#istg this poor man

[bisexualchaosdemon]

Okay, but, the final chapter of trk? Wymack's pov? I have thoughts.

Firstly, can you imagine how much Wymack must have absolutely SHAT HIS PANTS when Neil called? Out of no where, after two weeks completely unreachable, Neil "I'm fine" Josten calls and says he is, in fact, not fine. Going to give the poor man a heart attack!

Really, think about it though. Sure, Neil is cagey and has an obvious mouth on him, but when Wymack signed him he thought it was a simple(ish) case of abusive parents. Then the team says that Neil suddenly decided to go home to said parents and he proceeds to completely disappear for two weeks? Only to call Wymack for a lift, with his voice shot to fuck from screaming so much?

But the fucking whiplash doesn't stop there, no! Wymack pulls up to see Neil, battered and bruised and fucking ginger?! The contacts are gone too and apparently his eyes are blue– just, what the hell happened?

Like he completely crumbles at the sight of his own face and, if that isn't enough to concern Wymack, Riko Moriama's brand is on his face? And this tiny, 5'3", punk ass, little dipshit completely flips his SHIT and tries to cut his own face off???? What the fuck is going on????????

Then, finally — Finally he admits he needs help and Wymack gets him to calm down but oops! taking off his shirt only raises more questions! Abby hadn't said a word, of course, and Wymack misinterpreted Neil's exchange with Andrew in Columbia and Neil only said he pulled his stitches. Sure, he might have suspected something was going on with Neil's refusal to change out with the others but not this! Knife wounds and half a side torn off by asphalt– someone shot him?! Was that, fuck, was that hot iron scarred into his shoulder? Just what in the fuck happened to this kid?

Now he has even more questions than he started with! And, just to throw in another curveball, Neil "I don't drink and will pay someone to knock me out and hitchhike home when forced to" Josten throws back whisky like it's nothing! And just– what? They couldn't got to the hospital? They couldn't afford to slow down? They couldn't have people asking questions? Just what the shit is this kid mixed up in? And, who in the fucking fuck is this elusive 'we'?!

This wasn't just some abused kid! How the hell had Wymack miscalculated this hard? Who in the hell is Neil Josten?!

Well, Wymack guesses he'll find out when the season is over. Until then, he'll just continue to be Neil "gives me a fucking heart attack" Josten.

[hoomanbeaning]

"... some are very old now 🫦, most are dead 💅🏻, some we 🏳️‍🌈 simply drained for sport 😼 ... well 🤪 ... generally ME! 🥰 ... "

*homosexuals 🙄

[themintman]

drawing from last night I did to test my new pens 😋😋

I did that one (probably dead) art trend and OUGH HOW DID I DO THAT. WHAT THE FUCK

[ineed-to-sleep]

It honestly baffles me that some people are so casually dismissive of animals' feelings. Istg some ppl only see pets like toys and are barely able to hide it

[milksuu]

i need Phel w like… a bad bitch reader… the kinda girl her fans would ask her to step on them… and i need him to be completely whipped and submissive for her

❥ prompt: So, here Aphelios was. Dragged to some grungy underground concert by Kayn. And since Ezreal was sick, guess that made him the stand in. He thought he was going to be bored out of his mind. He didn't realize he'd end up being a fanboy---your fanboy. ❥ content/warnings: nsfw 18+, minor blood, BDSM, name calling, bullying (affectionate), lotsa profanity, dom!reader ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!aphelios x badbitch!f!reader, aphelios & kayn ❥ performance song in this fic: Playground (From the Arcane League of Legends Series) - Bea Miller

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

That was one way to start a conversation, Aphelios thought. Usually, when a girl approached him, they were overly friendly and tooth-rottlingly sweet. To a sickening point at times. Too much was overwhelming for him, and he often got migraines from those interactions. He disliked the feeling of needing to reciprocate with the same intensity and niceties. He wasn't like Ezreal, who could entertain for hours with a charming smile and endless conversation. But this was the first time any girl cursed him out within the first millisecond of an exchange. Honestly, it was refreshing. And honestly, he kind of liked it.

