#thug tf

[octuscle]

Accountant wanted

Let's not kid ourselves: no one expected Dylan to have a career. He'd barely managed to get through school, and probably only got his bachelor's degree out of pity. But he really did look like he needed to be pitied. Slightly overweight, bad skin, a squeaky voice and an annoying laugh. Most of his fellow students who were not doing a master's degree had job offers in the bag before they had even started their bachelor's thesis. Not Dylan.

In the beginning, Dylan kept his head above water with his old student job. Cashier at the supermarket. Sometimes he was also allowed to help out in the accounting department. Sometimes he also helped restock shelves. Nothing you'd need a bachelor's degree for. Sometimes Dylan also checked the supermarket bulletin board, but aside from tutoring jobs or babysitting for babies or pets, there were rarely any offers. Until that one day. There was the note. Handwritten. Blotchy. Not quite grammatically correct. But it said “Accountant wanted”. And Dylan could do accounting. Sort of. While he was working, Dylan didn't dare to use the phone. But right during the first break, he called the phone number listed. Someone answered whose English was rather broken. In a mixture of Spanish and English, Dylan conducted a kind of job interview. However, his Spanish was even worse than the English of his interlocutor. But somehow it seemed to have worked, because in the end Dylan received a WhatsApp message “Come mañana at 8:00 oficina. We looking forward to seeing you. I'll send the address later.” Dylan was so excited that his puny little cock actually got hard.

The next morning, Dylan got up at 5:30 a.m. It was quite a distance to Little Cuba. And he wanted to be on time and look good. With his white shirt, unfashionable tie, and tassel loafers, he looked a bit out of place on the bus. But he was at the specified location at 8:00 a.m. sharp. Dylan. No one else. Dylan checked the location again, which he had received via WhatsApp. He was exactly at the agreed place. It was 08:15, it was 08:30. It was 08:45… At 09:30, a man on a motorcycle stopped in front of Dylan. “You Dylan?” Dylan's mouth went dry. The guy was a mountain of a man. Muscles, hair… Tattoos… Leather… The man got off his bike and gave Dylan a fistbump that nearly knocked Dylan to the ground. “Soy Enrique. Pero call me Lobo. ¿Qué pasa con esa clothes tan silly?” Opened the rolling grille of the store they were standing in front of. Lobo pulled Dylan behind him. He went to the back. Dylan stood a little unsettled in the empty room. A mixture of cafe, leather clothing store and motorcycle repair shop. It smelled of oil, leather and sweat. For whatever reason, Dylan got a hard-on again.

Lobo came back and put a pile of clothes on a counter next to Dylan. A pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a leather vest. “Take them off! Get dressed!” It wasn't a request, it was an order. Dylan looked around for a sheltered spot. But there wasn't one. And Lobo barked more than he said: Here! So Dylan stripped. Thank goodness Lobo wasn't watching because he was looking for something. When Dylan put on the jeans that were loose-fitting on his legs, Lobo put a pair of boots in front of him. Dylan shielded his soft pale man-boobs from Lobo's gaze. He could hardly take his eyes off Lobo's steel-hard, tanned pecs. Lobo noticed this and made his muscles dance. Small damp patches from his precum formed in Dylan's jeans. Dylan pulled on the T-shirt, which was actually a cut-off tank top, and the leather vest. A mirror hung next to the rack of leather jackets. Dylan looked into it. He looked so ridiculous. His pale, chapped skin didn't match the masculine clothes at all. Since he was freshly shaved, his double chin was even more visible. And the gelled parting just didn't fit in at all. Not with his outfit. And not in the store!

Dylan asked Lobo what he should do now? Lobo looked at Dylan as if he wanted to eat him. “¿Soy yo el maldito contable? ¿Sé usar este puto ordenador?” he asked. “Todo lo que necesitas está ahí, en tu despacho.” Dylan had to make an enormous effort. Dylan didn't exactly speak the Spanish he had learned at school either. But he replied, somewhat haltingly and with a heavy accent, “¡Lo tienes, jefe! ¡No te defraudaré!”

In the corner that Lobo called his office, there was a surprisingly new and high-quality laptop with a Post-It with “clave: Lobo” stuck to it. Not exactly a high-security wing, Dylan thought to himself. But then, he wasn't employed for IT security. There were a few pieces of paper with notes next to the computer. Maybe there was a folder somewhere where he could file the notes. Dylan opened a drawer. And dollar bills poured out of the drawer. Small, large, hot off the press, worn… There had to be thousands of dollars. Lobo called out to him that he would like to know what yesterday's takings were and what outstanding debts there were. Well, counting the money was still the easiest task. Dylan was done with that by lunchtime. Then he had 18,743.00 dollars neatly bundled on his desk. His hands stank of money. It was hot and stuffy in the store. Dylan's hair was wet with sweat. He was hungry and thirsty. Lobo called out to him to get some tacos. And a few bottles of beer. Dylan took 20 dollars from the pile, made a note in an Excel spreadsheet and ran to get lunch. For Lobo, himself and, just in case, one or two of the guys who occasionally came into the store between errands.

