#pepperoni the horse

[unclefathersantateddy]

What's your favorite obscure ship for Bob’s?

Little King Trashmouth and his Husband Gary

Frond and Cassie (I like that we never met Cassie but she had sUch an impact on Frond)

Frond and Ambrose*

Frond and Gayle*

Gayle and Yap*

(*I am not opposed to this being a chaotic polycule)

Jericho, Varico & Pepperoni

Gene and that mf keyboard

Bob and the Butcher (Tony's ex)

Honestly the Butcher and Tony I hope they made it work

Bob and Lance (turkey)

Mr Stieblitz & Sasha's single aunt

Cotton Candy Dan and Sally the Snowcone Lady (this has the potential to be in the FM!au)

Mickey and The Nose (I just want a carnie duo tbh)

Felix Fischoeder and Fanny (really enjoy their subversive dynamic)

Finally I've been impartial on TedMort in the fanon, HOWEVER, I've been thinking about the Fresh Meat au recently and I like the idea of "morted". The same duo but plays with the FM!au dynamic subversion.

I.e. as Mort supplies the restaurant with Fresh Meat™, and Teddy is the store's main/only customer, they end up in a (subverted from canon) Toxic, Enabling relationship. Where Mort essentially uses Teddy's Pica to dispose of evidence/remains. But that's still in early development!

[giffypudding]

Just horsin' around

[pastafossa]

i can’t get over the fact that you have a PET SNAKE 😭 THAT RANDOMLY CRAWLS AROUND YOUR ROOM MAAM THAT IS A NIGHTMARE that is scarier than the man in the white coat 😭😭😭😭😭

If it helps I feel the same way about a friend's tarantulas, although she doesn't really let them out for exploratory/enrichment 'walks' like I do with Pepperoni. So from Camp Arachnophobia to you, I totally get it. 😂 I honestly have no idea why snakes don't bother me! I lose my shit instinctively if I see a bee or a spider, like I will absolutely pull an Old Cartoon lady thing and leap up onto a table (I once had a bee fly by and for some reason I flung my purse in the air like I was facing a bear and sprinted away across the parking lot, cue dad shouting 'IT'S NOT ROBBING YOU, WHY DID YOU THROW YOUR PURSE'), but I can happily chill with Pepperoni around my neck or slithering around whatever obstacle course in the room I put him on. Brain just sees a snake and goes 'hello boopy noodle, hello blepblep friend'. Roughly half my friends are in the same boat, like GREAT CAN I HOLD RONI and the other half are like PASTA CAN YOU... LIKE... PUT A BLANKET OVER HIM SO I DON'T SEE HIM AT YOUR HOUSE???

The good news is I am absolutely the person to call if you have one of those, '5 million behind this door made of snakes, what do you do???' things. Or if there are rats. I like rats, had one of THOSE as a pet too! And mice! !AND LIZARDS. OR BATS. But not bats cause I like them but they might have rabies.

No bugs though, you're on your own. I TOO WOULD FIGHT THE MAN IN THE WHITE COAT BEFORE A TARANTULA.

[boombhauer]

pepperoni pony!

[wanderinguteruspress-blog]

ALWAYS MORE COWBOYS IS BEAT COWBOYS

Disaster twins on horSES??? Why yes indeed. Leo's mare is Lady Pepperoni and Donnie's stallion is Cryptic Code.

If you'd like to commission me, don't hesitate to ask!

[dirty-c0yot3]

therian tips! (food)

so, I CRAVE raw meat a lot even though I can't eat it :( BUT I have compiled a list of foods that beings with human bodies can't eat (or just prefer not to), but that most animals eat that I could translate to human foods :D

worms = gummy worms :3 if you want them to be slimy like real worms, you could put water or a thin layer of oil on them

little insects = raisins or chia seed pudding (thank you to @puddin-dear 😌)

bigger insects = you could prob eat plain chips, I think it would have the same crunch affect. or chippers! (chocolate covered potato chips)

carrion (dead animal flesh) = jerky or bacon!! (ty @silverfoxboy for the bacon one!)

raw meat = meat sticks (I believe you can get them in beef or turkey) or raw pepperoni (you can get it small bags). suggested by @avocados019, salami :3, and commented by @horse-wisteria 😅 prosciutto (which I honestly forgot was a thing 😭) and multiple beings have said salmon and I keep forgetting about salmon 😭

mice = marshmallow mice (credits to @ink-man-sam )

kibble = cereal (I think most of you know that though) or for something softer- gnocchi! (Suggested by @emberslimehunts )

treats = Scooby snacks!

Snacks:

Go-gurt (if you freeze them, they're really good!)

nut bars, such as Nutri grain or Kind (good protein/energy + tasty)

Chex mix

assorted nuts/trail mix

smoothies!

(I have updated this a lot)

Have fun!

[horseimagebarn]

horse with its head dipped in shame as it laments the entire pizza pie that has been placed upon its back the pizza is of the pepperoni variety and the horse is of the small variety which perhaps why this horse seems so upset as smaller horses and other creatures are often not taken as seriously as large beasts hence why there is a full pizza on our friend heres back such is the frivolity of humanity that we decide to place random foodstuffs upon our animal allies

[upsidedownwithsteve]

A Couple Days In (I Call You Baby) CH2.

Modern!Steve Harrington x fem!reader [6.8K] 18+ the two night stand au no one asked for, or, the fic where you meet steve on a dating app and then a snowstorm ensures you can’t sneak out the next morning.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

“Hey, wanna get high?”

It was an easy question to say yes to, to be able to do something other than sit around and watch the snow fall, something to break the tension, ease the silence that was still a little uncomfortable. It was even easier when Steve looked at you like that, the same way he had the night before when you first answered the call from him, all messy hair and flushed cheeks, soft eyes and a smile that told you that you made him as nervous as he made you. 

So you nodded and felt a little giddy when he sparked up a joint, trying not to think about how it had been slotted between his lips when you placed it between yours. Besides, his mouth had been in more intimate places the night before… but you weren’t supposed to talk about that. 

So you shared the smoke until the joint burned down to the end, a stubbed out roach on a makeshift ashtray and when the sky outside dulled to an inky violet, you found yourself on Steve's living room floor. The boy had made quick work of gathering up every blanket and sheet he could find, the coffee table moved in favour of a fort that stood proud in the middle of the room. The weed had hit hard when he turned off the lights, letting the old nineties style disco ball illuminate the space instead. It twisted slowly, pink and purple and peach and green, each coloured sphere dancing off the white sheets and walls, making Steve’s skin turn shades of cotton candy and apricot.   

You’d found a frozen pizza in the bottom of his freezer, grimaced and brushed off most of the ice before shoving it in the oven as Steve threw all the snacks he could find into the fort, chips and cookies and some sour patch kids lost amongst the pillows. You ate slices of pepperoni in agreeable silence, The Goonies playing faintly in the background and when dinner was done and the high started to settle, you found yourself laying closer to the boy, shoulder to shoulder on the floor. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, looking at you from the side of his eyes, curious and careful. “If you promise not to yell at me.”

“I don’t make promises with boys,” you said airily, grinning when Steve snorted. “But I won’t resort to violence, if that makes you feel better.”

