#old old draft

[sappy-detective]

i was recently talking to my friend about stuff we did and i was just thinking of DICE. i think dice is a silly little friend group who does silly (slightly illegal) things in the name of fun. some things likeee

smashing a shop window

spitting in condoms and throwing them at peoples cars or shops they hated in winter so they would freeze over (gross but sue me it’s kinda funny)

don’t dong ditch

spray painting buildings

throwing bags and bags of sugar into u settled concrete so it wouldn’t dry

stealing signs off streets as decoration

they also have a car seat in their back yard because.. they do

this is all loosely based off the HC that they all are not related and they got kick out of their house for whatever reason and ouma just started picking them up and let them live with him in a abandoned house they probably got from squatters rights or something. think punk house if the punk houses had a little more order.

how fun!! here r some stories from me because why not? you can probably tell where i live from this story but.. a few years ago someone dumped an alligator in our local pond, river, lake thingy and it was in the news and it was kind of an ‘attraction’ for a while until animal control got the gator out. they had signs warning about it and me and my mom thought it was the coolest thing so we grabbed it. along with other signs and stuff we have in our home (one still attracted to the pole, so, fun). spitting in (UNUSED) condomes and throwing them is totally not NOT okay but it’s funny so. where i live there’s just car seats that have been ripped from the car and left on the side of the road, some in a ditch, which i would go to and smoke when i skipped. don’t smoke kids please. the rest are things my friend/step mom has done and i think they’re funny sooooo

[autisticqueenorder]

[cupcakes-are-ours]

the sibs are bickering agaaaiiinnn

[moechies]

“shit, this pussy’s damn tight, girl.” toji chuckles, leaned against the wooden headboard of his mattress, with your pretty cunt impaled on his dick. you’re sat upon the man’s lap, back slumped into his bigger body as he lifts your legs to your chest with a singular arm.

“hnn—! thank y-you, thank you, thank you !” you slur, holding onto the man’s bigger arm for leverage as he pumps his cock against your cunt, your round butt slapping against his pelvis.

“tch,” he smirks, “thank you? haven’t heard that one b’fore.” his thrusts come to a slow, leaving you breathless and dazed. you lay back against the man’s chest as he continues lazy but brutal pumps to your poor cunt, pushing against him in an attempt to get him to slow.

“hnn.. ‘m sorry..” you cry out, embarrassed, face growing flushed as your nose scrunches at the memory of a few seconds prior.

toji can’t help but fall into a short fit of laughing at your adorable innocence, soft lips curled into a mean smirk, “‘s alright, sweet thing. yer so polite, hm?” he taunts, pressing a weighted kiss against your lips. you slip your tongue against his before you lose the chance, pressing your face closer to the man’s touch.

“y’take cock like a naughty brat, though.” he whispers in between a breath.

his sloppy tongue overrules yours, slowly but surely swallowing you whole. he peeks through a sliver of his eye, watching you pant into his mouth with your eyes squeezed tight, drool leaking down your chin, so entirety focused on kissing him back. “toji—“ you mewl.

“ya started it,” he mumbles against your swollen lips, giving your cunt a soft slap. you jerk and cry against his hold, pushing the said assaulting hand away, making him giggle. “what a dumb little thing.”

“please ! ‘m gonna c-cum! toji, please, please—“ you cry as his thrusts get harder, pace becomes sloppier, before it all comes to an abrupt stop.

your pants slow, gentle mewls that leave your lips as you begin to fall into a fit of sobs. “no..” toji breaks a grin, petting against your hair whispering sweet praises, “‘m sorry doll, daddy’s tired. let me have a break, yeah?” he adores how you look up to him with bleary eyes, chest full of pained hiccups as you attempt to bounce yourself atop his cock in your position. “..w-wanna cum!”

“don’t be so selfish, sweet thing. ‘m old, ‘s what ya get for hangin’ around me.” he lies through his teeth. pace slowly resuming. his creamy, slicked up cock causes his thrusts to grow in noise, face flushing at the evidence of the use of your poor cunt.

“daddy —!”

“shhh, settle down and let daddy focus, yeah?” he mumbles breathlessly against the shell of your ear, “or else daddy might get too tired.. and won’t be able to finish ya off.” he sighs.

[yaolmao]

tell your baby that i’m your baby

[caemidraws]

---

[povoti]

Some Cater

[imjusthella-gay]

to be taking a bath with a girl and playing with her tits and kissing her neck. hearing how she falls apart from my touch. maybe my hand will slip under the water and play with her clit just so i can hear her moans echo off the bathroom walls, who knows.

[snarkspawn]

quick redraw of a super old thing from ages ago

[rachmcadams]

Notorious (1946) dir. Alfred Hitchcock

[lostinmycolor]

his touches are gentle. he's a strong man, a lot stronger than you. he could easily toss you around like a ragdoll, squeeze you, spank you. he does sometimes, when you beg so nicely with that sweet voice of yours. because how could he ever say no to you? but most times, he's gentle. he prefers it that way. he handles you like you're made of porcelain, like you'll crumble in his hands if he's a little too rough

his voice is gentle too. it's deep, the timbre strong enough to reverberate through your bones. but he only speaks this softly around you. you deserve to be spoken to like this. you're such a good girl for him, he could never raise his voice at you, even if he were upset. he'd live with a guilty conscious for the rest of his life if he did that.

his breathing is heavy from sudden the absence of the friction as he stops to adjust your position, chest rising and falling vigorously as he wraps his fingers around one of your ankles, carefully lifting it over his shoulder, his free hand gently holding your other leg down against the mattress. you protest softly, wanting him to keep going, and he smiles fondly at the sound of your needy whine.

