#and I don’t know the answer

[thestarsarecool]

Does [Ono] feel close to McCartney?

“I think it’s a very strange situation. We were kind of like stuck with a situation for 30 or 40 years, so we understand each other—let’s put it that way. What he said in Esquire [Paul complained about how Yoko used to say he only booked the studio and Lennon-centric revisionism], I think he’s really right. I mean, he must have suffered a lot, just like I suffered more or less the same thing in a way. So I understand. I’m sympathetic to him for having all sorts of pain. Most people think that Paul or me should not have any pain at all because we are so privileged. But it’s not true. The degree of pain is always there.”

Does she feel they need to forgive each other in some way?

“No, no. We had to come to terms with the past in some way. Both of us are pretty self-sufficient in that sense.”

Yoko Ono in Daily Beast, 2015

[stinkybrowndogs]

I mean I get that’s it’s not the only contributing factor, but I’m curious exactly how much of the shelter dog over-population problem is actually due to poor dog ownership/management vs the housing crisis and economical stress. I’d be willing to bet by investing in social programs that give people the resources they need to care for their pets (cough cough affordable and free housing cough cough) that the amount of pets in shelters would dramatically drop. We can all sit here pointing fingers and screaming at each other until we are blue in the face, but if the owners basic needs are not being met, how can we hold them to a basic standard for their pets?

[glossysoap]

maybe someday

to the anon who asked this (but tumblr ate it) -> “You are in a room with the 141. You can only fuck one and the other three spent the entire time talking about technique. Who doing what?”

tw 18+, afab/fem reader, no ageless blogs or minors, bit of degradation towards the rest of the 141 (implying that they wouldn’t be able to fuck her like he can)

Price 100%. I’m sure you’re shocked.

Listen, he’s the Captain and he knows how to fuck you just right - better than anyone else. He knows exactly where to touch, kiss, bite, what angle to rut into at. He has every noise memorized just like he’s memorized the way your cunt squeezes him.

Now instead of just talking about the technique, Price is making them memorize how he fucks you. He’s making them all take notes as he has your legs pressed up against your chest as far as they’ll go, cock buried to the hilt in your soaked cunt.

He’s asking them, “Y’ see that? See how she’s grippin’ me so tight? Don’t think you’d know how it feels but,” he pauses with a cruel thrust into you that makes you cry out. “Maybe someday.”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission

[potato-lord-but-not]

someone asked how the boyfriends would be with Faroe after Kayne brings her back, and sorry for being a downer but I’m on the “Arthur doesn’t get Faroe back” hill so I initially wasn’t gonna ponder about it.

And then I started pondering. weeks later. and decided I can indulge just this once because tbh I need more adorable Faroe in my life (we all do). I indulged a little too much tho and decided to make an actual post instead of answering the ask so HERE WE ARE

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met

[burst-of-iridescent]

if he’s your man then why is he jumping in front of lightning for me after he dumped your ass in prison and forgot about you

[ao3-crack]

(x)

[timbit-robin-art]

Can you doodle Jean and Scott, please? 🙏

Their relationship makes me very sad, but I think in a good way (when it’s written well). It’s hard to describe. So I offer Jean helping Scott through a migraine instead of yapping.

[sandeewithtwoe]

I saw that comic about Blue asking Color to join the Stars, and I wanted to ask if you could do a similar comic, but it's Delta who is asked to join the Stars( by either Dream or Ink)

There’s no license to kill in the Star Sanses unfortunately

I think at first they would accept him gladly, but then realize that he kinda has… murder tendencies

And for those who don’t know, the anon was talking about this comic

Delta belongs to Animated Zorox

Dream belongs to Jokublog

Color sans belongs to Superyoumna

Transcript:

Blue: Hey Dream! I found someone to join our group!

Dream: Really?!

Delta: Heya! The name’s Delta

Blue: <- proud of himself

Delta: No need to introduce yourself, I’ve already heard so many stories about you!

Dream: So it’s true? You want to join the Star Sanses?

Delta: Absolutely!

Delta: Saving AUs from evil guys is just what I do

Dream: That’s so great-

Delta: And I’ll KILL anyone who dares disturb peace!

Delta:… What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?

(Some time later)

Delta: (grumble grumble…) Bunch of cowards… Not like I wanted to join anyways…

[hellboundhimbo]

WOE MEME DUMP BE UPON YE here’s part 1 lol

ignore the fact the last one is in a completely different format than the rest of them xoxo it wasn’t planned to be part of the dump but i figured id include it.

[jewelleria]

I know it's not how you rationalize it to yourself, but your posts about Israel/palestine come off as a support of the destruction of Gaza and ethnic cleansing of Palestinians. Insisting that it's a war (Palestine isn't allowed to have an army, and Israel cannot claim self-defence against a territory they occupy), denying that Israel is at fault, obscuring support of Palestine in general as being motivated by antisemitism - it paints a picture.