“Barely,” he shot back but he rolled onto his stomach anyway, bit the head off of a red sour patch and kept his gaze on you. “But I’ll risk it. Why were you looking for a hookup? Last night. Like, why were you on that stupid site.”

“Why were you?”

Steve grinned. “I asked you first.”

Did you tell him? Did you tell him the truth? Would you sound pathetic, would you sound sad? Would you tell this boy, this stranger, that you’d once been happy and with your own place, another boy to share it with, that white picket fence kinda dream. Would you tell him you had a man, who wore a suit and tie to work, who promised you a ring and a baby and anything else you wanted, would you tell him that you found him with another girl when you came home too early one day, that he was less than sorry and told you that he just didn’t feel the same, that he was going to confess to you eventually. 

How could you tell him that? How could you tell that story without crying?

So you hoped your eyes didn’t turn glassy as you kept Steve’s gaze and shrugged, fingers playing nervously with the tassels on the end of a blanket. “What’s that thing they say? ‘You gotta get back on the horse’ or something?” You swallowed, throat too tight. “I had to get back on the horse.”

Steve stared, eyes widening slightly in realisation and he nodded, slow, thoughtful. Silence crept in, the movie long over and the credits rolling silently, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound. And then Steve knocked a hand against yours and said, “for what it’s worth, the guy sounds like an idiot. His loss, y’know?”

You grinned despite your confusion, nose scrunched and you stole a piece of candy from the bowl the boy had monopolised. “You don’t even know what he did.”

Steve hummed and shook his head, not wanting to hear your counter argument. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve got this look in your eye and— and, well, I can just tell, okay? He’s probably the world's biggest douche and he doesn’t deserve you.”

You were speechless, lips parted, tongue fizzing with leftover sugar and still staring at Steve. This guy you met online, a stranger. Except not really. 

“You didn’t deserve that.” Steve finished, he was staring at the popcorn, cheeks a little pink. “Whatever it was… that he did. You didn’t.”

Your socked foot met his, toes pushed to his, the closest you’d been since the night before. He stared at where you touched him, throat bobbing and you sniffed before whispering a small, ‘thanks.’ 

Steve shrugged again, embarrassed and brushing it off but his words clung to you in a way that was more important than you realised. When you’d told your mom about your ex, she’d been sympathetic but she seemed more concerned about you moving back in with a friend, having a roommate instead of a mortgage and still no ring on your finger. 

‘Maybe you weren’t giving him what he needed, hon,” she’d tried to justify. ‘You’re always so busy at work, you know. Men need cared for, they like to come home and have their dinner on the table and—’

You’d hung up the call without listening to it anymore. 

“Even though I’m a raging dragon?” You asked Steve, your knowing smile lightening the mood. 

You laughed when the boy’s cheeks burned, the tips of his ears just as red and he sat up in defence, hands held out placatingly. “Hey, c’mon now. You weren’t supposed to hear that—”

“So that makes it okay?” You squealed, laughing whilst trying to act offended. You batted at Steve’s hands when he tried to steal back the sour patch kids. “No, they’re mine now. Penance for your awful honesty.”

“—if you let me talk,” Steve grumbled but he was smiling too and god, it was a pretty sight. “You’ll know that I didn’t mean it. Well I did, a little. You were scary.”

You snorted. 

“But hot,” Steve added on, looking at you from under his lashes, gaze lowered and he took a second to see how you’d take such a compliment. You raised your brows, hiding a smile with twisted lips. “Y’know, in that ‘she’s yelling but I’m turned on’ kinda way?”

You laughed, a bright burst of sound that made Steve grin and you shook your head, “god, boy’s are easy, huh?”

“We’re mere creatures, honestly,” Steve smiled and he didn’t seem to care about his admittance. Or the fact you’d both promised not to talk about the fact you had slept with each other, ‘cause then he said: “M’sorry I couldn’t you know, be a… good horse to get back onto.”

Were you burning? You felt like you were burning. You felt like you were on fire. You squirmed, chugging down the rest of your sofa before answering. “Steve, no, don’t, it wasn’t— I was being dramatic— and a bitch—”

“Did you come?” 

You choked, face flushed and you wanted to placate him, ‘cause he’d fed you all day and you were in a pair of his too big socks ‘cause you’d complained about having cold feet but god, you couldn’t lie. 

“Jesus, blunt much?” You tried to stall but Steve narrowed his eyes at you. 

“Like you were aiming for soft and sweet this morning? C’mon, tell me the truth. Was I that bad? I can handle it.”

You chewed at your bottom lip, thinking carefully and you couldn’t help the breath of laughter that left you. “You can’t handle it,” you shrugged. “It’s okay though, no boy could. Your egos are too precious.”

“That’s not true,” Steve replied, and he nudged at your side, his hand grazing over the sort of your hip and you wanted to squirm. “Look at it this way, once the weather stops being so fucking dramatic, you’re gone, right?”

“Like the wind,” you nodded sagely. 

“So the chance of us seeing each other again, is like what, slim to none?”

“A zero,” you confirmed. 

Steve smiled and it was nice, pretty, a slow stretch that made him look like he was up to know good and it reminded you of the night before, after you’d shed your coat and clinked your beer against his, right before he’d kissed you against the kitchen counter. 

“So we’ve been given a rare opportunity here, sweetheart,” he sat up, gesturing between the two of you, his candy forgotten about. “Let’s get brutal. You tell me what I need to do to improve, you know, sexually, and I’ll hand out some pointers too.”

“Oh, I need pointers?” You laughed, humourless, eyebrows raised as you say up too, your head brushing the peak of the fort. Mirth glittered in the boy’s eyes and he shrugged, too causal.

“You think you’re some sort of sex god?” Steve grinned and you burned, embarrassed at his accusation.

“What? No! At least you got off!”

Steve sprang to his knees, victorious, a finger pointed accusingly at you. “Ha! See! You didn’t come, you totally faked it. You lying… liar.”

You rolled your eyes. “Mature.”

“Listen,” he took your hand, hesitant at first, but once you didn’t pull away, he tugged you a little closer, fingers tangling. “Hear me out. Don’t you wanna know? Like, a full Amazon style review of your sexual prowess. Cons, star rating, would I recommend you to a friend?”

You scoffed, unable to hold in your laughter, but you used your free hand to bat at his shoulder anyway. “You’re a pig,” you told him. 

“I know, you told me already,” Steve reminded you and he grinned, all boyish and teasing. Steve tan his thumb over your knuckles, fingertips scratching nicely against your palm. He was flirting. He was fucking flirting. “C’mon, tell me how to find some truffles.”

And that’s how you found yourself standing in front of him as he sat on his sofa, gaze focused on you as you paced in front of the TV. The snow was still falling outside, mounds of it climbing up the window as it settled on the sill, the whole world outside turning white. 

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together. “This would be so much easier if I had, like, a PowerPoint.”

Steve stared at you, deadpan. “You want ten minutes with my laptop?”

He was joking, but you hesitated. He said your name through a laugh, shaking his head. “No. You do not need a PowerPoint presentation, c’mon, lay it on me.”

You took a deep breath and started. 

“Right. So I didn’t actually have an orgasm last night and I know that hurts your male ego, but trust me, no one is more disappointed than me, okay?” You paused as Steve opened his mouth to retort but you interrupted with a sharp, “ah! Questions and comments at the end, please.”

