#it will expand soon

[sleepire]

On the bat grind ig

I love love love Duke he's so yellow

[marxism-transgenderism]

Unbelievably annoyed with the protesting advice I see from the most out of touch lefties on here. "You always need to show up in all black and you ALWAYS have to leave your phone at home." 1 there are different kind of protests and you need to know what it will look like/what groups are organizing it and 2 you are going to get people fucking killed

[stickyjumping]

I can make it a series because I know my last one was really popular… probably will post the weekly mercs behavioral sheet…

[shellxrls]

hannah … u said u would probably physically fight w jj if u were in obx which same but now i’m thinking …. thinkin abt “play fighting” w bsf!jj …. and there’s loads of charged energy there …. lot of ass to crotch and giggling and teasing from jj mhm yup

HELLO ??!;);6 okay i confess i was thinking about play-fighting with bsf!jj turned to him pounding me while im headlocked in between those hot ass fucking arms of his 😓😓. and you’re idea is like.. spot on celeste omg.

─── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ───

being pushed around the thin mattress by his body weight, evidently stronger than you due to acquired muscle from years working in physical labour. his hips brush against the back of your ass, the seam of your crotch — gentle touches that seem to dissipate in fervor but grow in length as the pretence of ‘play-fighting’ soon begins to fall to deaf ears and heaving chests.

the stiffness in his shorts was difficult to let go by unnoticed, and as much as you attempted you couldn’t restrain the muffled noises of grated pleasure that would leave your pursed lips every time his body weight banged into yours, a heavy muscle catching your side or a stray hand wrapping around you.

“jayj,” you huff out, laboured pants puffing onto his face as you attempted to call a truce, “can we just— just pause for a minute, take a lil’ break?”

he thinks this means he’s won, the adrenaline getting him into a ditzy as he gets up all in your face, spittle visible as he starts intimidating you with a superficially pridefully interrogation, “oh you wanna take a break huh? j’s so strong you had to tap out little girl? that ‘t? no deal. i won this round fair and square sweetheart.”

and you’re laying beneath him in such utter shock, pouty bottom lip quivering due to a combination of adrenaline and fear induced arousal that for a minute he’s scared you might start crying.

that is until you align your face right with his, knocking knees and letting out a whispered, “please?”

and he knows, knows by the way your chest is rising in paced slopes, and by the way he can see your nipples hardening under the sheer fabric of your top. hell, he’s been your best friend for years, he’s known since you broke up with your most recent ex and came running into his arms for support. but he still asks “please what?”

and then you were done, blubbering out a string of indecipherable sex-fuelled pleads about how turned on you were, how you needed him.

and before jj could continue letting his best friend fall under so much duress, he bends you over the arm of the couch and strips you of your clothing, stuffing himself into your cunt so unexpectedly that you let out a wail, walls contracting around him at the initial sting of the intrusion.

─── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ───

[maliciousalice]

The Janeway Maneuver

[introcoryo]

political science major!coriolanus, whose idea of a night of unwinding is reading a chapter of machiavelli’s ‘the prince’ with a glass of pinot noir in hand. well versed in debate, often dramatically pulling out notecards with bullet points on them as you argue over where to have dinner.

nursing major!sejanus, who is well liked and trusted amongst his peers and professors, being known for a tenderness that you can only find in bob ross painting demonstrations. you help him study by quizzing him until dawn, a kiss for every correct answer energizing him more than any red bull could.

music performance major!lucy gray, always carrying around a honey burst colored guitar, her fingers absentmindedly strumming the air as she walks. she refers to you as her muse, and soothes you to sleep on rough nights with a hushed lullaby specifically written with confessions of love whittled between lyrics.

fashion design major!tigris, who fills out sketchbooks and sketchbooks with extravagant designs she someday hopes will hit the runway. she has appointed herself as your personal stylist, and kisses your temple as she gets your measurements for custom-made pieces.

[softerpixels]

a new season calls for new beginnings.

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *10*

It had been a relative uneventful day in Gotham, the new Week just started and most of the big rouges were still in Arkham after the last big breakout. And even tho the nightly patrol wasn't done, Batman send most of his charges that were still somewhat injured home. He, Orphan and Robin would be able to handle the rest.

They had stopped some muggings and one break-in by the time patrol officially ended. His children made their way back to the manor on their bikes, while the Bat made one last round through the docks.

He had a feeling of foreboding, not necessarily a bad feeling, but he was cautious. Even if Cassandra and Damian weren't hurt that badly, he still wanted them home. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he didn't had much time to think it over.

A swirling green Portal opened in front of him and a figure started to emerge from it. Bruce got into a fighting stance, his eyes trained on the unknown.

The Portal vanished after a young man, almost still a boy, stepped out of it. He had white hair that seemed to sway as if he was under water. Green freckles glowed in the dark, just a little muted in contrast to the vibrant green eyes. The boy - because the longer Bruce looked, the younger the being seemed - floated a few inches in the air. In his hands he held what looked like a type of thermos.