At least 30 000, probably closer to 100 000 Palestinians have been killed as of now. That is so monumentally worse than anything currently happening to Israel / zionists. So when you spend most of your energy focusing on those wrongs, or insisting that people talking about Palestine should focus on them, it comes off as brushing it off or trying to diminish its importance.

You don't have to answer, as I'll be blocking you, but I'm asking you to please consider what you're willing to support, excuse or tone down, and why. I know what it's like to be too focused on the discrimination we're facing to really take in what other groups might be going through.

hey anon, that's some great useful idiot syndrome you got there. how much college debt did you go into to earn it?

[wispscribbles]

Just gotta say I’m absolutely delighted you don’t give ghost chiseled ass abs, that man needs all the strength he can get and the meat on his bones feels much more realistic/healthy than him having vanity esc muscles :)

Manifesting your days are well!! <3

Big. Big man. Mountain to climb :)

Hope your days are well, too! Thank you <3

[sharkenedfangs]

What do I need to do to get a fic of sub crossdressing male pc begging Bailey to be their first time ( first everything really)? I don't even care about wether PC gets railed like we wish, I honestly highkey just want your take on it.

— ☆ “SIMMERING BENEATH.”

— sucks when your annoyingly bratty, yet pretty bastard of an opthan manages to get past your tight-held clutches, doesn’t it? mister bailey. 1.8k wc

— “the fuck do you want, asher?” : wrote this on the way back home, so on the sort of.. subway thingies, it’s not called that where I am, but they do resemble that and felt fucking nauseous, so apologies in advance if it’s shit. was too good to fully pass up on this one, though couldn’t turn it into a full-on lengthy one due to being busy with other current things. still tried to input every aspect you’ve asked for. yeah, may it be up to your standards then, anon.

Fucking fuck.

No, hell— that wouldn’t truthfully encapsulate the sheer idiocy of his muddled actions even then, because god— fucking shit, why would a man of the likes of Bailey — relatively known, if not factually remembered as the cold, logical one in town — stupidly fall for some mere trickery, childish ploy fabricated by your own stubborn whims? Or, to be quite precise, those pathetic taunts of yours that any man possessing the slightest nerve of a goddamn functional brain, wouldn’t have dumbly caved in to.

Talking about the depraved perverts that’d foolishly slip between the evidently, way too small cracks unfitting for their same, way too fucking large bodies — of the barely opened windows the dumb orphans would forgetfully leave behind. Shakily pawing with sweat slicked hands at some brat’s snoozing body before they’d eventually be chased off by the mere sight of his approaching figure inevitably barging in, hastily mutter on about their prestigious status and so on— fuck, never really truly listened to the shoddy bastards. How Bailey was no man to rudely kick ‘em out of the own crappy establishment he was sloppily running with a twinge of cruelty ever present in his cold gaze.

Yeah, he’s no damn better than those perverted fuckers right about now— possibly worse, but shit, no way in fucking hell will he potentially admit to that despite the cooling air annoyingly caressing his bare skin, sticky sweat clinging onto his flushed flesh nor the disheveled mess of his habitually, slicked back hair partially obscuring his hazy vision of this.. well, fuck— say it or not, admittedly, fucking hot sight shamelessly greeting him in return. Loosened, pristine white dress shirt untucked in face of this, to give forth to a discreet glimpse of one of the numerous tattoos snaked along the surface of his toned figure.

Slightest pout of your rosy, puckered lips he’d unconsciously find himself eyeing for far too long when thoroughly denied for the day by your daily, insistent questioning. Pop your cherry, you had confidently said with a noticeably excited shake of your fists. Might as well endlessly yap his ear off with that unrealistic request of yours— a pitiful plea that somehow, without fully realizing as to how and why — is currently happening within the otherwise narrow confines of his private office. Solely dedicated to calmly concentrate on each and every one of his gruelling tasks. Namely, neatly sorting out the thin sheets of paper openly displaying pertinent information to the numerous orphans residing here, registering the missing few that’d either go in running like some mindless moron or be plainly sold off to a godforsaken hell he held no genuine interest in— Fuck, fuck. You get the gist by now, there.

A well-deserved punishment is what this all is, simply was for that matter, and hah— you seem to be willingly taking it, although, can’t truly say he’s all that suprised. Brat. It’s what you are. Stupidly nosy brat who couldn’t hope to obediently keep his supple hands to himself for the shitty life of him. One that’d so ironically, perfectly fit all too well underneath the weight of his calloused palms restricting your bashful squirming— now contentedly facing the eventual consequences of your impulsive actions with a gleeful smile tracing your curved lips. Rhythmic squeaking of the wooden, chipped desk the man had sworn to fucking god, promised to dearly replace whenever was soonest possible and, well, he’s received his all-time excuse to be snidely given to those thugs.

