#idk what to tag your url as

[hunnicute]

i think my favourite trope in hunnihawk fanfic is when bj calls hawk pretty

[twisted-deal]

I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW WE HAD EVIL BOOPS

iS THIS BECAUSE OF THE AZUL TEAR POST-

[jizzlords]

@lustsang asked: "Wanna hear something funny? Some people think we should start dating, and I am like haha Ozzie honestly deserves much better then someone like me, he is sweet and kind and is always there for me but I am not good for him...no he deserves someone better then a whore like me." She said as she spoke to her friend, a drink in hand she sipped it back not realizing she had said that quite loudly. / whistles softly. / unprompted, always accepting.

❝ ♪ Hm...? ❞ the way king of sin lulls his head to the side from his spot on the loveseat — over there, in the direction where he hears the clicking of popstar's heels coming. Indeed, he's expressing keen interest in what hot details she has ... maybe not for him (he's quickly realized) but to eavesdrop in his own club? His own ring? He see's no harm. He couldn't help it!

Remaining in his unassuming position of lying low on the sofa — his head propped up with a claw — Ozzie's sweeping that obscenely long tail of his to be just out of Verosika's line of vision with a mischievous grin spreading across his face (and a crinkle in his eyes to match). Talking about the sin, himself?! Ooh, this is getting better! ❝ Hm — !! ♡ ❞

But oh, at the same time ... poor thing. How unfair for a pining, bleeding heart like hers to bleed more for him. She played off their small gestures pretty well for a while, too! Too bad it's fruitless to pretend with him, especially long term. A game many lose to time and time again when playing with him. Ozzie's tempted, at first, to address it immediately with some commentary of his own but decides against it - at least, until she's hung up her call.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ And when she does... ooh.

Finally, sin reveals himself. The way he sits up from lying down, it's alarming how he was able to remain hidden for that time considering his size. ❝ Verosika, Verosika ♬ ❞ he's chuckling to himself when he turns his head in her direction. Slowly, he's rising from his seat and approaching her with his arms open, ❝ I sincerely hope that all that degradation shit wasn't self-depreciation and only silly rumors! And y'know what? I hope in response to those rumors — I hope you said something twice as good: we sleep together. ❞ He knows that'll get them to can it.

Rumor or not, his succubus are more than welcome to use his name in a way to get demons to back the fuck up. It's a wonderful repellent! Upon standing before her, he's thumbing the dribble of alcohol on her chin. ❝ And even better, send 'em my way and I'll tell 'em the same shit. I think that's actually pretty funny, too. The dating rumor. What'd you say to that?! ❞

[bizarreandjarring]

people getting too fucking comfortable on the internet idfc if you’re “slash j” maybe don’t tell people you don’t know that you’re going to beat them to death. over garlic no less

don’t put shit like this in my notifs please or get blocked

[magimcull]

Hey gang! Because I'm incredibly indecisive, I decided *you* guys get to choose what Tainted forms I do next! The Top 3 will be the first 3 I draw!

[deus-ex-mona]

we are united in a common cause on this ✨#blessed✨ day

[syrenki]

top 10 lana songs to know me better

last girl on earth

pretty when you cry

i want it all

kinda outta luck

born to die

heroin

art deco

west coast

tired of singing the blues

cruel world

both @dollvein and @volach tagged me, thank you angels and sorry for taking so long 🫀 on the other hand i would like to tag @gutgloria @woundworship @schulzian @filmstar1997 @nephilim222 @november0novelet @isthaturboyfriend ! in case any of you don't know who i am, that's my old url and icon. cheers

[bayrut]

tagged by @quelsentiment; tagging uhh @ramonapest @lunarflwrs @h-isforhiatus / @h-isforhome and @dionysuswearsanorangetracksuit

1. Are you named after anyone? my dad's sister, kinda?

2. When was the last time you cried? last night 👍

3. Do you have kids? nope

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? uhh I'll go like e said hoenstly idk what counts and what doesn't? with my two best friends yeah but that's because we udnerstand each other (i wouldnt want to hurt anyone accidentally you know)

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? idk i just look at what they look like 👍 face hair eyes hand way of walking

6. What’s your eye color? very dark brown (?)

7. Scary movies or happy endings? happy 👍

8. Any special talents? im great at stressing over things that don't require being stressed over!

9. Where were you born? in a hospital

10. What are your hobbies? crafting/drawing going to a museum going to a park walking around the neighborhood hanging out with friends bullying cats

11. Do you have any pets? nope but theres this cat (derogatory) i see almost daily

12. What sports do you play/ have you played? tried a lot of stuff growing up? everything was fun nothing stuck really, I just do a biweekly fitness class with friends

13. How tall are you? above average woman height

14. Favorite subject at school? math/(non-bio) science probably? i didn't reallt hate anything except bio

15. Dream Job: maybe a kids' books illustrator or like a farmer who knows really

[deathberi]

can you please tag your self reblogs?

so you could block them? no

[cornflowercanine]

i just got may8e the 8est url on the entire planet universe 8ut i cant fucking 8rag a8out it 8ecause i plan to jump ship to entirely diff 8logs altogether. cries

[wikia]

hi sams roommate

i doubt they will see this unless they decide to look up my blog again....

[thinkingabout-girls]

I love it when I post fanart and someone who’s entire blog is dedicated to that one character likes/reblogs it. like it might seem not as special because that’s all they ever post about to me it’s even more special. like yeah I drew your little guy. add him to your collection

[gliptodon]

highest form of compliment, hands down 💘

[arctasy]

hi >:)

HELLO!! hru on this fine evening :D

[moondirti]

cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. you’re not enthusiastic but don’t hate it either? idk how to tag this

a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.

you’re no patriot. when you sign up, you aren’t doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, it’s a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you can’t feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone – it’s appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. you’d suspect it a scam if the url didn’t end in .gov.

they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ‘robust’ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.

that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and that’s the last you hear of it.

until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that you’ve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion – for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.

no one shows up.

not immediately, at least. gratefully – and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government – you’re paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.

but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.

at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you don’t miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, you’ve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartment’s a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. what’s more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering just below two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.

“who is it?” you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.

“lieutenant riley.”

oh.

you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. “you don’t look very military-like.”

“wha’ a shame.”

lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.

“hey! don’t they teach you manners in basic?”

“wouldn’ last a day if they did, pet.” he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes – shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.

this strange man is in your home.

this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.

he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight – and to make things exponentially worse, he isn’t uninvited. you brought this man here.

(which means you’ll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)

“your… your room is on the left.”

he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.

so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.

whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.

you call it hibernation because that’s what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadn’t shown face all day, wondering whether you’d be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.

the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.

not like he’s above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, you’d think they weren’t common courtesy.

of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, you’d gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isn’t blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.

“doyewmind?” you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down to–

riley shoots you a blank look. “no’ at all.”

then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.

the bar is in hell.

(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when you’re absolutely sure you’ve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)

it doesn’t take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night – heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party – to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.

[next]

[soundsofastar]

Just as Jesus christ revived on the third day

my laptop works again