pretty-boy-shit

Ivonne’s 12 Days of Deadpool, #11

Deadpool x Reader

While people watching from your apartment, you spot a very interesting man.

#1, #2 , #3 , #4 , #5 , #6 , #7 , #8 , #9 . #10 , #11, #12, #13

The apartment was warm as you stared out of the window, your lips pulled into a smile at the elderly couple holding hands as they crossed the street. Your eyes wandered beyond the couple to a man standing where they just left, carrying a small tree on his shoulder and a few bags in his hand. He wore a black hoodie over his head and gray jeans; he crossed the street without looking both ways.. A taxi cab screeched to a halt in front of him and the man paid no attention, making you chuckle at this recklessness. Something inside you pulled at your feelings as the man disappeared from your sight.

Sighing you slumped into your chair and continued to people watch, trying to put the man out of your thoughts. But still. Who was he? Where was he taking the tree to? And why was he so careless with his life?

Your thoughts are ripped from your mind when a pounding at the door startled you, followed by a man’s voice calling out to you.

Keep reading

  • Mercury: Hey you, white twin!
  • Melanie: Hm?
  • Mercury: I challenge you to a kicking contest!
  • Melanie: No.
  • Mercury: Why? You afraid I'll wipe the floor with you?
  • Melanie: *is no longer looking at him*
  • Mercury: Hey! I'm talking to you!
  • Melanie: I know.
  • Mercury: Then why aren't you listening to me?
  • Melanie: Because I can't tell you from any other chicken-shit pretty boy who thinks he's worth a second thought.
  • Mercury: ...
  • Emerald: *hysterical laughing in the distance*

anonymous asked:

What I don't understand is why people on this site hate Killing Stalking so much. They say it's because it romantizes abuse but I've read the comic and??? It doesn't. Like Sangwoo's abuse of Bum and pretty much everyone is treated as fucked up and awful. I mean even the comic's art attests to that. Everything is drawn really dark and scary looking, not with pastels and pretty boy shit like 99% of BL manga.

When they mean it “romanticizes” abuse, they mean it’s not an acceptable form of abuse. Tumblr people have made their own guidelines for what is and isn’t acceptable in fiction, and it’s hilarious. Their main problem boils down to identity bs: we don’t want women writing about gay/bi men because they aren’t that gender, therefore that’s fetishization. That’s it. That’s the discourse, and it’s getting boring.

I don’t even know why they want to label this as some typical BL so badly. It’s like they’ve never read any other BL or Yaoi before. They just see two anime-looking men who aren’t in some fluffy setting and automatically label it as evil. Didn’t you know everything has to be representation on this website? We can’t just read or watch shit for entertainment value. Everything has to be deep, no fun allowed.  

anonymous asked:

Hanging out in a different group at school but ya'll sit in the table next to eric and dyls group and they over hear you saying that you horny af 😂😂 and there reaction lol cause your so innocent and pure to them

“Well that hour fucking sucked asshole!”

Eric grumbled as Dylan, Brooks, Nate and himself grabbed their usual table in the cafeteria.

“You think you had it bad? Try being stuck with that fucker in geography!”

Nate muttered pointing his finger at Brooks whom in return casually flipped him off. Opening their lunches they lazed back in their chairs, muttering about the newest antics of the pervious missions night.

“Y'all are fucking stupid, your gonna get caught setting that shit off!”

Brooks stated as he himself didn’t attend these night rendezvous. Eric rolled his eyes and scoffed. Brooks rolled his eyes, took a bite of his apple and asked if any of the others had seen you since you were late.

“Na she’s having lunch with her chick friends today dude, you’ll have to drool somewhere else”

“Fuck up eric it’s not like that!”

“Bullshit! Your so into y/n it’s sad”

“Fuck you eric!”

“And a bigger fuck you to you too Brooks! Your totally obsessed with y/n! It’s messed up.”

Brooks stood abruptly, his face red with anger as he glared at Eric’s self satisfied smile that stretched across his face. He quickly grabbed his things before storming off.

“Nice going Eric..”

“Dude it’s sad! And it freaks y/n out!”

“You could of try a bit more tact though next time man”

“Nate! He needed to be told, y/n is sick of it!”

