#but nah man

[virtualcarrot]

Always sparring a thought for how essentialist racism discourse has become, but especially today as I think of this guy that I met two days ago, whom I sincerely believed had origins from the Maghreb/Middle East, and who it turns out is merely part Spanish--with all that entails of historical intermingling, sure, but far away enough that he didn't have anyone to point to as a reference of racialization

Anyway, that "white" dude keeps getting stopped and frisked whenever he's in an airport

[complete-clownery]

Two more months and I'll open commissions guys fr this time lol

[grapecaseschoices]

.

[vulpiximisa]

The Haikyuu theme but every season it just gets faster

[0jamajos]

not to be a bitter hater but I just thought of the Ojamajo Doremi anniversary movie and felt disappointed and underwhelmed all over again

[avo-kat]

heres a joke:

leftists that arent vegan

[theorist-fox]

Can I interest you in some silly sex with Simon? 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️

18+

Word count: 1k.

CW: nothing really. Just silly sex. Just giggling sex. Just I-need-to-give-this-man-some-humanity sex. Simon is ticklish and you find out, that's the plot.

Masterlist 🦊

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

You look delectable straddling his hips.

Naked and soft, plump tits sitting prettily in his hands. His thumbs swipe idly around your perked nipples as you ride him slowly, early morning sun peeking through the curtains and lapping at your skin. What a way to wake up, what a sight.

He stares at your lips and how they part for him—something he still has to get used to, though he probably never truly will. How dulcet does his name sound if it’s your voice whispering it, how beautiful your eyes when they take in his face.

Soft hands are pressed on his chest for leverage, and you’re treating him with a view he keeps pinned to the forefront of his brain—gliding your cunt until you’re chock-full of him, stroking yourself until you’re shivering.

He likes it when he’s on top, sure. He’s used to taking the lead and orchestrating every detail, in and out of the job. 

But when you allow him to sit back and take it? Hell, sign him up. He’d do it every day. Especially when it’s this lazy sex here, in which you’re canting your hips to cum before he does, giving him the blissful chance of feeling you clench around him when he's still hard. 

Goosebumps rise under your nails as they graze down his chest and brush his stomach. Your hands wander blindly on his belly, then his sides, as you clock his eyes with your heavy ones, panting softly, idly—my beautiful, beautiful girl.

But then you inadvertently brush his ribs, and he stiffens—even squirms, and your movements come to a halt.

You blink as conscience returns to you slowly, and the room sinks into tense silence. His cock twitches inside of you when you tilt your head inquisitively, squinting your eyes.

Experimentally, you brush your fingertips against his ribs again, and his biceps flatten to his sides, trapping your hands.

Your eyes widen, and his do the same.

“Don’t.”

You gasp, “Oh my God.”

“Darling, no.” He warns, but you’ve clearly made up your mind already.

Your lips are curled in a smile that promises mischief, and he can only give up, sit back, and count his losses.

“Darling, yes.”

Simon feels your fingers wiggle under the tight press of his arms, but no matter his strength, they're seemingly useless against that playful resolve you're displaying.

His cock is still embarrassingly hard inside you, and Simon reckons it won't soften any time soon. You don’t seem eager to get off him either, thus prolonging the torture with each tiny movement you make.

He inhales sharply and fights tooth and nail to school his expression into neutrality. His eyes are narrowed, and his jaw is locked tight. The only thing giving him away is the flush of his cheeks, getting pinker by the second because he refuses to open his mouth to breathe a much-needed lungful of air. Knowing that if he would, he'd bark a laugh that would proclaim you as the winner of this fight.

He would never.

You roll your hips, then—cheap trick. He unravels with a shaky breath, and his biceps give out enough for you to slip your hands away.

And then, he knows he's done for.

“Cut it out.” He barks, trying to sound stern and miserably failing. He knows because you're laughing even harder.

Your fingers feel like tiny bugs crawling up his sides, and they make his breath catch in his throat.

“Never.” You say, with a grin that scrunches your nose. A smile that would normally make his heart throb, but right now just makes him wish he were a lesser man so he could throttle you.

“Fuckin’-“

You chuckle.

You evil little cunt.

Resistance lasts a few more seconds before he bursts.

It’s not a full laugh that leaves him; more of a wheeze that makes you chortle like a wicked witch. His chest heaves as your fingers frantically tickle his sides. Tries to get you off him by shaking his hips, but that only makes the two of you falter and moan, and then chuckle and catch your breaths.

His shoulders shake in a breathless, choking laugh that pitches upward as you continue with your assault (yes, assault—he is not being dramatic), eyes veiled with tears of frustration and mirth. He shrieks when your hands travel under his armpits—the sound makes you giggle in a way that would have him melt. 

