cool things im to lazy to reblog to my main

Side blog of Jojotrashcan. this is where I reblog stuff that doesn't belong on my main blog. all nsfw is tagged

[taylortut]

i CANNOT express how much more lovable my friends are to me at their most annoying. i'd rather hear the same story 3 times than not at all. i'd rather read a 22 message text rant about something totally inconsequential than not hear from you all day. i'd rather you tag me in the stupidest post i've ever seen than not know that it made you think of a conversation we had a month ago. BE ANNOYING AT ME. I LOVE YOU

[datsderbunnyblog]

This comment was left on a post about making the most of the Libby app. "Excessive use of generous lending policies" is the most absurd phrase I've ever seen anyone use to discuss libraries.

[catboycommunist]

evergreen

[midnightinjapan]

This tag deserves a spotlight

[argisthebulwark]

Heaven With You

summary: knight Vilkas who can't stay away from the princess he's sworn to protect. original post here warnings: explicit sexual content - minors should not read or engage with this post in any way. not edited sory

"Princess." Vilkas interrupts her, trying to maintain an even tone. "I must ask again that you keep your voice down."

"I can't." She hiccups, hips bucking against his jaw. "Feels so good, I can't -"

"You will. Or I'll stop." Vilkas lies, bracing a hand on her hip. The gauzy material of her gown is annoying but Vilkas shoulders past it, ensuring that his nose brushes her clit as his tongue meets her cunt once more.

He can complain about being discovered all he wants but Vilkas adores every sound she makes. She whines his name and a sense of pride fills his chest - she's had an endless string of suitors fighting just to get her attention but he can reduce her to a whimpering mess in a matter of minutes.

Each time this happens Vilkas swears to all the gods that it is the last time. He indulges fully, licking and sucking and fucking his princess until she's a quivering mess because he intends to quit. He allows her to fall asleep on his chest believing that it's a kindness offered before he ends whatever is growing between them.

Yet he is always drawn back in. This time months had passed since their last dalliance. He'd drawn a boundary that she'd respected surprisingly well. No late night visits or pointed remarks. It almost hurt his feelings.

They must end it - her mother's interest in her prospective marriages grows with every day. Too many questions regarding why she's so resistant to marrying. There is no future for them. Vilkas will never be considered a suitable partner for her. He's a guard and nothing more.

Usually, his willpower broke when she attempts to handle the arousal herself. Watching her hips roll against her own fingers or a pillow resulting in whines of his name falling from her lips. Vilkas always enters her room intending to chastise her as if it will end with anything but him giving her exactly what she wants.

For the first time he'd broken first. Vilkas had entered his princess' quarters with an excuse prepared about hearing a noise. There was no noise - he just wished to be close to her. She'd gazed over him with an eager smile, one arm crooked painfully behind her.

"Vilkas, just in time." She'd turned back to the mirror, nose scrunching in annoyance. So cute. Vilkas had floated closer, selfish hands claiming her waist.

"Is that right?" He'd rasped, drinking in every inch of her. Her hair yanked free from its intricate twists and braids and painful shoes kicked aside.

"Help me get out of this gown, I'm exhausted."

He'd tried to be a respectful knight. he really did. Vilkas wasn't entirely certain how his princess had ended up in bed, her gown unlaced and legs over his shoulders. Truly a mystery.

"So fucking spoiled." He moans into her cunt, lapping at every drop of her arousal he can get. "You always get what you want, don't you?"

"You," she practically sobs it out, hips bucking like she intends to fuck herself on his tongue. "All I want 's you, Vilkas."

She climaxes around his fingers whining about wanting to be fucked. Vilkas doesn't have the heart to inform her that he orgasmed in his pants the instant she spoke his name. He sucks his fingers clean and kicks off the ruined trousers, allowing eager hands to tug him into bed.

He's so careful when removing her gown. Angry marks are streaked across her skin where the laces were done far too tight. Vilkas kisses down her back, every touch of his lips damning him further.

She's so rough with him. So honest. Nothing like the delicate, detached persona she wears to deal with suitors. Vilkas tucks the familiar blankets over the alluring sight of her body, intending to gather his clothing and scurry to his own room.

"Stay." She instructs, already curling into his chest. Vilkas' heart races as his princess settles against him with such familiarity.

"Princess." He murmurs the title, glad to see the little curl of her smile.

"Personal guard to the royal family." She counters, her eyes hardly open. She had a long day and Vilkas is guilty of keeping her from sleep.

"What is the real reason you refuse all of the suitors?" Vilkas dares to ask, terrified and excited to hear her answer. She yawns against his skin, a possessive arm curling around his middle.

