#fooled ya

[ivetried27nameswhataboutthis1]

Enid: Mom, Dad, I’m a lesbian.

Esther: Oh no.

Murray: Does that mean, what I think it means?

Enid: What?

Murray: Will you abandon the pack to run away with this Wednesday kid and…

Enid: And?

Esther: *whispers* …and adopt a bunch of cats?

Enid: Yes, I will.

Murray: It’s unnatural!!! Werewolves and *gags* cats. It cannot be!

Esther: *crying* My little girl is gonna go to hell. No, no, no.

Enid: Why would I go to hell?

Esther: Because cats are treacherous evil things, that attract the devil with their pure existence!

Enid: I really thought you would be more hung up on the gay thing…

Esther: *sobbing* How do I deserve this?

Murray: *screaming in the distance* NOT THE CATS!

[tragicotps]

[ackalice]

Happy new year

First activity for the year: get sick

believe it or not it wasn’t from alcohol

Or sparkling cider which I actually drink

[kotdish]

[zibiscusloon]

So called “free thinkers” the second Tumblr gives us cat paws

..BOOP!

[nymika-arts]

@ everyone who ever said 911 was queerbaiting lol

[emil1863]

WRONG.

[heymrspatel]

put me down, ya big goof!

"for keeps" entry for @gallavichthings masquerade event! ✨

[beatcroc]

what kind of frivolity would you engage in, mecha?

<

---

[sam-loves-seb]

a man in uniform

"Tired, big guy?" he mutters, kissing along Ian's jaw. "No, I just... feel good." Ian tilts his head and Mickey runs his tongue over his pulse point. "That feels good." "You look good," Mickey says, trailing down his neck. He tugs on Ian's security vest. "Look hot in this shit." "Yeah?" "Mhm. Camo's always been your color."

[ 3.5k | 1/1 | rated: e ]

[misteria247]

Fully convinced that Stanford Pines could kill a man with his bare hands

[loganslowdown4]

‘That you sometimes (un)knowingly act like your sides when you are alone…’

Oh Tommy, I see you

😂🤖

[jittersbitters]

So, I recently started rewatching Arcane S1 to fill the hole in my soul(lovejayvik tho, that completed me for like 10 minutes) after what ever was S2 and got a little carried away after reading some really good fics on this website.

I also finished watching Superstore and Bridgerton so its been a spiraling thanksgiving week,

Anyway, I know I said Matt Murdock was coming but I got really distracted... So here is a part of a draft scene in a viktorxreader smut fic set during his earlier academy years (and eventually into the series events? if I can manage that long) I wanna post soon.

I tried to shift my thigh away, looking up at him, surprised by his boldness - his hand following after. A flush of warmth settled in my stomach, mixed emotions bubbling up my throat as I struggled to swallow them back down. I could feel the intensity of his gaze as I quickly looked back to my paper. Viktor turned his hand over, tapping a gentle rhythm on the top of my thigh like he was playing piano. “If you just needed a little motivation,” he started, leaning close as if studying my notes. His taps slowly moved to drag up and down, callouses start to scrap the goose flesh building up as he made sure to linger along the hem of my skirt's slit. His intentions were unmistakable. “Then all you need to do is pay attention and write your notes.” I could only swallow hard, aware of the game we'd been playing over the past few months. The exchanged glances, light touches, the foot games, the playful teasing. It all began the day he took my pen, and since then, the tension had only grown, with neither of us trying to pull back, but rather escalate it. He kept tapping my thigh, expectantly waiting for my response or a sign. I glanced at Viktor again; his golden eyes sparkled with wanton glee, sending my heart racing as I thought of the possibilities and the ramifications of being caught. We rarely interacted outside this room, so I wondered what the harm could be... right?

I felt a little freaky and missed the old Vik.

Tell me what you think. Either way its being finished and written with hopefully at least 3 parts in total. I think it will be called 'The Long Game' or 'With Sugar & Spice"

Edit: it's up yall. Here

[dawnbreakersgaze]

Anyone else ever think about how utterly wrecked Dawnbreaker would look the first time you touched him?

The truest definition of touch starved- he's waited years to feel your hands on him, dreaming of it every night since he was old enough to desire such things. He's not the proper and stoic Dr. Zayne you're used to, all practiced hands and measured breaths.

No, he is years worth of yearning and desire, trembling fingers almost hidden underneath the sheer force of his need to finally- FINALLY taste you. And it's almost imperceptible, the sigh that escapes him when your lips first meet, but the soft groans that follow when you bite at his lower lip confirm it was not your imagination.

His grip is one that borders on bruising; he's terrified you'll slip through his grasp. The vagaries of his dreams have left him so desperate for your affection that his body follows every slight twist or shift you make with absolute precision. His foggy mind still sharp enough to count every single point of contact between you, keeping a mental tally of how many places your physical beings become one.

Let your mouth plant and purchase down his neck, suck and bite and tend to the skin that makes him gasp and shudder. Drag your nails down the peaks and valleys of his chest and feel him vibrate and shiver; hooded eyes alight with all the need of a flame grasping for its only source of fuel. Listen carefully for every hiss and moan as they pull through him; each sound the little spark that threatens to call forth the avalanche that could bury you both. They're all throaty and pulled from behind his teeth, his brows pinched upwards as his eyes pull shut to focus on the searing heat of your touch that brands him as yours.

Feel as his cool, firm fingers find their way to the back of your neck and shoulder to knead and grip, curling around your pulse point to ground himself. He needs every reassurance you're real. Every heartbeat, every kiss, every touch, every soft word whispered against his skin that causes ripples of goosebumps to flood him- all of these are moments that will both sustain and haunt him in the days ahead.

Dark hair dusts acoss his eyes as you momentarily force yourself apart from him to stop and admire your work- and oh boy, what a work of art you've made. The expanse of his chest, littered with scars and lip given bruises, rises and falls with the strain of your activity. Jaw slack, to let saliva wetted kiss swollen lips pant. His honey and clover eyes burn and bore into you as you appreciate the masterpiece before you, and you know you've finally experienced what it means to create like the Gods.

[denimshortsdean]

karl urban your slutty little faux-cockney accent isn't fooling anyone. every now and then you will say a word in the most wellingtonian accent known to man. you can't potato potahto your way out of this one karl. i know it's you

[monstermonger]

Small update!

So, I'm extremely amazed and lucky to have gotten lots of support on my art lately.. thank you so much ;; Admittedly I'm pretty behind on looking at the notifs, and notably for asks: i want to answer them all in a single post, so it will be a little longer til there's a response there. I appreciate the patience :")

Lots more art incoming as well, I just like to spread my pieces out a bit.

Thank you. Hope you're well :"D