He took a moment to look over his shoulder to check if, by chance, you were talking to someone else. He figured he was the only one out in the alleyway. And because of that, he couldn't recall staring at anyone. Although, he did tend to have a bad habit of 'resting bitch face'. Especially whenever he stared off into space. Just so happened to be in your general direction. He wasn't sure whether to call it bad luck or bad timing. Like the whole 'wrong place wrong time' situation. Either way, it was obvious his face and mere existence was pissing you off.

"I'm talking to you, dumbass. You with the stupid fucking headphones at a concert." Flicking your cigarette away, you encroached into his personal space. It forced him against a wall, with you mere inches away from his face. He could smell the burning smoke on your breath, lingering with a hint of spice and clove. "You got a problem, or what? If you do, then say it to my damn face."

That was comical. How could he tell you? Let's see, he reached to take his phone out. You scuffed and snatched it from his hands. "What the hell are you going to do? Call your mommy to come help you?" You mocked him by dangling his cell in his face. So much for that idea. Now what was he supposed to do? He needed to create some distance. Catch you off guard, and for you to react accordingly. Well, with all things considered. He tugged down his mask, and captured your lips. Red ignited your vision. You sank your canines viscously into his bottom lip and smashed his phone against his chest. He tasted liquid metal on his tongue, and felt the reset of his diaphragm. It took a deathly minute for him to fill his chest with air. He swore even if he could talk, that stunt would've shut him up for life. So, yeah. More or less what he expected.

"You sick freak." With a hiss, you spat a mixture of saliva and blood at his shoe. He watched you storm off, fading back into the dark venue and strobing lights. Leaving him with iron in his mouth, yearning for oxygen, and his heart recklessly pounding inside him. And holy shit, did he want more of it.

"What the hell. Did something happen out there?" When he returned Kayn took hold of his shoulder, and spoke at the side of his face. "There's blood on your mask. Do I need to kick somebody's ass here?" Aphelios didn't consider how badly his lip had been busted by your teeth. The pain was subtle compared to the wild thrill he received. And whenever he felt the sting with a brush of his tongue, the thought of you only came to mind. He shook his head, pantomiming how he bit into his own lip by accident. Kayn scrunched his face, but accepted the excuse by taking a long swig of his drink. When the lights dimmed, Kayn smacked at his chest excitedly. Aphelios almost bent over from the aching bruise you left against his sternum. "It's happening. LET'S FUCKING GO!"

The crowd shook the warehouse with roars. Fog spilled across the stage. Red lights poured down. And there you were. Like Hell's chosen ascendent, bound in black leather and succubus fashion. Your voice induced a hypnotism. The lights strobing with each bass beat of your song. The crowd spellbound, wailing and screaming for you to salvage them. But you were their obvious harbinger who would drag them straight to the pits of the underworld. Where they could never escape you. Forever trapped in your playground. And that's exactly where he wanted to be.

Going wide-eyed, Aphelios felt you within in his pulse. His bottom lip throbbing endlessly. He wasn't expecting to have a good time. He wasn't expecting you. He watched as you strutted to the end of the stage, planting your eight-inch heels against the faces of a few audiences members begging to be crushed. He could tell you had no problem delivering them pain, just as you did with him. He never understood the sensation, until tonight.

When the song ended, the crowd settled down for you to say a few words. Swinging your hair out of your mascaraed lashes, you took a swig from your water bottle. "You know guys. I love that you're all here. Thanks for coming out to see me. Feels awesome, really." You breathed heavily into the microphone. "But there's one person I want to give a special shout out to—for being an absolute fucking dickhead. Lights. Over there. Please and thank you." With a snap of your fingers, you pointed straight out into the crowd. Apehlios might as well had a gun pointed to his head. That finger burned a straight hole into his forehead. A spotlight swung over him, until it beamed down like his final day of reckoning.

Kayn snapped his neck going back and forth between you two. He then snatched his elbow, shaking him ruthlessly. "Wait. You're telling me I have to kick her ass? You know—my future fucking girlfriend?" Aphelios noticed there were a lot of fucks to be had with him tonight.

"Yeah. You. Still wearing those dumbass headphones. Tell your pink-haired girlfriend he can't save you. Because your mine after the show tonight." You signaled for the next song to come on, and the crowd went into a tidal wave of screams and wails.