"You are Batman, right?", his voice seemed to echo a bit, even in this open space. Bruce just gave a little nod, still in his fighting stance. Just because the other seemed young, didn't mean he wasn't dangerous.

"Good, good... ahem... So my name is Danny or Phantom or Danny Phantom and I know this might come a bit suddenly, but a friend of mine - well more like my mentor - said that I was on the way for the best possible timeline and I think he really needs someone like you - you know with all those contingency plans - and a different dimension than ours and he is already 3 years in the thermos, well minus the bit he was out for a moment where Clockwork sat his Bodytime a bit back, so that he can have a childhood again, but that was like five minutes max. so that doesn't really count, because ha was also in timeout, so for him it was more like a few seconds, but ahem, what I wanted to ask you Mr. Batman, sir... Would you take my evil self from a different timeline, so that he can have a better childhood and maybe be not evil anymore?", Danny rambled and Batman really wished in this moment to have any of his children here, just to make sure that he did indeed hear correctly.

Even if everything had came out in one breath, the things he could piece together didn't paint the best picture. But it seemed like his brooding had taken to long, because the child folded into himself and started do fidget.

"I understand that you don't want to, you don't know me or Dan or anything about us, but you seemed to be the one most capable of handling him and I looked through so many dimension in the hope to find a good place for him... I can understand why he is like he is, but I will never be able to talk sense into him. His actions are unforgivable, but his timeline doesn't exist anymore, the things he done never happened and he is alone in a dimension that would just remind him of everything that happened if he would life with us... But I can totally just look into some more dimension if you don't want to! It's not your problem and I shouldn't have bothered, sorry!" Phantom started to raise his hand and a green line became visible where his finger cut through the air. If Bruce didn't do anything the being would go with a child that needed his help.

"I want a list with all his abilitis, his weaknesses, his potential triggers, dietary needs, allergies, a way to contact you, your mentor and a third trusted person in case of an emergency and a weekly check in system from your side", Bruce knew his kids would make fun of him when he brought another child home, but someone said he was the best possible guardian for this boy, so he would take him. And if he felt pleased about Danny's surprised and relieved face, than no one needed to know.

"Of course! I think Clockwork gave me a folder with everything!", the boy exclaimed, before he led the riff he started to open close, just to open another one. He seemed to rummage in the small Portal, until he showed him a folder full of papers. This would take a while to go through, but at least the boy was prepared.

[wonyopout]

wony cock. yes.

i just know she’s cums so much,, like an egregious amount. her tip just gushes precum at the lightest touches and when you really start jerking her off she’s coming in five minutes tops poor baby :(( but it’s ok bc her stamina is crazy and you can pull at least 4 more orgasms out of her before she gets too sensitive. she loves head so much, loves cumming all over your face and tits too hehe. she’s a lot stronger than she looks too so when she gets really into it she’ll just grab you by the hair and keep your head in place while she fucks your mouth at a (literally) breakneck pace 🤭 her pushing your head down till your nose bumps her pelvis has her cumming down your throat with a loud whine (wony is more of a whiner than a moaner i make the rules), and it’s so much that it’s leaking out the corners of your mouth. taking your mouth off her cock with a pop and she’s still hard 😵‍💫 wonyoung just looks at you all shy like, “y/n unnie.. i still need your help..”

[unknown-echo]

autism art yall

[robiinurheart33]

Haha wouldn’t it be so weird if when soap was taken and brainwashed he was constantly being compared to this soldier named “ghost” haha

Anyways explicit descriptions of psychological torture and violent intrusive thoughts under the cut

He would be beaten and berated constantly. why wasn’t he stronger than ghost, why wasn’t he faster, more skilled, better, stealthier, healthier.

Ghost could’ve done better in worse conditions.

Ghost has done better in worse conditions.

Why was soap not better even after all this?

It drove him up the wall, the way he would wonder who he was, seething and bleeding by the lip. After all that he’s gone though, all that he’s endured, everything.

Why wasn’t be better? Why can he never, ever be better?

They drove his sanity to the ground, spat and kicked at it until there was nothing but a shell of who he once was, and rebuilt it to fit their ideals. Soap couldn’t remember who he was before this, before the experiments. He couldn’t think, do, say anything without being ordered to do so by someone else.

Some days, soap would pull on the thin stripe down his scalp, eager to find some semblance of control over himself, even if it were pain. He would always get punished.

“It was the only thing he can and will recognise him by.”

“Ghost likes that on you.”

It made him hate the Mohawk even more.

