Sorry I'm Being An Absent Friend I'm Being An Absent Self Too

Can anybody give these old-ass Democrats protest lessons? They're acting like they're still living in pre-2015 politics when the GOP gave a shit and wasn't deranged.

A member gets up and starts shouting: All get up and shout with him.

Don't walk out: MAKE them carry you all out, not shutting up the entire time. I'm serious, go limp, be dead weight.

Putin's Puppet says a provable lie: Everyone chant "LIE" in unison for a solid minute instead of holding pitiful little signs in front of a man who can't read above a 3rd grade level.

Have someone who knows ASL sitting with you, interpreting everything in full view.

If you're gonna hold signs, make them BIG like you're actually trying to do something. Have them in multiple languages.

Make other signs that say clever or cutting things that will make him rage for days. "DOESN'T OLD TRUMP LOOK TIRED?" or "PUPPET PRESIDENT" or "EVERYONE IS FACT-CHECKING THIS SPEECH TRUMP DIDN'T WRITE" or "THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES" or his current tanking approval rating next to a laughing emoji.

Make a stink every day in congress, throw as many bills as you can on the floor even if they go nowhere, look like you're trying.

Have someone, idk maybe someone you actually want to boost for President in 3 gd years, be your voice of opposition in the media, loudly complaining and telling the facts, every single day. Let the people know you're there!

How hard is this? There's probably better suggestions than mine if they actually hired seasoned protestors or behaviorists/psychologists or even the biggest teenage troll they can find on a messageboard.

The Emperor Has No Clothes. So fucking act like it.

Johnny Slaughter x Reader housewife request

Cut this down to just the smut, you heathens

Contains: blood, knifeplay, cutting, marking, and smut

You were in the middle of stirring scrambled eggs when you felt a hand slip down the waistband of your shorts, sending a shock shooting down your spine.

"Johnny, I don't get how you're always so quiet," you said, giggling as you felt him press his toned body against yours from behind, his fingers toying with the lace of your black panties.

"Huntin' works better when your prey don't know you're comin'," he whispered against your ear before nipping your earlobe.

"You don't have to hunt me, baby. I'd be as easy to hunt as roadkill," you joked. Johnny smirked against your ear, the validity of your statement all too true.

"You're too pretty to be roadkill, babydoll," he rumbled. "I'd make you into a trophy. Hang you in my bedroom so I could look at your beautiful face every night 'fore I fell asleep."

It took some time before you'd gotten used to his fascination with keeping trophies, but the numerous animal heads hanging on your walls showed he wasn't slowing down any time soon. You leaned your weight back against him, enjoying the feel of his bare torso, and smiled as his lips trailed down your neck.

Still, the hardness you felt pressing against your backside proved that the outfit you'd worn to entice him had worked, and your mind was already becoming hazy with lust.

"I been thinkin'," Johnny said, kissing the nape of your neck, "you'd make the most fuckable little housewife."

Your pulse fluttered against his lips. You'd never pushed him for anything; you'd been happy just being his girl. But the word "housewife" made your heart race. He hooked a thumb in your waistband and pulled your shorts and panties down, and his fingers quickly found your already soaked slit.

"Oh yeah?" You gasped as he dipped his fingers inside you. "You think so?"

He murmured an affirmative against your skin while he rocked his hips against your butt. "I know it. What do you think, babydoll? You wanna get married?"

Your lips curled, one of your hands flipping the burners off on the stove before you turned around to face him. His head was cocked to the side, a handsome smile on his face. Your eyes trailed down his bare chest, pausing at each scar, each one telling a different story before looking up into his deep brown eyes. "It's a tempting proposal, but I could use some convincing. Why don't you make me?"

He smiled, but it wasn't friendly. No, it was more like a predator, the type to make your blood run cold.

"Alright, I'll make you, darlin'. If you really want me to, I will."

You felt like a rabbit in a snare, squeezed between his muscular body and the stove, completely at his mercy.

"What'll it be, sugar?" He asked, his hands on your hips, and his eyes trailing down to your cleavage before snapping back up to meet your gaze.

You leaned forward and cupped the bulge in his jeans with one hand.

"Make me."

