#stupid humor for stupid people

[seosamhh]

Men with collars >>>

[mayasaura]

Ianthe is for sure going around picking up gal pals to fill the empty places where she used to have companionship, but you know what? Pretty sure Kiriona is not replacing Harrow in the Coronabeth-shaped hole in her life. Kiriona is the new Babs.

[pricegouge]

missionary

nik x f!reader

cw: dubcon/noncon implied, but nothing happens here. religious talk from someone who doesn't know dick about it but that's okay cause the characters here don't either. abrupt ending. MDNI

sunlight filters through your curtains as you wake, a diffused sort of warmth that catches on dust motes and cat hair, paints them cream colored and soft. you sigh and burrow deeper for a few more minutes, ignore your looming sunday chores in favor of sleeping in a bit longer. you can't remember the last time the sun had beat you out the gate, the winter seeming to stretch past into your memory as far back as your childhood.

perhaps that's a little dramatic, but it's been a minute, so you climb out of bed only long enough to draw the curtains and let the thin morning light stream through properly before flopping back onto the mattress, letting your dry, winter skin absorb as much needed vitamin d as you can get before your stomach starts complaining about needed sustenance - though with how late you'd managed to sleep in, you can't even blame it.

your head's a bit fuzzy as you make your way to the kitchen. with the latest cold snap on its way out, the sudden temperature change had left your sinuses reeling and you'd had to resort to a little cocktail of otc drugs just to have a chance at sleep the night before. small price to pay, considering the light drip of snow melt you can see falling from your vantage point at the window, eyes unfocused as you zone out, waiting for the coffee to finish percolating.

it takes a few sips of the strong brew to fully realize what that means, opening your door in near disbelief to find the storm door isn't glazed over in ice, no steam spilling through the frame as your house attempts to heat the whole universe. it's still chilly, for sure, but it's not enough to deter you, leaving the door open for a spot of fresh air as you get to work fixing yourself breakfast, singing to yourself cheerily as you move about, your mood brighter than it's been in months at the barest sliver of sunshine. it's nice enough out you don't even bother to put a pair of pants on, the slight sting of early spring air so unseasonable and unexpected that you can't but relish it.

cooking is a messy affair. carefree. you go all out, pancake batter dusting the counter and your legs alike, broad strokes painted with messy fingers as you wait for your bacon to fry. you're distracted as you cut up an orange, knife slipping dangerously close past your fingertips because you can't help wriggling to the catchy song you've got stuck in your head.

once, twice -

"shit," you hiss, turning to run the cut under some cold water before you even fully inspect it.

you're prodding at the seams of your skin when you hear him, voice a low lilt sounding from your left which chills you more than the mid-winter air stirring around your bare thighs, more than the frigid font you've got your hand stuck under. your eyes find him immediately, watching you from the other side of the screen door with a hungry look about him, like he can't discern between you and the veritable buffet being plated behind you.

"you alright there?" he asks, accented and deep. he's not looking at the hand you hold over the sink, thin blood seeping down into the webbing of your fingers. his eyes trail down over your hip instead, lingering on your belly where the counter cuts into you, protecting your lower half from his field of view.

"can i help you?" you snap, unsettled by the sudden presence of a strange man on your porch and by the feeling his gaze incites, spiders crawling all over you.

he doesn't even bother to look chastised, a slick grin spreading across his broad face as he sniffs pointedly, lip curling. he's hunched over a bit to fit in your frame, too tall to be seen otherwise. "yeah, actually." with an elbow braced above his head, he flicks a pamphlet against your storm window to draw your attention. blue and green, calming colors for a calming message, no doubt. he wouldn't be the first missionary to grace your doorway, but he would be the most implacable, with his leather jacket and thick gold chain. you're no theologist, but you doubt the latter day saints would approve of this level of materialism. "wanna talk about god, but uh - that cut seems more important at the moment." he nods at your hand.