Miguel greeted Dylan with a fist bump and asked if he wanted the usual. Dylan replied “¡Claro, amigo! Para cuatro personas, por favor. Y dame una botella extra de cerveza, estoy sediento como un buey hoy.” The two talked about the usual while Miguel prepared the tacos at his street food trolley. Soccer, the cursed Republicans, motorcycles… A few of the other guys, who were already eating or waiting in line behind Dylan, joined in the passionate discussion. Gringos rarely strayed into this neighborhood. Especially when it came to talking shit about Trump, there was no need to mince words. One of the guys asked Dylan how he spoke ghetto Spanish so fluently. Dylan shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea. It was just the Spanish he knew not only from Miguel, but also from Lobo and the boys. And Lobo was now snapping at him on the phone in exactly the same Spanish. He wouldn't be paid to blaspheme and gossip.

Dylan said goodbye to Miguel with a fist bump. He would have preferred a deep French kiss. But Miguel was a prude. Too bad, really. Well, maybe Dylan would be able to suck off one of the boys in the store later. As the youngest in the team, he was the one furthest down the hierarchy. And as an accountant, he was worth less than the money collectors, pimps or protection racketeers on the team. The others chose when and how he was allowed to have fun. When he arrived with the tacos, he took a quick look in the mirror: yes, he was the gringo on the team. But he worked hard on his body, his language and his attitude. He did everything he could to fit in.

It was only a short bus ride to his apartment. He shared a room with a couple of guys who worked in one of Lobo's restaurants, with whom he laundered money. They were cool. They helped Dylan improve his Spanish, they always brought food from the restaurant in the evenings and if none of the guys from Lobo's headquarters felt like playing with the gringo, Dylan always had the chance to fill a hole or get one filled. Not that early though, the guys rarely finished work before 10pm. So Dylan took the opportunity, swapped jeans for nylon shorts and boots for sneakers and headed for the pull-up bar in the small park around the corner. Time for a little workout.

The next morning, Dylan's morning wood led him straight to the bathroom. The boys hadn't come home until around 02:00 and he didn't want to disturb them. But fuck, his morning wood was almost painful. He stood in front of the mirror, sucked in the smell from his armpit and jerked off with his other hand. Shit, he was 19 years old now, this permanent horniness of puberty had to be over by now. But…. No… It…. Was… FUUUUUUUCK! Not over yet. Dylan wiped the mirror and the sink clean. Shit, too late to shower again. The boys had probably dropped off the last day's takings by now and if he didn't finish booking them by the time Lobo arrived, there'd be trouble. So he quickly wiped his upper body with the washcloth, brushed his teeth and set off.

When Dylan arrived at the store, no one was there except Juan. Juan repaired the boys' bikes. He'd been doing that since Lobo was still shitting in his diapers. And now he was working on Dylan's baby. Technically, it wasn't his yet. But if the month went as he expected, it would be his bike by the end of the month. Finally, no more of this damn bus driving. He hated riding the bus, almost like he hated that his parents had given him that silly name “Dylan”. That's why he'd been nicknamed “Gringo” by Lobo and his boys right from the start.

17,776.00 dollars. Less than the day before. Lobo would be fuming. But Dylan's job as an accountant was done. All the income had been properly booked to the restaurant, the laundry and the motorcycle workshop. Even though he himself stank of sweat and musk, his books were all clean and tidy. Maybe he could give Lobo a blowjob to thank him when he arrived. And then Dylan would take care of booking the expenses.

Pic by @ki-kink

[ki-kink]

Yo, like, I used to be a total geek like you, bro. But let me straight up spit in your face and use your mug as an ashtray and cum receptacle, and you'll soon be as badass as me, dude!

[aaronazizsasilver5]

We have sk8r thugs that are musky and help protekt the team wherever possible, if u get near one of them u wont be the same dude as before, u will become a golden sk8r musky thug too bruhs and cant think of nothin else but stink, sk8in and protectin da team

[debitdebbie]

Coping with the loss of my bbg

[thugs-rednecks]

Sometimes I wish someone would just take care of my financial responsibilities and mold me into a muscle loving jocked out thuggy redneck bro

[khaosritual]

R.I.P I posted this before finding out, it’s been my jam this week

[hvly]

one of my coworkers (who has never stepped foot out of the state i live in, let alone the area we work) just said he’s GDK 🧍🏾‍♀️

[chaossturns]

𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

⋆⑅˚₊ — synopsis: you and the triplets visit Las Vegas for the weekend but when you guys go out to party, the tension rises between you and matt

⋆⑅˚₊ — pairing: dom!matt x poc!reader

⋆⑅˚₊ — warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, backshots, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap up tf), oral (fem!receiving), slight choking, use of pet names, spanking, and overstimulation

a/n: the smut was a bit rushed only bc this intro was long as fuck , but this fic has me going insane. also come here to join the taglist !!