That was all it took. Johnny's fingers sank into your hips almost painfully as he yanked you against him. "You'll eat those words, darlin'," he growled.

Then he dropped to his knees and pulled your hips against his lips like a man starved. You gripped his wrists while his broad hands cupped your ass, forcing your hips toward him as he burrowed into you.

He always loved eating you out, but this time there was a primal aspect to the way he licked and nipped at your folds. Your fingers entwined in his dark locks as you moaned his name while he traced your entrance, gathering every last drop of your sticky wetness.

Johnny twirled his tongue around your clit and dove in so hard you could feel his teeth against your lips, his tongue curling upward, lifting your hips into his hungry mouth.

Desire dripped down your thighs, mingling with his saliva, while your muscles clenched and shivered. They remained taut, each nerve pulsating with sensation. It felt like an exhilarating marathon, beautiful agony traveling from your thighs to your hips. Moans spilled from your lips, and you tried to draw him closer, but he withdrew.

"This pretty little pussy is mine," he said, his voice low and possessive, before thrusting two fingers into you, making you whimper and tug at his hair. His lips descended upon your clit, nibbling it, sending sparks of both torment and ecstasy throughout your body.

"You're such a slut for me, baby girl." His fingers moved to tease your sweet spot, making your toes curl. "So fucking wet."

He stood, and you whined at the loss of his tormenting touch. His eyes were hungry and dangerous. "You're going to be my pretty little housewife, aren't you, baby?"

You gasped as he pressed against you, his hands on either side of the stove, trapping you.

"I could be," you purred, "but… I'm not entirely convinced."

His gaze darkened. "You're mine," he hissed, a predatory snarl forming at the corner of his lips.

"Prove it," you whispered breathlessly. His pupils dilated, and suddenly, you felt the tip of a blade pressing against the soft skin of your stomach.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you looked up at him. Fear mingled with a strange sense of excitement, sending tingles shooting through you.

"Johnny?" You whispered as your mouth ran dry.

"You ever watch someone die?" He said, more to himself than to you.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. Johnny had always had a fascination with his Bowie knife, and sometimes you'd glimpse it stained with fresh blood, but he had never wielded it against you—until now.

"You ain't never quite the same after that, lemme tell ya."

Both of your eyes fixed on the blade as he subtly twisted it, drawing a single droplet of blood from your delicate skin. You winced, but you didn't concentrate on the pain as you were enraptured by the intense look on Johnny's face.

With the pad of his thumb, he traced the droplet and brought it to his lips. You were immobilized, watching as his eyes fluttered closed, savoring your essence. A low growl rumbled in his throat, as if your blood were an exquisite ambrosia.

Johnny had given you love bites, sure, but this was the first time he'd purposefully tasted your blood. You could tell he reveled in it, and part of you wondered why he never asked to try it before.

You would have let him, after all. He could've had any and all of you that he desired.

As the unfamiliar tingle of blood leaving your body coursed through you, he picked you up roughly, and your legs wrapped around his hips reflexively. Your blood smeared against his abs, but he didn't seem to mind; in fact, it seemed to arouse him even more as he carried you to your shared bedroom and laid you down like an offering.

Your eyes remained wide, adrenaline surging through you as he unzipped his pants and revealed his gorgeous erection, stroking it hungrily while his eyes devoured your body. He looked at you like a man might admire an ice sculpture, as if he expected that he wouldn't get to admire your beauty much longer.

"Baby?" You asked hesitantly as you tried to sit up in bed.

Something sinister sparked behind his eyes, and he left the room briefly, returning with a handful of rope. "Oh, you ain't getting away. I'm keeping you," he snarled, then knelt on the bed beside you, tying your wrists together and then to the bedpost with ease.

A rush surged behind your ears as he immobilized you, leaving only your legs free, trembling with both arousal and fear.

How did he know how to handle the rope like that? He'd never tied you up before, but the way he did it so effortlessly spoke of practiced experience. You'd always felt that Johnny was hiding something from you, and you had a suspicion it was directly related to his ability to make you feel absolutely helpless.

But what Johnny didn't know was, some part of you had been waiting for this. You were more soaked than you could ever remember being before, and the unadulterated bloodlust he exuded was intensely alluring.

