:30 am Indian Standard Time    12 Noon Hong Kong Time/Australian Western Time    1 pm Japan Standard Time    1:30 pm Australian Central Time    2 pm Australian Eastern Time

AUGUST 5th, 2021

  11 pm Central Time (US)   10 pm Mountain Time (US)     9 pm Pacific Time (US)

THE END TIME IS 24 HOURS FROM THE START TIME!

So that means if you log off at say, 6 am Central Europe Time you’ll log back in at 6 am Central Europe Time on August 7th. We’d prefer if if there is no posting, no queues, no likes, and no reblogs during this period.

WHAT IF I CAN’T/WHAT ELSE CAN I DO?

Like this post, share it, and use the hashtags #tumblrlogoff2021 and/or #postplusprotest on ANY and ALL social media. If you’re using the mobile version, you can always leave an honest review on the app center of your choice (once again: be polite, don’t spam, but GET YOUR POINT ACROSS!).

WHY IS POST PLUS/POST+ SO BAD?

Tumblr’s primary focus is on FAN content (whether any of us want to admit it or not). Putting these kinds of contents behind patreon like paywalls is a terrible idea and the legality is NOT in the user or their subscribers favor. You can absolutely get in legal trouble for what tumblr is proposing with this new feature. There’s also the worry about the site’s (poor) security and access to Post Plus users bank information. Do you really want a site that lacks a functioning search function and whose userbase routinely get hacked to have your credit card information? No, you really don’t.

WILL THIS WORK?

Maybe, maybe not. It’s an attempt at doing something to combat tumblr’s impending self-inflicted demise.

ANYTHING ELSE?

There’s a time zone checker linked in a previous post if you need it and I’ll try to fix any mistakes to times as I find them. Keep an eye out for future posts closer to the protest date and the eventual phase two! Thank you ALL for your support so far.

Yandere Ethan winters.

Hi! I have been an lurker for a while now on various yandere blogs. This is my first time writing fanfiction so please be kind on me <3

-its pretty unanimous in the re8 fanfiction community that Ethan is an obsessive worshiper, he love,love,loves you.

-you and Ethan met at dulvey, you where the actual adoptive/foster child of the baker's, who was pushed out and imprisoned by evaline. You spent years in an living hell, locked away in the basement (you take the place of mia in this au so just imagine the cell Ethan found her in during re7) watching your family be turned into monsters.

-Your only solace was mia whenever she was lucid. While those short periods of normalcy didn't allow for much conversation, you knew an few things about her. She was from Texas,was married to someone named Ethan. An man who Mia's affection for wained as the years spent apart grew. You two held an unbreakable bond from the years spent together under evalines thumb.

-One day something happened that caused evaline to snap, she killed mia, the only thing you had left in this world. You where unable to leave your bed due to the intense grief, staring at the wall with blank distant eyes. You where pulled from your intense dissociation by jack baker throwing mia's personal effects into the basement. You the noticed mia's laptop, within your reach.

-its now or never, evaline was probably gonna kill you soon anyways, and death was an better existence then the past four years, kept alive for the sole purpose of evaline torturing you in an jealous rage. You managed to log on, to find an unfinished email still on the screen.adressed to her husband, with two video attachment's and one line of text. "Dulvey, Louisiana. House of jack and Marguerite baker"

-you where planning on emailing the sheriff's department, but you started to hear footsteps from above. You hit send and quickly closed the laptop. Hiding it under the floorboards

-you figured that Ethan would call the police , the fbi, swat team, or some form of trained professional who could save you.

-but nope crazy motherfucker came on his own, with nothing but his Prius and the clothes on his back. The only other person called being his washed out former frat boy cousin who lived in new Orleans. , Ethan walked into the literal physical embodiment of an southern gothic novel.

-and the events of resident evil 7 happen, only difference being Mia's absence and him protecting you. The high tension environment leading to codependency.

-His yandere tendencies began to show after Chris saved your asses and hauled you off to some research facility in Romania. While throughout dulvey incident he showed some form of romantic interest, little comments, lingering gazes, the guilt made you sick. Many times you reminded him that he should be concerned about his wife, but your concern was ignored.

-ethan demanded that you two where never to be separated, the company obliged. And the two of you had an apartment like space on the compound.

-where Ethan started to treat you like his live in girlfriend.

I'm going to finish this later today, I need to let my phone charge some. Thank you 💓