#idk even know what this is

[andersonfilms]

her perfect fingers, shoved down your throat as she implored you to suck on them. blonde hair entirely a mess from your own making. delicate hands running through from root to tip but now the golden ends kiss your chin, providing a tickle up your spine.

daring blues fall into your gaze as abby smirks, your hips bucking at her thigh wedged between your legs, clit throbbing at the friction. “isn’t this what you craved, baby?” taunting you with sultry as if it’s needed. anything she does and your putty in her hands.

she giggles maliciously as she pushes more pressure onto you. you moan, but it’s muffled from her fingers stuffing your mouth. “so fucking pretty, pathetic, but you’re goddamn perfect.”

“want you to cum for me again, yeah? use me and get off like the pretty baby you are.” you nod reverently as your slick coats her.

“now suck.” you hollow your cheeks and do as instructed. her mouth quirks up as you follow orders. it’s fucking sinful how much she gets off on it but god, you’re such an angel like this. fallen from grace, splitting yourself in half for more — willing to do anything.

as she pulls her fingers out, she wipes her tongue on the flat of your tongue as the drool collects on your chin. she smears it down your neck, leaving the remnants to dry on your sternum. abby’s hands travel to your soft stomach until she circles on your clit.

your body twitching, trying to chase the high, already sensitive from from the past two orgasms she’s given you. “i know. you’re so desperate to come…” she pushes your hair to the side, making your body tremble further. “show me how much of a filthy whore my baby really is. yeah? can you do this one little thing for mommy?”

[konigsblog]

tw/ rape and non-con

soap and gaz would definitely rape perv!reader

they'd conspire together, planning how they'd take you and when. i mean, you're a filthy, little whore and you need to be put in your place!! maybe if they rape you a little, you'll stop whining and begging for their attention, even when they're in the middle of important reports. they just wanna scare you off, to see the fierce and demanding girl cry and shake.

god, if you're perverse because you're a virgin — untouched and unused and overall desperate to feel a thick, hard cock inside your cunt for the first time — then they'll be ruthless and brutal with you. they'll make sure that you'll be scared to feel it again, all while the other comforts you and tells you that they're not raping you, they're giving you what they think you need and deserve! a nice fucking!

and when you cower away from them for weeks on end, sobbing at their pressence because you're scared they'll hurt you again — they'll just manipulate you and gaslight you while the other cooes at you in an attempt to sway your mindset further, that they didn't rape you, that you shouldn't throw that around :(

[yumieio]

random marine: is anyone here straight

sengoku: honestly at this point i dont think any of us are even a little straight

garp: there is time I had to question if being a marine made me like men

tsuru: ive been liked women

akainu: *puts hand up* me

kuzan : i know damn well you aint taking put your godamn hand down

kizaru *puts akainu hand down* ive been gay as shit if yall hadnt noticed

[letters-unsending]

No. 30

////

“I told Superhero we were married so he would help fight against Supervillain.”

////

Villain takes Hero’s hand into his lap and worries his thumb over the ring—their fake wedding ring—like he knows each arc of metal, each facet by heart, like he’s known the ring for years. Even as a participant in this charade, Hero thinks he could be convinced that Villain cares. He thinks, as Villain’s fingers wander and trace the scars across his knuckles, that this could all easily be real.

“Darling,” Villain calls, shaking him out of his reverie, “why don’t you tell him? About how it began.”

Darling. Villain has jeered that name throughout many of their fights, but the word has never been soft, never been breathed over the shell of his ear. Hero twitches. He hides the flinch with a smile and turn of his hand. Taking his cue, Villain slides his palm over his own, and Hero sighs, leaning into Villain’s side, looking lovesick as he ought to be.

////

“Finally!” Sidekick teases when Hero shows them the ring.

“No,” Hero sighs and takes the ring off, setting it on the table, “it’s not like that. It can never be like that.”

“Oh,” Sidekick whispers as Hero slumps into his chair, “you’re actually really torn up about this. I knew you liked that white-picket, married life shit, but you look like the dry cleaner ruined another one of your capes.” Sidekick sits in the chair opposite of Hero and pauses. The silence is long, condemning. “Oh, you poor thing. You actually like him, don’t you?”

Hero lifts his head from the cradle of his arms. “I can’t do this. I can’t have him acting like he actually cares for me.”

“…like he actually cares for you,” Sidekick repeats slowly.

“Yes?”

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty, you know.” Sidekick pats the ring and smiles when Hero’s hand flinches toward it. “Because I really thought you were smarter than this.”

////

Villain’s had a hand on Hero’s back all night. Hero almost tripped forward the first time his palm pushed against his spine, leading him further into the finery of the gala hall, but it soon became a comforting weight. When Villain spoke to another attendee for too long, Hero leaned back into the touch. Villain would thrum his fingers and murmur ‘patience darling’ before leading Hero off to the next businessperson or reporter.

After coming back from the bar, Hero decides to return the favor. Smiling, he sidles up beside Villain and slings an arm behind him, resting his fingers over the edge of his waist coat. He settles a thumb on the curve of Villain’s hip as her proffers a flute of something fizzy and pink forward.