"How the hell am I the girlfriend!?" Kayn yelled into the abyss of concert noise. "And what does my future wife want with you!?" Aphelios merely shrugged. But when his bottom lip pulsed again....he knew exactly what he was getting from you.

"Since you felt like you had the balls to kiss me, I should take them from you. See you try pulling that shit again."

That was one way to flirt with him, Aphelios thought. And he was being liberal with the definition. Threats against his privates never appealed to him before. But when those threats poured from your lips, they sounded like all the things he ever wanted to hear in his whole damn life. Up till now, everything felt rehearsed, repetitive, predictable-- mind numbingly boring. But with you, that wasn't going to be the case. That was obvious by his placement in your hotel room. Hands secured above his head, back arched, and wrists bound by leather stirrups hanging from the ceiling.

"You have one of the bitchiest faces I've ever seen. Bitchier than mine, maybe." The room was dark. He carefully eyed your silhouette approaching him. Aphelios swallowed hard when your hand took his balls in a choke hold. "Let's see how long it takes for me to break it. And if I can't..." With a quick release, you ran the length of a finger up his stiffening shaft. "I'll let you fuck me. Deal?"

Aphelios shuddered an exhale, nodding slowly. This was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever have to pull off...no pun intended. Assessing his own threshold, he knew he might not make it. But to any dog, a treat was still a treat. And he would take what he could get get. Or in this case, earn.

"I'll tell you how this is going to work." Your fingers left his tip, trialed up his stomach, till they rested in the middle of his bare chest. "If you want to tap out, make this sign with your left hand. Got it?" You singed one hand, while the other pressed into that lovely bruise you gifted him in the alleyway. The ache elicited a soft groan. "I asked if you got it." You pressed harder for confirmation. With a rattle in his restraints, he made the gesture. "Good. Looks like you're not a total dumbass."

Abandoning him briefly, he heard something crack in the dark. The scent of leather permeating the hotel air. He felt the material grace his back side, fluttering to his ass. One tap. Two tap. This was his only and final warning. If he wanted out, now was the time. He furrowed his brow, and licked his aching bottom lip. No—he wanted this. A whip to the air and the first strike landed. His whole body contracted as he held back a gasp. Settling to a low groan, it wasn't long till the next one came, then the next, and the next. Every strike hitting and harder. The crop whistling in his ears each time it came for his bare ass and thighs. His breaths turned sharp, sweat accumulated against his pale skin, and his fingers scratched the insides of his palms. After the 50th strike, his ass and thighs were on fire. But all those hormones produced to cope with the pain began to inch him into a subspace he had never reached before. Not to mention, all the hand strokes and squeezes to his dick in between the pain— it was absolutely mind fucking.

"Wow. I'm impressed. You've lasted longer than any of my other toys. You really are a sick freak." Arousal mixed with your half-talk and half-laughter. This was the first time anyone has earned you. And now, you were going to make him wish he'd never met you. "Are you ready to fuck the cum right out of you?"

Holy shit. Thank God he couldn't talk. Nothing would be making sense if he could. Wait, what did you ask him again? No, seriously. He couldn't think straight. The excessive amounts of oxytocin pumping into his brain diluted all his thoughts. When he didn't respond right away, you snatched his face, digging your nails into his cheeks. "I asked you a question, dumbass." That was quickly becoming his favorite insult. You dragged your lips, tongue and teeth across his busted lip. Hypersensitive at this point, that was almost enough to send him. Focus—shit—okay. He remembered, and nodded desperately between your breathy open-mouthed kisses.

He was lucky the bed was behind him. Once he was freed from his restraints, it didn't take much but a finger push from you for him to collapse back. The cold comforters contrasted his burning skin, almost like he dived into an ice bath. He really had this sense he was burning up. Woozy from all the endorphins and adrenaline pumping through him, all the way down to his twitching cock—begging for release. But he felt stuck in a bodily stasis, an erotic paralysis. All he could do was stare up at the melting ceiling, panting for breaths. "You're not fucking anything like this. Awe, what a shame." There was no remorse in your wicked smile as you removed your undergarments. "Deals off. Looks like I'm fucking you instead." He barely processed the meaning of your words until you straddled on top, pushed one of his thighs up, and plunged yourself down on him.

