#i dont have an explanation for this

[lupuscaliber]

[extratrrestrial]

put his ass in the iron lung

[purrincess-chat]

Cat, how's totk going? 🤦‍♀️☠️

[ozziesjester]

me and alexander

[crazyw3irdo]

欠点？かわいいの間違いでしょ！！！

[osamusbigtits]

mika is obsessed with her boyfriend. in ways her friends call embarrassing. but she doesn't mind. not when she knows daishou would give her the world on a silver platter without her even asking.

she had never even been interested in volleyball until meeting him, and then volleyball became the coolest thing in the world. all because it was daishou's favorite sport.

sure, fine. say whatever you want, but she loves her boyfriend and she's allowed to.

mika sits in daishou's lap, kissing him deeply. she cups his cheek, holding him close, feeling his jaw move with each kiss.

daishou holds her hips tight. he does every time she sits in his lap.

mika wraps an arm around daishou's shoulder. with ease, daishou lifts mika and lays her on the couch, kissing her again. her heart flutters at the action. for a moment, she's flying.

daishou rests his hand on her thigh when she wraps her leg around his waist. she needs him closer. her skin tingles with each point of contact.

she's so glad she decided to wear a skirt. especially when mika can feel daishou's calloused hand on her bare thigh.

he kisses her jaw and mika pulls him back into another kiss. it's messy and desperate. she pants into his mouth and mika almost loses it when daishou groans into her mouth.

"suguru," mika breathes out. "need you."

it's barely been five minutes, but the way his hands feel on her, his soft grunts and moans against her lips, everything is going straight to her belly. a tingling, warm feeling builds and she wants more. needs more.

daishou moans softly. "fuck. you're going to kill me." he kisses her jaw as he reaches under her skirt.

mika raises her hips so daishou can yank off her panties. she spreads her legs as daishou quickly unzips his pants and pushes his boxers down just enough to get his cock out.

she leans up and kisses him "fuck me," she whispers into his ear, loving the way daishou shudders at her voicie.

"but a condom-"

"forget it, you can come on my tits. now hurry up." mika wraps a leg around his waist, urging him forward.

mika is far too gone to think rationally. all she can think about is how wet she is, how ready she is for daishou. its all she can think about.

a calloused finger reaches down to rub her clit as daishou gently thrusts into her.

she moans, high-pitched and needy. she used to be embarassed by it, but now she knows its exactly what daishou wants to hear.

"just like that," mika hums and bites her bottom lip as daishou starts with slow, gentle thrusts.

daishou moans low in her ear. "fuck, mika."

she doesn't even need to say anything for him to thrust harder, keeping at the same pace. she doesn't like it fast, she likes it controlled, hard.

something they figured out together. something daishou has memorized. he has her whole body memorized.

he resumes rubbing quick ciricles into her clit, making mika arch her back. her moans grow louder with each thrust.

she knows daishou is trying to keep himself quiet. he bites her shirt but it isn't enough to hide the moans and even some of the whimpers.

mika reaches up her own shirt, pushing her bra up to be able to play with her nipple. the added stimulation bringing her the pleasure she loves.

"mika," daishou groans, "mika, "i'm gonna-"

"just a little more. don't stop. not yet." she says- no demands.

she's so close. every part of her body aches for it, sings with the pleasure that rolls through her.

daishou pulls out right before she comes, but his fingers never stop. she doesn't blame him and can't even bring herself to scold him as pleasure hits her hard.

her thighs tighten around daishou's waist as she cums. a high-pitched moan turns into rough breaths as daishou works her through it.

and like the good boy he is, daishou wants for her command to cum.

"mika," he says, softer. she can feel his hard cock against her thigh. he doesn't push, doesn't beg, just waits.

fuck, mika loves him.

she kisses him quickly and then sits up to take her shirt off. he watches, raptured as she moves. watches her tits bounce as they drop out of her bra. he doesn't move as he stares.

"come on, baby," she says lightly as she lays back on the couch.

daishou quickly moves, straddling her thighs. she watches, fascinated, as he jerks himself off. it's not long before he's cumming on her chest with a cut-off moan.

he breathes hard for a moment, panting.

"i love you so much," daishou says.

mika giggles. "I love you, too."

[dizzybizz]

We’re gonna go go go go, on a adventure

i think i like findus better

he is chaste and pure and cat-sized

unlike that pantless man-sized "cat"

visual:

[a-being-of-pure-vitriol]

finally went back to reading Imajica and was immediately reminded of how weird this book is.

the Autarch is just like "ah yes, let me ask you if this life stealing leech makes you feel good. sexually. no? oh so like love. no? ohhhhh so like being back in the womb- god I'm so jealous of that I never got to do that."