He doesn’t register Villain has stopped mid sentence in his conversation till both Villain and his conversation partner—holy shit that’s Superhero—turn toward him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Hero flusters, about to withdraw his hand.

“It’s fine, darling.” Villain reaches down and flattens his hand over Hero’s, holding it still against his hip, “I just wasn’t expecting you so soon.” Sending a reassuring grin to the both of them, Villain takes the drink and continues the conversation, “now, where were we?”

////

“You’re not wearing your ring.” Villain observes, sagging against the wall beside Hero.

“We’re in battle. Of course I’m not going to wear it.” Hero retorts and fingers around his collar until he hooks something—a necklace—and drags it out. “Anyways, I do have it.” The ring hangs from the chain, glittering like firelight in the dark, and Hero squeezes it in his hand. “I keep it like this so I don’t break it.”

Villain stares at the ring, at the ash and blood on Hero’s fingers. He laughs and pulls out a necklace from beneath his own collar. His ring hangs just the same. Sighing, he folds it into his hand and rests his forehead on the tense line of his knuckles.

“I wish we had more time to pick these out. We picked the first pair they showed us in the store because we were in such a rush.”

“I like them.” Hero holds his ring tighter. The gem cuts into his palm. “They’re a good memory—they’ll be a good memory, after this is all over, but you’re right, I would’ve gotten you something different. Something sleeker and dark, like your suit.”

“You would’ve gotten me-”

“Say, how bout once this is over and Supervillain is dealt with, we get new ones? I mean, not that soon. There’s no rush, but-”

Before Villain could string out a response, a crash sounds from behind them. Dust plumes over the wall they’ve sheltered behind and Villain lunges at Hero, yanking him up by the collar. His smile is feral and he grabs Hero’s hand, the one with the ring.

“Darling, your timing is terrible.”

[cannotfly]

@anyfight's raefer mcclellan says, " breath in and out. "

a pair of pink, satin pajamas that remind her of a.udrey h.epburn rest over her skin and she clings them closer to her. a gift from mrs. eastman with a comment about how she's grown out of nightgown by now. it was an act of pity. a white flag in their on-and-off war. but she was delighted by the prospect of not having to wear gowns to sleep anymore. how girlish of her. there are heavier weights on her shoulders, yet she's concerned about what she's allowed to wear to bed. if she closed her eyes and really tried, she could pretend that she's older than she is; that all of this is completely normal.

the moment the tests were positive, she's been playing a role she hasn't quite grown into. johanna was flying through life. trying to keep her head down. pinching herself while her guardian scolded her over and over again, just to prevent herself from covering her ears and facing a worse scolding. but now that there's a newborn sleeping in the previously empty bassinet and that she's fitting into her old clothes again, it's come to a screeching halt. the future was blurry just a month or two ago. but now... where are they going?

and what happened last week only solidified the need to do something.

❝ ---and then what? this is all just going to happen again! ❞ hands run down her thighs, before grabbing at the fabric. she tried her best to stay calm. not let her guardian win. try to show that she knows what she's doing ( at least a little ). instead, johanna is caught in the middle of a ramble and barely hears what riff is saying. ❝ i can't, ❞ she whispers. but she does try to squeeze a breath through heavy lungs. johanna wishes she could be brave. when mr. bamford drops riff off, it's usually earlier in the day. she can usually put herself together enough to be the strong one, pretending that it hadn't scared her as much as it had so he wouldn't worry about her.

another breath, rushing through her chest too quickly and leaving behind a sharpness. ❝ he was worse. ❞ before the dress and the courthouse, johanna was convinced her guardian would have her sent away when he inevitably found out. a girl's home or even one of those asylums in england. but he couldn't stand being out of control of her for that long. ( and those places are supposed to help girls like her. he couldn't risk that. ) ❝ i thought-i thought... ❞ she sits on the edge of the bed, ready to jump back up at any moment. ❝ i thought he was going to hurt me again. and that you weren't ever going to come back. ❞

the thought of single-handedly raising their daughter is terrifying enough. in that case, her guardian would lose all patience. riff protects her---to the point where something like this happens and he does it over and over again---what if he wasn't there anymore?

❝ you can't do anything that has the chance of even slightly irking him. ever again. ❞ it isn't the first time she's said it. johanna has the feeling this isn't even remotely close to the last. ❝ she already grew so much while you were gone. ❞ i don't want you to miss our daughter growing up any more.

[silverskulltula]

listen hobbit pussy could be mediocre (doubtful) but even if it was it's still followed by a 17 course homecooked meal and the kind of weed that would make sauron scared. lithe beautiful immortal elven pussy has no power compared to the simple, hardworking hobbit. and it goes without saying that you cannot handle dwarven pussy.

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

We all know the semi-canonical ‘all the Robins know to hide/duck inside of Batman’s cape, even as adults’ thing.

We also know that Danny ‘is LITERALLY a ghost’ Fenton sucks at remembering his own intangibility while ALSO forgetting to look ahead of him.

