#for the unaware

[paradise-of-lost]

i keep mixing up leporidae and lepidoptera so fuck it im combining them

leporptera

[tinkerpeller]

saw this funny prompt on twitter and thought "yea i can do that, sure"

[owchie-wowchie]

...does anyone wanna hear me out on a spies are forever atla au?

[al-mayriti]

i hadn't even considered that in spanish 2025 has the funny number with the funny rhyme....

[sarcasticdolphin]

I always ask for something Smrtolf every time you post this ask, so I gotta uphold the tradition and ask for Smrtolf and ❤️

❤️ first kiss / realization

They rest together in a tranquil silence after the frenetic dance at dusk, alone in the world. Smrt is still in a way that only he and his angels - and soon Rudolf - can be, but the gentle stroke of his thumb at Rudolf's hip keeps the prince's mind from drifting.

It's very strange, knowing that Smrt is touching him. It's been a forgone conclusion that they can never touch, but Rudolf has mused on what Smrt's skin must feel like before. The reality isn't quite what he had imagined. Smrt's skin is smooth like marble, but doesn't hold any sort of chill. No warmth, but no coldness either.

His friend's features are the same as they've always been, fair but inhuman in a way that's difficult to put a finger on. The eye paint certainly helps, as does the unearthly pallor that Smrt and his angels share. Rudolf wonders how the pallor will suit him. He's always been pale, but his pallor is entirely human next to Smrt's.

They're waiting for something. Or perhaps Smrt is waiting for something. Rudolf is just basking in the touch of his touch of his friend, so long denied to him. It could be an hour or a century and Rudolf wouldn't know the difference.

Smrt's hands shift slowly, one going to Rudolf's cheek while the other grips Rudolf's hip more tightly. "It's time." Soft words. Tender words. But there is an inescapable air to them.

Rudolf nods. "I'm ready." He's been ready, or at least felt ready, for so long. He's longed for Smrt with every fiber of his being. For belonging. For the simple embrace of his precious friend.

Smrt's lips are entirely unlike his hands - warm and almost alive. But as must as Rudolf is lost in his friend's embrace, he's not so lost as to not notice the the odd feeling coming from his back, and the soft caress of feathers all around him where before there had been none. Smrt's wings, but also his own.

[imnotviciousreally]

Stagger Lee is such a wild song. I remember when I saw the Bad Seeds live and the whole crowd just screaming the words "I'm a bad motherfucker, don't you know. And I'll crawl over fifty good pussies just to get to one fat boy's asshole!"

It was a magical moment

[dragoncarrion]

you tell a bitch to keep their cat indoors and suddenly their town is the first in the world to have eradicated every viral, bacterial and parasitic disease, they invented completely harmless cars, dogs and predators dont exist either but somehow the native songbird population is fine since the cats in this place have lost the hunting instinct, there's no pollutants or toxic plants and human cruelty has ceased to exist. and mr mittens has a chip in his brain that will explode if he doesnt go outside 10 hours of the day

[do-you-know-this-queer-character]

Do you know this queer character?

Castiel is Queer and Agender or Genderfluid, and uses varying pronouns based on presentation!

[catgirltoes]

I don't think I've seen anyone talk about how transfems are pretty much entirely barred from working in childcare.

[kitskiis]

He keeps doing this I’m gonna cry

[geezmarty]

hi falin hiiii (titties out vr on twitter)

[arapa1ma]

jesus christ the furby drawing is still getting notes

[corvid-khaos]

fionna and cake but simon drops increasingly wild anecdotes about his life

[shotmrmiller]

god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)

[luvrofbeauty]