#onetwothreefour

[punk70]

𝑅𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠, 𝐶𝐵𝐺𝐵, 𝐴𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑙 10𝑡𝒉, 1979.

©𝐵𝑜𝑏 𝐺𝑟𝑢𝑒𝑛.

[gl1tchrix]

Time to rant about falsettos racquetball.

In falsettos we only get to see two instances of Marvin and Whizzer playing racquetball. The second one serves as a segue into Whizzer’s sickness, but the first one, or rather the fact that they play racquetball in general is what I want to focus on.

They don’t outright say it but to me, and likely to many others, the two men playing this game together is a testament to Marvin’s growth as a character. In every way, racquetball serves as a direct contrast to the chess game towards the end of act one.

The chess game is Marvin’s desire for control. He wants to win, he wants others to follow him, he always wants to be right and be in charge. He wants to be smart, he wants to be the best. He’s arrogant and self centered.

Racquetball is the opposite. Even in the physical sense. In chess, one must sit down and think precisely about every move. Racquetball is fast paced and you’re constantly moving. But what it shows is that Marvin now knows that his love for Whizzer is more important than all of those selfish things before. He’s ok with being bad at something. He is jokingly disappointed when he loses or makes a mistake, but he’s also happy to do something with Whizzer that Whizzer will always win.

The racquetball games are proof that Marvin has a better understanding of love. It’s no longer self serving but instead a true partnership. He doesn’t expect to be treated like a king, but finally as an equal. It makes both of them so much happier and their relationship so much more fulfilling.

Not to mention, that’s what makes the second round of racquetball games so sad. Whizzer collapses while doing the thing that was so fun for him and Marvin. Their last happy and innocent memory is the game that helped them overcome their strongest relationship struggles.

Anyways this is too long I’m done now I’m gonna go cry about them.

[artisticmedley]

I have this additional problem where i know the written word, and i know the spoken word, but i have not connected the two in my mind. Such as thinking "ek-zee-ma" when reading it but correctly pronouncing eczema as "exma" in speech, because to me they were two different words - until i read it out loud in class and heard someone say "did you just say ek-zee-ma?"

Anyway guess who just learned that epitome and epitome are the same word.

I, like I suspect many of the tumblr populace, ran into the issue in my youth of reading a lot of words I never heard spoken. My vocabulary has always been above average but my implementation is often flawed.

Like the day I told my dad I was the epitome of something and he laughed in my face. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t correctly intuit the emphasis. (Mine was Ep-i-TOME vs Ep-i-to-ME).

My dad didn’t apologize for his rudeness but after my initial disgruntlement I just learned to roll with it. I’d get corrected and laugh it off. Some words were more frustrating though because it necessitated having to rework the word in my brain every time I read it. Like a few years ago when I learned I’d had “seneschal” wrong for decades. (I can’t explain why I thought it was sen-shull and not sen-es-shawl)

I learned that I had harbinger wrong during a Transformers movie without needing to embarrass myself. Thanks, Shia Lebouf. (Har-bing-er (wrong) made way more sense than har-binge-er (right) but no one asked me)

At this point in my life though I’ve managed to work out most of the kinks. I don’t often get corrected anymore.

But there’s one other snag that crops up between me and my beloved. I’ll confidently say a word and they’ll go, “That’s not how that’s pronounced.”

“Yes it is,” I’ll say, very firmly. Because in these cases I’ll generally have heard with my ears and repeated a word verbatim. I’ll know I heard it, so it can’t be wrong.

And pretty much every time I’ll be saying the British pronunciation instead of the American one. I’ve consumed enough British media that often it’s the only time I heard certain words said and I never realized American English handles it differently.

In some cases I’ll switch to the accepted American one. But they can pry machismo out of my cold dead hands, the American version is so stupid I can’t even handle it. I now recognize we stole the Spanish word but we made it worse.

[arminsumi]

ㅤ★ ONETWOTHREEFOUR — MAX!

... bully!Gojo loves fucking you in the bathroom stall, turning his creampies into whipped cream inside you. But you know what else he loves? Plugging you up with a vibrator and surprising you by turning it on mid-lecture — and passing the control over to his best friend.

ㅤ★ requested by anon / promptlist

ㅤ★ cws; strictly no under 18s, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, secret public sex/nearly caught (poor confused Choso just getting moaned at), multiple orgasms/creampies, remote toy control, Suguru gets passed the remote, dirty talk, some spanking/ass slapping

There's just no way he can reach your little hole without bending his knees — and still you have to be poised on your tippy toes to let him fuck you.