⋆⑅˚₊ — word count: 2.4k (longest one yet)

not proofread

Warm summer air drifted around your body, goosebumps jumping across your skin as the wind blew. Chattering bouncing off the building walls, echoing out into the air.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” Chris whines, becoming impatient with the line of people waiting to enter the club. “Dude, shut up we don’t have long.” Matt says, rolling his eyes at Chris’s behavior.

It was currently 10:30 pm, the heat was absolutely excessive at this time of night. You had gotten invited by Matt to go on this quick trip, but he practically had to beg you to come.

𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊

 “C'mon please.” He said, putting his hand in a praying position. “We’ll have fun. Nick will be there which means you won’t be as bored.” He continued. Matt had a point, but you still weren’t budging.

“Matt, are you serious right now?” You ask, a small laugh dropping for your lips. “I’m dead serious.” He says, looking down at you with a small pout on his face. “We can go out and do the things you want, just come with please.” He said one last time, hoping you will finally agree with his continuous begging.

You thought about it, the gears clicking in your head. But you don’t know why Matt wanted you to go so bad. “Okay fine Matt, I’ll go.” You say, making Matt smile ear to ear as those words left your lips. “You won’t regret it.” He says, walking back towards his room.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

You were dressed in a dazzling, sparkly dress. The gems glistening underneath the shining lights upon the building, your heels doing the same. Matt was taking in the view of you, examining how your dress had a snug fit around your curves. He watched as you engaged in a conversation with Nick, your smile peaking out as he cracked a joke.

You feel eyes burning in the side of your face, turning your attention on Matt as his eyes effortlessly scaled your body. Your teeth nibble on your bottom lip as his eyesight fixes on you, causing him to drop his head and continue his chat with Chris.

“Girl, hello.” Nick says, waving his hand in front of your face. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment from being caught staring at your friend's brother. “Yeah, sorry I was jus–.” You start to say. “Mhm yeah I saw, you have to make a move before someone scoops him up.” Nick says. He knew you always found his brother utterly handsome, but you weren't sure if it was initially fine for the feelings to be up in the air.

After Nick finishes his sentence, you’re next up in line. The security does the normal ID check and lets you pass. The sound of Lil Baby’s voice rang throughout the club like a bell, men and women’s bodies buzzing with energy. You feel Nick’s hand grasp onto your wrist, breaking you out of your trance.

“Let's go get a drink bitch!” He yells, making sure you were able to hear him over the blaring music. He drags you to the bar, ordering four shots of vodka for the both of you. Nick downs his two in an instant, leading you to clutch the shot glasses and do the same. Your face scrunches up in disgust, reminding you how much you hated vodka.

As you and Nick were still congregated by the bar, the song “Throw Sum Mo” by Rae Sremmurd ft. Nicki Minaj & Young Thug began to play. You squeal, wrapping your hand around Nick's bicep and hauling him towards the dance floor.

Ass fat (uh, bust it), yeah I know, you just got cash (mm, bust it)

Blow sum mo’ (word), blow sum mo’ (bust it), blow sum mo’

The more you spend it, (yeah, bust it), the faster it go (yeah, go)

Bad bitches (bust it), on the floor (uh huh)

You and Nick are now in the middle of the floor, singing Nicki’s lyrics under as you point and look at Nick.

It’s rainin’ hundreds (bust it), throw sum mo’ (okay)

Throw sum mo’ (yeah, bust it), throw sum mo’ (word)

Throw sum mo’ (yeah), throw sum mo’

Nick now pulls out his phone, turning the flash on and recording you.

“HI, BYE HATER, I FLOOD THE CLUB WITH PAPER.” You yell, maintaining eye contact with the camera as you continue to rap along. “SHORTY GOT A ASS, SOME FOR NOW AND SOME FOR LATER.” You continue, turning your back towards the camera, and bending over while shaking your ass.

“YES,” He screams, “FUCK IT UP BITCH!” He says, playfully smacking your ass as it recoils. After a few more seconds you stand up straight, resuming your rapping with Nick. He comes closer to you, reaching in to ask you a question. “I’m going back to the bar, do you want anything to drink?” He says. “Yes please, can you get me a vodka lemonade?” You ask, your throat now needing a drink to replenish its dryness. He nods, marching his way to the lit up counter.

You stay where you are, slightly swaying your hips to the song as you wait for Nick. Pulling your phone you go to your camera, making sure your makeup is still intact. By the time you finish Nick comes up against you, passing you the cold drink. “Thank you babe!” You exclaim, giving him an air kiss. He smiles, persistently taking sips from his drink.