[gurggggleburgle]

Babe what's wrong you've hardly touched your bingtiddyhe

[mochasucculent]

Was looking at refs and since Viktor has two different leg braces I was wondering, do we think he wears them simultaneously?? The refs don't perfectly line up perspective-wise so it's hard to tell but parts of the one he wears during the Hexcore scenes look like they could maybe line up with the brace that he wears over his clothes, but also some parts really don't and look like they'd be super uncomfy. Also HOW does he take these on and off. Experts weigh in

[bunnieswithknives]

As much as I love angst I think it would be funny if he just didnt give af

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Being someone who read Under The Red Hood and came out with the firm belief that, for Jason, it's not about killing Joker, it's about Jason wanting proof Batman would choose him over the Joker (bc shelia chose the joker). Makes seeing any other media where it's all about just wanting the Joker dead is a teeny bit frustrating. to be honest

Jason could've killed the Joker himself, really, really easily. Jason kidnaps the Joker before the confrontation. I can't open my comic for a reference right now, but it felt like he had the Joker for quite a bit before the confrontation. He had him. He beat him up with a crowbar. He had every single opportunity to kill the Joker himself, but he didn't because that wasn't his goal. Make no mistake, he did plan for the Joker to be dead by the end of it, but do you see what im trying to say here

Edit: If I knew this post was gonna get 1000+ notes I would've tried to word it better or something, this was a rant I made on the way to the grocery store 😭

It's not about making Batman kill either. When Batman says he won't kill, Jason adjusts and goes, 'Let ME kill the Joker or kill me to stop me' instead. The test is all about Batman choosing him. The whole final confrontation is Jason's first death again. The parent, The Joker, and the explosives. It even ends with Jason unable to move as a bomb goes off right next to him again because the parent didn't choose Jason. And instead tried finding an option that'd benefit them and (consequencely) letting the Joker walk, again, lol, lmao <-in agony

[inbabylontheywept]

Soviet Birds.

The secret facility that I work in has holes in the ceiling. We don't know how to get them fixed.

We tried asking the government to fix it, once. We told them that the holes in the older parts of the facility had gotten large enough to fit birds through, and that birds were getting through, and that, perhaps, a Soviet Spy could fit through as well.

After all, it is well known that Soviet Spies and pigeons are approximately the same diameter.

Our hope was that that this vague and nonsensical threat would put a little fire under Uncle Sam's feet. If the fed couldn't be bothered to give a shit about the giant gaping holes in the roof of our facility, perhaps they could be persuaded to give a shit about... Soviet Spies.

This attempt at manipulation 100% blew up in our faces.

See, the government does not need to be persuaded to give a shit about Soviet Spies. It still wakes up most nights, drenched in cold sweat, terrified and confident that a Soviet Spy is hiding in their nightstand. If it sees a rock on the ground, it flips it over, pistol drawn, ready to shoot the Soviet Spy it fully expects to slither out from underneath. Which is to say: The government is crazy. So when we dropped those two words - inflitration risk - in the repair request, they came in guns-a-blazin'.

Does that mean that they fixed the roof? Of course not. Don't be stupid. No, instead of performing basic maintenance, they installed a state of the art alarm system throughout the facility - lasers, sonar, the works - and told us to always be on the guard. Because of the roof holes.

Then they left.

So now we had an extremely good alarm system... and birds. Which have combined in incredibly obvious and predictable ways to produce an unending fountain of problems.

For Example: About once a month, someone gets called in by the local airforce dispatch because AAAAAAAAAAA a Spy is in the Rad Lab! We're all gonna die! Except every time, it's a bird. And I get why we have to check, but every time, the dispatcher is panicked and the person going out has to be like listen, listen: It's a bird. It's always a bird. It's been a bird every month for the last fifteen years. It will be a bird next month. All this stress? Bad for your heart.

Second Example: Sometimes, birds get in while we're actually working. And when it's in the morning, you know, it's a nuisance, and it stops testing (we are not going to risk irradiating a bird) but it's not an all-hands-on-deck situation because it doesn't take ten hours to get a bird out. But surprisingly often, the bird gets in riiiiight at closing time, and in that situation, everyone goes feral because nobody can leave until the alarm is set, and we cannot set the alarm while the bird is there, because the bird would immediately trigger it and then we'd have to stay another 4 hours to confirm that it was not a Soviet Bird.

So in order to go home, everyone's top priority is Get That Bird. And we have a system for it.

Step 1: The test stands tend to be located in rooms with 30+ foot ceilings. We can't catch birds in places like that - so we have to lure the bird into the relatively low ceilinged (8 feet only) upper offices.

