#straight from the a

[atlien]

Nene Leakes Opens Up About Son's Arrest in Carlos King Interview | "He needs rehab..." https://youtu.be/qWin_RV2TCk via @YouTube #straightfromthea   

[hellkitepriest]

[softmachin3]

some (kinda risque) computer-loving pins from the 80s

[toyogamii]

“yuuji stop that,” sukuna growls at the toddler, swatting his chubby hands away from trying to rip open the candy bag, laying on the bottom rack in the sweets aisle.

the little boy pouts and kicks his older brother in the leg sharply.

“you little-“

“excuse me, sir? i think your son dropped this.”

sukuna looks up, ready to snap about being bothered in the middle of his grocery trip when he sees you, holding yuuji’s little tiger plushy. every word is knocked from his head and his mouth drops open a little. you looked like an angel come to life.

“uh… thanks,” he mumbles after a slightly awkward pause, he grabs the toy from your hand and gives it to yuuji who squeals with delight.

“there you go brat… he’s not my kid by the way, just my little brother,” he’s not sure why he feels the need to clarify.

“aw,” you say, “he looks just like you, so adorable.”

you squat down and wave to yuuji who grins and waves back.

sukuna can feel his cheeks heat up slightly and he curses to himself.

“what was that?” you ask as you stand up. shit, you’re so fucking pretty. he doesn’t know how to handle himself.

“nothin’ can i uh, get your number or something?” he grumbles. you cock your head and laugh softly.

“you sound like you feel obligated to ask for my number.”

“yeah, yeah, just to find some way to thank you for finding it. if ya hadn’t I’m sure this brat woulda been hollerin’ the whole way home.”

you laugh and pull out your phone.

“here, i’m y/n, by the way.”

“sukuna,” he mumbles as he types his information in, then hands you his phone to do the same.

when you finally walk off he’s left staring at the little contact in his phone.

y/n :)

yeah… he’ll definitely be giving you a call.

pt. 2

[mosslingg]

is this anything

[sigh-tofm]

when they come home drunk…

… price

- thinks it’s important that he loudly tells you he’s married while you steady him upstairs to bed. points to his ring incessantly, slurs on and on about his perfect wonderful wife with the big ass and soft tummy. you roll your eyes and can’t help but smile when he doesn’t let you hold on to his arm to support him. something about protecting his virtue for his wife, as if you’re not standing right beside him. proceeds to lock you out of your own bedroom when you finally get upstairs, telling you his wife will be home soon so he can’t have a strange woman in their bedroom (but still remarks on your wonderful ass). you decide it’s too early in the morning to persuade your drunk husband to let you in, so you go down to sleep on the couch. you wake up with price sleeping soundly on the floor beside you, having gone to find his wife when she never showed up in his bed the night before.

… kyle

- gets sappy and apologises for being away. loses all concept of time when he’s drunk, says he’s sorry, he didn’t mean to be away so long, he was thinking of you the whole time, the guys pulled him along and he couldn’t say no. while he’s on his knees at your feet, pressing his face to your thighs and mumbling into your marbled skin, almost making you lose your balance with his fervent apologies, you gently remind him that you were the one who made him go out with the boys because he needed to unwind after a stressful weekend of combat drills, and that he had left with them less than two hours ago. he refuses to hear and only hugs your thighs closer, so much so that you have to support yourself on the wall. turns out all he needed to relax was you.

… johnny

- is horny. almost starts drooling when he eyes you at the top of the stairs, after struggling to close the entrance door for a good minute, causing you to investigate what made all the noise. gets a wild look in his eyes when he sees you in just his t-shirt and makes you scream and giggle as he chases you back up the stairs and to the bedroom. being absolutely shitfaced, he has the coordination of a tranquillised moose and stumbles head over heels across the floor, catches his foot on the doorway and narrowly misses the edge of the dresser with his head as he falls. still, his little soldier is courageously tenting his pants when you worriedly lean over him and he gets a good look right into the collar of your shirt.