Nate muttered something under his breath before departing after Brooks. Eric shook his head in disbelief as he looked out over the room. It was here he spied you are your female friends arriving to lunch and eventually choosing the table next to the doors.
Eric turned to Dylan who seemed to be lost in thought.

“Come on V, let’s ditch this shit hole”

said Eric as he scrunched up his lunch rubbish. Dylan nodded still lost in thought as they ambled towards you to leave. When Eric stopped suddenly making Dylan walk into him.

“Dude what are you doing?”

“Shut up! Listen!”

“To what Reb?”

“Shhhhh!”

Eric pointed his finger to a table near you and ushered Dylan to sit quickly. Emphasising silence as he held his finger to his lips and nodded towards you.

“Im telling you Jenny! I just need to get my ass laid”

“What about that thing with Darren y/n?”

“You mean Mr. 3 minute wham bang thank you Madame?”

“Oh my god seriously?!”

“Deadly serious”


Dylan’s eyes widened and he quickly looked at Eric who had a huge grin on his face. He signalled Dylan to stay put and keep quiet as you continued.

“But seriously man, I want a guy who’s going to go down town for a while ya know? Not some pathetic kitten licks which don’t do shit.”

“Don’t we all y/n”

“I mean fuck he didn’t even fuck good in that 3 mins! It was all lovey dovey romantic shit, when I was like oh my god would you just fuck me hard and fast! Choke me a bit and pull my hair but nope it was all that stupid soft kisses and ‘your soooo beautiful’ vomit.”

“I’ve told you! You need to go for the right guys y/n. Pretty boys can’t do shit”

Eric laughed silently, clapping his hands together and looked at Dylan, who’s face was bright red with a smile upon his face.
Neither of them had eve pictured you as a rough sex girl, let alone that you were even having sex! You’d always been the most reserve of the three of you when it came to anything to do with sex. You often leave the room if it was brought up. Dylan nodded to Eric as you laughed loudly, continuing your conversation.

“He did what Jen?!”

“Yea I know! Totally killed the mood”

“Well yea who wants to fuck to pop or hip hop? You need that heavy baseline of NIN or korn or rammstien or even slipknot. Nsync ain’t gonna do shit! ‘Ooo I loooove youuu soo much giiiirl!’ Yea fuck that! Tell me to buck dich and I’ll be your dirty girl!”

“Y/n!!”

“Oh you know it’s true Jen!”

Your table erupted in laughter as both boys looked at each other wide eyes. Dylan nodded that he and Eric should probably leave now and oddly enough Eric agreed. Both boys readjusted their stiffening manhoods before quickly exiting the cafeteria. Once outside the burst into laughter.

“Dude who would of known!!”

“I know, y/n is nothing as we perceived V”

“What do we do now though, I don’t think I can be the same around her now Reb!”

“Fucked if know man, but imagine this. what if we did tell her to buck dich and she did!”

“Dude!!”

“Oh don’t tell me your not thinking it too VoDKa”

💙✨• trans lady 2D headcanons •✨💙

* totally the one that has ur back and tells u when there’s lipstick on ur teeth or pull ur skirt down or tuck in ur bra strap or pull fuzzies out of your hair or fix a zipper bc there’s so many times ppl have just let her walk around a mess

* her voice is actually really low like her singing voice. she’s been raising her pitch ever since the apex tapes, it’ll slip sometimes tho. she’s basically been talking in falsetto for 15 years. she’s still working on she wants to sound like, but she likes the way she sings just fine.

* she was feminine when she was younger as well. no one bothered her too much because they didn’t really think about it and thought it was a phase. she was into enough artists that ppl thought she was just tryna emulate them. there have been a couple of incidents but the most she would get was teasing from her friends. someone called her “honey-pot” as a joke but she liked it so it stuck throughout school.

* she has a middle name, “renee” that murdoc bestowed upon her bc he wanted to call/scold her using a full name and just filled in the blank on the spot. noodle’s middle name is “marie” for the same reason bonus fact


* she’s really into jewelry and makeup but not clothes as much she has a few pieces she likes but only really Dresses Up dresses up when she feels like it. she’s more into being decorated than dressed up, she can fidget with jewelry and trace tattoos and draw on her makeup.