Steve sunk back into the couch. 

“And it’s not because you were bad, alright? You were good! Like really good and it was pretty hot and honestly, I was close, like several times.” You stopped pacing to face him, head tilted to the side. “You remember what I said? What I might have told you that could have possibly helped you know that I was close?”

Steve sucked his teeth, bashful. “You might have said, ‘I’m close.’”

“Right! I did, didn’t I? And then you completely changed up what you were doing even though I very specifically said ‘don’t stop,’ so please, Steven, talk me through your thought process there.”

Steve gestured wildly to the air, at a loss. He shrugged, “ I dunno, I thought if I like, sped it up, or you know, did that little twisty thing with my fingers… kinda like a finishing move or something. WWE style, Tony Hawk Pro Skater, Mortal Kombat? You know— never mind. And don’t call me Steven, Jesus.”

“If a girl tells you she’s close, it’s because of what you’re currently doing. Like, exactly that,” you told him softly. “Don’t change it up, got it?”

Steve blinked as you stared at him, expression intense and he nodded slowly. “Yeah, yeah. Yes ma’am.”

“Oh! And if a girl is trying to help herself out with some hand action?” You gestured vaguely at your crotch, cheeks on fire. “It’s not a personal attack, okay? Sex is a… sex is a team effort, yeah? We’re simply trying to make everyone feel good.”

Steve nodded again, lips pursed. “Noted. Anything else?”

“Yes, actually,” you said primly, ignoring the way Steve smirked. “I don’t know which freshman dweeb managed to convince every male that spelling the alphabet with their tongue is a good idea, but it’s not, okay? It kinda makes me feel like you’re learning braille, and that’s not sexy. Apart from that, sex with you is perfectly nice.”

“You done?” Steve asked again but he was still smiling, his hands tapping at the back of the couch. 

You nodded, gaze lowered ‘cause you weren’t sure how you managed to say such things to a boy you barely knew but fuck, if it didn’t feel good. 

“Good, my turn. Take a seat, sweetheart, and get out your notepad.”

You scowled, shoulder brushing Steve’s as you swapped places, throwing yourself down into the sofa. He grinned as he took centre stage, immediately launching into a speech that honestly wasn’t as scathing as you were scared it was going to be. 

“Lights,” he announced. “What is it with girls and wanting to do it with the lights off? I’ve already seen you, I think you’re hot, I wanna see more.” Steve’s eyes lit up in excitement, enthusiasm evident. “Now I know, you had some real cute underwear under those jeans, okay? Something lacy, real sexy, I’m sure of it, but I didn’t get to see them!”

You laughed at his crestfallen expression, his pout. 

“And that whole thing,” the boy gestured to his clothes. “You switched off the light and stripped yourself like Houdini, zero appreciation for the art.”

“The art?” You snorted, eyes on Steve’s and suddenly the air shifted. You watched him shrug and swallow hard, throat bobbing and he didn’t bother hiding the way his gaze travelled down your body and back up again. “What art?”

“Y’know,” he shuffled a little nervously, cheeks pink again. He gestured towards the sofa. “You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at how you sounded so shocked. “C’mon, don’t act like you don’t know. You’re hot, sweetheart. Real pretty. Guys are nothin’ but visual creatures, right? You gotta give us something to work with. A little somethin’ like this—” Steve shimmied his hips, miming pulling his sweats down all slow, ass popped and knees bent. “— a little ass action, yeah?”

He grinned when you laughed loudly, eyes shining and your hand covering your mouth but it only encouraged him. “Right? You get it. A little over the shoulder look, bat those eyes. Did you drop something? Oh, yeah you did,” he smirked, smug and pleased with himself. “It was your panties.”

“You’re in the wrong job, Harrington. That was quite the show.”

Steve hummed, “yeah, but I can’t walk in heels, so,” he tsked and grinned. 

“Anything else to add?” You asked him. 

But the boy was already making his way back to the couch so he could settle next to you, a casual arm slung on the back cushions, his hand barely grazing your neck. “Nah, honestly, guys are pretty simple.”

You grinned, nodding. “Well,” you slapped softly at his thigh. “Thanks for your honesty.”

Steve cleared his throat and tried not to act like your hand on his leg was doing what it was doing for him. “Yeah, yeah, same. I, uh, I wish you’d told me last night, though.”

You gazed at him questioningly. 

“You know, that you didn’t finish.” Steve suddenly seemed shy, licking at his bottom lip and looking anywhere but your eyes. “I would’ve tried to, uh, make that happen for you.”

“Oh.” You were warmer than you had been all day. “I know. I should’ve said. That wasn’t fair.” It was hard to speak, your throat too tight, your voice breathy and losing that bossy tone it had had before. 

Steve finally lifted his gaze back to yours and suddenly, he seemed so much closer than before. He shifted, his hand touching your neck just briefly and you wondered if it was an accident. The forgotten TV timed out, blinked and settled back to black and Steve was multicoloured. The disco bowl still spun, lights shifting slowly over the boy’s skin, your hands in your lap, the cracks in the old walls. 

You watched him lick at his lips, mouth pinker than ever with the lights, lashes blinking as he seemed to mull something over in his head. Did he lean in? Or was that you? A shift, a pull, something that someone did that cause your shoulders to bump, your thigh to brush his. 

“I could try again,” he whispered. “If you want. For science.”

The disco light spun, colours changed and Steve’s eyes went from honey to amber to gold. He waited, patient, nervous. 

“Science?” You whispered and Steve nodded, gaze on your lips. 

“Yeah, we could test out those pointers, y’know? See if we actually did need a presentation, might’ve been better off with a diagram or something but hey, you never kn— mmph—”

Steve was cut off, your lips pressed to his, your hands on his cheeks. It was a little messy at first, off kilter and desperate, but you moved closer and let your lips brush over his, your breath a heavy fan over his mouth and chin. You let him chase you, silently checking that this is what he wanted to and your heart was ready to break out of your chest when his hand clutched at your hip and pulled you back. Fingertips travelled up your side, delicate, hesitant, but when they raked through your hair and grabbed at the back of your neck, Steve didn’t waste anymore time. 

He kissed you back, lips parting against yours, tongue sliding your own, nose pressed to your cheek. He took it slow, less ramped up and needy than the night before, ‘cause suddenly you were both gifted with all the time in the world. It was a push and pull, all soft presses of your lips on Steve’s, a slow tease, deep and languid. It was bone melting, a simmering heat, a new neediness that you hadn’t felt since the night before. 

You pulled back, lips already kiss swollen and pink, eyes a little glazed and you were pleased to see that Steve looked the same. You pressed a hand to his chest and sucked in the breath he’d stolen. “You’re good at that,” you told him, voice a little wrecked. “Mhmm, good kisser, zero complaints.”

“Yeah?” He grinned, pleased with himself. “Five out of five? You’d recommend me to a friend?”

You rolled your eyes and left his side, hauling yourself to your feet. “God, shut up, don’t make me change my mind.”

Steve raised his brows, watching as you backed away, fingers toying with the edge of your shirt. “Change your mind?” He asked a little hoarsely. “Change your mind about what?”

You shrugged, waiting until you were at his bedroom door before looking back, your chin pressed to your shoulder and your eyes on him. “Come find out.” 

