#pls. save me

[riacte]

Links:

Martyn AITA stream with Ren still considered as boyfriend and not an ex [1] [2]

Ren hand thumbnail on Martyn’s video of him ranking the hermits’ set up

Martyn watches clips of Ren singing on stream

Martyn’s chat convincing him to name a bot “Ren Bot”

Martyn: "Hey what's up guys welcome to my 3rd life alternate universe where Ren was the Hand and it was the Kingdom of the Saplings." Hey, had to happen sometime.

Ren: Martyn! I’m here to help you, man. Look, I’ve got an axe!

Ren almost drowning himself in a river to save Martyn’s items in RL

Martyn asking “who’s getting married” in response to Ren whining about the lack of lore in RL

Martyn liking Renchanting fanart on Twitter with no @ or relevant tags

It’s 2024 and they finally talked 🥺

[yamabiko-77]

pathetic lovestruck vampire guy and his not-okay demon boy

[kewpie-notice-me]

AW YEAHHH THE APRILS ABOUT TO FUCK SOME SHIT UUUP

[hinamie]

...........slips gege ¥2000

[ashoss]

batman and robin in the spotlight

plus the wip i gave up on bc i didnt like batman's face lolol

it was a bit of a dan mora study that i wasnt taking too seriously- just rlly in the face and hair but i still hated it lol. maybe ill do an actual dan mora study bc his style is sooo yummy

[klancer-warrior]

sad klance hours i fear

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐭

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: Joel jerks off to the knowledge of you taking a bath after waking up with a hard on.

Warnings: Male masturbation, pervy ass Joel, you are unaware that the horny old man is jerking off! Joel calls himself daddy, [ Under water ] Unprotected PIV, No foreplay no nothin just straight up fuckin’. Dirty talk. No beta, ya girl dont got TIME!

A/N: This has been rotting in my drafts so I just thought I’d wrap it up and post it while im sleeping over my grandmas 😒 ALSO IK I JUST POSTED DAMN.

Wc: 2,070

Joel didn’t remember falling asleep like this.

How the thin sheet he had wrapped himself in now formed a tent over his thighs.

Oh, fuck. 

Morning– or, I guess for him it was afternoon wood. Off from work the idea of a nap sounded mouthwatering for once, the way his back sunk into the mattress no matter how firm it actually was. Feathery softness of the pillow behind his head. He hadn’t even bothered to much as wash his hands let alone take a shower.

Now aware, sentient his mind came to that familiar feeling of the need to plunge his cock into his fist. Shaft sticking straight up with his tip pushed against the cotton of his briefs. Leaking.

“Goddamn– fuck.” 

It wasn’t ideal. 

Neither was the dewiness of the sweat that had seeped uncomfortably into his skin. A musk that steamed off of him. 

He threw his legs over the side of his mattress, running worked fingers through his greying curls. Fuckin’ inconvenient. His palm slapped down onto the back of his phone that slept face-down on his end table. Picking it up to check the time. 

2:44 PM 

Before he left for work it was almost as if he could still hear your sweet voice telling him you were going out with your friend ‘til three. Sixteen minutes until you were back home. Sixteen minutes to jump into the shower and fuck himself. Unfortunately in the literal sense.

He popped up from his bed with a long rumbling moan that followed. 

Jesus Christ. He was fucking hard.

It was a heavy footed march towards the bathroom– out his door. Down the hallway. To the door on the right. 

The door was closed while he remembered leaving it open. Not that it mattered. Honestly he was so fuckin’ screwed right now he didn’t know his left from his right let alone when or if he actually closed the bathroom door.

He was just about to turn the knob when he heard something.

The grinding squeak of the faucet.

Water pouring out into the tub. Slapping against the pearly porcelain.

Just his fucking luck.

It would figure you’d be home now outta all times. It was out of the ordinary for you to actually come and leave the time you said you would. Joel got lucky sometimes. The days you actually did so.

Today, unlucky. More than usual. 

All the while you were meandering around the bathroom. Looking through every cupboard and drawer for things a fifty-seven year old man would never EVER store in his bathroom let alone go out of his way to buy.

But then one pull of the cabinet underneath the sink you saw it, the holy grail of this old man’s bathroom. One singular, milky white bath bomb. 

Oh my god. In a home like his it was as if you were a miner who had struck diamond. A rarity, absolute gem. 

You picked up the round chalky bulb within your palm, bringing it over to your bath. Using your pointer as a thermometer to check the water. Hot, steaming. Perfect. Stripping yourself from your clothes as you stepped into the tub one leg at a time. Soon enough it was your full body swimming within. Dropping the bath bomb in, biting your lip down to contain the ecstatic smile on your face as it fizzed.