"You ain't going anywhere," he growled, his eyes ablaze with an intensity you had never witnessed before. Your blood gleamed on his torso, and every sinew of his body appeared tightly wound, poised for imminent action. "Ready to meet the Bad Man?"

"The Bad Man from your dreams?" You let out a trembling whimper. Now, this was the figure you'd only encountered in Johnny's waking nightmares. Those harrowing nights when he'd awaken in terror, locked in a life-and-death struggle with an invisible foe. Those nights when he shielded you with his body even in slumber, and upon waking, he remained unconvinced of your safety for days upon days.

"Darlin', he's all too real," he murmured, his words dripping with a chilling anticipation. With deliberate slowness, he drew nearer, his eyes locked onto yours. When his face finally met yours, he seized your head and tilted it to the side, trailing his tongue from your collarbone to your ear, where he clamped down with savage intensity. A sharp cry escaped your lips as he pressed his body flush against yours, the taste of fresh blood flooding his ravenous mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as he ground his hips against your stomach, his length squeezed between you both. Tears welled in your eyes, but you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before.

"Johnny," you whimpered as he continued to suck your earlobe.

"You wanted this, darlin'," he said with a chilling laugh.

You bit your lip. "I-I'm not asking you to stop."

And, for some reason, that gave him pause.

"Really?" He asked, pulling back. His lips were bloodstained, but that wildfire that had consumed him was simmering behind his gaze as he regarded you with equal parts possession and hunger.

You nodded. "Yes, really. I always knew there was something you were hiding. I want you to know I love you. All of you, Johnny," you said, even as your body shook. "And," you let your wrists go slack, "I like being claimed by you like this."

Something in Johnny shifted then. It was almost too much, the flood of emotions that swept over him, and he didn't realize it, but you felt his tears splatter against your skin.

"I love you more," he said, his voice barely a whisper. You'd heard him say it before, especially during sex, but this was different. It sent chills rippling through you. And when his aching cock slid into your wetness, you both gasped in pure ecstasy.

He gripped your thighs, pulling you against him, and groaned deeply. You felt so good that he couldn't help but pick up the pace, driving into you with a fervor. All your nerve endings coiled and tensed, already hypersensitive, and you wrapped your legs around his powerful hips in euphoria.

"I'm gonna make sure you ain't never forget who owns you," he said, and you mewled in response as he withdrew from you and reached to the bedside table, taking his knife in hand. You caught your reflection in the silver blade, your skin flushed, your lips parted and panting. You couldn't wait to see what he'd do.

Johnny used two fingers to gently circle your clit, keeping you on edge as he traced the tip of the knife between your breasts, down your belly, and to your hip where he'd marked you earlier. His motions slowed to allow him better control, and he pressed the tip of the blade into your skin again, a little deeper than before.

You winced but didn't move as he etched into your skin. Your body was screaming to have him back inside you, and his slow circles on your clit were driving you mad with desire. Pain was indistinguishable from pleasure as he carved your skin like an artist working on a masterpiece. When he finished, he dipped his head and ran his tongue along the marks he'd made. When he withdrew his tongue, you caught the small JS he'd carved just above your hip before blood obscured it.

"Mine," he said once more, and this time, you didn't argue. After all, no one else had their initials etched into your flesh.

Johnny continued to play with your clit as he positioned himself at your entrance before pushing into you again. You'd submitted to him before, but this time was different. This time, you felt nothing but pure bliss. You were his, it could no longer be denied, nor would you ever want to deny it.

The resounding slap of his balls colliding with your sopping wetness was lewd enough to make your mind spin, or perhaps it was the blood loss, but either way, you felt light-headed and airy under his command. One hand moved to cup your breast while the other continued to assist his cock in driving you to the brink.

"Are you going to be my perfect little housewife?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours as he thrust deeply into you. You could see two sides to him, the vicious and the docile, in harmony in his rapturous gaze.

"I will," you conceded, your breaths coming in sharp pants while he pistoned into your exquisitely viscous core.

"Cum for me, babydoll," he commanded. The tension that had been building since the moment he approached you sprung loose, and you climaxed hard around his throbbing length. With a guttural groan and a final, deep thrust, you felt his climax paint your inner walls before he collapsed on top of you, completely spent.