“That laugh’s lovely, baby.” You say with a smarmy grin he wishes he could wipe with a kiss, hands unrelenting against his sides. “Sound like a kettle whistling.”

He tries to glower and push you off, but you’re surprisingly strong when you’re focused. Right now, your only goal is to apparently make him hate you—he'd rather be held at gunpoint than being forced to hold in a laugh that makes his stomach hurt.

Simon now looks shockingly harmless, with his cheeks flushed bright red and his voice an octave too high—wouldn't look dangerous if he tried.

“Tea ready, yet?” You add, batting your lashes, because why not rub salt into the already embarrassing wound marring his pride.

It’s that unfathomably stupid joke that finally makes Simon crack. He barks out a laugh that bubbles up his throat, rippling through his stomach so suddenly that you bounce above him. Your own laugh follows soon after, because each time you manage to steal one from him, your heart vibrates with loving triumph.

But still—he is Simon Riley, isn’t he? Member of Task Force 141. Lieutenant in the UK Special Forces, SAS. The Ghost. There is some pride in there, one he'd like to keep intact.

He tries to recollect his breath, sniffling, and his arms shoot out to wrap around your waist. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him.

It’s then that you find yourself in a position of utter disadvantage, on your back with your big brute of a boyfriend holding you down. You’re wide-eyed and still smiling with barely contained giggles, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn't make his heart soar.

Sure, he’s panting, still proper flushed and apple-cheeked, with shivers wrecking his spine and unshed tears in his eyes—but he takes great pride in having won yet another fight (again, not overreacting at all, if you ask him).

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

You fix him with a look. “Simon, no.”

Before you can add more to your complaint, he rams his cock into you until your chest stutters, your lips mouthing around a shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

He fucks you into the mattress, then—once, twice, until the remnants of laughter vanish from your face and you’re trembling in bliss, eyes rolled back under heavy eyelids.

He places a sloppy kiss down to your collarbone.

“Simon, yes.”

[sacreblugh]

new pfp wtf is up drama alert nation

[mossywizard]

Me and my baby sister crying over the same thing

[eightspringdays]

Never forget the fact that, because he was roleplaying as his nonexistent lil sister, his twitter account got banned for a while and had to scream publicity he was, in fact, Tatsuki Fujimoto roleplaying as his nonexistent lil sister.

And no one believed him at first.

[aria-greenhoodie]

“Maybe it’s just inter-dimensional sickness…?”

Click for Quality!

[teawithghosts]

THE MACHINE HERALD

[idyllcy]

soul baby - grim reaper x reader (Spoiler Warning For Grim's Name)

Grim reapers don't have time to reproduce and fall in love. There's no time in the underworld for that. They claim a soul every couple of minutes, and they get some time to recover during the time that their souls are unbalanced.

Though, as much as he finds you to be infuriatingly flirtatious and messing with his head, you weren't wrong when you told him that you'd make a soul baby with him.

Maybe that's how you first got into his head.

And when sound of your skin and his echoes through your apartment, your nails clawing down his back desperately, Casper wonders for a moment, just a moment, if you were really just some mortal, or if death itself came up and decided that he was too lonely. He doesn't mind the way your nails draw blood on his back, and he leans in further, pressing your legs against your chest as he thrusts into you again.

"Ca—" You gasp. "Casper."

"Yes, sunshine?"

You moan as you feel him force himself further inside of you.

"'s too much."

"What happened to the flirty little thing in the chatroom?" He tilts his head teasingly, lips pulled into a smile. "You're so bold when there's a screen."

"Ah," Your back arches as your chest presses to his, lips quivering as you whimper.

"Speechless?" He speeds up, using his body weight to press you down. "Thought you wanted a soul baby. You want me to put one in you? Hm?"

You nod your head feverishly, eyes blowing wide as you cling onto his shoulders.

"Alright. Don't waste anything, sunshine."

You moan as he cums in you, legs shaking as you feel his warmth flood inside of you, and you gasp, eyes teary. You cling onto him while shaking, only relaxing when you feel him collapse on top of you, cock plugging you full and keeping his cum inside of you. You catch your breath as he nuzzles his nose into your jaw, pressing a gentle kiss there.

"Was I good?"

"You were great, casp."

[whitesunlars]

walking into erev rosh hashanah services tomorrow like "what a fucking year, my man"

[ckducky]

Exorcist no more

A Hazbin Hotel fan art based of the legendary work of John Romita Sr

[imactuallyreallycool]

What a lovely dream

But that what it’ll always be. A dream.

Close ups and stuff lmao