… simon

- is emotional and clingy. can’t get enough of you, won’t leave you alone. you can’t make out half his words when he’s had this much to drink (and the mancunian in him breaks out too, making it ever harder to make out the words), but you play along, smile and nod and let him sit on the closed toilet seat and talk and talk while you do your night routine in front of the mirror. so lucky to have you, luv. how could’a lug like me get a pretty one like you, luv. his melancholy statements of love become comfortable background noise for you as you remove your makeup and apply moisturiser. lets you wash the sweat and grime of the day off his face with a washcloth, closes his eyes while you massage your floral-scented moisturiser into his skin, never once stopping his little speech. ambles after you out of the bathroom, holding on to the hem of your shirt, when you’re all finished and ready for bed. his devoted mutters only let up when be falls asleep next to you.

[queerstudiesnatural]

funny how celebrities will raise $26M for a fashion institute but can't be bothered to mobilise even a fraction of that energy and money to help the people being tortured and killed in an unapologetic genocide as we speak. love that for society. what a moment for The Culture.

[shotmrmiller]

sex pollen trope where you're the one affected, having been exposed to some dense gas while on an op that felt like harsh sandpaper across your throat and lungs, and now you're a feverish mess on some ratty cot in a safe house and with only ghost as company, it's miserable, as the saying goes.

hair sticking to your sweaty skin, plastered onto your forehead and neck, every swallow feeling like you've got a mouthful of sand, your fluttering pulse wild and deafening in your ears, and the throbbing ache deep in your core, the blistering heat right below your navel— it'd only been uncomfortable in the beginning, the faint throbbing incredibly familiar, but the more you ignored it, the worse it got.

and now you're here, with arousal sticking your underwear to your pussy, unable to do anything about it because your lieutenant is seated in a corner that lets him have both you and the front door within his line of sight. a quick, discreet rub under your clothes is not an option.

someone put you out of your foggy misery.

"squirmin' like a worm on a 'ook isn't gonna help." his staring doesn't either, yet he does it anyway.

"got to make sure ya aren't dyin' on me." you want to snap that you don't think proof of life is on the darkened stain between your legs, the retort pressed behind clenched teeth but another thick wave of bestial need rolls over you and god, you're about to shove your hand into your underwear, propriety be damned—

"best you don't do tha'." why the fuck not? "you'll only get relief for a moment 'fore it comes back twofold." he says as if he's reading off the morning paper and not watching you fight tooth and nail to not fuck yourself against the pillow your head is on. (soap's offer to be friends with benefits is only looking better by the hour.)

you hastily decide that it'll be better than nothing. you'll just have to rub your pussy raw until this drug runs its course and you're telling him to piss off or don't, but you've had enough. you're stuck here with him anyway, no flight home until the morn and you're not about to spend it writhing around.

"if tha's wha' you want," ghost bites his gloves off, spitting them out onto the ground before curling his hands around your ankles and dragging you toward him. "i will help." your entire world narrows down to the feel of him touching your skin, his fingers searing as they hook into the waistband of your pants, and you almost kick him in the mouth trying to get them off faster.

"but 'm not fuckin' you." the bite of disappointment is quickly forgotten, his breath warm against your slick pussy, and after three quick glides of his tongue over your pearl, your orgasm crests, pulse after pulse of pleasure so potent it stung.

in less than a minute you're burning again, need thrumming through you and with the heady push and drag of his middle finger over your sensitive nerves, curling in you until he can fit two, three—

you're lost.

(ghost telling you that he's not doing anything else because if he's going to fuck you then you're going to remember it falls on ringing ears.)