All I’m saying is, Danny Fenton (or Phantom, if you’d really like) would absolutely SLAM into Batman on accident while running on roof tops and Bruce ‘Brooding Instinct’ Wayne doesn’t even think twice about letting the kid hide and scanning around for danger before there’s a record scratch of ‘wait who tf is this?’ kicks in.

[frownyalfred]

thinking about a Damian who was raised his entire life hearing how much he looks like his Father, how he's the blood son, how he's better than any other child Bruce Wayne has taken in, starting to buy into it like a kid does, only to hit puberty and turn out looking like 80% Talia.

[mairodia]

My addition to the Mikus of the world. Been feeling very bittersweet bc I am moving away soon to go to grad school on the east coast, so here is my send up of the LBC, Miku-style 🌴🩵 and yes she smokes weed

You can find a timelapse of this drawing at patreon.com/mairodia :)

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Michael refuses to be gaslit on “THE BITE OF 83”

[hadesisqueer]

I relate to Jinx so much I too would get attached to this cutie pie and give my life for her if needed and lose my shit if something happened to her. Fuck y'all I'm grieving

[artist-rat]

some epilogue vibes (an excuse to draw some hugs. and my durge so many times)

[monstrousproductions]

So, I responded to a post over on my personal blog about people behaving "weird" in public and mentioned that being a bit smelly is not, in fact, a moral failure. And I just looked at the comments and feel deeply moved to reiterate:

Smelling bad in public is not a moral failure.

In fact, I'll go one step further:

There is no moral dimension to cleanliness.

There are all sorts of reasons a person might be dirty in public. They might not have access to the facilities or products they need to stay clean, they might be coming home from a dirty activity, they might have mental or physical conditions that make it hard for them to maintain their personal hygiene, they might be dependent on other people for their hygiene needs and those needs aren't being met.

Also, with smells in particular, "bad" is subjective. I'm personally extremely sensitive to perfumes and aftershaves, and while I can sit quite peacefully in a crowded bus that smells of BO, I often have to leave shops or get off buses because someone's perfume, which they no doubt think makes them smell lovely, is actually making me gag.

You don't have to go and huff great, gusting lungfuls of air around the next smelly person you bump into in the corner shop. By all means, breathe through your mouth, change your seat, open the window, wish the situation were different.

But you do need to let go of this idea that a smelly or dirty person is also a bad person. They're literally just a person - just another human animal living in their animal body, trying to get from one day to the next. Sometimes, people are dirty. Sometimes, they smell bad. If that's not something you can encounter without taking personal offence, you need to seriously reassess your own expectations of being in public.

[yumieio]

kuzan about to go to sleep in his own quarters he spots human eye lookin at him: oh hell naw goes to kizaru for the rest of the night

kizaru goes to kuzan quarters and see this old ass man: oh shit uh uh kuzan you can stay with me its the old mans quarters now

diffrent version

dragon goes to sleep in his room see this creepy ass admiral in his room in the middle of the night runs to sengoku who beat shit out of the admiral for stalking a child tsuru finishes him off (garp was busy) they all draw the line when it come to children

[heartorbit]

searching for a star that's still unknown to anyone!

[jadewritesficshere]

Steddie soulmate AU where Eddie is a famous musician, everyone assumes he doesn't have a soulmate. Eddie was just smart and doesn't confirm, doesn't want to go through rabid fans who claim to be his soulmate. He's had too many show up wearing his initials they tattooed on themselves even before he was asked about soulmates in an interview.

Enter Steve Harrington who works as a nurse. Just casually on his third nightshift in a row in the ER. Sipping some coffee trying not to fall asleep when they get the call about some confidential patient coming in.

Eddie comes in for some injury. Steve has 0 clue who he is, just says "You look familiar, did we go to school together?" And Eddie practically falls off the stretcher at Steve's feet. Goes all googoo eyes at him. Steve being mildly concerned because Eddie's heart rate keeps skyrocketing (its because Steve is touching him).

One of the other nurses can't help but try and get the gossip from Steve, who is very much confused as to why she cares about this random patient. She tells Steve who Eddie is, and he's just like ???? Okay???

Steve doesn't admit it but the picture she shows is HOT. It's Eddie, flipping off the camera, tongue out. He's covered in tattoos, including the word 'sorry' written in a weird script on his middle finger. He's shirtless and his pants are so low that Steve can see the dip of his hips creating a v and-

Steve has to walk into the supply room to get himself under control. Pretends it doesn't mean anything and goes back to his job as his heart thuds rapidly in his chest.

Eddie tries not to pass out when they draw his blood, Steve holds his hand. It feels right. Eddie can't help wanting to ask," Hey, do you have a soulmate?" But he hates being asked that question, so he won't.

Until Steve bends over, his scrub top lifting up slightly. Eddie can't help glancing at his ass, but then he can't breathe. Because on his lower back is the initials EJM.

"Steve G. H?" Eddie asks as his voice goes up an octave. Steve turns, bewildered ," How did you-?" "Edward James Munson." Eddie whispers.

Oh