He hates Ghost. He was sick of it. He was done waiting. He was done being compared to. He was done with being second to him. He wanted to pull him apart limb from limb, feel the hot blood spill over his teeth and he rips his throat apart, hear the sickening crunch of his neck being twisted, feel the smooth muscle of his skin ripple and tremble in fear of the one that he was supposedly supposed to be stronger than. Soap will never, ever get anything else in his life but the pure, white-hot rage of revenge. He maybe thinks this had lingered on since he was younger, before everything. It felt like an old friend, more so than his other emotions.

His first mission.

He will be better. He will be better. He will be the best. He will be good. This might be his only shot. This is. He will be the best. He will succeed. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail. He will not fail.

He runs into ghost.

At first, he didn’t know who he was. Soap was in a room with a few others, guns up and masks drawn, ready to shoot anyone who tries to come into the room. They had been infiltrated, and soap wasn’t told more than that. He didn’t really need to know more. Shoot the hostiles, keep people safe. Suddenly, bullets start to rain from outside the door, and soon enough, more and more bodies start hitting the floor. Soap does not panic. He hides behind a bookshelf, waiting.

A big ass motherfucker in a skull mask walks into the room and it looks like the shadows are warping to his presence. Soap does not panic. He reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh, flicking it up and holding it ready. He waits patiently until he stalks near the bookshelf, tightening his grip on the knife. They make eye contact, and through the skull mask stained with blood, he can see jet black eyes staring at him in shock. Death incarnate. Soap does not panic.

“Joh-”

Soap quickly slips out of his hiding spot, wrapping a forearm over his neck and attempting to jab the knife right into his socket. He feels a hand grip tightly onto his forearm, and he goes weightless. All the air escapes his lungs as his back slams against the floor, his head spinning. He screams at himself to get up, fight, be better, before he hears the familiar crackle of a radio.

“Ghost, how copy?”

Ghost.

This is Ghost.

Ghost just fucking flipped him.

Soap does not panic. He does not panic but he feels a chill go down his spine as he sees red, scrambling back up onto his feet. The adrenaline starts to kick in now, and he lunges at him, ripping the radio off his vest and slamming it on the floor. He’s not completely sure why he did that, but in all fairness soap feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind, if his captors haven’t done so already. He punches Ghost, wincing slightly as his knuckle hit the cheekbone corner of his stupid skull mask. Soap starts to reach for his gun before Ghost punches back, hitting the mask clean off his face, pushing his back to the floor, one hand on his wrists. Soap starts to get really agitated now. After everything that he’s gone through, he’s still not good enough to beat ghost. He still hasn’t improved. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He makes eye contact with Ghost and is slightly taken aback when he is reflected with an equally crazed stare.

“Johnny.”

What the fuck?

Soap doesn’t say anything. Ghost’s eyes are brown, not black. Why hasn’t be killed him yet? Why isn’t Soap struggling? Ghost has blonde eyelashes.

“Where have you been?” To soap’s absolute horror, those brown eyes start to become glossy. He flinches back as if he’s been hit, and grits his teeth. No shit, he’s been here the whole time, where else is he supposed to be?

Soap surges forward and headbutts him in hopes of him letting go. He doesn’t, and it makes soap all the more dizzier, more frustrated. Why isn’t he fucking dead already? He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to get his mind right.

“Johnny. Johnny.” Can he just shut the fuck up? It’s getting increasingly hard to concentrate for some reason. Shit. He feels overly exposed without the mask, feeling his body temperature rising steadily.

“Stop calling me that!” he growls out, twisting out of his grip and punching his across the face. The twisted skull mask looks almost comical out of place, but he can still see those eyes. Ghost’s hand comes to cup his cheek, and soap flinches back. His eyes look like Soap just mauled his puppy right in front of him. It makes him freeze in place, head awkwardly hovering between the floor and Ghost.

Images of blood spilling and needles, dirt and coffins fill his head, the sound of a neck snapping, gagging, screams and whimpers. Hands on him, eyes on him, never letting go. Stay. Soap snaps back into place, grabbing the mask and twisting it up, covering Ghost’s eyes. He quickly gets his other hand free and pushes ghost off him, sprinting out of the room.

“Wait-!” Is all he hears before flying down the corridor, back to safety, back to where it’s familiar, where he always is, where he always will be.

Loyalty has always been Soap’s best trait.

[migorify]

ill make new treehouse thrills comix soon guys trust me I'm just animating atm 🗣️🔥

[goldnhourwrites]

FUCK IT. HEARTSTEEL MAFIA AU

aphelios as a sniper and alune is his spy

kayn as a shadow magic assassin (with demonic assistance)

yone as the mastermind behind their plans

sett as 300 pounds of pure muscle

k'sante as a one-man army if ANYTHING goes wrong

ezreal as a charismatic rogue

[thankyouforthememoriesworld]

By the way, I'm going to talk about her when I return

[jils-things]

happy mothers day to my first and best momma concept ever designed 💚💚

[elfsyellowflowerzart]

take two of yesterdays little doodle, using the ref this time