#and i cannot stop

[permanentlylatetotheparty]

new hyperfixation who dis

[dishonors-student]

fwoosh

[iwanttobepersephone]

The gacha community has done irreparable damage to my brain (the only way I can force myself to be creative is by placing various characters in a "reaction-video" esc situation)

[orang3cat75]

this is the shpadoinkle cart for sure. im sure of it.

[renegadeknight]

girl help I'm coming up with fic ideas faster than I can write them

[evilgoodguys]

he’d forgotten how much he missed that smile.

[hassamkhalidsaidfuckyet]

thinking about jon archivist is ruining my life

[wattemeer]

imagine this: they are both sober

[evil-gender]

If I ever see any of you in public, the code is “I like your tits”

that way we know we’re from tumblr without revealing anything

I’m just going to say this to strangers until i find a tumblr person

must keep reblogering!! Im going to be so suspicious if any one tells me this now!

Remember the answer is: I stole them from gandalf.

[cistematicchaos]

I keep thinking about this discussion I was watching the other day where two people were talking about tattoos and how people say younger people shouldn't be allowed to get tattoos because "they might regret them later."

One of the people spoke up and said something along the lines of that if she got a tattoo when they were younger and regretted it later, they didn't think that meant they shouldn't have been allowed to get the tattoo.

Because her younger self deserved the right to get that tattoo and enjoy it, even if they didn't like it 100 evolutions of character later. Their younger self still deserved the right to make that choice, just like her [insert age] self deserves the right to get tattoos their 90 year old self would despise. It would be a disrespect to claim otherwise.

Your younger self deserved the right to your body just as much as you do now, even if you don't like or agree with what they did with it.

What a beautiful mentality that applies to so many things.

[hansoeii]

the best person I know.

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop. 

[clarisse-doodles]

inspired by this post, in which Damian does not know what Vine is

[theartofmadeline]

yes i'm still thinking about the botw champions in 2024

[thetrashiestbaby]

thinking about Nimona’s face in this scene because she already knows how this plays out, she’s lived this already and while Bal has the hope that she once had in his eyes, she KNOWS what happening before the sword is even raised. She’s NOT SURPRISED she’s NOT SHOCKED she’s only DISAPPOINTED that Ambrosius can turn on the man he loves because she’s already played this out with Gloreth

[sunsburns]

guess

smut 18+, age gap, fem reader, underwear fixation

logan howlett loves to swear up and down that he’s too old to mess around with a pretty young thing like you. you’re out of his league in everything you do, from the way you can get up early in the morning and stay out late at night, stumbling back into your apartment in a fit of giggles, humming the last song that played at the club you were returning from.

he acts like he doesn’t notice, and he acts like you don’t exist. but the moment you bumped into him in the laundry room it’s been hard to ignore you.

it was wade who’d introduced the two of you to each other when he was giving logan the grand tour of the apartment complex, and they’d run into you while you were unloading a drier, tossing your clothes into a basket.

you in your tiny shorts and tight tank top, one earbud in and the other dangling by your chest. he tried hard not to stare, especially when you slowly straightened yourself up, holding your basket of clothes to your side, hair messy and sticking to your face a little bit.

it was hot in the laundry room, hell, the whole fucking building felt like a furnace now that the a.c. refused to work in the peak of summer.

but there you were, wide smile and open arms when wade shoved logan in your direction. you didn’t take it personally when he merely grunted at you, a slight nod to his head as a greeting. to logan’s surprise, your lips curled as you looked up at him, and you stared up at him like he was some kind of tree you wanted to climb.

no shame about it either.

logan’s eyes were drawn to your basket as wade spoke, retelling the whole story of how the two of you became ‘neighbour besties’, as he had put it. how you helped wade keep up with the ‘youngsters’, as he called them.

no, logan was too busy staring at a lacy black pair of panties sitting at the top of your basket. pretty little thing, pretty little bows to adorn it.

he slowly tore his eyes away from them and looked at you, then down to your hips where he could see your bright pink underwear, peaking out from the denim.

and maybe, in a dream or two, he imagined what those cute pink ones looked like in full. how it would be like to push you against your door before you could even unlock it, unbutton your shorts and dig his hands into them just to feel the soft fabric of your pretty pink underwear, soiled and ruined from how wet you were with want.

but for now, he’d have to do with the black lacy ones, he almost didn't want to take them off. running his hands over the fabric, grinning when your back arches against the bed, a little desperate, way too needy.

you’ve soaked them, all ruined just from him touching you, from the way his teeth teased you, pulling at the bows, running his nose over your clothed pussy.

logan hooked his fingers over the fabric at the center, pulling it to the side, tongue poking into your cunt, drawing out a whine from you. with an open mouth, he pulled back to see your slick, coated lips with a satisfied grunt.

logan pulled them back just to stare. fuck, they were so pretty. you were so pretty just sitting under him, in nothing but those pretty panties. yeah, logan might be old, but he can keep up for a night.