You heard him swear softly under his breath, the scramble from the couch, the way his socks slid against the wooden floorboards. Steve was behind you in an instant, eyes heavy and pupils blown. You grinned as he backed himself clumsily to the bed, the backs of his knees hitting the mattress before he sat with a thump, never once letting his eyes leave you. 

“Take your shirt off,” you told him softly. “You kinda waited for me to undress you last night, which, I get the idea behind it but you’re a big boy, Steve, you can do it yourself.”

He merely nodded, stripping himself of his shirt before flinging it somewhere in his room, leaning back on his elbows as you grinned at him. You leaned over to the light switch, the harsh ceiling light clicking off and bathing you both in semi darkness, but before the boy could comment, you switched the bedside lamp on, a softer, warmer light illuminating the space and you. 

Steve smiled, nodding. “Compromise, I like it.”

“Right?” You said, “we listened, we took notes, we can do this.”

“We can totally do this,” Steve agreed, “it’s gonna— oh…” 

The boy trailed off as you lifted your shirt from your body, slow, enticing, movements measured and you tried not to let your breath shudder with nerves. But as more skin was revealed, the darker Steve’s gaze grew and you were urged on. The shirt hit the floor and your hands found your jeans, fingers toying with the button, the zip and imitating the move Steve had done in the living room, you smiled shyly and turned to the side, bending at the waist so you could slide the denim down over your thighs and knees. You stepped out of them and pulled off your socks too - Steve’s socks - finally showing off the pretty lace set that you had indeed picked out to wear for him. 

You let out the breath you’d been holding, watching Steve from under your lashes, enjoying the way he had fisted the sheets in his hands, how his eyes were flickering from your chest to your stomach to your ass to your legs, like he didn’t know where to look first. So you turned again, your back to him, grinning at the wall when he groaned lowly, and brought your hands to the clasp of your bra, undoing it and letting the lace fall to the floor too. It took a lot for you to bring your arms down from where they’d naturally crossed in front of your chest, but you let your hands soothe down your stomach until your thumbs hooked into the sides of your underwear and you let them drop down your legs too, a crush of black lace on his bedroom floor. 

Completely bare for him, you turned and met his gaze, releasing your bottom lip from where your teeth had pinched at it. “Did you mean something like that?” You asked quietly. 

Steve swallowed audibly, his breath coming out in a shaky huff as he nodded, his eyes glazed over as he stared. He kept nodding, eager, his messy hair falling into his face. “Yeah, yeah something like that,” he agreed. 

Your knees pressed into the bed as you joined him, squeaking when his hands spanned the side of your waist and pulled you to him. He kissed you like he did on his sofa, all encompassing, his tongue sliding perfectly over yours and you revelled in the way your body lit up for him, a live wire under his touch. 

“Wanna make you come,” Steve whispered between kisses and his words made you bite back a groan, “wanna make up for it.”

So you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak until Steve kissed his way down your neck, latching on to a particular spot that made you grab at his hair a little meanly. His lips took their time brushing across your chest, mouthing hotly at your skin, tongue sliding over a nipple, hands gliding over the parts of you he wasn’t kissing. And when he pressed his mouth to your navel, he looked up at you with an earnest expression, all boyish and with his hair falling into his eyes. 

“Can I use my mouth?” Steve asked, his lips already brushing over your hip bones, the soft pudge of your stomach. 

You whined, nodding, thankful you’d had the courage to ask the boy if you could use his shower after you’d eaten that morning and Steve revelled in the fact your skin smelled like him, his body wash, his shampoo. 

“Say it, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, already moving down to spread your legs, hands pushing at each thigh to make room for him to lie between. There was nothing to stop him from seeing every part of you, the soft light casting honey coloured shadows over your skin and it made you squirm. “C’mon, tell me.”

“Please,” you gasped out, blindly grasping for his hair to hold onto, keening when Steve brushed the tip of his nose against your folds, bumping clumsy over your clit. “Please, Steve.”

“How’d you want it?” He asked you quietly and you heard the nervousness there, the need to please you. Steve kissed at your inner thigh, sucked a small bruise there and smiled when your hips lifted from the bed. “You gotta tell me, sweetheart, I wanna do good. How’d you like it, huh?”

Dirty talk wasn’t your forte, never really had been. But Steve was looking at you so sincerely that you couldn’t say no. So you let your head fall back into his pillows and let your lashes flutter closed. “I— I like it soft, at first. Teasing. Like… like little kisses. Just to— oh, god.”

Steve had started doing as you asked, warm hands holding your thighs apart for him, spreading you open so he could press butterfly soft kisses over your cunt. He didn’t focus on one particular part, ghosting over your clit to warm you up, leaving you wanting more. He hummed when you cried out, thumbs stroking circles into your skin. His tongue stroked softly over you, kitten licks over your skin, dipping only once into your entrance, grazing over your clit and making you arch up. 

“Like that? Is that better?” Steve murmured. 

You nodded, still clutching at strands of his hair. “Yeah, like that,” you agreed and god, you didn’t sound like yourself. 

“Keep talkin,” he told you, chin ducking back down so he could taste you again, tongue a slow drag over you. 

“More,” you asked, voice high and needy, “please.”

“More what, sweetheart?” Steve was teasing now, he had to be, ‘cause his hands were holding down your hips so you would stop chasing his mouth and your chest was flushed, the same pretty heat crawling across your cheeks. “Told you, you gotta tell me.”

“Your tongue,” you managed to choke out, “keep it— keep it flat and just— oh, shit, Steve.”

The boy was a fast learner, doing exactly what you said as he kept his tongue soft and flat, dragging it slowly over your cunt, licking from your entrance to your clit. He brought his fingers to you, circled them teasingly until you whined and nodded, begging and babbling nonsense. Steve swore into you when you shuddered, two fingers sliding into you easily and he focused his tongue on your clit, keeping up that soft slide against it that you seemed to like best. 

“Oh, fuck,” you were panting, thighs hooked over his shoulders and Steve’s face pressed into you, groaning at the way you were grinding against him, fingers slipping deeper, hips lifting and pushing against his tongue. “Fuck, SteveSteveSteve, m’gonna come.” 

He didn’t do anything differently, he didn’t dare. Steve just moaned against you, hooked his fingers until you keened and let you ride his face, his tongue staying where it was until you were crying out, pulling on his hair, your thighs shuddering by his ears. He felt you clench down on his fingers, cunt a vice around them and he swore he almost came, his own hips rutting mindlessly against the mattress as you moaned out his name as you settled down. 

You were panting, eyes unfocused as Steve crawled back up your body, his lips shiny with you, his gaze looking just as fucked out as you felt and Jesus, he was painfully hard beneath his jeans. You scrambled for him, more keyed up than ever, ‘cause you’d never come like that before, not with someone else. One hand grabbed at his jaw, bringing him down for a kiss as you wrestled with his jeans, fumbling with the button until he broke away to strip them off for you. He looked elated when you chased after him, hands pushing and grabbing at his shoulders until you got him back on the bed, his head hitting the pillows with an ooof, before he pushed himself up on his elbows to watch. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Steve chanted, eyes fluttering and head rolling back when you wrapped a hand around his cock. You watched the way his jaw tensed, how his neck went taught. “I can’t believe m’sayin’ this but - oh Christ, fuck - I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

You smiled and then pouted, crawling between the boy’s legs so you could pepper kisses across his stomach, the line of muscle leading to his hips, the dusting of light hair down his navel. 