A cum coated piece of furniture is just about a good reason to be neatly reinstalled with something sharper, newer— something along the lines of that, the bigger the better, probably.

Speaking of big.. Shit, he’s undeniably fucked.

“Don’t you fucking look at me like that, you ungrateful little bastard. I’m putting a roof over your head and a place to stay so— fuck, the least you can do is fucking pay me back on time, but can’t even do that, can you?” Habitually stern is what he’s evidently known best for amongst the nosy orphans, yet that usual bite in his gruff voice is almost.. pitifully lacking in face of whatever the fuck this is— yeah, actually he’s got a clue what it is. Inwardly cursing at how his hips automatically snap back in one sharp motion to then, merely slap forward— flush against your reddened ass. Riddled, fresh marks traced along the entirety of your curved back nor your spread asscheeks for that matter, shouldn’t be looking so infuriatingly pretty after all that harsh spanking he’s had you withstand. Take it as the start of your relatively tame punishment coming from a stone cold man like him, that’s what.

“Like what? A satisfied client? Hah— this is the best day of my life, y’know. Feels so fuckin’ good, Bailey— please don’t stop..” Of-fucking-‘course you’ve already had whatever comment prepared to hurriedly retort back within your noisy mouth, despite being so crudely bent over a flat surface like this. Particularly whiny moan drawn out at the feel of his thick cock satisfyingly stretching you full, sinfully defiling you from virginity itself. Pervertedly spread open with your dizzyingly warm, honeyed— fuck, did he really just think of your hole like that?? Must be losing his goddamn mind. Correct, your fucking hole is the one irreversibly altering his unwavering principles. So fuck you, really.

Sloppy, squelchy noises, all too annoyingly addictive to hear, of your tight, puckered heat fervently sucking his fat cock in, coating it all sticky and wet with your slippery, pink insides. Instinctively hissing at the knee-buckling sight of his veiny length repeatedly remerging and disappearing deep inside because shit— can’t get enough of it. So much so his rough thumbs are subconsciously spreading that tender flesh wide open for his unrelenting, stern gaze to gawk at. Not to mention, those frilly lines adorning that stupidly short skirt, bouncing in tandem with each ruthless thrusts slapped to your backside. Admittedly adorable, cute cock clumsily bobbing from the ruthlessly loud smacks of the caretaker’s fat balls sloppily slapping upon the flush of your ass, teasing— no, irrefutably taunting him by the subtle glimpse of your dribbling, wet dick peeking from beneath that skirt.

Like to play dress up, don’t you? Sneakily slip in those overly feminine, lacy garments the elder man would’ve notably poked fun at the sissies that unabashedly wore such clothings back in his day— ironically enough, now he’s finding himself, balls deep into said ‘sissy’. Meanly tugging at the silken material snugly encircling your flailing legs, neatly tied bows bound to predictably come undone given the unrelenting bounces of your shared figures. Unable to keep still when you’re being fucked or something?

Little, incompetent brat. Constantly managing to crawl underneath his skin, reach the deepest parts within him the caretaker has progressively learned to conceal beneath this ruthlessly heartless facade. Not that Bailey’s the nicest man to begin with, but hell— favouring a good for nothing, admittedly appealing to the eyes— meddling boy like you wasn’t on his fucking wish list either.

Should be crudely wiping off that joyous grin etched upon your features if you actually know what’s good for you. Though, doubt you will.

Fine. He’s not necessarily against doing the honours for you. Frustratingly fuck out the undeniable audacity ever so present in your every movements when carelessly distracting him during work hours— time meant to be initially spent for focusing and godfuckingdammit, merely thinking back on it has him obscenely gritting his teeth, further tightening his unrelenting grip planted along your — sure to be bruised later, which you’re naturally paying the price of it — hips. Heaving groans mixed along with some curses which are presumably directed at you, if not at himself, that he’s uncertain of, really. All he’s stupidly conscious of is the undeniable fact that you might’ve coincidentally, if not intentionally, gotten him dizzyingly drunk off your previously undefiled hole.

Fuck, must be that then. Overly aware of what you’re currently doing to him, aren’t you?