"right," you grumble, attention returning to the steady trickle of blood from your knuckle. it doesn't seem too bad, would just need a good amount of pressure to stem it and a few days spent wrapped up. "well, i'm fine - on both accounts, thanks."

"sure you are," he drawls, smile almost as greasy as his hair.

"i meant… i'm okay. i don't need -."

"you sure? i could help -."

"very sure," you snap, ripping off a square of paper towel from the dispenser next to the sink and twisting it into a ribbon which you wrap tightly around your finger. "see? got it covered, thanks. have a good one," you harp, stepping closer to shut the door in his face.

a mistake. one step, two. your toes feel the draft from the door first before it inches up your legs like creeping fingers and you remember your outfit just in time to see his eyes already darting down, expectant as you round the corner of your counter.

how long had he been watching you?

stepping back behind your cover, you try to make your voice as assertive as possible, know you've failed miserably when it comes out a shaky whisper. "i would like you to leave, please."

the man's eyes track back up to yours even as his elbow falls from where it's braced overhead, his callused palm scratching over your door frame as he trails it lower, lower. hardware of the handle jangling under the weight when he drops his palm heavily over it. "you won't let your lord and savior into your life?"

he doesn't wait for an answer, the door squealing on its hinges as he pulls it open. it's not quite necessary for him to duck through the frame, but only just - taller than you by nearly a full foot and broadly built. you back away from him on instinct and curse yourself when you realize this brings you further away from the knife block. the pamphlet skitters across the counter closest to him, a careless toss which you can't help but track, eyes catching on the smudge of red at the bottom corner. it's only then that you realize he isn't carrying any sort of bag, no stockpile on his person to dispense the good word to all his neighbors. you're also fairly certain missionaries have something against working on sundays.

you play along with the ruse anyway, fawning in your fright. "please, sir, i -. i'd love to hear more about… about -."

he cuts you off with no more than a look, eyebrow arching nearly as high as his widow's peak as he tilts his head condescendingly, his boots leaving a messy trail behind him as he stalks closer. "yeah? you need jesus, milaya? need to atone?"

"i -!" you don't make it any further before he's gripping your hip, spinning you until you fold over your counter, the hard press of his fly biting against your nearly bare cunt.

"that's okay, samka, the lord will forgive you for being such a little slut, prancing around in here for all to see in these tiny fucking panties." he snaps the gusset against you to prove his point, hairy knuckle brushing against your vulva before disappearing again. his full weight crowds into you, unbearable as it is inescapable. you can feel his breath ghosting down your neck, the scratch of stubble behind your ear. and yet - he doesn't kiss you, plants a broad hand next to yours instead, doesn't even flinch when bacon grease pops and splashes over the knuckles. "you know," he drawls, almost conversationally, as if the tableau before him has finally registered. "most people offer us food after inviting us in."

the distraction is such a welcome prospect, you don't even bother correcting him. "would you like some?" you ask, voice high and reedy with a manic sort of hope. "i have plenty, i could -."

you're cut off with a yelp when he crouches, enough so that he can span his palms under the crease of your ass and lift you the final few inches necessary to fully hinge your torso over the counter. his knees pop as he falls to them, the anticipated soft press of lips finally landing, directly on your core. he doesn't seem to mind the barier still in place, drags his hot tongue over the cotton to press it into your hole, gets a taste of you and hums, diffused as it is.

"yeah, i think i'll stay for a bite."

divider by @/cafekitsune

[royalarchivist]

Pac: Oh man, what is this, what is this, what is this man? Where can I buy this? [Slaps his desk] I'll buy two.

Pac: [Laughs] It's very good man, very good. "I love you, Fítche!" [Laughs] You're going to think the worst, this is the worst phrasing you could think of. Like, I mean– a guy might say 'I love being fit, I love go to the gym,' but it was a certain way… I don't know, in English it seems wrong, right? "I love you, Fίtche" I don't know if that makes sense, right? Because it would have to be "I love fitness," right? There should be the 'ness' there at the end, right? Or am I crazy? My understanding of English there should have been an 'ness' at the end, right?