Blissed.

Joel heard all of this. 

Shocks wracking to his cock just at the simple sound of the clanks of your belt as it dropped to the tiles of the bathroom. 

The water of the tub swishing back and forth as you sunk in. He could only imagine the sight. How much harder he’d be if he got to saw you slippery and wet, your naked body glistening with the hot water of the tub, face flushed from the warmth.

Fuck he’d give anything.

For weeks it was you in his dreams. The girl makin’ his cock stick up every time he woke up. At first the thoughts would make his stomach sink, chest tightening at the thought. He was sick. 

He was still sick. Although, he didn’t have the energy to be ashamed. 

He moved closer to the door as his breath hit the chipping, white painted wood. His hand moved down to squeeze his dick pulsing in his boxers. Gripping it, fuckin’ hating it for the ruthlessness. The cruelty. 

“Oh, baby.”

Whispering to no one as he pulled himself out of his boxers. His tip drippin’ with precum. Eyes screwed shut. Joel Miller was a sore fucker to in his head to tell you how he felt. Although he could easily bounce his fist up and down his stiff cock as you washed your pretty body that he spent his free time watchin’. Craving. Only separated by the door between. 

“Fuck. Makin’ daddy’s cock so damn hard you don’t even know.”

Moving lips pressed against the cold door. 

“You don’t even know, babygirl.”

No, you didn’t. And if this man wasn’t such a pussy those unspoken fuck-feelings that you damn well both felt for each other wouldn’t have to be so unspoken. 

He could tell you. He could tell you how you were gettin’ him harder than any disgustingly vulgar porno could get him. Than any pill he could swallow dry to get his dick workin’ again. The thought of you his own personal Viagra without needing to consume anything. 

The mind was a powerful thing. 

His fist pumped. Sloppy with himself as he had no need to go at a pace that made sense, that had that rhythm. He didn’t need to give himself that. Twitching as his bulbous head sputtered out slick that trickled down the length. 

His throat was tight as his hips jerked. Fuck fuck fuck. Pushing the tip of his cock into the door, already so close as if he had any need to control himself as he was trying to get this done. Get the job finished so he could go back to normal.  

Gaudily clutching, hugging his fat dick with his fist. His hips stuttering til–

“Oh, f–fuck–!” Too goddamn loud.

The hand that he had braced against the thick trim surrounding the door now palm his mouth. Oh this was really stupid. He was making it even stupider, riskier. 

If he continued to hold this sounds deep within his throat it’d explode. Or– at least it’d feel like that. His balls were drawing up, tightening uncomfortably taut. His pace slopping, slowing as ever quick yank and pull turning into a long, drawn stroke down the length. 

Another bubbled up. This time as he reached that peak. Cumming into his palm. Opaque seed spitting out onto the door.  

“Sweetie. Fuckin–!”

“...Joel!?”

The curses were the most obvious, seemingly too ashamed to really drive home those so-very-cute pet names as he moaned. 

You knew the sound of a moan, though. Maybe you were young but you weren’t a fucking dumbass. The sound of a male orgasm was much different than that ‘I stubbed my toe’ type groan. Even yell.

He felt his cheeks heat up instantaneously. He had no more excuses left in him unless he were to sputter meaningless claims. Begging you to believe he had just stubbed his toe on the bathroom door.

Aftershocks still running through his body in waves. Panting like a dog. Sweating like a pig.

You were basking in the warm water. Your heartbeat took quickly to picking up. Joel Miller. The man old enough to be your fucking father standing outside your bathroom jerking off to the little splashes of the water? Imagining your naked body on the other side.

And you. You were just a girl after all. Couldn’t help the curiosity that pumped in your veins.

“Joel, come in!”

He’d hesitate. How could he not? His breathing still ragged. His cock had hardly even gone soft. But goddamn if he didn’t see you he knew he’d absolutely be killing himself. Turning the knob like heaven was on the other side of it. —For him, it was even better than that. More exciting than eternal life.

The door was kicked open as he singled you out. Staring. Your body was slick as the lighting from the window sheened over your body. He was in there quick. Ripping his briefs off his thighs. By five seconds his cock began to stiffen again. Your tits glazed with the bubbly, soapy water that filler the bath. The normally clear bath water milky, fizz bubbled to the top from the bath bomb that had evaporated as Joel worked himself to his orgasm.

You’ve got his body overworked and you haven’t even touched him yet.

