#ONLY LOVE AND ACCEPTANCE HERE

[stiffyck]

ASEXUAL AND AROMANTIC PEOPLE ARENT MOCKING YOU AND YOUR STRUGGLES BY EXISTING AND WANTING TO BE IN THE LGBTQIA+ COMMUNITY THANK YOU

[theribbajack]

"Now, the vow will be honoured, and my Lord brother's soul will return."

Radahn stans keep winning, but I personally am in Miyazaki's walls rn

[zan0tix]

to be seen for your humanity

[keferon]

The tac net crash chapter is one of my favorites so far~

Ah and. Guess what. I just discovered that including this post, I made 50 pieces of fanart for Mistakes on mistakes until.. I’m so sane and normal about this story can you tell👍

[shotmrmiller]

response to this but it got so long and ig im in my throuple era rn

@xoxunhinged i listened to one (1) song on repeat while writing this on the phone

okay yeah wait or just

it's ghost x price first.

Big burly men taking up too much space in the little coffee shop you work at or something and they're there like clockwork too. Every wednesday and friday, 8 am, usually the first clients of the day and all they order is a regular cup of joe. Plain. You offer alternative sweeteners, powdered creamer, but no dice.

Plain black. Like the occasional smudge of eyeliner(?) around the bigger one's eyes.

They're cute, in their own way. John is a blend of rugged charm and seasoned wisdom. The other, Simon, is mysterious. Guarded. Speaks only to his companion.

The pet names start to get to your head. Of course, you reason that John's just not from around here. His calling you sweetheart from across the room to grab your attention must be English.

But logic cannot stop the heat from licking up your cheeks when he does. or when Simon calls you something different altogether eventually.

"Mornin', pet."

It's even more gut-twisting when you catch glimpses of the occasional PDA: A large hand curling around an even bigger jean-clad thigh. Faces so close they could kiss (Waterboarding couldn't get the fact that you've rubbed your thighs together at the thought of them actually kissing out of you) and the fact that Simon's usually sharp gaze softens around the edges, pale gold whispering against the puckered pink of a barely visible scar beneath his face mask.

A couple. They're a couple. It's bittersweet, that feeling settling in your chest. Like dark chocolate coating your tongue. Honeyed nectar of love, the bitter bite of it not being your own.

Maybe it's time to go out with your friends to the bar.

Things take a nasty turn when Simon, out of the both of them, had come in alone and propositioned you on crisp, saturday morning.

Oh, the acid in your stomach felt like it was corroding the walls of your esophagus as it rose. You don't remember much of what you said but it'd been loud, vitriolic. You'd been so furious. Hurt that they had something so sweet, something they could call their own, and here comes this big dumb oaf looking for a piece of warm meat to stick his cock into on the side.

Your manager sent you home for the day.

And home you were headed, well more like the bus stop, stomping away and across the street but the hand that wraps around your arm to keep you in place is John's. (You'd been actually fighting to get away and he hadn't even tightened his grip enough to hurt. embarrassing.)

He clears things up. Tells you to forgive Simon, he's not the most verbose or eloquent with the words he does choose to speak. "He's good at receivin' orders instead of givin' 'em. isn't tha' righ'?"

The "yes, sir" that comes out of Simon is immediate. Obedient. Submissive. (gagging, i actually slammed the desk with my fist rn) A man who knows his place because it is etched in stone. Your teeth grind like rusted gears to keep from turning into a pool of liquid in broad daylight.

"What he meant," he roughly clarifies, "is that we would like you to share our bed." your face burns hot enough to sting. "If you want," John continues, limpid blue eyes fixed on your own.

He looks rather handsome in his uncertainty.

They don't even let you go home to wash and clean up when you nod. (Or shave. Simon had very audibly scoffed at your complaint about that. Said something crass about eating lollipops off the carpet)

The dynamic had been exactly what you'd expected it to be in the bedroom. When authority spoke, Simon listened. Intently. Without hesitation. When John ordered Simon— who'd sat with his broad chest curling around your spine, cocooning you in warmth and the faint scent of smoke, mahogany, and leather— to hook his hands behind your knees and pull your legs up to your shoulders, he'd done so in an instant.

The subtle burn of your hamstrings stretching pulled a hiss from your kiss-swollen lips.

"Bit o' pain with pleasure never hurt anyone, eh, sweetheart?" The deepened rumble of John's voice vibrated in your chest and made your toes curl.

Simon's steady breaths are drowned out by your shuddering ones when John puts his mouth on you, the prickle of his facial hair tickling your sensitive, heated skin.

The burning stretch of your muscles is nothing compared to the sweet sting of two fingers sinking into your hot sex. Pleasure wells in the corner of your eyes when he curls and scissors them while his slick tongue swirls your clit languidly.

He sends you over the edge with practiced ease, shaky limbs, and unsteady mewls. The kiss he plants on your still pulsing cunt is tender, as are your now unrestrained legs.

And he slants his lips-- still dripping slick, dewy beads collecting on his beard-- over Simon's whose mask is now long gone, his erection coming to sit heavy on the fatty mound of your pussy. You can feel the heat of his cock even through his clothes.