“i know sweetie, i know,” he says softly, soothingly rubbing your leg that’s now draped onto his shoulder before continuing his gentle ministrations, his hips lightly bumping against yours, the light sound of your bodies colliding joining the sound of your labored breathing and soft moans.

his touches are gentle, just like his love. his love is soft, gentle—quiet, but in a way that speaks volumes. his love is perfect, like when you hear a song that perks up your ears, or eat a food that you were craving for so long. it’s perfect, like when he angles his hips just right to hit that spot inside of you that makes your eyes rolls back, your back arch off the bed. it’s just what you need.

he leans down to wrap an arm around your torso, lifting you in a way that makes your lower abdomen touch his with every thrust, the warmth of his body closer against yours making your skin prickle, and you can’t help the way you instinctively push your hips up to meet his, every movement making the sensation more intense.

you’re perfect to him too, especially when you’re like this—pressing your thigh against his hip more firmly, writhing and mewling so sweetly under him as you feel yourself starting to tip over the edge, so close to falling into that abyss of bliss, closer to reaching the high you’re so desperately craving.

there’s really no love purer than his, you realize, as he gently grabs your face, making you look up at him, his fingers holding your jaw firmly but not enough to cause any type of discomfort. you realize it when he looks straight into your eyes as he spills into you, that final thrust he gives you enough to finally tip you over that edge, a soft “that’s my girl” leaving his lips as he watches you succumb to the pleasure. you realize it when he leans down to place the softest kiss against your lips, and you feel how his own lips curl into a tender smile as he does so.

there is and never will be a love purer than his.

[cozylittleartblog]

New Family Speedrun 00:09.12 (World Record Not Clickbait???)

[communistkenobi]

I believe it was the work of legal scholar Florence Ashley where I first encountered this term (it might have also been Serano), but I’m becoming more and more committed to saying “degender” as opposed to “misgender.” like I think the term ‘misgender’ fails to properly identify the mechanism behind the process it describes: misgendering is not an act of attributing the wrong gender characteristics to a trans person, it is an act of dehumanisation. I think the term ‘misgender’ especially gives people much easier rhetorical cover to argue that trans women are hurt by misandry by being ‘mislabeled as men,’ or that they are in fact ‘actually men’ and benefit from male privilege, because the (incorrect) assumption underlying this is that when trans women are ‘misgendered’ they are being treated like men - to follow this line of thinking to its natural conclusion, this denies the existence of transmisogyny altogether, because any ‘misgendering’ of trans women is done only with the intent, conscious or otherwise, to inscribe the social position (and the privileges this position affords) of men onto them, as opposed to stripping them of their womanhood (and thus, their humanity).

The term degendering, however, I think more accurately describes this dehumanising process. Pulling from the work of both Judith Butler and Maria Lugones, gender mediates access to personhood - Lugones says in the Coloniality of Gender that in the colonial imaginary, animals have no gender, they only have (a) sex, and so who gets ‘sexed’ and who gets ‘gendered’ is a matter of who counts as human. She describes this gendering process as fundamentally colonial and emerging as a colonial technology of power - who is gendered is who gets to be considered human, and so the construction of binary sex is a way of ‘speciating’ or rendering non-human the Indigenous and African people of colonized America, justifying and systematising the brutal use of their land and/or their labour until their death by equating them to animals. Sylvia Wynter likewise describes in 1492: A New World View that a popular term used by Spanish colonizers to describe the indigenous people was “heads of Indian men and women,” as in heads of cattle. By the same token, white men are granted the high status of human, worthy of governance, wealth, and knowledge production, and white women are afforded the subordinate though still very high responsibility of reproducing these men by raising and educating children. Appeals to a person’s sex as something more real, more obvious, or ‘poorly concealed’ by their gender is to deny them their gender outright, and therefore is a mechanism to render them non-human. Likewise, for Butler, gender produces the human subject - to be outside gender is to be considered “unthinkable” as a human being, a being in “unliveable” space.

Therefore the process of trans women going from women -> “male” is not “being gendered as a man,” it is being positioned as non-human. when people deny the gender of trans women, most especially trans women of colour, they invariably do this through reference to their genitals, to their ‘sex,’ as something inescapable, incapable of being concealed - again, this is not a process of rendering them as men, it is the exact opposite: it is a process of rendering them as non-human. there is not a misidentification process happening, they are not being “misgendered as men,” there is a de-identification of them as human beings. Hence, they are not misgendered, they are degendered, stripped of gender, stripped of their humanity

[auriidae]

ethubs adventure pt 2: midwestern escapades via amtrak :3

[gongyussy]

bonus:

[girlboyburger]

had an identity crisis, prime time for a slight sona redesign!

it's cow! (again!)

+ a closeup because i'm really proud of the eyes