* she’s gaining weight from hrt and happy cries on the scale since she’s been so thin all her life and she finally has a healthy appetite

* she feels like she finally has the say of her appearance bc now no one knows what to do with her. if she wanna paint her nails she does, if she wanted to dye her hair she could, she wants a fuller shape and she’s working on it. so many parts of her have been taken and changed and now she wants control. she feels like she could express herself before to an extent bc of the “pretty boy” shit but there were still limits and a certain look and expectations, a weight been lifted off her shoulders and she’s excited even tho she knows there will be new sets of expectations

* the first person she told was paula and she was scared to tell noodle the most

* sleeping powder is her “coming out” song in a way (now that the lyrics have been fucking decoded) she’s here y'all. she doesn’t wanna do a grand “traditional” coming out video or tweet or announcements or whatever she just wants to let her transition happen. so some of the lyrics are little hints to how she’s adjusting kinda probably (her old self is gone and finally resting, how her jeans have to fit now idk) and she’s showing off her figure dancing around

* smthing abt that jamie guy coming into my window and telling me that all of this is true

8

Aren’t they cute?

I expected an introductory episode for Tsukai and the negotiation to showcase her and Shindou’s different strengths, but it’s all just information! I love it!! Seikaisuru Kado really has a very typical “hard sci-fi” feel to its narrative. It’s just my type!!

First off, we got the information on Kado. It seems to be some sort of supercomputer able to “unfold” higher-dimensional structures into lower dimensions. I am surprised it only resulted in a cube that large in the 3D world, zaShunina & Kado must have been minuscule in Novo. Unfolded structures have the potential to be…immense.

Secondly, now that we know what Novo is, it can be concluded that zaShunina is an individual and does not seem to belong to a species.

Thirdly, zaShunina genuinely means well. He immediately seeks to reduce information asymmetry, which makes the fact that he chose Japan even more sensible. Frankly, I can’t imagine such an efficient arrangement anywhere else. I trust that Seikaisuru Kado will provide us with solutions to smooth out global frictions resulting from the possibility of infinite energy and media attention (Isaac Asimov’s Seldon crises in the Foundation series comes to mind).

Finally, I echo Tsukai’s concern. Shindou is too friendly - protective, even - towards zaShunina. The people on the plane were shown to be really calm in the previous episode too. Did something happen inside Kado that we audience are also obscured of? What did Shindou get from zaShunina from their first contact? Or does Shindou happen to agree with whatever goal zaShunina is pursuing, regardless of whether or not it can be deemed beneficial (and to whom)? 

Voltron Headcanons #3 ft. Klance

So Keith is KPop trash

Specifically BTS trash

Originally posted by jojoposer

  • his go-to workout song is “Fire” with “Dope” being a close second
  • Keith tries to make sure the team NEVER KNOWS
  • but he accidentally connects his futuristic mp3 to the workout room speakers
  • OOOPS
  • Lance is in there to hear and DOES NOT GET IT
  • Lance - “WHAT IS THIS JAPANESE MUSIC”
  • Keith - “IT’S KOREAN YOU JACKASS” 
  • (Keith forgets that he probably should be denying knowledge of this soooo he’s busted)
  • after that, Lance gives Keith so much grief for his “pretty-boy Korean shit”
  • and doesn’t get it until Keith introduces him to THE QUEEN

Originally posted by fyeahkpopmvgifs-blog

  • Lance - “OH”
  • HyunA the magnificent changes this useless bi boy’s mind about K-Pop
  • and then Lance stans only for the girl groups
  • he’s that creepy guy at girl group live performances who knows all the lyrics and makes sure everyone knows by screaming them as loud as possible
Nebula: The Courtney chronical

A/N: The Year: 2004. The Place: Brisbane, Australia. Baby Courtney is 11 years old. And she has her first crush. And it is not going well…

(Special thanks to @samrull for providing the inspiration for Courtney’s obsessive desires.)

Written by @veronicasanders ❤️

***

Loving someone from afar was hard work. Ever since Isabelle’s family had moved in the summer before, Courtney had been praying, wishing, hoping against all hope that the older girl would notice her. Would talk to her. Would look in her direction for more than a passing, dismissive glance.