Body shuddering with your hands splayed against the bathroom stall's pretty pink wall, your skirt fisted in his big hands and your thong pushed to the side of your puffy lips, bully!Gojo thrusts into your poor overused pussy 'till she cries, 'till she gushes, 'till he groans and releases another cumload against your cervix, 'till he turns his creampies into whipped cream.

Sure, his cockhead is oversensitive from plunging into your wet walls, and his balls are sore from slapping into your poor puffy clit for creampie after creampie, and yeah, there's cum dripping down the front of his thighs— but he's fucking you to put you in your place. And with how addicted he is to the feeling of being inside you, getting his pretty pink cock hugged tight by your walls, he just can't stop now.

His hips practically move on their own. His cock keeps telling him not to pull out just yet — it's telling him let's let her have it.

In mock affection, he presses his sweaty cheek against your forehead, white wispy bangs sticking to your skin, eyes glued to your jiggling breasts, big hand coming down to rub your clit. "Insensitive, huh?" he asks in a dangerous coo, "I'll show ya how fucking insensitive I can be." and with that, he's frantically massaging circles on your super fucking sensitive clit.

"Ah! Fuck! T-t-toruuu, I'm sorry! I didn't even mean it, I was just a-angryyy!" you sob out, feeling his mean cockhead rubbing sweet spots deep inside you.

His clit rubbing is ruthless, and he's a messy boy you know he doesn't care that his fingers and palm are coated with your slick.

"Nah, you meant it." he grunts back, blue eyes piercing you with a glare, hips pounding into you from the back, muscles twitchy 'n tensing, "Now stay still 'n take it. I told'ya I was gonna fuck that attitude out of ya, didn't I?"

You let out a strangled moan at his words, nearly going limp against the shuddering bathroom stall's wall. Satoru presses your head against it, smushing your cheek, getting rougher by the second.

He's still tightly fisting your skirt in his hand, other hand sometimes tugging harshly on your pathetically tiny thong — the one he told you to wear today, or else he's gonna throw one of his spoiled rich boy tantrums. He can't resist groping at your soft ass and spreading your ruby red smacked cheeks wide.

Satoru momentarily stills inside you, choking you up with how deep he chooses to keep his throbbing cock, and then he repositions himself; sharp polished black shoes clicking as he spreads his long legs further apart.

"New angle, hope ya like it." he jokes, angling his cock so it curves right against the gummy roof of your pussy, right against that spot.

"Oh fuck!" you cry out when he starts pounding up into your hole, nearly lifting you off your feet with the force of each thrust, makin' your sweaty body jiggle erotically.

He watches you widen your eyes when his cock hits a sweet spot just right, the one that makes your eyes twitch in pleasure 'n your knees buckle.

You're gushing around him, totally soaking his length, pussy too full of his gooey creampies 'n now they're leaking out and running down your thighs.

His cock hits that damn sweet spot again, with more precision than before.

"Oh fuck, fuck! Right there! Fuck me right there, 'Toru!" you chokingly moan, feeling a shockwave of pleasure pulse from your pussy to every point in your body.

"Damn, chill." he chuckles.

Chill? Of course he'd say that while he's fucking you like he's trying to get you cockdrunk. He's pounding into your gummy walls 'n rubbing your clit with this hate-fueled determination.

All you did was talk back to him in class. Just a cutesy little snide remark. You thought it would turn him on. Well, it did turn him on — it also turned his gaze cold and wiped the smirk off his face. Two things that sent shivers down your spine.

Oh, I'm fucked.

The way he leaned back and hummed had your pussy twitching, already getting wet at the thought of what he was gonna do to put you back in your place.

Whiiich brings us back to the last bathroom stall of the men's bathroom, the stall in which your bully is fucking up your guts and turning you into his personal cocksleeve.

He's close, you can tell because that's when his steady, deep strokes slow and he takes two inches out so he can rub annoyingly back and forth across his favorite ridge inside your pussy. And his tell-tale signs? Choppy breathing, brows twisted together, tightened grip on your body, 'n he's got this psychotic smile forming on his face which he likes to press against your sweaty forehead to let ya know how much he's enjoying bullying you.