A saliva strand connecting them two snaps as he pulls away, glancing down to look at you, sweaty and unkempt, glassy eyes shamelessly staring back.

"I'd let Simon get his turn but," hands weave up your shirt and inside your sports bra while John's grab your legs and wrap them around his thick waist, "gotta prep ya first."

(?)

That comes back to mind after your limbs feel like cold syrup, warmth dribbling from your puffy lips and falling onto the damp bedsheets beneath your arse cheeks.

The question answers itself when Simon slots himself between your aching legs, uncut cock fat and hefty.

(dis)Respectfully, you feel thoroughly used and even now, that doesn't look like it's going to go in easy.

"Easy, love," John's voice comes from above you, "He won't hurt ya. Isn't tha' righ', Simon?"

Simon, who's dark eyes hadn't moved from where John's spend still steadily flowed, cut to him instantly. "Yes, sir."

He hums, a low, raspy sound. "How 'bout you tell our bird tha'?"

A rough hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressed on your fluttering pulse. "I won't hurt ya." His grip tightens, and the swoosh of blood roaring in your ears is deafening.

Much.

The world around you fades, senses attuned only to what's currently wrenching your swollen walls apart, going in, in, and in, it feels never-ending, it's so much, too much, until--

Your stomach clenches, it feels like it's folding in on itself, and a sharp feeling radiates below your navel.

Lips kiss your sweaty temple. "That's all there is. Did so well, eh, sweetheart? Took 'im real good, like you were meant for it."

His cock drags along your over-sensitive, raw nerves in a way that has fire licking up your spine as he pulls back. "Easy, Simon. You'll get your fun from me," John assures.

Your cunt clenches unbidden at that, vise-like around Simon who quietly groans.

The first roll of his hips pushes the air from your lungs, the second blanks your jumbled mind, the third has your nails sinking into whoever's forearms are beside your head, and the fourth has you confusing John's glittering eyes with stars.

And then he places your feet flat on his chest, his weight folding you in half, pinning you in place. Nowhere to run.

Your teeth clack when he thrusts firmly, tip of his cock sitting firmly against the plug of your womb.

"Easy does it, love. Jus' be good 'n take it," John mutters into your ear.

As if you had any choice.

After, when you're completely spent, they tell you to lay back, head propped up by a mountain of pillows, but to keep your legs open, let them see that pretty pussy, they want to see their cum spill out of you.

You thought the fucking Simon gave you had been rough. What John gives him from behind is attempted murder. He grabs at Simon's hair like it's the scruff of a bellicose dog. Pins him in place with his words, growled, thunderous, then his grip. Simon doesn't bare his crooked teeth once.

When your tired hand slithers down to between your legs, tips of your fingers smearing cum around your swollen flesh, arousal surprisingly panging deep in your core, the sheer force of John's thrusts rocks the bed with enough force to crack the wall and Simon whines like a dog in heat.

[technically-human]

Can you draw something with Doom Patrol!Edwin and Netflix!Edwin?

Maybe something about Dp!Edwin talking about his feelings for Charles with N!Edwin?

It's just something I've been thinking of, make it a little angsty?<3

Glad you asked

ko-fi

[laniidae-passerine]

There’s a very easy way to get around the fact that Assad is unable to pass for a teeenager if the show wants to adapt TVA and that’s to rely on the theme of unreliable narration. Armand begins retelling his history and according to him, he looked like he was in his early adulthood. No older than twenty four, for sure, but also not any younger than twenty. And then, just when the audience has bought it, just when this version of events has been presented as the truth for long enough, someone questions it. Asks if he really looked like that. Asks if he’s being honest with himself. And for the briefest moment, we flashback to Amadeo, the age he was when Marius first saw him. Beaten, shackled, afraid. And undeniably a child.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Good Morning, World.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[rjshope]

Namseok through the years for @raplinenthusiasts ✨

+bonus:

[iliothermia]

I won't be able to finish this drawing before the convention, which will take up my next 5 days.. But I want to talk a little about him.. I've been thinking about golems and Frankenstein, and the trans body, projection and misunderstanding, villainization and death.

The concepts of Frankenstein's monster and the golem have been swimming in my head for a while, and their lore intertwining.. The tragedy of existing being seen as a monster no matter how you try,.. And the Golem, a protector of his people and a servant whose only flaw always rang a bit close to home as an an autistic person-- being too literal in execution of his orders. He's tired and struggles with a yearning for death. His havdalah candles will be out.. The first flame of the week, a spark of starting over again-- The flame brings him fear. As much as he's kept himself together he doesn't know how much longer he can keep doing it, he fears failure- but the fear of what may happen if he's gone is even more terrifying. He's lived a long life, and over time the one who formed him has sculpted him to the golem's own wishes.. From nothing to the man he is- but even with that effort, to outsiders he's still a monster. His skin is different shades of clays from varying riverbeds as his people have travelled.. Golems are unformed, imperfect.. but even as outsides can be polished the insides can still be broken

[izuizzy]

“First Word” 💙💙

made a comic to express the relief and joy sonic felt when talia finally spoke for the first time once she became more comfortable. [read from left to right]