The music changes, Flo Milli’s voice filling the room as her song “Never Lose Me” plays.

Never had a bitch like me in your life

And you ain’t never had a bitch like me in your life, uh

Never had a bitch like me in your life

You ain’t never had a bitch like me in your life (yeah)

Nick’s arm extends up, holding your hand in his as you spin and drop down while shaking your ass. You come back up, singing along to the song as you feel a presence behind you. Without checking who it is, you begin to grind on the person's body. Nick, who was turned, faces you with his eyes immediately widening. This makes you toss your head up, getting a view on who was behind you.

The familiar face of Matt was staring down at you, a sly smirk resting on his lips. You try to move away from him, but his arms which are wrapped around your waist prohibit you from doing so. “Don’t stop ma, continue dancing.” He says, leaning down and placing a small kiss on your neck. Your grip on the cup becomes tight, becoming all flustered from being this close to Matt.

Your eyes flicker to Nick’s, confused on what to do in this situation. Nick see’s the unsure on your face, deciding to remove himself from the current predicament and leave you and Matt alone. Matt spins you around, placing your chin between his fingers as his thumb caresses the side of your cheek.

“You looked so good out there. It had me going absolutely crazy.” He says, the smell of alcohol present in his mouth. He grabs your cup and takes a plentiful amount from his mouth, using his pointer finger to open your mouth, and letting the liquor fall from his mouth into yours. You reluctantly swallow, prolonging your eye contact with Matt’s blue orbs that are swirling with lust and desire.

Your body became rather hot and bothered, not knowing if it was from the people surrounding you or the current tension between you and Matt. His lips find his way to yours, closing the gap between each other entirely. It was like the room went totally silent, his mouth smoothly mushed with yours, and moved in such passion. Your hand finds its way to his cheek, squeezing onto it for dear life. Matt’s tongue invades your mouth, dancing around with yours as you fight for dominance.

“We should take this to the room.” You say between kisses, the makeout session becoming to steamy for the public eye. Matt simply nods his head, calling an uber, and pulling you out the club to the outdoors.

As you waited Matt placed you in front of him, his fingers brushing your hip as he planted soft kisses along your bare shoulder. You shudder underneath his touch, your legs rubbing together to get some friction. Just before Matt spoke up, the uber had pulled up, and you immediately made your way to the car. Music quietly played in the background, the traffic not being too much of a hassle at this time of night. Matt’s hand crept between your thighs, fumbling with the lacey fabric of your panties. Your legs squeeze shut, arousal beginning to build up.

“Matt, cut it out.” You say into his ear, knowing the hotel is only a block from where you are. “I can’t mama, I need you so bad.” He says, his fingers itching closer to your clit. This time your hand meets his, removing it from below your dress. Luckily after you did this the uber park outside your hotel, leaving Matt to hastily get out and practically yank you out the car.

“Impatient are we?” You tease him, your heel clacking on the hotel lobby floors. While reaching the elevator Matt repeatedly presses the up button, the need of being inside you overtaking his mind. A bell dings, the doors to the elevator automatically opening. Matt steps in first and clicks the 16th floor button, the doors shutting shortly after. He turns to you, pinning your arms above your head as he attacks your plush lips.

He uses his free hand to grasp your thighs, wrapping them around his torso. The hardness of his dick is perfectly aligned with your heat, making you rub against him. A low moan leaves your mouth, Matt’s tongue clashing with yours. The sound of the bell occurs again, causing his grip on your arms to loosen and wrap them around his neck. He carries you to the room, earning a click from the door as the keycard connects.

When you enter the room a chilling air rushing over your body, making you shiver as Matt kicks the door shut. He plops you onto the bed, your boobs jumping from the sudden action. Matt gets down on his knees and pries your legs open, revealing the wetness soaked into your panties.

“Who made you this wet hm?” Matt asks, the feeling of his lips tracing kisses from your calf to your inner thighs. “You Matt.” You whimper out, his lips now pressing against your core. You feel his arms enclose around your pelvis, the warmth of his tongue swiping against your folds giving you a sense of relief. His mouth is working wonders upon you, the point of his nose grazing your sensitive bud.

The sound of your pussy being sucked and slurped bounced off the hotel room walls, your hand drifting down to Matt’s soft locs, clutching onto them with a harsh grip. A groan emits from his throat, your body feening for more as the vibrations flood every inch of your body. Constant whines drop from your lips, grinding your lower half onto Matt’s face.

“Oh fuck.” You say, releasing uneven breaths as Matt continues his tortuous licks. He drags his fingers down to your clit, his muscle entering your soaked hole. A drawn-out moan pours out of you, the pleasure from his fingers working on your clit and his tongue dipping in out of you driving you over the edge.