Just feeling all his cum getting fucked out of your quivering hole makes you want to cum again. It's almost scary. What if you fall apart? You might even scream this time. Nah, who cares honestly? You can't control how your walls squeeze his cock now even though he bitterly scolds you for being too tight, too tiny to take him all.

You can hardly hear the nasty vocabulary he's using on you, 'cause you're too fucked-out on his thick cock, not even caring if the squelching sounds and choking moans escape under the door and echo down your college's corridors. Even if anyone barged in, Satoru would probably just do what he did last week — when someone barged into the spare room while he was in heat 'n balls deep in your pussy — tell 'em to fuck off.

"Fuck me." Satoru groans, "That hot little pussy 's gonna make me cum... 'm gonna cum... gonna fill you up... ahah... fuck."

He's just the type to giggle during the buildup to his orgasm. It sounds almost psychotic — yeah, you knew from day one that he's crazy and his cock is crazy.

His cock gets hotter, then it bursts with thick ropes of cum once again. The both of you savor in the feeling. It's in the aftershocks of his orgasm that Satoru wonders if he's actually falling in love with you.

Then he snaps-to.

"Shit, you're a fucking mess." Satoru grins almost sadistically, sweating like crazy under his uniform.

You're just shivering against the wall as he eases his cum-coated cock out your pussy, sliding past your folds. Cheek smushed against the wall, face looking like you just saw heaven for an hour, you're relishing the buzzy afterglow of getting fucked dumb by your bully.

His hard slap on your ass brings you back to reality. You hear the sound of him pulling his pants up his long legs, dragging up his zipper. The click of his button. Then he plants another hard slap on your stinging cheek.

You groan, teasingly wiggling your cum-filled pussy, feeling his big hands groping the plush of your cheek and spreading it to reveal your twitchy holes — and he just keeps grinning, watching his seed ooze out 'n drip down your pretty thighs — those thighs that are the reason he chased you in the first place.

You'd think he's looking at the Mona Lisa with how he marvels at the sight — but nah, it's just his white, gooey creampies smeared across your lips and inner thighs. "Aw, don't let it drip out or 'm gonna need to plug ya up..."

Trembling, you listen to him unzipping his backpack and rifling around. "What d'you mean?" you ask, looking back at him with a dazed afterglow on your face, but when you do he's already sliding something into your pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck!" you squirm, feeling that hot pink toy push inside and stretch open your cum-soaked walls again. "I'm so tired, gimmie a break!"

"Relaaax, it's just to plug ya up..." he grins mischievously.

"Oh... o-okay... if you say so."

Oh, but what a liar he is.

It's ten minutes after you and him cleaned up and scurried off to your class and took your seats.

Shit — late again. You curse Satoru and his dummy big cock as you settle down.

... then you feel something start to buzz inside you.

"Oh!?" you let out a small gasp.

Vibrations against your sweet spots make your eyes flicker. Your filled pussy freaks out, spasming and twitching like crazy around the toy.

You give a glare of disbelief back at Satoru, who sat two rows behind and above you — duh, so he could always get a nice view of your breasts.

He sees you. He smirks. He raises a pink little controller shaped like a flat egg, and tauntingly shakes it in his hand before clicking a button.

One notch up.

"Nn!" you tighten around the toy.

He watches you freak out from afar, his sweaty face contorting into a diabolically naughty smirk.

Two notches up. Three notches. Off. Onetwothreefour — you gulp and smack the desk — earning a look from your seatmate, Choso.

The toy temporarily turns off.

"... sorry, this question is just so frustrating." you apologize, playing off your random desk smack.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I'm failing this class for sure."

"S-same, honestly." you reply shakily, soothingly rubbing up and down your clenched thighs.

You text Satoru with fervency.

You

'just a plug' my ass! wtf is this thing!

Toru

lol 🍑🔜 and chill... it's just a lil something i picked up for ya

You

ur the devil. i hate u.

Toru

ur hurting my feelings 🥺

Onetwothreefour — max!

"Fuck...!" you gasp again, feeling a dizzy rush as the toy buzzes at max deep inside your pussy.

Choso gives you a concerned side-glance.

"Sounds like you're really having a rough day." he jokes.

You look at him. He's sitting pretty close.

"You have no ideaaaaaahhhhhhh~" you moan back, accidentally cumming right there in front of your classmate.