Courtney loved everything about her. From the red streaks in her platinum blonde hair, to her wide hazel eyes, to her sarcastic laugh, to the dimples that appeared in her cheeks when she flashed her crooked smile. She loved how Isabelle didn’t give a fuck what the “popular” kids did, but instead had her own style, her own interests, her own laissez-faire attitude. She kept a leather-bound journal and used to scribble in it angrily, glaring at people when they pissed her off. She told one particularly dickheaded boy in their neighborhood that she was a witch, after she saw him push his sister down a hill. Helping the girl up, she stared at him with daggers in her eyes, swearing to curse him for all eternity unless he apologized.

She was everything.

Of course, a girl like that - the epitome of cool, the queen of counter-culture - that girl had no use for Courtney. Who never spoke up, who never made trouble. Never stood out in any way. Courtney was everything Isabelle was not. Ordinary. Vanilla. Boring.

And then, one day, at the start of Summer holiday, a miracle happened. A bone-fide Christmas miracle. Courtney’s parents decided to take her brother to Sydney to look at colleges (as if Ben was going to college. Courtney’s parents meant well, but they were a little slow on the uptake sometimes), and voila! Suddenly she was staying with Isabelle’s family. Sleeping on a twin bed in her room. For five. Whole. Days.

***

“I hate ALL my clothes!” Isabelle moaned, tossing yet another outfit dramatically to the ground. “I have literally NOTHING to WEAR! This fuckin’ SUCKS!”

Courtney bit her lip. She wanted to offer a solution, but wasn’t 100% sure how a drag closet would be received. “Um…we could go to my house. Ben has some pretty cool shit.”

“Boy clothes?” Isabelle looked skeptical.

“Well…not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s sort of hard to explain.”

Isabelle narrowed her eyes and sighed, exasperated. “Alright, Miss Mysterious. Let’s go.”

Butterflies filled Courtney’s stomach as they walked outside, through the garden, across the narrow creek, up the hill to Courtney’s house. Courtney led her up the steps to Ben’s room, where giant, dramatic black letters warned them to “KEEP OUT OR SUFFER THE DIRE CONSEQUENCES!!!!!!!!” She pushed open the door, feeling more nervous about Isabelle in her house then invading her brother’s sacred personal space.

She slid open the mirrored closet door, revealing the two-third’s of the closet where Ben kept all of his drag stuff. Sequins and feathers and lace…fringe and sparkles and pleather and fishnets. Rows of heels on the floor below the clothes, and stacks of wigs and boxes of jewelry on the shelves above, along with his extensive makeup collection.

Isabelle’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “This is your BROTHER’S stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“So…your brother is gay?”

“Um…yeah.”

Isabelle considered this for a moment, and then nodded approvingly. “That’s cool as.”

Courtney felt a sense of relief wash over her, pride replacing her edgy nerves. “He does my makeup and stuff all the time.”

“Really?! You’re sooo lucky. All my brother cares about is surfing and his dumb motorbike.”

Courtney gestured grandly to the closet. “Well…you can try some of his stuff on if you want.”

Soon enough, they’d both concocted entirely new ensembles. Isabelle in a shiny copper halter top and houndstooth shorts, and Courtney in the more ridiculous outfit that Isabelle had insisted on: a padded, sequined bra and pleather mini-skirt with a fringed bolero jacket. After Isabelle used Ben’s prized palette to add some color to Courtney’s face, all that was left was loading themselves up with every piece of jewelry Ben owned, before collapsing, giggling, onto his bed.

Isabelle gazed around the room at all the pictures on Ben’s walls. She smiled appreciatively at his Moulin Rouge poster, and then her eyes lit up at the shrine to Robbie Williams over his desk.

“Your brother has good taste. I’d give anything to pash Ewan. Or Robbie.”

Courtney nodded in agreement, though she wasn’t sure she saw the allure, exactly. Although she had to admit that Ewan was at least relatively cute, compared to most boys she knew.

“You ever pashed anyone, Courtney?” Isabelle had a slightly teasing lilt to her voice. As if she already knew the answer.

Courtney bristled a little. She was determined not be seen as a baby. “Yes,” she lied.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “Really? Who?”

Thinking quickly, Courtney answered, “Greg.” The tall, soft-spoken boy on her cheer team was always nice to Courtney, and he was clean and didn’t smell nearly as bad as most of the other boys in her class. If she was gonna have to pash any boy, it may as well have been him.

Isabelle burst out laughing. “You sure love the homos, Court. Greg is gay as mardi gras.”