“M’close Matt.” a series of broken moans being put out into the air. “C’mon, give it to me baby.” He says, his words being slightly muffled due to how buried he is in your pussy. He drags a few more laps before your cum leaks onto his tongue. Matt licks up the rest of your juices before coming up, his hands reaching to undo your dress latched around your neck. Your boobs are now free, the cold air flowing in the air causing your nipples to become hard.

Matt stands up straight pulling his black tee over his head and unzipping the zip of his shorts, the material of the shorts rubbing together as they fall to the floor. His hard dick was protruding through his black boxers, aching to be released from their restraints.

“Face down, ass up for me mama.” He says in a sultry voice, watching as you comply with his request. You hear his feet shuffle behind you, the palm of his hand sending a strident slap to your ass. You yelp out, the stinging sensation piercing into your skin. Matt rubs the spot he slapped, trying to reduce the pain level.

You crane your neck to see Matt pump himself in his hand, sending you a slick smile before his tip reaches your entrance. He slips in easily, your slick making it effortless as he starts to plunge thoroughly. A pornographic moan leaves your throat, your fingers gripping onto the lush comforter beneath you. Matt was stretching you out in the most perfect way ever, your walls pulsating around his length.

Matt thrusts his hips into yours at a surreal pace, the hotel bed letting out quiet squeaks. Low moans could be heard from behind you, his fingernails digging into your skin.

“Fuck mama, you’re so tight.” Matt grunts, diving deeper into your drenched cunt. From this position he was reaching angles that seemed entirely impossible to get to. “you’re s-so deep.” you whimper out, the way his dick is brushing against your walls makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He quickens the speed of his strokes and puts one his legs on the bed, creating an ungodly pressure to form in your lower abdomen. “It’s too, mm, much Matt” your body slowly inching away from him. “Nope, take it.” He grits out, pulling your body closer as he trails his fingers down to toy with your clit.

“Shit Matt!” You exclaim, tears clouding your vision as Matt rubs you clit at an animalistic level. His name left your throat a thousand times, the pleasure becoming unbearable. He removes his fingers from your bud, attaching them to your neck, and gently presses them down on your neck.

An extraordinary amount of relief flushes over your body as you came, earning an ear piercing moan echoing through the air. Matt was still continuing his work inside you, the sensation becoming overwhelming.

You felt your insides suffocate his dick, feeling his dick twitch as his strokes come to stop. The warmth of Matt’s cum on your back spreads throughout your body, a moan following after. You fall on the bed, heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

“So, do you regret coming to Vegas, baby?” Matt asks, pressing a small smack to your ass as he retreats to the bathroom.

tags: @mattscoquette @mattslolita @luverboychris @l0ver-i @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @rileysturniolo @itsnotmariahh @summerssover @mattssluttygf @hoesformatt @sturniyolo69 @luvs4matt @immattsslut

[octuscle]

Proll-Stalking

Alter, wenn du 'n richtiger Assi bist, dann denkt halt keiner, dass du was auf’m Kasten hast. Scheiße, als ob einer checken würde, dass du längst am Drücker bist und dass es genug Leute gibt, die dir ihre Kohle hinterherwerfen und auch noch freiwillig deine Sneaker putzen. Kenn ich nur zu gut. Und wenn du dann mit den Jungs nach Lloret de Mar ballerst, glaubt natürlich keiner, dass du in der Business Class sitzt. Jedes Mal dasselbe an der Kontrolle, die fummeln mich da gründlich ab. Aber wenn der Security-Typ heiß ist, schieb ich meine Goldkette schön in die Tasche, bevor’s durch die Schleuse geht.

Dieser Spasti, der mir seit der Kontrolle auf den Fersen hängt, denkt echt, er könnte mich verarschen. Alter, der muss aber früher aufstehen! Sein Plan? Gar nicht mal so schlecht, aber mega leicht zu durchschauen. Dass der Steward mir meinen Jacky Cola über die Hose kippt und dann meint, ich soll den Platz wechseln? Lächerlich! Aber ey, kein Problem, ich hab’s eh gern, wenn mir einer im Schritt rumreibt. Außerdem gibt’s schlimmere Sitznachbarn als so Typen mit Bomberjacke und kantigem Gesicht.

Der Penner gibt sich Mühe, locker zu bleiben, während ich auf meinem Handy 'n paar goile Proll-Bilder als Wichsvorlage durchscrolle. Klar, er glotzt rüber, kann nicht anders. Und natürlich kriegt er 'n Harten. Natürlich folgt er mir auf’s Klo. Und natürlich ist er, wenn er meinen Dödel sieht, plötzlich keine harte Sau mehr, sondern nur noch 'n kleiner devoter Wichser mit ’nem Steifen.