Immediately clapping your hand over your mouth, you blink at him. Oh no... you just orgasmically moaned against poor, confused Choso's face.

His eyes widen. He blinks. " H u h ? "

Satoru sees this and slides down in his seat, holding in his laughter behind a toothy smile, pearly whites all on display. Now his best friend gives him a look.

"Satoru..." Suguru sighs, catching onto what was happening. "Give the girl a break."

"You wanna try?" he offers Suguru the remote control.

Suguru looks at it. He looks at you, then Satoru, then the toy... and takes it into his hand and chuckles with his best friend behind their textbooks, clicking it to a new pattern.

You just twitch your eyes and then shut them in pleasure, cursing the both of them in your mind while you feel your thighs tremble and feel the toy pulsing. Your pussy squeezes the pink silicone.

And you can hear those dastardly best friends giggling behind your back, watching you wiggle in pleasure, trying to contain your moans. Every time you glance back at them, Satoru makes mocking ahegao faces at you. Suguru just smirks and continues to play with the vibrator.

Oh, you were definitely gonna get 'em back for this.

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐓𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 💗

[smiley-mcdoggington]

HEYYYYY YALL LIKE FORD YEARNING IN THE WEIRDEST WAY POSSIBLE RIGHT? RIGHT! GREAT! TW GORE TW STANCEST

The distant cave doubled and tripled in his slowly narrowing vision as he waded through the tall grass, counting his own harsh pants in groups of four to focus on anything but the bone-deep ache in his side. One, two, three, four.

As soon as the light of the three blazing suns was cut away with the cool shade of the cave, he allowed himself to collapse against the stone wall. One, two, three, four.

Blood had seeped through his tattered jacket, a near perfect rhombus cut into the material from where that damn bird got him. He was originally going to give Ruth's species a more snappy nickname, but then Ruth got hungry. Damn bird is a good enough descriptor for her. One, two, three, four.

He shucked off his jacket, letting a dry sob echo off the cave walls when the gabardine brushed the wound. The strain of getting it off his arms made his head spin. He took a knee and focused on not losing what little he'd eaten. He tried to reach for the hem of his sweater but just the brush from his shaking hand made yarn dig further into exposed muscle. He'd run out of the muscle relaxant he had stolen three dimensions ago, he had to do this the hard way. One, two, three, four.

He tried grabbing at his sweater again and his hand nearly missed, he wanted to punch something but there was nothing but stone and he didn't want a broken finger on top of everything else. Instead, he took a deep breath, and spoke in a voice that wasn't his own. "Come on, Sixer." His voice rasped, finding the accent he'd trained himself out of like a familiar stranger. "You're tougher than this, yeah?" His voice shook just a little, but with the cave echoes he could almost pretend it wasn't him speaking. "You just gotta get that geeky sweater off, see what we're working with. We got this, we always do - one... two... three... - four!"

The tremble in his hands remained, but he grasped the edge of the cotton and yanked it over his head, cursing into the dark as the yarn was yanked away from his flesh, taking the beginnings of scabbing with it and letting fresh blood run down his hip anew. He pressed his forehead to the cold stone. Onetwothreefour--

Onetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefouronetwothreefour onetwo threefour one two three four--

He wanted to sleep, he was so tired, he knew it wss a bad idea but he was so tired and he just wanted it to stop. The tightness in his throat helped bring it to the higher pitch, though. One, two, three, four.

"Stanford get up." He demanded of himself in the quivering facsimile of Stanley's voice. "All you're doing now is bleeding out, you gotta get it together, Six." He said as his vision swam. He took his head away from the cool rock and looked down at the nip. Four eight inch slits, two in a V from his left side into his front and two more identical ones into his back. Blood soaked into his pants. How the hell was he gonna do this? His supplies were back at that damn bird's nest, he would bleed out before he made it back, bleed out in a damn cave on a damn deserted planet in a damn unremarkable dimension. Onetwo threefour.

"Sixer." His brother's voice snapped from his lips, and the echoes chased the spiraling from his mind. "You know what you gotta do. All you got is that fancy nerd blaster of - yours." His voice dropped at the end. It was risky - if Ruth had friends that could hear, or if he did it wrong, he could make the problem exponentially worse. He cleared his throat - it sounded more like a whimper. "Remember when we was ten and you got that wart on the back of your hand? Pa had to hold it over the stove to burn it off, and it hurt like a bitch, but then it was over and you could wear your boxing gloves right again, it didn't even hurt after the first day, yeah? This is just like that." He said, thinking about how that night he slept in the bottom bunk with Stanley and Stanley held him close and let Ford cry and snot and drool into his shirt because it scared him how easily Pa could hold him still. One, two, three, four.