“That’s no fun,” you commented mildly. “C’mon, Steve, have some self control, huh?”

And then you licked a stripe up the length of his cock, catching the underside of his tip with your tongue, unable to stop the grin on your lips when his hips bucked and he cried out. Your name hung in the air with some choice curse words, and you’d have been offended if he didn’t look the way he did. Wrecked, ruined, all messy haired and glossy lips, pupils blown wide for you. 

“Want me to stop?” You asked, slowly pumping him.He shook his head, lips parted, chest heaving. You smiled, saccharine sweet and you wondered when you’d last had this much fun in bed with someone. “Tell me when you do, ‘kay?”

Steve groaned his agreement, letting his head fall back and his fingers twist in your hair as you sunk your mouth back down on him, wanting to make him feel as good as he made you feel. You hadn’t done this last night, both of you too eager to get to the main event, but you took your time now, doing your best to take as much of him as you could, tongue sliding up and down his cock as you moved him to the back of your throat. 

Steve whined when he felt himself nudge there, his cock heavy on your tongue, his hand skimming over your cheek in a surprisingly intimate gesture, but then his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, ran itself across the way it was stretched out around him and it was dirty, it was sheer filth and you moaned around him at the feel of it. 

“Oh god, fucking— Jesus Christ, sweetheart, I can’t…” Steve tapped at your head, babbling, eyes panicked as he tried his best to keep his hips from lifting off of the bed and chasing your mouth. “M’gonna fuckin’ explode, you can’t—”

You pulled away, lips swollen and red, eyes a little wide at how affected he seemed to be but before you could ask if he was okay, Steve was pulling you onto his lap, arms wrapped tight around you. He kissed you harder than before, a desperate bite to it that you didn’t mind at all and you keened high when your cunt slid slick over his cock, nudging up against your still sensitive clit. 

“Good?” You asked, breathless between kisses, Steve’s face dipping so he could mouth along your jaw, the line of your throat. “Any— god, any notes?”

“None, fuck, no, no, none,” Steve rambled, losing all sense of restraint as he started to guide your hips over his, the length of his cock tucked hard between your slick folds, both of your crying out at the friction. “Ten out of ten, five stars,” he choked out. 

You huffed out a soft laugh, lashes fluttering as he nipped and sucked at your collarbone, your hands reaching to twist into his hair, holding him to your. “Would you… shit, Steve… would you recommend me to a friend?”

Steve wanted to growl. Mine mine mine mine mine. 

Instead, he laughed too, shaking his head as he moved his lips back to your neck, nosing over the soft skin, grazing the line of your jaw until he found your mouth again. He kissed you too sweetly, too lazily, for the way you were rocking over him, desperate to chase some sort of release again. 

“Nah,” he managed to answer, “they couldn’t handle you.”

You grinned, pleased with his answer, even if it was a lie. You kissed the boy, too wrapped up in the way he felt under you to call him out on it. Instead you let him run his hands down your back, fingers tripping up over the curves there, the arch of your back, the line of your waist. 

“And you can?” 

Steve pulled back, still so close, nose grazing your own and he hid his smile with a twist of his lips. He smirked instead, gaze lowered to look at your lips. He shrugged, too casual and said, “I’ll give it a good try.”

You knew from last night where Steve kept the condoms, leaning over him to rummage in his bedside drawer until you could rip open the foil packet and throw it somewhere for one of you to find later. The boy hissed when you rolled it on him, over sensitive already and god, your hands were shaking. He kneaded your hips with rough fingers, leaned back into the pillows and he was cast in the warm light, skin looking tanned and apricot under the glow. 

“Like this?” Steve murmured and everything turned a little softer, the air taught with something that hadn’t been there the night before, no cheap beer to dull the senses, the weed long worn off. “Or do you want something else? Just tell me,” Steve was gazing up at you, his words sticky in his throat and god, was he as nervous as you were? “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Like this,” you agreed, nodding and suddenly you were desperate to feel him.

 You knelt up, dipping the mattress on either side of him and Steve helped you move over him, fisting his cock and letting you sink down onto it, eyes clenching shut as you lowered. He was a tight fit, almost too big and Steve groaned as he slipped in, hands rubbing soothing at your hips until you’d taken him to the base. 

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed out, chest heaving, jaw slack. “You feel so good, just— just gimme a minute.”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, agreeing with everything Steve said, hands clutching at his wrists as he held you, ready to explode from the inside out, ‘cause you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. “Shit, s’good, I can’t—”

“Take your time,” Steve told you, gasping out when you rolled your hips, barely lifting yourself off of him but the way he nudged up against your walls had you crying out. “Fucking hell, that’s it, shit, baby, there you go.”

Baby. 

Different than sweetheart, better, warmer, holding less sarcasm, making you feel sticky sweet with it, his words cloying, his hands on your skin even more so. 

You were panting, skin slick, too warm despite the snow piling up higher and higher outside and the noises that fell from the back of your throat only seemed to spur Steve on. He was greedy with it, hyper focused on making you come again, ‘cause he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go on without seeing you fall apart for him again. He liked the way his name sounded on your tongue, how you grabbed and scratched at him when you wanted more. 

He wanted it again and again and again—

“What d’you need?” Steve asked, voice cracking in the middle when he lifted his hips to meet yours. 

You cried out, eyes glassy, falling into him so you could wrap your arms around his neck and press your chest to his. “More,” you murmured back, “more of you.”

You didn’t know what that meant, and neither did Steve, not really but it made him smile because you were so past gone on him it wasn’t even funny. So you let him manhandle you, rolling you both until he had you pinned to the mattress and he hitched one leg over a forearm, holding you open so he could drive into you deeper. 

“Like that?” Steve asked and you nodded, fingers tripping down your skin until they landed in your clit and you rubbed circles there, clenching down on him when you hit that right spot. “Oh shit, oh shitshitshit, please tell me you’re close.”

Steve’s thrust started to stutter, his rhythm picking up as he slammed into you a little harder, a little deeper and your eyes shuttered closed as you got what you wanted. More of Steve. You nodded, mouth falling open, jaw slack and Steve used his free hand to run his palm up your body, pinching at a nipple before letting his fingers rest at the base of your throat as he fucked up into you. 

“Steve,” you gasped and he moaned back, a strangled sound that might’ve been your name too and he could feel you tightening around him again, just like you did around his fingers and then you were cursing into the dim of his bedroom, clutching tightly at the boy when he came too, arms shaking with the effort of holding himself over you until he buried his face into the crook of your neck and swore. 

“That— that was—”

You nodded, skin still tingling. “Yeah,” you croaked, “that was, yeah.”

“—so fuckin’ good.”

“So much better.”

“Holy shit, we’re good at that.”

“Insane.”

“There’s a lot to be said for listening in class, huh?”

...

[icarusredwings]

Save a horse...

(SFW, Read the tags. 1/2

Promts: One's on purpose. The other is oblivious. Can you guess which is which?

"..I didn't know that was a gay bar.")