So worked up he forgot he even had his flannel on as he got into the tub. Water that just barely reached the top spilling out onto the tiles, he’d have to wipe that after. The thick fabric of his shirt clinging onto his skin like a fuckin’ lifeline. Hugging the soft muscle.

Stiffed. Once again stiffed. Slapping up against his belly as his hands gripped at your thighs.

“Joel—“ You’d mewl, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He had you.

“This pretty pussy. I ain’t never fuckin’ seen her before.

Why you been so cruel, huh?” He was rambling.

He pushed his head into you. Seeing you stretch out, getting used to the feeling of his tip first. Then he’d slowly let himself sink into your cunt. Gripping your thighs, his hips spasmed.

“Joel!” Another moan. Desperately clinging to him, wet hands placed on his fabric-covered shoulders.

“Got me jerkin’ off out there like a fuckin’ teenager.”

He whimpered, his pace already taking no time to quicken, expeditious and brisk. The man wanted to fuck you senseless. Taking your lips to his, pushing his tongue down your throat. Every moan between the two of you vibrating between your lips. Joel’s cock plunging in and out.

In. And. Out.

Rutting into you with every fiber of his fuckin’ being. He never felt a girl like this— so good, so beautiful and so fucking tight.

Joel Miller has never been so fuckin’ pussy-whipped.

The water of the tub was splashing, spluttering, it was messy. It was quick. Yet he knew afterwards, once the aftershocks yet again dissipated maybe he’d fuck you again. And again. And again—

“God— Fuck yes, Joel! Right there. Right there.”

Nibbling his neck every time his head curved up to kissed that soft spot that made you wanna squeal.

“Daddy’s gonna fuckin’ fill this sweet little cunt.”

He’d moan

“Fuck you S’good.”

His brain was mush. The filthy fucking words uttering from his lips weren’t ones he necessarily put thought into— or, better yet. He put none at all. His thrusts were getting tighter, rigid. His stiffy painful with every clenching, the contraction of the muscles in your hole.

You felt your climax right there. Right. There. Every time his fat dick carved a line right on your cervix you’d cry again, your fingers clawing, ripping down the fabric of his now soaked flannel. He was so practiced. Intently watching the contortions of your face. Your pelvis blew with the intensity of your orgasm, panting into the side of his neck, feeling that familiar euphoria you had always found by the touches of your own hand.

His peak followed close. Spilling his semen into your cunt shamelessly filling you to the brim. He didn’t fuckin’ care about the risks. Not now, definitely not now. All he cared about was how good you felt around him, deep within the hot water of this tub. His tub.

“Oh fuckin’ shit. Baby.”

Momentarily you felt as your eyes would roll back into your skull at the feeling of his cum being beat into your cunt, your orgasm forcing ecstasy making you smile against his neck. His hand braced on your belly, feeling the heat and tightness in your gut settle now that it was all done.

All done?

Miller’s been waitin’ months for this, ain’t no way in hell you were all done. He was gonna make you feel it again. Feel all of it again. Once, twice, three times over— all until you’re squirmy, all until you’re beggin’ him to let you take that breather.

“I fuckin’ love this pussy. Can’t get enough.” He’d drawl.

His face buried into the crook of your neck. Tongue flicking in light, lazy kitty-licks against the skin.

This’ll be lasting til’ the water’s cold.

[lukeishope]

x-men as textposts :)

[angryfrog-g]

i need to calm down

yes this is pharma bateman

[girlwearied]

fuck zodiac signs do you also kinda feel excruciatingly unlovable in every way possible sometimes

[fahakkila]

‎‏🚨Urgent🚨

🚨Help my family and I to evacuate Gaza and stay safe.

‎‏Hello, I'm Fahmi from northern Gaza.

‎‏My family, consisting of seven members, and I are currently displaced Rafah area in the south .

‎‏We are now in a small tent, very scattered, with no safe place, and my elderly parents need medical treatment, which we cannot afford.

‎‏We only have unhealthy food. Everything we had was destroyed by the occupation, My home, my family’s home, my car and my job.

We no longer have hope for living a safe and happy life. After losing hope, intense frustration, and great sadness as a family who hopes that we live in healthier environment and a life we deserve , we decided to leave our country and travel to start our life from scratch outside Gaza so that we can live a happy and safe life so we can ensure secure future with a happy life in which there are no wars, hunger, fear, displacement, and heartbreak.

However, I will not be able to do that without your assistance and support. Don’t make escaping from Gaza impossible

Every donation will help my family and I to survive.

🚨My home street after bombing!!