[loves2spwge]

they just want to be one...

commissions @jolyonvane did for me where i asked if he could please please please make stan look as desperate and exhausted as he usually does but is being kept together by all his love for his sbf kyle

[s0fter-sin]

saw a tweet about mer!ghost being rescued from roba by price and placed in his rehab facility that soap lives in after a boat propeller injured his tail and now i’m obsessed with the idea that ghost thinks he's traded one hell for another and when he sees the beached shark mer with a human device strapped to his tail, it's all but confirmed for him

the pens they’re in are poorly designed; they’re huge, deep with glass walls but completely open to each other and it takes nothing to pull himself over the edge into the the other mer's cage. he swims over to the platform he’s trapped on and hushes what he thinks is panicked warnings and fearful pleading. he covers his mouth and begs him to stay quiet; ghost is bigger and as an injured mer, he has every right to fear he'd take his territory if not eat him outright but he can’t escape and leave this mer behind to endure his fate

he promises he won't hurt him, promises he'll find a way to free them both from this human prison

the mer quiets, eyes narrowing in such human confusion that it makes him ache; this mer has been here too long, to have adopted their mannerisms and abandoned any hope of freedom

ghost quickly checks their surroundings, ensuring none of their jailers heard the mer's noises. no one disturbs them and he pulls the mer off the platform into the water, diving under his tail to get a better look at the trap. the mer tries to pull away, tries to get him to stop; it must hurt something awful if even freedom isn't enough of a temptation to try removing it

ghost winds his own tail around him, immobilising the mer and uses his teeth to tear through the trap and his heart breaks to see how his poor tail has been mangled; more than half of it gone, deep scarring left in its wake

he releases the mer and jets back to the surface; he’s wasted too much time, they need to hurry before the humans return. but when he looks to coax the mer through an escape, he sees him sinking to the floor like a stone, writhing and moving his arms in an attempt to swim but nothing stops his fall

ghost ducks back down and takes the mer in his arms-

only to rear back when he claws him away, baring his fangs in a threat display even as he sinks back to the floor, unmoving

ghost circles him, confused why he won't let him help when he sees him start to suffocate. he's a shark mer; if he doesn't swim, he can't breathe

and with only half a tail, he can't swim at all

ghost tries again but the mer won’t let him close so he waits for his eyes to begin to flutter and charges in, grabbing the mer out of reach of his claws and fangs and drags him through the water; forcing precious oxygen into his gills

he swims in circles until the mer comes to, sluggishly clawing at his arms but he refuses to let go. he won't leave this mer behind, even if he has to carry him through the ocean for the rest of their lives

but they took too long

a human enters and sees ghost holding the injured mer and hits something that makes the walls screech, red flashing from the ceiling, and even more human come charging in. ghost clutches the injured mer to his chest and hisses, saliva flying from his bared fangs

he won't let them hurt him any more

he spins, trying to keep them all in his sight- when the shark mer's fin slaps him in the face. his arms slacken around him and he throws himself at one of the walls of the cage, gripping it to hold himself up

ghost stares at him, betrayed and enraged; they've broken this poor mer until he doesn't even know who his true allies are anymore

his tail thumps against the wall, instinctively trying to swim and support his weight and one of the humans drops to one knee. he throws an arm out, barking something and another human takes off running

he turns back to the injured mer, grabbing hold of his arm and ghost hisses again, rushing them both when the mer snarls at him to stop and he freezes. he watches the mer hold his arms up and the human clasps his forearms and stands, walking him along the border of his cage back to the platform he'd been beached on

but he chirps as the human tugs him up on it, curling up with the end of his tail just barely dipping in the water

like he's happy

the wailing and flashing lights abruptly stop and ghost fights the urge to shake the echoing ring from his ears. the other human returns and he doesn't fight the hiss when he sees another trap in his arms; the same one the mer had around his tail

ghost's hiss cuts off when he gets a face full of water and he splutters, looking back incredulously at the shark mer who'd just splashed him

he laughs at whatever look is on his face and rolls his eyes in another painfully human gesture. he reaches for the trap, fingers flexing like he's trying to pull it right out of the air and the human shakes his head as he hands it over

the mer lifts his tail onto the platform and ghost can't believe his eyes when he fits the trap onto himself; tightening every strap until the muscles of his tail bulge under the pressure. the mer slumps like he's relieved and shoots him a look; daring and almost playful and winks as he throws himself into the water

ghost lunges for him, waiting for him to sink again-

but he's not sinking

he's swimming

he twirls and spins around him like an overgrown dolphin, flaunting his strength and agility and the humans around them laugh and shake their heads at the display like they’re used to it and ghost realises it isn't a trap on his tail

it is his tail

the humans gave him a new tail

the mer flicks to a stop in front of him, now easily supporting his weight and gives him a full-fanged grin

"you're a little tangled up inside, huh, big boy?"

[casualavocados]

An idiot like you...an idiot like you...

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 9

[iizuumi]

snow!!!

[onthemerits]

no one told me that the simone-karl plot from why women kill would rip my heart out and stomp it into little itty bitty pieces