The shock of you taking his whole cock in one swift motion made him choke out a cry of ecstasy. Each of your thrusts were splitting him in two; one of pain and pleasure. His ass and thighs stinging and swelling with heat form all the welts you left on his skin. Rubbing against the cotton covers, rubbing against you. His dick swallowed and squeezed by your pounding cunt, over and over again. With the sound of your drenched pussy slapping hard against his base. He was dragged to an intoxicating edge. To a point where his eyes glossed over pleadingly, his face flushed and saliva streamed from the corners of his trembling mouth. "There it is. Finally broke that bitchy face of yours," he heard you moan, mocking how much of a shameful mess he was.

One more forceful slam of your tight warmth, and pleasure ripped through him, tearing him into unmendable pieces. Every single vein within his body tightened and coiled. Flushing all his insides hot and white. His cock pulsed and throbbed so deep inside you. He cried against his moans, heaving and shuddering. He prayed he would make it through his climax. Lucky for him, he did. Unlucky for him, you weren't finished, and were milking him for all he was worth. The tip of his dick feeling like pins a needles, forcing his back to arch and buck his hip against the extreme sensation. He vaguely heard you curse him out one more time as your walls clamped around him, pushing some of his load down his shaft and onto his pelvis. When the two of you settled, he shivered as you pulled yourself out and reached over him to take something from the nightstand.

"So—" You started, lighting a smoke and taking a long drag. The scent of clove and spice filling the space. "You free or what next week?" Well, that was one way to ask him on a date, Aphelios thought. Not that he needed much convincing to free up his schedule. He considered himself a fanboy—your fanboy.

an: you wanted a bad bitch anon, you got her. thanks for the req. MWUAH.

[benadrylcandlewhack]

During school today I was thinking about the scene where Gwen's dad pulls a gun on her and the actual gravity of that situation is wild

She has no other friends or family, as far as we know (her mom certainly isn't in the picture)

She already had a warrant out for her arrest as Spider-Woman

Her father, aka the guy nost dedicated to arresting Spider-Woman, learns of her identity and demonstrates that he's 100% capable of and willing to hurt her. Hell, who knows what would've happened if Jess and Miguel hadn't intervened

Now, following this, regardless of if she had gone with them or not, there would be a warrant out for her arrest as Gwen Stacy

Where the FUCK is she supposed to go

Obviously she can't hide with her dad

She doesn't have any other friends

MAYBE she could hide out with May and Ben, but it's more than likely they believe that Peter was killed by Spider-Woman

Now that they know Gwen is Spider-Woman, who's to say they wouldn't turn her in to the cops if she showed up at their house?

This isn't like MCU Peter who had Aunt May and MJ and Ned and Happy and Matt Murdock when he was accused of killing Mysterio

Her choice in that situation was either leave for relative safety or stay and become a criminal

[emry-stars-art]

now rhat we're in hot jean autumn (aka the announcement of tsc) would you ever focus on jean's arc more in the royal au?

I have had PLENTY of thoughts about jean in the royal au ahhhhh and yes naturally most of them are angst but also. I do regularly smile to myself about jean becoming a fine metalworker and making incredible delicate jewelry and sending a few pieces as thanks/friendship/courting to Renee, take your pick the reasons (she loves them, they go on all her outfits right beside Allison’s ribbons in her hair) because of these tags that I still think about occasionally

And then the day prince/king Jeremy Knox is suddenly struck with the realization that he HAS seen this man before, despite Jean’s protests, going like “!!! Jean? Jean Moreau?? You can’t be, you’re - you’re taller!!” Because he was so used to seeing a younger, more terrified, less healthy Jean from across halls and grand dining tables at various summits between all the neighboring kingdoms. Little Evermore attendant Jean Moreau and decently-practiced Trojan blacksmith Jean Moreau are VASTLY DIFFERENT BEASTS

But lest I let you go without some angst, I do have thoughts (see: screenshots of a snippet) on Jean and Nathaniel’s relationship when they are both younger still in Evermore below the cut

Find the royal au masterpost here 💕

(Anyway also thank you @knickknacksandallthat so very much for the tags up there) 🥰

[spookuzm]

please please please please can i- I need I uh I can I uhh me I uh I can I can-c-can I uhhhhhh I dhdodhoydihc6ieciyxxgvgif8tvhk

AGGRESSIVE SOBBING /pos

uh, k-kid?! why are ya crying? did i do something wrong? do ya need help??