This is my car after bombing to the second time

[elainiisms]

nothing harder than being a girl who sees sapphic ships where there aren't any

[belazarts]

old woman yuri™

[fastboatsmojito]

tell me more about the sweet things Frank does pleeaassseee

ugh he’s suuuuch a sweetheart for someone who has every right to be a complete asshole to everyone <///3

Notes; hi guys I have so much other shit to write it’s actually laughable but this is what ur getting for now mostly because im unable to think about anyone else atm #sorry, enjoy!

he’s pretty old fashioned when it comes to most things; leaning his head back to look at you like you’re insane if you try to pay for anything, long legs striding right past you to open doors, a guiding hand on your waist when you’re walking together so you can keep up with him, etc. he’ll be damned if you ever do anything you don’t have to, always insistent on lending a large helping hand whenever you need one.

“Why don’t you just let me help you, huh? Always gotta have an attitude about it.” he made it sound so simple, like the act of him helping you clasp your necklace shouldn’t have you swooning like this, reeling in the rough callouses of his fingers against the back of your neck. of course he wasn’t really upset, shaking his head at your insistent remarks about being able to do it yourself. you could always tell when he was pushing you to accept the love he so thoughtfully handed to you, understanding when you needed a harsher tone or a soothing hand.

that’s just who he is; priding himself in keeping you safe and in the meantime securing every understanding he had of you in his mind, every fear, every goal, the things you’d dream about often enough to bring it up the next morning, he knew you and he knew what you needed, half the time before you knew it yourself. because that’s just who he is. that’s his job — at least that’s what he keeps telling you.

“I don’t have an attitude, but you don’t have to take care of me all the time, Frank. I can-“

“You can take care of yourself. Yeah yeah I know sweetheart, you’re real tough. I know it.” it was hard to look it right now, letting his arms squeeze around you, standing firm in your words as you melted into the strong shape of him behind you.

there were a million examples, and no matter how hard you tried to convince him, he’d do it again and again. coming back home after a rough day and cleaning himself up before picking you up from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch to take you to bed. ignoring the ache in his bones, hushing you with a kiss on your crown, and tucking you under the soft blankets ‘right where you belong’ because that’s just who Frank Castle is.

[submisssivegf]

don’t wanna work today. kinda want to suck cock endlessly instead 😖

[heyimkana]

S-Rank Hunter ❌

S-Rank Husband ✅

"S-so, umm..." The cashier begins awkwardly as she spreads a selection of pads on the counter. "We have reusable pads, regular pads, ultra-thin pads, maxi pads, overnight pads. These ones are scented, these are not. Oh, these ones are exceptionally soft, but they can be a bit expensive. And these ones..." Jinwoo stares blankly at the items, listening but not digesting her explanation. The introduction seems endless, and he’s losing it. “Why, uhh, why are there so many different types? Don't they have the same purpose?” “Why, yes, Sir, but every woman has their own preferences. Some may want to wear the scented ones to mask the natural odor of menstrual blood, while some people prefer to…” She begins rambling again, and his brain is turning into mush. "All right... Which one is the best?" “Like I said, Sir, it depends on what you need.” “Which one do you use?” “Eh?!” She blushes and he’s so out of it right now to notice that he just asked something terribly personal. “T-This one, Sir.” She pushes forward a pack of pads with quivering fingers, unable to meet his eyes. When she woke up this morning, she did not think the handsome S-Rank Hunter, Sung Jinwoo, would bless her eyes with his presence and ask her about her pads. “They’re made from cotton, so they’re more, umm, breathable.” “Okay,” he nods. “I’ll take that one.”

“Right. What size do you—I mean, uhh, your wife usually use?" He stops and stares. Of course, they come in different sizes, too.  Seeing his soul leaving his body, she suggests, “You might want to give her a call." "Give me a sec." With his head throbbing, Jinwoo closes his eyes, speaking telepathically. Beru. The shadow soldier's response is immediate. Yes, my liege. What pad size does my wife usually use? She usually uses the overnight pads that claim to be for 'heavy flow', my liege. Jinwoo opens his eyes, relaying the information to the cashier. "Uhh... Can you give me the overnight pads, please?" "With or without wings?" He stops and stares. Again. "O-one moment." Beru. With or without wings? She has mentioned that she prefers the ones with wings, my liege. "With wings, please." "Scented or unscented?" Fucking hell. He tosses his head back, refraining himself from swearing—or contemplating suicide. Beru. The scented ones can cause skin irritation, my liege, so I suggest— “Unscented, thanks.” Please, no more questions.

READ THE FULL FIC HERE.