‘S that it? Your admittedly, badly thought out plan simmering deep within your mind, happily tugging at his heartstrings in hopes of getting your mean caretaker to fuck your virgin holes full of cum? Well, all to say— you’ve graciously received what your bratty, stupidly pretty ass has fervently been desiring for all along, huh? Ain’t that right? So in return, it’s only fair that he greedily takes whatever he so pleases, whenever or wherever— that is of no importance then, whether it be comfortably settled atop his lap during office hours or slung along your knees to dutifully service him. “God, don’t you dare fucking move— just— just fucking stay like. Yeah, just like— hah, that.” Got no qualms whatever position that might be in, too caught up in the tender feel of your soft flesh underneath his punishing grasp to sluggishly catch on what’s spilling forth from his swollen red, oozing tip because.. shit, got him cumming— not just plain ol’ cumming, but mortifyingly enough, squirting prematurely too. Effectively painting your stretched walls in a sticky, white mess of his seed, inwardly cursing at himself for potentially letting things stretch on further than they were initially meant to.

Yet as ironic as it may be, his unwavering pride naturally beckons him in turn or is it the petulant whine longingly drawled out from between your rosy lips at the sole thoughts of your time together being cut short? Right— ‘course, what else would it be that’d have you miserably whimper so? Didn’t cum yet, did you? Obediently took his fat load sickeningly dripping free from your sore, used up hole without any sort of complaint, gaze momentarily flicking downwards to the pearly droplets of his cum progressively trickling down the length of your suspended legs laid along the precarious edge of his oaky desk.

Similar to how an opportunist excitedly pounces on every chance set before him— hah, he’s never been much like Eden to cowardly hide amongst the oaky, wooden trees to begin with. Huddle within the shadowy forest in a futile hope that mere distance might erase the muddled past; the foggy, far-away town altogether from their collectively minds.

Rather take part in the animalistic feast even if it would’ve eventually spelled utter ruin for himself, inevitable defeat one cannot simply crawl out of sheer will. And maybe, that said ruin, is delicately staring at him right in the face with a fucked out look stretch upon your features, pupils blown wide with a hint of saliva gracing the corner of your pouty lips that he— fuck, can’t help it, really— have his calloused thumb stroke at, soon swiftly followed by the immediate puckering of your overly attentive mouth suckling along the digit. Incidentally coating it in a slippery wet layer of your spit that you, of course, joyfully take advantage of by stifling a wanton moan right ‘round it.

Shit, going to be the goddamn death of him.

That eventually faith patiently awaiting for him, doesn’t sound so bad when your cum stained, little needy self is notably factored in that messy equation after all.

[littlexdeaths]

a continuation of some thoughts from this post… alluding to some spicy tomfoolery so 18+ only!

“Hey… uh,” Robin whispers, nudging your side. “I think you’re being summoned?”

Before you even glance up, you already have an inclination of what you’re about to see.

Your boyfriend.

He’s standing across the room, engaging in a conversation with Steve. While he’s not looking at you, he doesn’t have to be to get his message across.

His hands are tucked behind his back, out of the view of his conversation partner. But it’s what his hands are doing that has tipped not only Robin off, but whoever else was paying attention to him.

He’s practically fingering his own fist, the action becoming more frantic now that he knows you’re looking. You can’t help but roll your eyes in response to his antics, your lips curling up into a small smile.

It’s time to go apparently…

“Well, that’s my cue… I’ll see you later, Robs.”

You give her a sideways hug, missing the way she shakes her head in slight disapproval when you make your way over to the pair.

“Hey, Eds?” you ask gently, resting your hand on his shoulder. “I think I’m ready to go home.”

You put on your best act, as not to offend poor Steve— who has no idea what has just transpired. You say your quick goodbyes before Eddie takes your hand, curling his arm around your waist to start leading you towards the door.

“Thank god, I thought we’d never leave,” he whispers in your ear once you cross the threshold.

You stop him then, turning to glance up at him with a shit eating grin.

“Well… when Gondor calls for aid, Rohan must answer.”

“Oh, fuck…” Eddie groans, his eyes nearly rolling back from your words. “I love when you talk nerdy to me, baby.”

He swallows your giggles in a sloppy kiss before he picks you up, practically tossing you over his shoulder in an overly dramatic, boyish manner.

Let’s just say you barely make it to the van that night…

[sevenines]

i saw this tweet and found it interesting for two reasons. one is that some people base how good cartoon network would be to toh by how it treated su, and despite the fact that su’s treatment by the network was considered poor at the time, now its thought to be exceptionally good in comparison to modern shows.

two is how exactly su got impacted by a limited budget. a common criticism is how characters like connie, peridot, and lapis are left out of missions. but balancing a lot of characters is not only hard but also costly (extra animation, extra voices—it’s been revealed that the show is limited to a set number of characters per episode otherwise they’re over budget). animation mistakes are not uncommon since retakes cost extra. the entire reason the original show got cut short was due to loss of funding!

[wetpuppets]

what type of vampires are the vampires in the lost boys

gay ones