You wanted to wrap your arms around him, but they were still tied to the bedposts, so instead, you kept your legs locked around his hips and nuzzled your cheek against the top of his head. He looked up at you with the same smile that had melted your heart the first day you met him.

"Thank you, babydoll. Thank you."

━━━━━ ʕ•㉨•ʔ ━━━━━━

Commissions Open!

۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝

Hello everybody! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

I'm now accepting commissions for custom furry/beast/animal art. Whether you’re looking for a unique headshot, a colouring base or even a character designer, I’ve got you covered.

Headshot (Flat-Color): 15€ – 20€

Headshot (CEL Shaded): 20€ – 30€

۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰★۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝꒷۰۰꒷꒦⏝꒷꒦.⏝

Slots available:

2/3

Before ordering a commission, check my TOS on my website!

━━━━━ ʕ•㉨•ʔ ━━━━━━

Kinktober Day 17: Hate Sex

Hoodie/Brian Thomas X GN!Reader AFAB

[Warnings: rough sex, marking, degradation, facial, language, if you are a minor dni]

[AN: 1506 words]

Kinktober Masterlist

“You’re fucking disgusting,” you sneer to your superior as you shove him back down onto the bed, a snarl on your lips as you grind your hips against him - his cock rests against your stomach. . Fire dances in your eyes as your nails claw at his chest. Your brows are locked in a furrow as he grins up at you, anger bubbling beneath his amused expression.

“What?” He asks innocently, his hands moving to your hips before you slap him away. “The fact that I can do my job better than you can? You gonna take out all that unchecked aggression on me because you can’t shoot straight?”

You snarl and claw into his chest, leaving deep, red marks before shifting your knees upwards, thighs and calves tensing as you lift yourself over his dripping cock. Your cunt’s slick falls over him like drops of rain.

Brian’s hand moves from your lower half to his cock, palming it before slowly, teasingly stroking it. “You’re a needy little whore, aren’t you?” He chuckled, the condescending tone lacing through his words like venom.

You roll your eyes and position yourself over him. “Move your fucking hand.”

Brian hums for but a moment, the proxy superiority in him bending ever so slightly to your words. “Whatever you say,” he says in that ‘bless your heart’ tone. He places his hands behind his head, watching as you threaten to slam down on him.

You huff, chest tight and rife with anger for this proxy that treats you like dirt because you’re the runt in the group. You’ve proven time and time again that you’re better than that, that you’ve earned your place but still he hits you with a pistol for the most minor of fuck ups. Your emotions are flying, fire running through your veins as you finally lower yourself onto his cock.

The warmth spreads through your lower abdomen as you settle in lower and lower on him, nails leaving little half moon crescents that bead with blood on Brian’s chest as he hisses at the feeling.

You hilt on him, the feeling almost overwhelming. “I’m surprised your dick isn’t as disappointing as your personality,” you manage to choke out before listing upwards, gradually moving into bouncing on his lap.

Brian removes his hands from behind his head and grips your thighs tightly, rough, calloused hands with short nails digging into your soft flesh as he does so. He grits his teeth as you bounce on him, his balls growing tight at the feeling of your cunt squeezing around him as if you were hungering for him.

“Your cunt is swallowing my dick so eagerly and you think you have room to talk?” Brian teases through a sneer as he bucks his hips upwards to meet you. “You’re a fucking liar and your body is telling me otherwise.” His hands fly up to your waist, gripping you tightly like he doesn’t care that he’s hurting you before slamming you down onto the bed, the air getting knocked from your lungs.

You gasp and glare up at him, barely even able to process that he’s got you spread wide open for him before he’s pounding back into you. You moan loudly, hissing and growling, slowly giving into the pleasure as his fingers pinch and prod your clit.

Brian’s hips roll forwards, again and again. His upper pubic area brushes against you with every roll and you can’t help but tilt your hips upwards to meet him. His hazel colored eyes look at you with nothing short of disdain before he brings his mouth downwards, pressing nips of his teeth to your collar and shoulder before working up to your neck.