He found the blaster on his belt, and aimed it at the mouth of the cave. He fired rounds in bursts of four until he could feel uncomfortable heat itching through the insulated handle. "You got this, Stanford." He said quietly to himself in a gravelly jersey accent. One, two, three, four

He pressed the hot metal against the first laceration, and screamed into the cave, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as he held the gun there for one, two, three four--

He yanked the gun away. "Go-good goin' - you--" He dry heaved against the smell - it reminded him of Stan. "You did it, Six - jus-just three more. You can do that, I know you can, we can do anything, yeah?" He choked out, firing more rounds as fast as he could, bolts of light and heat flying wildly into the tall grass. The next one was harder, his hands were trembling too hard, he almost missed the laceration he wanted to seal. Worthless platitudes stuttered out of his mouth between screams and sobs as he slowly, agonizingly sealed up the wounds. When he finally, finally finished, he nearly collapsed onto his discarded clothes. One... Two... Three... Four...

"Y-you did good, knew - knew you had the chutzpah fo-r something crazy like th-that. That's - that's my brother. You can take a nap now, it's okay. You'll be safe - pr-omise." Stan's voice echoed back at him, as he drifted off.

[amygdalae]

I've picked up a habit of compulsive counting whenever i have intrusive thoughts or embarrassing memories and it's usually just in my head but sometimes (especially when alone) I tend to mutter/whisper it out loud... like ill go "onetwothreefour, onetwothreefour...." kinda as a reflex. Huh

[threeeyedharemp3]

band that technically opened for me yesterday went like OKAY NOW ITS TIME FOR I HATE WASPS! ONETWOTHREEFOUR & i immediately got bodied by a 17 year old emo life is so beautiful

[waywardangel-wilds]

If you’re still taking prompts: someone convinces Katniss to sing (maybe she’s singing for some kids) and it’s the first time Peeta has heard her sing in a while. And she notices how enamored he looks with her. Truly a goner

I am never done taking prompts!!!

I also wrote two separate stories where this occurs! Here's the link to one that has multiple chapters and he’s the link to a one shot.

Now, here's what I wrote for you:

(Note: listen, I’m Canadian. We spoke French a lot in school so this is what I sang in music class lol)

“Ms. Katniss! Ms. Katniss! Can you sing the one about the all -ooh-ette?” Little Daisy May asked, hanging off from Katniss’s wrist excitedly.

Katniss chuckled, “you mean alouette? Sure.” She looked up at towards the rest of the music group. “Okay kids! Can you sit in a circle?” She clapped her hands twice. “Can you? Can you?”

The daycare group clapped twice in response, running to form a loose circle around their teacher. Katniss sat down on a nearby boulder as the children settled on the grass around her.

She’d taken to walking her class around the woods. The parents loved her for it, they were always saying the kids took a good long nap once they got back home from ‘music school.’ And Katniss didn’t mind, she had a whole book full of plant knowledge and no one to pass it down to. Plus, kids were fun company anyway.

“Let’s do a round,” she said pointing down the middle of the circle. “This half will start first and this half will wait for a four count. Can you count to four for me?”

The kids rolled their eyes but indulged her “one, two, three, four!!” “Onetwothreefour!” Some showed off their fingers to her and Katniss clapped, a smile bright on her face.

“Alright, alright, I’m just testing you is all.” She put her hands down on her lap. “And a one, two, a one, two, three!”

The first group started singing messily, as Katniss clapped along to keep them on beat. She looked towards the second group and snapped her fingers four times.

“Alouette, gentile alouette

Alouette, je te plumerai”

Katniss leaned back playfully and raised her voice in question:

“Je te plumerai la tête?” she asked

“Je te plumerai la tête!” The kids called back

Katniss cupped her hand around her ear “alouette?”

“Alouette!”

“Alouette?”

“Alouette!!”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!!” They sang together.

Katniss was laughing, clapping and singing the rest of the song with them when she looked up. Peeta was leaning against a tree behind the group. He was her second in command when it came to the nature walks and the holder of the kids snacks (she made him carry the cooler). He was looking at her with a smile on his face shaking his head at her antics. She motioned for him to join them.