[zoolitsky-fandom]

He’s a filthy little whore of a man

[spikeisawesome456]

While watching the new Sonic movie earlier today, I noticed something and was curious, and figured I would ask Tumblr in a poll.

(Note: the public indecency one is indicating that you sleep in the nude or nearly nude, if anyone is confused. 😉)

I was just curious, since I noticed a bunch of people wearing PJs when I saw Sonic, and I was all… huh. I’d never considered wearing PJ’s to the theater before. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made, and I was curious if anyone else wears their PJs to the movies, or if I’m just late to party, ha.

[glorbs-dominion]

A very important chart

This is a very important chart. So important, that it made it's way into our "Funny Awards" channel! What do y'all think? Very important?

[coldflash-corner]

"Barry is a total idiot" literature is a classic and a staple in Coldflash culture, and never would I beg the creators who produce it to cease doing so nor would I ever dare say anyone is writing them wrong- just catering to their own preferences

However, my preference is

"Barry acts impulsively, and has to use his big smart brain to think himself out of the situations he put himself in, and is pretty good at the second part when not having a panic attack"

With a helping of

"Sometimes Barry doesn't get certain social cues, but figures everything out pretty quickly one someone tells him the thing he missed"

[seosamhh]

[burningcheese-merchant]

Ok, I have good news and bad news regarding the BurningCheese time travel AU (that sounds more and more ridiculous every time I say/type it lol)

Good news: Not only have I come up with an official title and written an official plot synopsis, I found someone willing to make cover art for the story!

Bad news: The cover art is going to take several months because the artist is busy with more important things at the moment

It sucks to have to wait that long, but I really adore this artist and their style, so I am ready and willing to do so. I will be using the time in between now and then to iron out the details of the AU. There are a lot of important questions (that other people have actually asked me about/brought to my attention, which I really appreciate!) I need solid answers for for the sake of maintaining functioning logic (the actual time travel especially, time travel is a very tricky concept to work with and I need to make sure it actually makes sense or else the entire narrative is broken)

Gonna go ahead and say this much, since people actually seem interested in the idea:

Will probably be sticking to the Back to the Future approach to time travel rather than the Avengers: Endgame one, it's easier for me to grapple with and I don't like how Endgame handled that shit anyway

Timekeeper will continue to appear even after sending Golden Cheese into the past. She's having too much fun with her new made-up soap opera to stay away like she probably should lol

The other Beasts (or Heralds, in this time) will appear, but I will not explain when, how or why

Slow burn romance. Just because Burning Spice is a hero in this time doesn't mean Golden Cheese automatically gets over her fear and hatred of him. The only BS she's ever known up until this point is the Beast of Destruction; the mass-murdering, obsessed lunatic that was actively trying to hurt her before Timekeeper intervenes. She will warm up to Herald Spice eventually, but it will take time and effort on both of their parts

There is an ending. I've already come up with an ending to the story. It came to me while I was out running errands and I simply cannot get over it. It's bittersweet, but I think it fits. Now I need to write everything else around it because I refuse to let it go lol. (You're really not supposed to do this in writing, but I'm forging ahead with the risk this time. I love the ending too much to throw it away)

You're all more than welcome to reach out and ask stuff about the story, even as it's still a WIP; it's been really nice to see people actually express interest in this concept (and as I'm sure you've noticed, I Like To Ramble lol). I just can't reveal the more important parts, so I encourage you to stick to more basic/general comments, questions and/or concerns.

Thank you all for your enthusiasm and your patience! I'm cooking something really special for you all, I promise!

[gyrovagi]

and a happy fade handjob friday to you all

[orcadork4ever]

Wade routinely does this to Logan just to watch him bluescreen 🤣

[shutinthenutouse]

[srslylini]

I need to buy a gun

[a-meh]

[shannonsketches]

He said "Fuck this shit, I'm out" I'm crying. Toriyama's Vegeta was so top shelf 🤌

(From Neko Majin Z Chapter 5!)