Pov, you're currently a drunk and slightly nervous Wade Wilson - Not Deadpool. Wade Wilson. You know, that guy who's so insecure about his entire body that he covered 100% of it and often times has multiple costumes/masks on because it's a metaphor for how he actually feels on the inside? Yeah. Him.

You are also currently sitting in a midwestern country bar with a shitty luke warm beer waiting for your 'Room mate' to say he's ready to come home. Watching how lit up he gets when around ranch hands and hard whiskey makes you tip your hat in fear you might actually look like there's pepperoni on your face from how red it's getting.

Slouching into your chair further, you start grumbling how the joke wasn't even that funny and that you could make a joke 10 times funnier, but you promised previously to behave yourself. Plus, you weren't doing so hot anyway. This was your 8th one as it was, and already you were watching his every move. How his canines sat when he smirked, how his arm hung over the back of his chair, how his boots crossed under the table, how he used the bottle in his hand as almost a speaking point, making geastures with it as he litsened, responding to their stories with his own. Right now the topic was about fixing fences and Horses escaping, riding horses, etc.

Honestly, he's heard worse. Ten year old girls talk more seriously about horses than these 4 rugged grown beareded men.. it seemed so boring..

Oh god. At this point, you're wondering why you even came. You clearly didn't fit in here, and these jeans did NOT do you any favors in the front. Was this why he was always so bitchy? Because his balls were getting strangled together by denim all the time?

It's not until you hear something in which you perk up. "Wade. Wade! Come're! Tell'em bout tha' there one time, will ya?"

Blinking, you wondered. Did you hear that, right? That beautiful draw and slur in his words calling for YOU of all people?

"Come on boy! We wont bite!" One of the men laughed. You could of sworn you just heard Logan chuckle and say "You better not.." in a tone that was... not firmiliar.

Slowly, You get up and stagger over only to be grabbed by the massive belt buckle and pulled close. His arm wrapping around your waist as he looked up at you with such shiney yet hammered eyes. "Tell'em!"

"Tell them what?"

"Bout the thing."

"Which thing?"

"Ya know the- Oh wait ya weren't there for that. Well shit, sorry...Oh! Wade, thi's Buck, Cletus and Mark. Have a seat."

For a moment, you blink as if he's gone mad. There were no seats left. Only 4 at one table. And as much as you'd love to just sit on his lap, there's no way he'd allow that. Not in front of these guys. Manly men didn't let other men sit on their laps in public. He's learned that the hard way.

"How much have you had, Wolfie?"

"Ah! Nevermin' that! Sit!" As if God himself awnsered your prayers he dragged you down into his lap, keeping you sat sideways and with an arm around you for no reason at all other then to claim dominance? Territory even? Just.. cause?

Either way, you find yourself a bit too shocked to speak, but let's be honest, that never lasts long. Trying to hide your face, You mutter;

"So...new friends of yours?" You ask the beast of a man who's locked his arm onto your hip.

"Cowfolk are usually quite... fond.. of one another." Buck says as if trying to tell you something, but you were far too knackered to get it the first go.

"We got a way of finding each other." Mark speaks up.

"Oh, do you now?" You ask, sounding intrigued.

It was now that you understood FULLY why he brought you to this bar specifically. Or was he even aware? No he couldn't be that dull- well...

Suddenly, you relaxed completely into his arms, wrapping an arm loosely around his neck, fitting into him like a puzzle piece. Like a wave of relief that you could infact show affection in here. It made you wonder if that was why Logan was so handsy or if he was just three sheets to the wind.

"Mmh. It's how we found ol' Logan here." Cletus made the mistake of saying and smiling at the muscly hairy man in a way Wade knew far too well.

Giving a quick, threatening glance, you take off your hat and put it on top of his head while staring them dead in the face. Howlett wasn't the only one who was territorial..

[golubichkalive]

rus: добро пожаловать в pizza stable, ау про конный спорт, только вместо лошадей крысы. а сюжет таков, что башни нету, и все жили себе спокойно, занимались своими профессией, и тут каждому приходит так сказать приглашение на участие в крысиных скачках и ��ще написано, что будет какой супер приз, кажется звучит как наеб, да? ну и все пришли в место, которое было в приглашении, ну и это оказалась конюшня, и организаторы всего этого были Пиццахед и Пиццафейс, неудивительно. ну естественно никто до этого не катался на крысах, кроме Густаво и Виджиланте, и всем пришлось учится кататься на них

и самый прикол, что крысы были полностью идентичны по характеру своим наездникам

eng: Welcome to pizza stable, about equestrian sports, only instead of horses there are rats. and the plot is that there is no tower, and everyone lived quietly, engaged in their profession, and then everyone receives an invitation to participate in the rat race, so to speak, and it is also written that there will be some kind of super prize, it seems to sound like a fuck, right? well, everyone came to the place that was in the invitation, well, it turned out to be a stable, and the organizers of all this were Pizzahed and Pizzaface, no wonder. well, of course, no one had ridden rats before, except Gustavo and Vigilante, and everyone had to learn to ride them

and the joke was that the rats were completely identical in character to their riders

rat names:

Salami (Peppino), Brush(Pepperman), Loyaltie(Vigilante), Din-hum(Noise), Pepperoni (fake Peppino)

[poeticexhalations]

I Was the Favorite Child

I was the favorite child, and it wasn’t as nice as you would think.

I grew up hearing the following phrases: 

“We don’t have to worry about you.”

“You’ve got this.”

“Can you do that on your own?”

It wasn’t independence. It was isolation. I was the favorite child who could do no wrong, which means that my parents never looked in my direction. I’d scale the large tree in my mother’s front yard, scrape my palms on the rough bark as I climbed to the very top to read my books, and she wouldn’t notice I was gone. The peace was nice, but lonely.

I learned very early on in my life that if I were going to survive and be happy, I’d have to do it independently. Because my childhood was a test of independence.

My brother was diagnosed with autism at a very young age (three?). He didn’t talk for years. This terrified my father; he believed his son to be “inferior”, and didn’t take the news well. Allegedly, my father tried to kill himself twice because of my brother’s diagnosis.

What a wimp.

My mother took the news hard too, but she was my brother’s mother. She would love him unconditionally regardless of his diagnosis. My brother and my mother always had a special bond that couldn’t be replicated. Even though I desperately craved that closeness to my mother, it was my brother she truly fawned over. He was her universe; he was her mirror. They had the same smile, the same hair, the same nimble hands that loved to play guitar, the same artistic skills. He learned these things at the cost of me learning them, so I taught myself many skills during my childhood.

I was a tree-climbing expert.

I consumed books like they were oxygen.

I grew an unhealthy obsession with vampires and horses.

I learned how to make my own noodles.

I learned what corners of the backyard my father never sought me out, and the only reason he ever would seek me out is to have me do something for my brother.

My brother was my mother’s universe, and he became mine, too.

He was the black hole in which my life moved around.

We shared a birthday, and my brother got to pick out the cake. The location. The theme.

We shared a room, and my brother got to pick out the wall color. The shows we watched on our brick of a television. The carpet.

We shared a school, and my father famously told me that they’d double-up on our conferences because we were twins. Each child was allotted twenty minutes. My teacher and my parents would spend five minutes discussing me, and thirty-five minutes discussing my brother. 