“Mr. Peeta isn’t singing!” She told the kids with mock outrage. “That isn’t fair!”

“Mr. Peeta!” Some of the kids got up to pull him into the circle, “you have to sing!”

Peeta shot her a sheepish look but obliged. With his horribly tuneless voice he sang “je te plumerai la.. bec?”

“Je te plumerai la bec!”

[roisdevivre]

“Does it hurt?” @master!doctor

"Always."

The Doctor let out a wet, shaking hiss, a low, desolate sound. It took several seconds to realize... he was laughing.

"It's not supposed to be like this. She keeps... PUSHING ME. Rattling around, up here," he stabbed his pointer finger violently against the side of his temple. onetwothreefour. An old tic. Long since buried, with another body, now long gone. "Fighting me. She wants out. Wants control. But we should have thought of THAT back when we had the chance, shouldn't we, love?"

The clamoring of their multitude of past lives was incessant. Overwhelming. Too many Doctors. Too many Masters. Too many minds crammed into one space.

You did this to me. To us. We could have been different. Could have been better. But you had to go and leave us behind.

Never again.

"It hurts. It will always hurt."

She wants me out. We want us out.

Even I don't want me here.

The Master Doctor rocked forward on his heels, racing around the controls, his long coat and multicolored scarf flapping behind him as he went. His dark eyes were manic, full of pain and pressure as he began yanking on the controls with almost frenetic zeal.

"Have I ever taken you to see the Cascades of Ionia? Or how about the Revolution of Brutonia VI?" His eyes flashed to Dylan's, holding him under a piercing, yet strangely soft stare. Play with me. Run away with me. Make me forget.

"Come on, Dylan! Alons-y! Ooh, I REMEMBER the one who used to say that... MOLTO BENE! Let's do some TRAVELING, shall we? Where do you want to start?"

[xabiramone]

#DeeDeeFuckingRamone #DeeDeeKing #OneTwoThreeFour

[punk70]

𝑅𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑎𝑡 𝐶𝐵𝐺𝐵, 𝐽𝑜𝒉𝑛𝑛𝑦, 𝐽𝑜𝑒𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐷𝑒𝑒 𝐷𝑒𝑒 𝑅𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒.

[lokilysolbitch]

Me: no I can’t have dyscalculia I did advanced math

Also me:

-okay so it’s 3 objects here—wait onetwothree okay yeah three. Wait onetwothreefour wait wait onetwothree,,,,,onetwothree okay it’s 3

-no I can’t do math in my head bc the numbers change and jump around

- 7+5? that’s,,,,,,,,,so seven plus two—no seven plus three,,,,and then there’s,,,,,there’s two left,,,so it’s,,,,wait,,,, *starts holding my hands out* okay so it’s seven here and then five here so—

-sorry i can’t drive there i don’t know the route. i can’t use gps. no no it works i just don’t understand wtf it’s trying to tell me

-*couldn’t read an analog clock in middle school and had to use context clues and memorized shapes of the clock to figure out when class would be over* *still struggles with them and partly relies on context clues*

- okay so I need 3 and a half cups of flour but I’m halving the recipe . ummm *spends several minutes converting just the flour*

-you were born in 1988? okay so,,,,,,,,,so that’s um,,, so like,,,,so you’re like,,,, somewhere around 20-50??????¿

-I went to sleep at 1 and woke up at 8 so I slept for,,,,*counting on fingers* one to two two to three three to fo—

-what year did I start high school? uh like,,,,it was like,,,,, idk it was like,,,, when I was 14

-you said to write three hundred fifty thousand?? So like 305,0–wait 35,00-wait hold on so 300,5– hold on

-*stares at graph in confusion* i mean something is definitely decreasing maybe it’s—well the numbers are definitely changing

[larsbeelzebub]

ONETWOTHREEFOUR! A Tribute to Dee Dee Ramone - Digital art - 2023

[arminsumi]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐈

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ (deluxe edition)

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

ㅤㅤ𝐂𝐃 𝟏: 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐬

ㅤ► Iwtky ft. satoru & suguru

ㅤ► Satoru's Youth (camcorder memories)

ㅤ► Adult Store (18+) ft. suguru geto

ㅤㅤ𝐂𝐃 𝟐: 𝐬𝐟𝐰

ㅤ► My name in your skin ft. tattoo artist suguru geto

ㅤ► Choso Kamo's bloody sneakers & freaky kisses

ㅤ► Overworked!Gojo / Clingy!Gojo

ㅤㅤ𝐂𝐃 𝟑: 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰/𝟏𝟖+

ㅤ► Psycho Boys Do It Better ft. aki

ㅤ► Suguru Geto with a size kink

ㅤ► Cutie virgin Gojo Satoru

ㅤ► Milkman!Gojo

ㅤㅤ𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬!