[thetangibleghost]

Core memory for me is one time on club penguin I meet a guy and we dueled in the dojo for like Hours. We were a perfect match like I'd win some he'd win some. We played so long that when I accidentally clicked out of the game the room that had been almost empty before was so crowded that it glitched the server and all I saw before I got kicked was him futally saying a shortened version of my username from deep in the crowd. I couldn't even go back in the server cause it was full. Literally still sends a shiver down my spine. I have dreams of making a viral tiktok and finding him one day. Idk what we'd do. Maybe a winter wedding.

[ghost-bard]

Oh this is not what. I thought was gonna happen.

My original thought was that it was still Juanaflippa was the same egg, but fragmented and maybe a bit of an amnesiac, but still her.

But this stream makes me think that the codes are just. Using q slimes grief and unstableness as a way to get information about the eggs and the federation. And hes letting her. Because he is so sad and just wants his daughter back, even though deep down he knows this isnt her.

If this keeps happening, Juanaflippa having q slime do questionable things so she can do what she wants, and get the info she wants, eventually i really think that q slime wont ever get better, wont ever move one, and at this point who could even help him get out of the situation?

Those that are closest to him arent there to help him.

Q mariana hasnt been on since the eggs went missing and came back at the orphanage

Q quackity doesnt remember anything, and we know he specifically doesnt remember tilín, juanaflippa, or slime (one of the pics he was shown upon coming back was specifically them)

Q philza is only worried about finding the eggs (its been a min since i watched a full philza qsmp stream but from ive gathered that seems to be true), and doesnt even know whats real anymore bc of the federation messing w him

Q wilbur hasnt been on in months, and who knows if theyll even be on at the same time when he does come back at some point

Hes alone, constantly being mocked for things that werent his fault, and in a consistent downword spiral, and whenever he takes a step forward hes pushed 20 feet back.

The code (as juanaflippa) is going to use him until hes no longer of use, and break an already broken man beyond the point if return (which you could make an argument that hes already past that point)

I really. Really hope someone helps him. Even though today was mostly wholesome and silly, i dont think it’ll stay that way for too much longer.

[devilsainz]

bro did not let it slide for carlos 💀 x

[ironunderstands]

sampo person has returned but for a different character- opinion on kamisato ayato?

ooh I haven’t thought about that man in a while hmm

honestly I like him a lot, I think he has a really nice vibe but I wish more of his screentime was actually dedicated to him, and his story quest was a massive letdown, I think Genshin fumbled a bit on his execution, but I really like the ideas behind him

also his face is pretty

[danisnotonphire]

i just. imagine your wife obsessively stalking the new neighbor, and that neighbor comes to your house and yells at you about your lawn and confesses his love for your wife. then he becomes an evil scientist and uses his science ray gun to transform items in your house until he starts a fire and runs away. then that neighbor clones your wife. that’s the life of bob pancakes

[mochatheangelkiller]

Keep seeing spoilers for Gotham War and I do not like the implications of what I'm seeing

[ileftherbackhome]

um i don't mean this in like a bad way. like you're obviously allowed to like taylor swift but calling her out on her behavior is not sexist. she literally wrote a bunch of songs about being in love with a racist misogynist and made a music video romanticizing asylums. i'm not saying she's a bad person and i like some of her music but it's not sexist to criticize her or her lyrics.

This is truly the pissing on the poor website, for fuck's sake.

Please show me where I have ever claimed it's sexist to "call taylor out on her behavior." I have REPEATEDLY said that LYING about what taylor's lyrics actually say is sexist and that is my ENTIRE argument, you fucking moron.

Show me where in the song "I hate it here" taylor swift states that she wants to live in the 1830s and is ignorant of how horrible this time period was to women and black people because that is all I am fucking talking about, you dumbass.

It is in fact sexist to LIE about what a woman is saying in order to justify your hatred for said woman. y'all annoying as shit man

[wrixie]

my next door neighbor was just arrested lol