[gojoest]

nanami kento tries so hard not to fuck you on your first date, it makes him feel like a terrible man. he’s not like this, usually. you just frustrate every single cell in him, sexually — he can’t believe this is happening to him, honestly.

it’s a pain, he acts cold and distant — he’s simply trying to hide his boner half of the time. he zones out while you speak — your lips are distracting, he can’t hear a single word you speak. he can only think of the many ways your lips would shape and shift when you moan and whimper his name the deeper he sinks his cock in you. also, can you fit all of him down your throat? oh, can you—

fuck…

his cock gets hard under the table, forcing a sense of panic in him while he ponders whether he’s visibly leaked and stained his slacks or not. terrified to look down, because he knows. he’s so fucked.

he needs to wait a bit before you leave the restaurant, to cool off a bit, calm down. but it only gets worse from there.

he drives you back home, but doesn’t leave the car to walk you to your doorstep. his cock is hard again, aching so bad it limits his movements. besides if he steps out and stands tall before you — you will see, this time you definitely will. he’s embarrassed. and on top of that, he feels like an ass, the lowest of the lowest, for treating you so poorly.

the entire car ride was torturous to him, courtesy of your scent so close to him in the passenger seat, along with the way you tucked your hands between your thighs every now and then — perhaps the awkward silence got you nervous. he wondered all the way to your house how you smelled and tasted, down there.

you think the whole date was a disaster, and that he’ll never call you again but little did you know, the first thing he did when he went back home was jerk off — not once, not twice, but three fucking times, thinking about you. furiously.

later, he texts you. you blink a few times in utter disbelief.

dinner tomorrow? i’ll cook

dinner — at his place, that is. he’ll change the bedsheets in the morning with freshly washed ones, because this time — he’ll fuck you.

[princessbutler1316]

Woke: Oh, but Deadpool never gave any signs that he was LGBTQ+

Deadpool:

Woke: But Wolverine doesn't either

Wolverine:

[atlien]

Carlee Russell & Her Baby On The Side of the Road Story DEBUNKED 😫

[hymyarts]

"We Myrmidons are not the sentimental type."

[heyfoxprince]

*skids in* guess who got to color another @yallstar bingqiu sketch!!!!!!!!!

[toyogamii]

pt. 1

“so this is how you thank me for finding his stuffie?” you tease. sukuna shoots you a glare and hoists yuuji up onto his shoulders.

“you seemed to like the little brat so much, figured you might wanna see him again.”

you grin and wave at the toddler sitting happily on his brothers shoulders. yuuji smiles widely and wiggles his little fingers at you.

“of course i wanna see him, he’s precious,” you coo. sukuna rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but feel his heart beat a little faster at how good you are with his baby brother.

you reach up and scoop yuuji into your arms. he squeals and giggles with glee.

“but i think maybe your big brother wanted to see me, hm?” you give sukuna a teasing smile. his face twists and he looks away.

“c’mon, the little brat likes going down the slide.”

he turns and briskly walks off, but he’s not fast enough for you to miss the pink on his cheeks that matches his messy hair.

cute, you think, he’s cute.

yuuji twists his way out of your arms and grabs your hand, dragging you to catch up with his brother. the little boy wraps his chubby fingers sukuna’s thumb and pulls you both to the slide.

when the two of you are finally worn out after over an hour of trying to keep up with yuuji’s energy; you both collapse onto a nearby bench together.

“damn,” you mumble, “his batteries just don’t run out.”

“heh, yeah. try keeping up with him every day,” sukuna says, stretching his arms over his head. you try to hide the way your eyes travel to his stomach as his shirt rises. you can see tattoos peeking out and his pink happy trail almost make your mouth water.

“take a picture it’ll last longer.”

you can feel your face heat up and your eyes snap up to meet his. he’s smirking and who he’s attractive.

what you can’t tell is that he’s about to die. watching you with yuuji, seeing your smile and laugh, you’re even prettier up close and not in the grocery store.

“as if,” you snort, turning away quickly. he brings his hand up and gently turns your face back to him.

“what do ya say we hang out sometime, without the brat?”

you gulp, his skin is hot against yours and your mouth feels dry.

“yeah… sounds good.”

pt.3

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Phone guy was wild for saying that to Michael..

[homoquartz]

a show doesn't necessarily have to be ABOUT queerness to BE a queer show. it's a cultural dialect that cishets don't quite speak.

edit: i gotta clarify that the shows do indeed still have to have actual queer characters in them to count