We shared family vacations, and my brother got to pick the rides at the theme parks, the food we ate, the pools we swam at. I had to give up my water-raft for his scrambler. I gave up horse-back riding for his Lego experience. I had to give up my pepperoni pizza so he could have cheese (and no, my brother would not pick it off).

As I got older, I was told that only one of us could go to therapy; my parents couldn’t afford therapy for us both. It had to be my brother. And not only did it have to be my brother, but I had to take him. And be patient. And kind. I wasn’t allowed to be angry that my weeknights were filled with waiting rooms while I watched him play on the slides with his therapists. I snuck onto a slide once around the back, and hid in the ball pit, just so I could play, too. 

I got a good spanking that night and learned one lesson: My brother played. I watched.

Even when I ran the scissors across my wrists, I couldn’t go to therapy. I’d be told to “stop being dramatic” and would be demanded to use the car to drive my brother downtown for his next appointment.

My brother was both my poison and my antidote.

Because even though he dictated my childhood, he was–is–my closest friend. I resented my parents, never him. It was never his fault that I had the childhood that I did. 

Autism, and the challenges that accompany autism, are never the fault of the individual.

My brother is a beautiful person; he is light and music and harmony in one person. He is joy and love and purpose. If the universe had a soul, I have a feeling it would be my brother. My brother could sit and watch the rocks for hours, and find beauty in the way that water crests over them and changes their hues from black to brown to gray. my brother could listen to a song one time and memorize it, then play it perfectly on the guitar. My brother picks up injured animals on the side of the road and they never cower from him. We learned an entire fiction language on our own just to communicate when the moon was high in the sky without our parents learning, or pass notes in class without being caught. my brother would sneak me his Pokemon cards that he knew were my favorites under the table, my brother would eat my broccoli at dinner so I didn’t have to when our father was turned away, my brother would hug me far longer than either of my parents ever did.

The things my brother taught me… I don’t know where to begin.

Having a twin brother with autism taught me to put myself in other peoples’ shoes.

He taught me that rage isn’t usually the answer.

He taught me that fantasy is superior to reality, especially if it has elves in it.

He taught me that caring for someone else in many ways is also caring for yourself.

He taught me to make friends with people for who they were, not what they looked or sounded like.

He taught me that sometimes, it's worth pausing and looking at a rock. Or a tree. Or a leaf. Or the moon. Life moves fast, and my brother slows down to appreciate it.

He taught me to be a better person, because I was forced to always put someone before myself. I was forced to be patient. I was forced to be educated. I was forced to understand different perspectives.

I was my parent’s favorite child, and it was isolation. But I was my brother’s universe, and he was mine.

[sp8derwrld]

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𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴; 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚁

Ginger's childhood was memorable yet sensitive. He was single-handedly raised in a small Toronto apartment by his mother (Ruth) regardless of her best efforts the financial struggles and emotional tolls weighed heavily on their household. His father (Maxwell) was absent and consumed by an enfeebling drug addiction, left Ginger and his mother to face the challenges of poverty and instability alone. Ginger clearly remembers the countless nights his mother worked multiple jobs, sacrificing her own well-being to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. The pain of his father's abandonment hurt them both , but Ginger's mother imprinted in him a sense of resilience and determination, teaching him to find peace in music and creativity. During the hardships, their bond grew stronger, and Ginger's mother became his biggest supporter inspiring him to strive for a better future. As a child, he spent hours fascinated by the sounds of his mother's vinyl records, and soon, his passion with music production blossomed. With dreams of becoming a renowned music producer, Ginger dedicated himself to perfecting his craft, teaching himself to DJ and produce tracks in his makeshift home studio. Ginger’s favorite hip hop artists served as the perfect backdrop for his creative journey. As he grew older, Ginger's love for music only intensified, driving him to pursue a career in production, determined to make a name for himself in the industry.

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙹𝚄𝙼𝙿𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 : 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙻𝚂

Ginger packed his stuff and said goodbye to the familiar streets of Toronto, embarking on a journey to Hainsville, Texas, a city with many vibrant music scenes and endless opportunities. With a suitcase full of clothing and a heart full of determination, he set out to pursue his passion for music production. Initially, the transition was daunting, but Ginger's talent and perseverance soon gained him recognition in local circles. He spent countless hours perfecting his craft, collaborating with emerging artists, and networking with industry professionals. His big break came when a prominent record label took notice of his unique sound and innovative production style. Before long, Ginger's name became known in Hainsville's music scene. He went on to produce chart-topping tracks, work with renowned artists, and even establish his own record label, providing a platform for aspiring music artists to shine. As his fame grew, so did his gratitude for the journey that brought him to this moment. Ginger's mother, who had sacrificed so much for him, beamed with pride, knowing her son had turned his struggles into triumphs, and his music into a testament to the power of resilience and determination.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁

🖇️ FAVORITE FOODS :

Sushi

Pepperoni Pizza

Mozzarella Stinks

🖇️ FAVORITE COLORS:

Black

Purple

Red

🖇️ FAVORITE HOBBIES:

Producing Music

Free styling

Getting my hair done

🖇️ TOP THREE SONGS :

act ii: date @ 8 - 4batz

pressure - BossMan Dlow

only u - partynextdoor

🖇️ PETS:

all black cane corso + some horses 😂

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Sword gays showdown - preliminaries

Propaganda:

For Corinne D'Artagnan:

the only barbie to study the blade. the only barbie to have three gfs. gee barbie! how come your mom lets you have three girlfriends? vote corinne for polycules. vote corinne for pepperoni. for EMF. for tumblr user @mynqzo’s AU. and above all vote corinne for feminism. 

Corinne is the daughter of D’Artagnan from the original book by Dumas. She wants to follow in her father’s footsteps and become a musketeer, but oh no it’s the antagonist Period-Typical Misogyny. She ends up working for the palace anyway, as a maid, where she meets three other girls with her same dream and a badass old lady who trains them. The training montages are fun! They save the prince’s life a few times, uncover the plot to murder him at a masked ball they shouldn’t be attending in the first place, save his life one final time, defeat the other Big Bad of the movie (the prince’s evil cousin, but I guess they defeat sexism too), and then he promotes them to the royal guard. It’s just a good movie, one of my favorites from the Barbie franchise, honestly amazing soundtrack, jokes that land, the musketeers are all very gay for each other, and OF COURSE I have to talk more about the icon herself, Corinne. What can I say? She’s strong, stubborn, determined, hot-blooded, sticks to her principles, and has not one but TWO animal sidekicks: her cat, Miette, and her horse, Alexander. Yeah, she’s a horsegirl. She’s a country bumpkin in the big city (Paris). Her working class rizz pulls the prince (who literally doesn’t deserve her, Corinne x Renée forever, Louis you will die by my sword). She taunts the antagonist while he’s dangling from a rooftop (in the smuggest voice possible: “still believe a girl doesn’t possess the proper skills?”) she doesn’t even try to save his life lol. He does survive because it’s a movie for kids but no thanks to her. The film concludes with Corinne riding into the sunset with her gal pals, swords drawn, leaving the prince behind. 

For Youmu Konpaku:

Two swords. Therefore twice the awesomeness. She is half-ghost, which is cool. Also she so has a crush on Yuyuko.