Your hands, that were pressed against his chest, unhook from his now red marked skin to his back where you sink your claws in and rake up and down. You mewl through the pleasure and curse him out at the same time.

“I hate liars,” Brian mumbles against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Think you deserve to get punished for lying to this group’s right hand-”

Your eyes roll upwards as you curl into him upon the prickling sensation of teeth biting into your neck. You can feel his canines sink into the flesh, marking you before he pops off and instead trades the bites for bruises. “You fucking animal-!” You seethe, knowing there’s no way to explain the marks he’s leaving on you. It’s the middle of summer - how the hell are you going to handle that?

“Don’t lie again to me,” Brian darkly warns as his fingers pinch your clit harshly and begin to roll the overworked bundle of nerves that send almost painful waves of electrified pleasure through your fluttering cunt and out towards the rest of your body. “If you do, I’ll make that bite mark symmetrical.”

You want to snarkily reply to him when the feeling of him rutting into you clouds over any thoughts you may have. You can feel every vein and his full length, how his head is still weeping precum and how he’s getting deeper and deeper with every thrust. You want to tell him something demeaning, but it would be a lie. Your body is a slave to the pleasure.

Your hips continually buck upwards to meet his thrusts as you also grind against his hand for the clitoral stimulation. Everything feels fuzzy and what you would describe as TV static. Your eyes are lost watching his muscles contract with every pounding, and his breath his like fire on your skin.

“I fucking-” you gasp when he presses yout clit particularly hard, “-hate you. You’re a goddamn nightmare in human form and I-” your thoughts are derailed when he pushes deeply inside of you, the thick, heavy thrust pressing you into the mattress while his teeth bite at your collarbone.

“Stupid whores need to mind their manners,” he huffs, accenting every syllable with an even harsher thrust. “That cost you.”

“Cost me - ah - what?”

Brian’s eyes briefly look up at you with nothing short of mischief before he subtly shakes his head. “Remember your place or I’ll put you back there myself.”

Suddenly, his thrusts become damn near erratic. He’s moving faster, harder, and working your clit so hard you can’t help but clamp your thighs around him and screech to the heavens how much you hate that he’s making you feel as good as he does.

Your body is practically pulsing, humming, beating in sync with your abused cunt that’s begging for release. You’re gripping Brian so hard that you’re sure Tim is going to ask if he got into a fight with a bear. Your ears melt at the sound of him calling you every awful thing under the sun. He really hates you, doesn’t he?

“You gonna cum on my cock?” Brian rasps against you. “You gonna show me how pathetic you are and bust all over the cock of the man you hate the most?” He giggles almost gleefully as you pant beneath him. “Isn’t that rich? You’re so fucking stupid that you’d actually get off to me fucking you like a whore even though I treat you like one,” he continues to ramble off, his voice low and slightly sing-songy. He likes seeing your frustration. “Cum on my cock then, show me how stupid you really are.”

The floodgates burst and you spasm around him, your body feeling lighter than air as static and symphonies overtake your vision and hearing. You can hear your heart pounding in your chest as your cunt waterfalls over him, squeezing and pulsing as he continues to rut inside of you. A loud, pained moan leaves your throat from the sheer overstimulation as arch into his chest, nails digging in so deep that you’re not sure you can even be pried off of him when suddenly, he pushes you off of him.

Brian’s thick cock leaves your hungry cunt and before you know it, he’s planted a knee by the side of your head and his cock is waving in front of your face. He wraps his hand around it and begins to stroke it, quickly. He snorts like a bull as he tilts his head back. “Open your mouth.”

Not needing to be told twice, you open your mouth, tongue lolling out slightly and watch for a split second as thick ropes of cum begin to rain down from the head of his cock. Your eyes flutter shut on instinct before the spurts hit your face. You feel warmth splashing over the bridge of your nose, your brow bone, your cheeks before your intuition says he’s done.

You slowly peel your eyes open, the sticky liquid blanketing your face before it slowly begins to drip down as you tilt your head upwards. You see Brian’s lips pulled into a smile.

“What?”

He chuckles, his eyes checking you over.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. This is the first time he’s ever looked at you with content.

[1920s!Brian]

𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚢𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜

reblog to bap him on his stupid faceplate