ㅤ► adult store, ch. 1 (18+)

ㅤ► gojo with a breeding kink (18+)

ㅤ► onetwothreefour — MAX! (18+)

ㅤ► they bet your mouth on a basketball game (18+) ft. satoru & suguru

ㅤㅤ 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐳

ㅤ► old libraries

[spxcemuses]

@erthlyheavn asked: ÖÖÖ

[ a character I’d consider rping. ] | Always Accepting

A bunch of bad guys were ganging around an innocent civilian, when suddenly a bunch of gunshots rang in the air, a couple of the bullets killing or injuring them. They didn't even get a chance to see whom their attacker was, when suddenly-

" Backflip! "

A voice immediately shouts, and a man in a red suit does a backflip from an idle car, landing on his feet but almost falling over. In his hand were two smoking pistols. It was Deadpool, the famous merc with a mouth.

" So I'm coming back, huh? Hopefully for realsies this time. Man it's been so long since I've been written! Let's see how long it's been, uhm... "

The masked figure quickly shifts one pistol to his other hand, counting with his fingers under his breath. A gang member gets up to attack, and Deadpool immediately shoots them in the head before exclaiming again.

" Onetwothreefour... Four years! Four! Man, that has got to be a long time. Space better give me a warm welcome if I am to stay on this blog permanently; this red suit of mine really contrasts with the blue of the theme she's got. Wait, what was I doing again? Oh yeah! Saving someone. "

He turns to the trembling citizen, giving them a grin even though he was masked. They probably thought he was a loonie for talking to what was essentially no one. Deadpool leans a little closer, giving them a friendly pat on the shoulder.

" Sorry for all the rambling, I was... making up for lost time. My brain's like a squirrel on caffeine! Anyway! Go along now! Make sure you call your parents or a close friend, tell them you love them or something before you get hurt again! "

----------------

A mysterious figure leant against the brick wall of the nearest building, mainly wearing black attire. What stood out though was that he wore a fedora and a trench coat, the ends of it billowing in a slight breeze that clearly wasn't there. Spider-Noir had one hand in his pocket, another holding the end of a burning match. He had been staring at the match when suddenly his spidey-senses quickly tingled, white hues looking over at the person who was staring at him. Giving a tip of his fedora, the monochromatic Spider-Man introduces himself.

" Evening. You're probably wondering who I am, aren't you, sport? I'm Spider-Noir. I am a private eye and put a kibosh to Nazis... a lot. Don't worry, I'm not here to harm you. I do not plan to... I just go where the wind of fate takes me. I'm like a shadow. Dark, mysterious... a little edgy. You'll get used to me. "

----------------

" Ugh, I always have to... pick up the pieces around here! ¡No puedo seguir así! Argghh!! "

Miguel shouts out in a rage, claws unsheathed as he digs into a hunk of tech and metal, tossing it a far distance away before panting heavily. After finding out that Miles was the anomaly that would put everything out of line, he was determined to find the kid and snuff them out once and for all. He wastes no time after the slight outburst, briefly conversing with LYLA and activating the gizmo on his wrist, transporting to where Miles was currently located. He spent some time running on all fours to search quicker, leaping down from a two-story height and landing in front of someone and nearly startling them. Broad shoulders tense, glaring at them when they questioned who he was.

" None of your business on who I am. It's classified. What I want to know is... Where. Is. Miles Morales. You haven't seen a Spider-Man in a black suit around here at all? "

[mossnrocksnmarshwater]

my posting oneshots streak is gonna be over tonight and on one hand im kinda sad, i was having fun, but also the reason im not posting today is that it wasn't going to be fun to write any of the oneshots I had started. and I wasn't about to start a WHOLE NOTHER ONESHOT on top of the uh. onetwothreefour however many I have open already. i did come up with another fic idea though. so the train is not over its just a bit late leaving the station today i think