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#this is a joke but like.... Imagine
randomprose · 2 years
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the "tumblr community invents a whole mafia movie apparently directed by martin scorsese with an official soundtrack, movie posters, screen caps, and all enough to make one question if that movie really did exist at all like a mandela effect" was not part of my 2022 bingo card
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you’re borrowing your boyfriend!jason todd’s…
hoodie
it’s big, it’s warm, and it smells like your big warm boyfriend. of course you stole it. luckily jason runs hot..or that’s what he tells you at least. the man gets cold too, but he’d never tell you that. not when you look so cozy in his sweatshirt.
sweats
your favorite thing of his to match with his hoodie. his sweatpants are super warm, super soft, and super baggy. meant for ultimate comfort. jason loves it when you go full out sweatsuit in his clothes. like, loves it. you’re like his own personal teddy bear to hold on to while he falls asleep. who needs sweats when he has you to keep him warm..in his.
t shirt
sometimes, when the weather’s warmer, you’ll steal one of jason’s shirts to thrown on over a pair of panties. you’re oblivious to the fact that this combination makes jason go absolutely buck wild. somehow you’ve never made the connection. but more than once he’s found you sprawled across the couch, watching tv, and ended up going down on you. his head nestled between your thighs as you grip his raven locks. his hands are fisted into the loose fabric of his shirt that you’re wearing. he’s not satisfied until your legs are shaking, your moans intermingling with the wet, borderline pornographic, sounds that he’s creating with his mouth on your clit. he never lets you get him back either, even though you know he was grinding his crotch against the couch, chasing that sweet friction and release along with you. but he always just sits you atop his lap after, kissing your cheek as he brushes your hair out of your face. grips your thigh as he makes a comment about the show playing, your panties long forgotten on the floor.
underwear
you never get very far wearing a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers. for one, they’re pretty loose on you, so you have to roll the waistband a couple times, which just gives jason a prime view of your ass. they also just make it so easy for him to get his hand down the front, his strong fingers expertly finding your clit like he’s memorized a map of your body. which, in some ways, he has. it’s not long before you’ve come, once, twice, almost a third time, and he’s pulling his own boxers off to free his stiff cock. it points out, the tip leaking, and you’re opening your legs wider without even realizing it. he grabs your waist, sliding you closer to the edge of the bed, making sure you’re ready before he slides in, burying himself in you. he bottoms out, and you’re throwing your head back, a third orgasm threatening to crest as he starts up a rhythm. the muscles of his stomach ripple as he thrusts in and out. one of his hands is on your waist, the other slowly snaking its way back down to your clit. your toes curl at the feel of his calloused thumb rubbing circles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. he’s groaning, low in his throat, at the way you look on his cock. it never gets old for him, ever. the way your cheeks flush, how adorable your blown out pupils are when you look up at him. your wet lashes, your messy hair. your entrance clenches around his cock as you come a third time, your hands gripping the bed sheets. jason comes along with you, groaning loudly as he paints your insides with white ropes of cum. he pulls out, wetting a washcloth in the bathroom. the wet, warm fabric feels like heaven against your sensitive folds, your boyfriend wiping away the mixture of fluids between your legs. you feel pleasantly boneless, sinking into the pillows at the head of the bed. your boyfriend cleans himself up after, settling into bed next to you. jason wraps his strong arms around you, and it’s better than any clothes you might steal. but what you don’t know, is that he’d let you steal his clothes anytime.
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finedinereception · 4 months
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“lilith got charlie in the divorce” “lucifer got charlie in the divorce” actually alastor got her
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a couple scribbles i cleaned up. also i think i like drawing him in varying states of distress
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rendevok · 10 months
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favorite thing ♡
the inspo:
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aaaaand some inner dialogue for your viewing pleasure:
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horsemeatluvr23 · 12 days
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i had a dream where etho accidentally called bdubs 'john' on stream,, and in retaliation bdubs said 'yes horace'..... and that's how we found out etho's real name is freaking. Horace.
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jakkenpoy · 9 months
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ministarfruit · 4 months
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day 18: once upon a time ♡
(femslashfeb prompt list)
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zarla-s · 3 months
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i bet someone's done this before but i DID IT ANYWAY
(inspired by this video)
[patreon]
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kaninchen-reblogs · 2 years
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While you’re out arguing whether necromancers or illusionists are more evil, the evocation caster just set 15 people and various nearby inanimate objects on fire, which is a clear breach of Protocol III of The United Nations Convention on Certain Conventional Weapons, thus constituting a war crime. In this essay I will —
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90ekz · 1 year
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katsuki in the gym is so distracting to everyone.
it’s not like he’s one of those annoying guys who grunts really loudly while lifting or slams his weights down, no.
he’s actually pleasant, always making sure to not purposefully disturb anyone and cleaning his machines off after use.
and it’s not like he dresses overtly sexy or anything. he just… draws attention, naturally.
katsuki can walk in the weight room with sweats and a tank top, and the whole room will pause and stare like he’s naked or sumn. it confuses him sometimes, but being the lil shit he is, it probably boosts his ego.
i’m a firm believer that he’s a cardio guy, though.
when people see his impeccable form and ridiculous speed, they just can’t help but stare. hell, even the front desk worker gets stumbled over her words just saying hello.
after one of his sessions, katsuki remembered that he needed to renew his membership, and he did so.
lemme tell you, that poor girl didn’t hear a word that came out of his mouth but “membership”. how could she? he was wet with sweat, sweats hanging low, and tank top sticking to his sculpted body.
he raised an eyebrow when she didn’t respond to a question.
“you sick or somethin’?”
sir this entire gym wants to fuck you. you are a distraction to everyone LMFAO
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potatobugz · 6 months
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dugon my friend my buddy my pal
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ikarakie · 1 year
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the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.
he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.
the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.
he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.
"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.
"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.
wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.
"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.
"changing your tire, sir?"
"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.
"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.
was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."
"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.
he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.
"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"
it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.
"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"
wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.
(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.
when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.
steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)
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itsamenickname · 1 year
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Bowser: *adjusts his bowtie before holding out his hand* Let's rule the world, together. Forever. Will you marry me?
Luigi: *staring at Bowser with an annoyed expression as he's tied to a chair and also wearing Peach's dress and wig*
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buttlerina · 9 months
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They know he's neither but they still like to refer to him as "the straight cis friend"
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