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thinkivykink:

justalittlebit-daddy:

I would probably cry.

(so naturally I want to try this)

There was this time in January when I was over at Pup’s and Saltine was there. He was domming the two of us. He was fucking Saltine and, because he was a jerk, Pup had put an entire pillowcase over my head. (Hey guys, be careful with this. I could still breathe but like maybe don’t just try this.) 

 Beside me, I could feel Pup shaking the bed with his thrusts. Saltine was whining softly, and Pup had reached over and grabbed my hand, moving it between my legs. “Get wet for me, you’re next,” he’d said, although I clearly already was. 

 By the time he entered me, I was already really close from rubbing my clit and listening to them fuck. I came almost embarrassingly fast, but Pup kept going despite my protests that I was sensitive from my orgasm. He had Saltine hold me in place for him, and I found I wasn’t able to push her off. 

“I want to fuck her like that,” Saltine told Pup. “I want to make her cry like that.” It almost pushed me over, just hearing that, I almost came again.

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maeamian:

porkrolleggandsarah:

teamcoco:

WATCH: Terry Crews Isn’t Afraid To Rock The Man-Purse

I fucking love Terry Crews.

He’s been so outspoken about toxic masculinity and it just gives me so much hope

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burning-words:

wetheurban:

Texts From Your Existentialist

Our new favorite Instagram account (and its accompanying Tumblr), Texts From Your Existentialist, takes advantage of the absurdity of modern life by pairing modern art and film stills with text bubbles containing Nietzschean quips.

Keep reading

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A post about romantic relationships

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helloelloh:

so I’ve been in a relationship for 5 years now. And I see a lot of posts about how people think relationships mean having butterflies forever, your heart beating faster when they walk into a room, about cuddling together every night, legs intertwined, that you’d be so happy to live together you’d sleep on a double bed with each other every night.

And its not really like that, at least not to me.

You stop getting the butterflies when you live together. Your heart no longer speeds up when you see them, but instead, everything calms down. When youre in the room with them, you feel calm, and secure. When you cuddle them you feel your heart beat slow, and the sound of their breathing carry you towards comfort. It doesnt feel like a roller coaster anymore, it feels like home.

You don’t sleep curled up with each other every night, legs twisted between theirs so tight its hard to tell where yours begin and theirs end.

Instead, you sleep comfortably, side by side, sometimes facing different directions. But every night, you find yourself scooting backwards on the bed so you bump into them. You snuggle against their arm, or stroke their hair as they fall asleep. There are nights when my boyfriend, in his sleep, reaches around me and pulls me to him, like a child with his teddybear, like I am his comfort.

 In the wee hours of the morning before the dawn breaks, when the world is blue and you see through cracked eyes, you curl into their chest and inhale their scent before drifting back to sleep. 

Kisses aren’t always romantic and firey anymore. But there are so much more of them now. There are cold kisses when you’re eating ice cream in the summer, and sticky kisses over breakfast pancakes. There’s “im leaving now” kisses, and “one more kiss before you go” kisses. There’s sleepy morning kisses before work, when you don’t remember the alarm going off but instead the press of their lips against yours is what brings you into the day.

There’s kisses before sleep, and, you are so sweet with the things you do kisses. There’s kisses because you treat animals so tenderly, and I’m so glad i’m with you and not someone else kisses. There’s quick kisses in the aisles of the grocery store, when its loud and you gravitate together, when instead of having your own personal space and their own personal space, its both of yours together, and you step into their chest to take up less area together. 

You don’t always text each other with confessions of love and care like you used to, because that’s a given now, and you’ve moved on to quirky inside jokes about the life youve built together. You share looks of exasperation and amusement in public, your own little world against the outside one. 

Relationships aren’t always a fairy tale. They’re not always fireworks and sparks, at least, after the start.

But they are a quiet rhythm and hum of love and care. It’s not a fire in your soul, but one in your heart, keeping you warm and comfortable, comforting you as you drowsily drift into sleep.

And I love that.

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zanythoughts:

fukwhore:

misha 

Were you looking for something like this earlier switchette?

Cc. hypno-sandwich

Ding ding ding!