Der Steward drückt mir zum Abschied noch 'nen Jacky Cola in die Hand, und der Wichser darf schön meine Tasche tragen. Klar, Alter, ich kann viel, aber trinken, cool aussehen und gleichzeitig meinen Louis-Vuitton-Weekender schleppen? Nicht drin. Sieht auch besser aus, wenn ich jemanden hab, der den Hampelmann für mich macht.

Der Bullen-Spitzel? Natürlich ohne Gepäck, musste ja spontan hinter mir her. Was für ’ne erbärmliche Tarnung, was für 'n Loser. Aber 'n knackigen Arsch und 'ne Zunge hat der, das muss man ihm lassen. Er packt mir die Tasche in den Kofferraum der G-Klasse, die mich abholt. Fragt noch, ob wir uns die Tage mal sehen. Alter, ist der dumm! Aber hey, ich spiel gern mit Idioten, die mich unterschätzen. Frag ihn, ob er Bock hat, ins Hotel zu kommen. Klar sagt er „Ja“. Jackpot, denkt er. Jackpot, denk ich.

Natürlich kann der Bulle sich im Auto nicht zurückhalten. Er hat gerade erst in 10.000 Metern Höhe meinen Schwanz gelutscht, jetzt kann er nicht bis ins Hotel warten. Eigentlich würde ich ihm meinen Sabber lieber in den Arsch als in die Fresse schießen. Aber ein guter Proll ist zur Stelle, wenn ein Loch gefüllt werden muss. Auch, wenn es eine Bullenfresse ist. Der Fahrer des Wagens ist eine coole Sau. Und eine clevere. Aus den geilen Boxen vom AMG dröhnt „Fick die Polizei“ von Automatikk. Passend!

Im Hotel fragt der Bulle, ob er mal duschen darf. Klar, sag‘ ich, aber bitte auch den Arsch gut ausspülen, bevor ich ihn ficke. Aus der Dusche kommt lautes Stöhnen. Klar, ich habe ihn noch nicht abspritzen lassen, das muss er jetzt nachholen, der Wichser. Ich durchsuche mal seine Jacke. Stinkt geil nach Zigaretten und Bullenschweiß. Muss man ihm lassen, ne geile Sau ist er. Handschellen hat er auch dabei. Das Bett hat Gitterstäbe am Kopfteil. Dann weiß ich schon, was ich mit den Handschellen anfangen werde. Und wenn die Sau so richtig durchgevögelt ist, gehen wir mit den Jungs einen Saufen. Er mag noch ein Bulle sein. Aber Lloret verlässt er als Proll-Sau!

Goile Pics von @proll4you

If you liked to read this in English, please let me know!

[ki-kink]

Bro, that cum he guzzled totally triggered the mega transformation. Today, he just couldn't resist showing off his sick washboard abs. And gulpin' down even more cum to become an even crazier hustler.

[numberonedukethomasapologist]

Random gothamite: SO last week right?

It's hotter than a witches tits in latex- so I made some homemade Popsicles that you can also feed to pets.

I also had my windows and doors open- yea I know that's dangerous in gotham but it's hot asf and who's causing major world ending crime in this heat? I also have my gun, duh

But anywho- I'm sitting on my balcony with me dog and cat (giggles and shitter) and the tiny stabby robin drops down from who knows where-

Now I've encountered this robin before when I was kidnapped (long story) I also know from social media that this robin loves animals

And so he's standing there a bit awkwardly

So I ask if he wants to pet my pets

He gives a lil nod- then I ask if he wants a Popsicle cuz this poor baby look like he's bout to melt into a puddle

After a pause he nods (it's the most adorable unsure nod ever and it gave me big whiplash after watching him pummel the those kidnappers) so I go back inside and give him a Popsicle and he eventually starts eating it while petting both animals who squeezed into his lap

And I'm like "omfg this is the cutest shit I've seen all week" and of course I snap a pic of it (perfect lighting and all) I posted it to the "cute sword robin moments" tag on Twitter (you have to look under that tag it's the equivalent of funny n cute cat memes)

But after that whole ordeal (he finishes his Popsicle and leaves abruptly) it's like a few days later and I'm stuck in between a fight against a group of thugs and THE FUCKING BATMAN

I don't even know how I got there I was just walking from getting off of work (my car got exploded, long story)

And so I'm just standing there watching it go down (no I'm not scared- this is a weekly occurrence, after the first few times of watching a fight it just becomes a nuisance

But after he has these guys all tied up and knocked tf out seeing the bat got me thinking bout the Robin's and then I'm like "wait? Would the bat like to see the picture??"

So before he grapples away (also, rude?? I just had to sit and watch your ass fight and block my only path, and then your just gonna leave??) And I just yell "hey I got a cute pic of the small robin if you wanna see it!!" Tell me why he drops down so fast and is immediately standing infront of me?!? Lowkey had me backing up a bit

But I pull out my phone and show him the pic

I'm being so dead ass when I tell you I heard him CHUCKLE!! THE FUCKING BATMAN CHUCKLED?!