We do this by turning all the lights off in the test rooms, then putting floodlights by the exits. I don't know why this works - some kind of evolutionary brain fragment shared by both Bugs and Birds - but work it does. The birds almost always follow after the lights. From there, it’s just two guys moving the floodlight and a third guy to turn off the lights.

Step 2: Everyone else has been waiting for this step. There is this long stairway up from the basement level into the offices, and in the final stage, the floodlights are brought to the base of the stairwell to bring the bird up. At the top of the steps there will be a group of tennish people, waiting for the signal. The light guys will set up the final transfer, everyone will tense, and then, swish...a bird will flit up the stairs and into the offices.

It's like watching werewolves on a full moon. Before the bird cometh, we are engineers. Nerds. Pale and skinny things, trembling under the fluorescent lights. After the bird, we are beasts. Feral, gnawing things, glowing under the orange sunrise of the 70's halogen floodlights.

And like all beasts, we cannot help but give chase.

Step 3: The were-engineers begin the hunt. The goal at the start is not really to catch the bird - just exhaust it. So the pack simply does not relent. Because the stakes are going home on time, the group is basically given free reign to go anywhere in the building. If someone's door is open, and the bird goes inside, they're going to have to deal with ten sweaty panting maniacs leaping around their office. They don't get to say that they're busy, or remark on how all this movement is a terrible distraction. They are allowed to sit in silence during the chaos, and perhaps thank the war party for chasing the bird while they sat comfortably on their ass. This has been explained several times, and it will continue to be explained until cooperation is achieved.

Anyway.

The chase can go on for quite some time. Sometimes, the bird will get tired and find a crevice to hide in, where it can then be reached through standard cornered-bird catching techniques.

Other times, it will slow down enough that someone can actually yoink it out of the air. But this will go on until someone catches the bird and triggers Step 4.

Step 4: The Finale. This is the get-the-bird-out-of-the-building stage, and it requires someone to adopt a specific role: To Become the Sacrificial Vessel of Bird Removal.

This job is both coveted and feared. It's coveted, because holding a wild bird in one's hands is a precious thing. To feel how small, and fragile, and scared it is, only to free it from the building? That is what it's like to be a benevolent God. But the cost! Oh, the cost. The entire time the Vessel is in motion, the bird will be biting the hell out of their fingers. And I cannot emphasize enough just how painful bird bites are. Their entire face is a set of needle posed pliers, and they know tricks the even the cartels haven't figured out yet. So there's always a little hubbub about who shall be The Vessel while onlookers, stranded outside The Office of Bird Capture, can only look on. Quiet arguments and pleas are heard, little fragments of fear and pride and glory trickling out of room like the silver dust left behind in a bag of well shook quarters. The sound of concensus is silence, and the argument will go on until that's all that's left. And then, from the darkness of the final office, the chosen sacrifice will step forward: Hands gently cupped, tears streaming down their face, fingers trembling from the pain of the ongoing bird chomps.

And this scene is what organizes people. Not leadership, not truly. No one can think and coordinate a crowd while their fingers are being attacked with a combination nutcracker/ear piercer. But the crowd sees the suffering of their annointed, and it is driven to do everything poossible to make the process flow. People instinctively flair out, finding the fastest path outside. Doors are held open. Paths are cleared. Someone, somehow, always knows the way forward and can describe it to the sufferer. Left, left, forward. Corner closet. Yep, there's a hall in there. Forward. Two-hundred more feet man, you're doing great. Just hold it together a little longer. You're killing it.

Then the final door swings open, and the bird flees out into what remains of daylight. And yet, even here, the deed is not yet done. I cannot explain it in words, but the crowd that helped is never content until they can see and speak on the Bird Vessel's wounds. They all have to pull the fingers back and see what was given. Estimate the price: One day to get better - No, three - No, a week! Are you blind? Do you see that blood blister? -Yeah, that's not going away anytime soon - Damn, can you believe how feisty those things are? Like wolves without teeth.

(They cannot help but touch as they go. It has always been this way. Even Thomas was not content until he felt the wounds in Christ's hands.)

Only when the last of the helpers has seen, and commented, and commended, will the engineers scatter. It is their return from the underworld that announces to the sun living surface dwellers that they too can go home. (@somerunner tolja it needed to be a post.)

[crow-quet]

*You tell a joke about two kids who played in a muddy flower garden.

*...

*You tell a joke about a kid who slept in the soil.

[arunneronthird]

timothy "i have better taste in music than u" drake wayne, ceo

[ivipl1]

this is Sage! They're the "human" disguise/form of the Change God, and take Loop's role in my ISAT au where Mirabelle is the one looping!

Here she is btw