Courtney felt her cheeks heat up. She cleared her throat, racking her brain to try and divert the attention away from herself. “Have…have you pashed anyone?”

“Nope!” Isabelle said. “I want my first time to be magical. Like in the movies. My friends think I’m weird but I don’t care.”

“I…I don’t think that’s weird.” Courtney suddenly wished she hadn’t lied. “I think it’s cool.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not just leaving it up to fate, though. I practice a lot.”

“How do you practice?”

“Like…you know…on your hand, or a pillow, or…you know, with your friends.”

“Your friends?”

Isabelle flashed a crooked smile, revealing those dimples that Courtney wanted to reach out and touch. It took all her strength to keep her hands to herself. “You know…like…girls don’t count. That’s just like, so you can get good at it for when it’s time to kiss a boy. Like, for real.”

Courtney’s palms began to get sweaty, and her mouth was dry as chalk. She swallowed.

“Of course, you don’t need practice, since you’re already an expert. You and Greeeeg.” Isabelle winked and Courtney thought she might die of embarrassment.

“I…may have lied about that,” she whispered.

“No shit,” Isabelle replied, hazel eyes glittering with delight.

Courtney focused away from her eyes, on her shoulders, tanned a deep caramel from the summer sun, such an enticing color that Courtney had a desire to lick her. She heard rustling and felt Isabelle moving closer to her on the bed. She looked up, saw her plush, round, plum-colored lips. She wondered if they would taste like the watermelon candy they’d eaten earlier.

“Do you want me to show you?” Isabelle asked, one finger just barely touching her chin.

Courtney prayed that she didn’t appear overly enthusiastic when she nodded, closing her eyes. And then Isabelle’s soft, moist lips were on hers, and her fingertips itched, tentatively reaching out to graze her bare midriff, circling her waist, just as Isabelle lifted her head.

“Okay, now, remember, I’m the boy,” Isabelle reminded her, rolling Courtney onto her back. “So you need to follow my lead. This time, you gotta open your mouth.”

Courtney nodded, glassy-eyed. At that point she would’ve followed her off a cliff. Her lips parted eagerly and Isabelle slipped her tongue inside, shifting the weight of her body so that she was pressing Courtney down into the mattress.

Hands cupping Courtney’s face, Isabelle murmured soft instructions to her. “Rub your tongue against mine…suck on my bottom lip…squeeze my butt…” Courtney tried to hear and follow as she floated through the clouds, ecstatic and breathless by the sheer proximity of their bodies, bare skin of their bellies pressed together, the scent of her strawberry shampoo.

Skin flushed and burning, Courtney arched her body up, rolling her hips, lifting her knees, rubbing against the older girl, in a state of utter lust, until she was slammed back into reality by the sound of laughter, Isabelle rolling away. “Damn, Courtney. You’re a little nympho, aren’t you?”

Courtney raised herself onto her elbows, panting, hair falling into her eyes. She tried to catch her breath, watching Isabelle straighten her top and fix her lipstick, at a loss for words.

“It’s cool if I borrow these clothes, right? I’m meeting Megan and Zoe at the mall.”

“Y-yeah. It’s cool.”

“Great. See you later!”

***

By dinnertime, Courtney was still too embarrassed to join the family. She told Mrs. Peterson that she had a stomachache. Did Isabelle think she was…what did Isabelle think?

It turned out that her fears were for naught. Isabelle didn’t seem to think anything at all about her. She spent the next few days out with her friends, mostly, and when Courtney’s mom came to pick her up that Saturday, she merely gave her a casual wave and a “see you around,” barely looking up from the fashion magazine in her lap.

They didn’t see each other much over the next school year, either, since Isabelle was in the High School and Courtney was still in Primary. It was probably for the best when her family moved again the following summer. After seeing her boyfriend dropping her off a few times, Courtney knew that there would be no more “practicing” required, and she couldn’t bear those knowing smirks Isabelle would toss her way on the rare occasion she actually acknowledged her existence. Like she KNEW something.

She didn’t know anything.

With Isabelle gone, it was much easier for Courtney to paint on a smile and be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, the little angel that everyone wanted her to be. And over the next few years, the sharp pain Courtney felt every time she thought about the older girl faded into a dull ache, a small, insignificant scar on her psyche that she barely remembered, a part of who she was without ever thinking about it.

Although occasionally, the kissing lessons did come in handy.