He also got me to airdrop the picture to him and keep my mouth shut about the interaction (yes I'm telling you the whole story- but the bat is kinda like a weird quiet uncle who looks threatening but when your around him more he starts to become the uncle that you can roast the shit out off and he'll just awkwardly laugh- I know cuz ive cussed him out once and he went and brood in a fucking corner?? What I'm tryna say is- he won't do shit to me cuz im a gothamite 🤷🏽‍♂️)

Anyway- but yea? Crazy experience.

Only in gotham lmao

[lightning-and-sparks]

No fucking way Loose Yourself isn’t a prequel map because how tf are you going to look me in the eyes and tell me that after all your bffs get kidnapped you start thugging it up in the streets?

[restinslices]

This one's majorly because I want your funny take on it bc my mind can't decide LMAO. Could I request LKBS when their daughter or kid is being flirted with/asked out. I majorly think Bi-Han would tweak tf out but pretend he isn't buuut- I'm here for your take on it!

My bad for the wait anon. I've been sick for over a week and I was tryna wait for it to pass but it's still here sooo imma stop waiting and thug it out. My body hates me. I'm typing this on my phone and tumblr is so glitchy on here. Imma start biting my walls-

Bi-Han is for sure tweaking on the inside

It's not even just the fact that his daughter is being flirted with. It's the fact that this is happening IN FRONT of him

That gif is what he wants to do

Now do I think Bi-Han is like "oh my little girl can NEVER date?

No.

Do I think that he thinks dating shouldn't be their priority?

Yes.

She should focus on other things he deems important before getting distracted and dating

Bi-Han would just be standing there like the Hash Slinging Slasher while this rando is flirting with his daughter

If she starts flirting back, which she probably would, I could legit see him walking over and making his presence known

The poor teenagers-

"Bàba this is Dylan" "Hi Mr-"

Bi-Han grabs his daughter by the top of the head and starts walking away

It doesn't hurt. He just has a very firm hold and is like "we're going this way"

The absolute audacity to flirt in front of him? What happened to respect? Decorum?

Back in his day, he would NEVER do such a thing in front of his father. And he let that bitch die.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" "That boy is no good for you" "You don't even know him!" "Look at his arms. They're skinny. He can't protect you. He'd be dead weight"

Wow. I always love our talks Bi-Han :D

I don't think Kuai Liang would start tweaking, but I think he shares the same views as Bi-Han

There's just certain things he thinks is inappropriate to do in front of parents

And by "in front of parents" these two mean "in the same area". Doesn't matter if they're on the other side of the room

"Harumi, who is that boy?" "That's Dylan! Him and (name) are rather close" "Oh so she told you about Dylan but not me?

I don't think he necessarily wants to pull her away, but he would wanna make his presence known

Y'all know how some dads are with their daughters. She's his Princess and the thought of her growing up tugs at their heart

He wants to go over and stop the whole scene but Harumi tells him no

So instead he pretends he's not staring but definitely is

This mf has the most intense gaze as he's watching them. Harumi got a tight grip on him. She needs a damn leash

At some point his daughter and Dylan (idk why this name is sticking-) look over

He's just standing there... menacingly!

"Um, Dylan, I gotta go. I don't think my dad is happy"

Meanwhile "See what you did?" "I'm just standing here"

Exactly. You're just standing there and being a creeper

If this mf dies in Khaos Reigns, y'all are never seeing me again

Moving on-

I'm not exactly sure how Tomas would react

On one hand, he's grown up with Kuai Liang and Bi-Han, so he probably shares some of the same ideas and mentality

On the other hand, I just don't see him having a strong reaction

He prefers if this wasn't happening in front of him, but he kinda knows that teens don't be thinking fr

One thing's for certain though, he better not see SHIT become physical over there

No shoulder touching, no hand touching, no kissing, no hugging for too long-

It's just a bit too much

Tries to act like he's doing other shit but his eyes keep darting

Like bitch you're never pretending to be counting leaves. Didn't think this through, did you?

I can imagine his daughter looking over and being like "Hey papa! What are you doing?

"Nothing. Me? Haha... just hanging around"

"Would you like to meet Dylan?" "Well if you insist"

Actually talks to Dylan

Yay!

[cyarsk5230]

I could p*nch tf out a Black Trump supporter fr G lmao keep dat SHIT the fuck away from me

How you gonna support someone who has said some horrible things about your race? He called the BLM protestors thugs four years ago! That’s him saying n word without him saying the n word

And by n word I meant ni**er.