Uhhh she's sick as fuccckk

[telekinetictrait]

tfw youre a nonbinary lesbian and you just wanna raise goats with your weird girlfriend who only wears clothes inspired by the victorian age or nineties grunge

household for download here (sfs) or here (mediafire) !!!

i made ranch lesbians :) do whatever you want with them excluding: changing skintone/race, making ezra cisgender, making alise skinnier, and making either of them heterosexual. i will hunt you down they are lesbians and they are in love.

PACKS USED: cottage living, discover university, laundry day, horse ranch, cats and dogs, vampires, island living

cc you need to download SEPARATELY will be under the cut, along with creator tags. love u all :) mwah

CC NOT INCLUDED IN DOWNLOAD: jellymoo's dionne hair and scarf overlay / bellassims sunflower necklace / clumsyalien's magnolia blouse / clumsyalien's ava trousers / kijiko's ea eyelash remover + 3d lashes + 3d uncurled lashes / pepperoni-puffin's ophelia blouse / simtone's oxford heels / harmonia's lace trimmed cotton chemise

thank you to @myfawnwysimblr @qicc @ice-creamforbreakfast @teabaker @ayoshi @bellassims @chere-indolente @jellymoo @sforzcc @dreambot @clumsyalienn @emmibouquet @gilded-ghosts @saruin @pepperoni-puffin @the-crypt-o-club @deathpoke1qa @thepeachyfaerie @squea @hi-land @immortalysasims @lamatisse @luumia @ratboysims @missrubybird @sammi-xox @seaslugsims @vibrantpixels @yooniesim @okruee @renlishsims @uxji @kamiiri @dallasgirl79 @joliebean @nolan-sims @simtone @arowenc and any creators who arent on tumblr!

[hyukaphobicsworld]

Save a horse, and ride a cowboy.

You and Yeonjun are extremely good friends. And fuck buddies. He gives you keys to his house, you let him fuck you anytime he’s in distress or agony. But you guys can be comfortable fucking and having no strings attached.

One day, while he was on tour in Korea, you waited upon his presence in his nice, separate apartment. He was finally away from the member so every time you showed up there would either be loud laughs from his dorm or loud moans. You saw he came around 2:30 am-ish. You looked at the door as you heard keys jingle to be met with… Billy Ray Cyrus?

No. It was Yeonjun. “Jesus fucking Christ! I thought you were some stranger!” Yeonjun exclaimed. “Well that makes the two of us. The fuck are you wearing?” You asked jokingly and he rolled his eyes while taking off his shoes. “A MOA gave me this hat so I put it on and took it home.” He shrugged. “Did they also give the whole outfit? Or was that a suggestion? Because there is no way you put that shit on willingly” you laugh at him and he flips you off.

“What are you even here for?” He asked. You know exactly what you here for.

———————————————————————————————————————

“Ah fuck” Yeonjun moaned. Your bodies rolled together as you both moaned. Both of his hands gripped onto your waist, guiding you on his cock. “Oh god yes!” You moaned out. You bit you lips while touching his chest. You rubbed his red and hard pepperoni nipples and watched him whimper under your touch. He still had the stupid cowboy hat. Which yes, he looked good as hell with it on. It was like watching a Texas cowboy being whipped for you. You took the hat off his head and put it on yours as you rode his cock.

He was like a dumb dog. A dumb dog in heat. He watched the pornographic scene happen right in front of his eyes. Closed eyes, while your body rolls. You gripped his arm for stabilization as you moaned. “Look so fucking good riding my cock like that,” He groaned while smirking. “Go on cowgirl. Save a horse, ride your cowboy.” And with that, your movement was way faster. You hissed at how aggressive your hips moved over his stupid words. “My cowboy” You muttered back as you both cried in pleasure, soo to reach ecstasy.

“Ah, I’m close.” You notified Yeonjun and his hands came to stop your movement. He lifted your body slightly, his cock still in you. He took you by the hips and thrusted into you. “Holy shit ah!” His hips were faster than yours. Say thank you to those fucking dance classes and pure talent. “Cum for me, doll.”

Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy and you came, releasing your white juice on his cock. And as for Yeonjun, he came a little bit after you. You got off of him and lied right beside him. He laughed and you laughed with him. “Yet you were judging me for it.” He said, flicking the cowboy hat. It’s true. It seems you have.. grown to it. “Yeah, well it looks sexier on me more than you. So.” You made an excuse while shrugging your shoulders. Yeonjun laughed, giving you a knowing look. You crawled into his chest and he wraps his arms around you

The reason it stays strictly platonic or strictly just fucking is because he’s still trying to win over Chaewon’s heart. But I think he just won someone else’s heart in the process with just one stupid cowboy hat.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

[sophisticatedgia]

Black turtleneck, green tank top but not spaghetti strap. Dark blue, almost black leggings. Black sports socks. Dark green long scarf. Granny panties. Nike sports bra. Same ol sneakers.

Love you. Remember you are each sacred and so special.

Walking to gym. The sky is periwinkle. That used to be my favorite color and word. My best friend in fifth grade and sixth grade~named Courtney, loved navy and periwinkle. She died when we were 14 or 15. I couldn't believe it when I heard the news. So I called her home phone and her dad answered and I asked, "is Courtney there?" And he replied, "she's no longer with us." I was probably just 14. I lit a blue candle for her after that phone call.

💙🩵🕯️ R.i.p. Courtney 🕯️🩵💙

*********

Ok my hair is sweaty and I'm walking back to boyfriends after gym and grocery store. Got steel scrubbies for dishwashing, lemon ginger kombucha (no caffeine), two prime hydration drinks,(just downed mine real quick), more pepperoni pizza rolls for him and carrots for me! Because I have plant powered ranch sauce already to go with. I'm excited for more banana. But I only eat one or two today, Okie? Jeez Louise. I really go hard on those bananas. No, not anymore. I eat gently, mindfully, considerately. Not ferociously.

Walking walking bladda blah blah. I miss my parents and brother and dog and cats. I miss my cute family home. My mom is so girly and loves to decorate with horses and little critters all over the front yard, not to mention she gardens! I am astounded at our differences. I have gardened, but not well I daresay. I'm good at pulling weeds though! Thats all I can say about my gardening skills with the utmost confidence! My mom is a real life socialite of sorts. Me however, am very friendly online but quiet or goofy in person. My mom loves shopping. I used to abhor consumerism and think less of her for that. As I age I realize we can't help what world we are part of, we can only adapt and survive, sometimes miraculously thrive. But anyway I started becoming a shoppaholic this past September and this October. I remember enjoying the book "confessions of a shoppaholic" when I was younger. That's another boring mundane thing about me.

Perhaps I am more feminine than masculine. But truly it's all just a bunch of fluff. Unnecessary terms to describe sacred sentience. Is that how y'all feel? I find some discourse on tumblr so interesting. I believe I am an uneducated intellectual if one can be such a thing. But I am also very slow, earthy, and scared. Scarred. When I see other girls self injury scars I think to myself damn, did I do that to them? Me being the universe experiencing itself, as the model life inhabits and reflects. Interesting concept but just plain psychotic and I refuse to believe it in actuality. But thanks for listening tee hee . Almost to my bf now.

Remember, nature is always there for you. We are each flawed, and some of us broken, but we are all so lovable and have Jesus on our side. Please Jesus be on our side. A side of learning, love, humility, wholesomeness, and joy. Buhbye TTYL 🐾