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

im rolling around and trying to decide how much i care about characters being in character, given my stance on death of the author. on one hand of course i love these characters very much and want to try to stay true to them. when they're horribly misconstrued it genuinely irritates me, and i dislike to think i might be doing that myself. ofc this characterization exists largely in my head, i'm not the original author, though i hope that the ideas are well-informed and supported by canon...

but on the other hand going through the number of times ive tagged saiki as ooc and have had a goddamn good time bending and twisting that little pink guy... he is not canonically a yandere. not even a little bit, though his habitual stalking and obsessive tendencies and

could potentially inform such a nature. canonically he works himself into the ground trying to AVOID hurting people. even the thugs he assaults aren't physically traumatized, only terrified enough that they're put off capturing both him and the meras. you could legitimately make a case for self-harm given how terribly he isolates himself because he considers his very presence around 'normal' people dangerous. to himself, yes, but largely to THEM. saiki looks at his crush, looks at the effect his presence has on his crush (or rather the cliches around said guy), and promptly nopes tf out and never approaches ever again, even working to set satou up with suzumiya.

and yet yandere!saiki, my favourite lil guy :( rip tear and kill my dude

essentially i have two very characterizations going on for Mr. Nikiforov. Viktor 'Doesn't wanna hurt anyone but has severe foot in mouth disease' and Victor 'I will ruin your whole life just give me a reason'. It could be fun reconciling the one into the other. There could be a case of denial going on. you'd expect either version would sooner swandive out a window and run away before trying to deliberately hurt yuuri. and yet.

Mr. I came here to seduce you but I will literally leave if you don't lose weight. Mr. I won't kiss anything but a gold medal. Mr. We're not getting married for silver. Mr. "Oops, watch the nose blood!" and then Yuuri crashes face first into the floor. Mr. I'm trying to motivate you and choosing the meanest way to do it every single time for the lols OOPS IT SHATTERED

Mr. I'm clearly still attracted to you even though I just made it apparent your waistline is a deal-breaker for me, so your weight actually isn't a deterrent even a lil, I still think you're super sexy let's fuck right here right now. You're single, right? Look at my tits.

Mr. Mixed Messages!

Mostly, people like to think of themselves as 'good'. Where do you fall on that scale, Mr. Nikiforov?

I'm writing the break up fic largely because I've read other ones where I was pretty dissatisfied with the characterization therein. The goal is, absolutely, ultimately, the ego death of both parties. There's going to be some pretty extreme circumstances leading into that.

But, kicking over the body and examining it, how to make it believable enough it doesnt stretch my own sense of disbelief...

it could be a matter of just needing to write more to see where it goes. it all makes grand sense in my head! but translating that into a document has proven a bit challenging.

im looking at teruhashi and understanding how she couldve possibly thought she had a crush on saiki when she clearly didnt care for him at the start. i'm thinking about victor so much and he's literally not even my favourite guy, but maybe it turns out he is lmao

come to me, wonderful fanfic where yuuri does nothing wrong and is a perfect angel and takes everything from chris to makka in the divorce because victor fucked up so badly and It's Still Believable, COME TO ME

[meganelixabethh]

I know Silas is a fan fav; but at the beginning of Magyk I HATE this man. During the assassination attempt and subsequent fleeing I think you could reasonably argue that Marcia is having the worst time of anyone in the party (if she is second to anyone it’s Sep, and even then it’s close). This woman has relived the worst day of her life, gotten stinky and slimy (and we all know she’s ND so that would be hell) and then harnessed so much magyk she almost ceased to be a human while everyone acted like she was doing nothing that hard at all, in order to save everyone’s lives for a SECOND time in this sequence of events (and don’t forget in all of this she also managed to save Sally Mullin too).

Then, just as she thought they might be safe for a bit (it’s midnight on this beach and she was awoken very early by alther if you recall from the Scene of Hair Curlers™️, so she’s probably creeping up on 20 hours of being awake) Alther comes and tells her 1) the one terrible thing she thought she’d done enough to stop happening had, in fact, happened. 2) the only person we hear Marcia mention with any kind of positive attitude; and by extension, someone she could trust, is dead. 3) that person was murdered as a direct result of number 1. 4) Not only has this insane sociopath that would very much like her dead not only invaded her place of work, that clearly makes up part of her identity, but also 5) moved into her HOME (siri play my tears ricochet by taylor swift) which is an absolute violation.

The Very Short List of people Marcia trusts and cares about gets another person on it murdered, and Marcia does not have the time to mourn her AT ALL because she knows she needs to focus on how she can undo this mess without causing the death of a ten year old girl. And what does Silas say? ‘The custodians are simply a load of thugs any *decent* ExtraOrdinary Wizard would have seen off years ago’. Be so fucking real right now. Fuck you man. She saved your sorry arse TWICE. She kept you and your family alive for TEN YEARS. SHES THE ONLY REASON YOU DIDN’T WATCH YOUR TEN Y/O KID GET VIOLENTLY MURDERED. SIT TF DOWN.