"You are." The answer he desired. The one he feared. His princess' legs wrap around his and Vilkas settles in, certain that he'll be in her bed all night.

"Am I scaring them off?" He teases, offering her an opportunity to change her answer. Vilkas strokes hair out of her face and his heart does a funny little skip at the sight of his skin on hers.

"Probably." She teases halfheartedly. "But you know what I mean."

[catcrumb]

( hi everyone! it's that time of year again... expect me back sometime in august! in the meantime, consider donating to direct relief for earthquake recovery in venezuala! )

[downsteepy]

really resonate with these three as someone that also has huge headaches all the time

[ comms ]

[cryptdwelling]

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[coffinkissez]

Vincent talking about some “you’re mine” I’m cumming everywhere nnnghhhh

[3liza]

I feel very defensive about the "goth is bougie" shit because it is historically incorrect, yes, but also and more personally, because it just erases the generations of goth kids who grew up in trailer parks and project housing or just straight up homeless, helping each other out.

it's specifically such a supportive subculture for poor and neglected kids and I really fucking hate that this has been revised and erased. juggalos and goths are very culturally close and many subcultural people are both, and juggalos have the same (and, I would argue, even better defined) culture of collective support. the Skids in Letterkenny are not made up for the show, that's just a real type of rural subcultural person. this has also been forgotten in the interim but in the 90s and 00s we didn't even really refer to OURSELVES as "goths" very much except in a joking way. goths had regional endonyms (like "skids" or "trenchies") even if they could all go to a convention or a club in a city and in that context be all called "goths" together, once they went back home they would go back to being whatever the locals called them or whatever they called themselves. this is a whole linguistics and sociology subtopic that's out of scope for a Tumblr post but is sort of related.

my point is that people who wore actual rags, and sharpie instead of nail polish, and wet n wild eyeliner instead of black lipstick, and dyed their hair with markers or food coloring or kool-aid, were and are the core of the goth scene. the majority of the pictures the mallgoth blogs are posting are from catalogs, fashion shows, costume events, yearly balls and fetes like Wave Gothik Treffen, and other places where people save up literally all year, or many years in a row, to put together ONE outfit. and there's nothing wrong with that, personally I'm proud and pleased that our hard work is being recognized and preserved. but just like formal studio photographs from the Victorian era, it is not representative of the daily or even weekly (for clubs) reality of people in the scene, some of whom were completely out of goth clothing during the day or week just to fit in at work or sometimes just to get along without being bothered at home by family members who thought the Cure was Satanic.

the people who RUN the scenes, the promoters and DJs and gogo dancers and independent designers and people who run the mailing lists and websites, the people who organize the room parties at conventions, and yes even most of the original Burning Man camps like Thunderdome, they mostly live in poverty. especially if they're young. when people organize club nights and shows, they're lucky if they break even. I wasn't aware of any of this until I started working at DNA Lounge in San Francisco, which hosts one of the oldest goth nights in the country, Death Guild. I got to know the owner of DNA well enough to find out about the financial reality of the entire scene, even the people who own the means of production and the actual property in this case, and it's not lucrative. I mean, it sometimes is, if you're running a bar for normal people and have investment captain etc, but the majority of legit subculture economics is just barely breaking even. every single event is 90% volunteer labor.

the issue of labor is maybe the confusing thing for the zoomers who are confused. goth outfits take actual physical work. maybe the Aspirational Spectacle of Labor that makes up most of TikTok has made it appear unreal to the audience rather than something you can just sit down and do?

it takes forty seconds to make the fishnet tights into a shirt. you don't need instructions, you really can just look at it and figure it out. then you think, hm, if I can make fishnets into a shirt I wonder what other things I can turn into something else. your brain will amaze you. my mom would save her tights from her formal work outfits for me when they got holes or whatever and I would just go crazy with scissors and safety pins. lots of young designers are getting attention for this layered, tights-n-pins look at the moment and it really is a fantastic aesthetic but I wonder if people think there's something special about the people who make these clothes? there isn't. you can just do it at home while you watch trashy youtubes.

one time, around 2008 or so, @gothiccharmschool and I were at the photoshoot for tabletop RPG Unhallowed Metropolis. we were there with a bunch of local goths to all make the pictures for this book together. we had all brought tons of our costumes from home to cobble together outfits for the book illustrations, and there was a moment when I just handed Jilli a pile of black skirts and some pins and said hey Jilli, could you please make me up a bustle skirt for this model real quick while I shoot these other models? and of course she did, and they were beautiful, because she knows exactly what she's doing, and because that's all a bustle is: it's a way of bunching up a skirt with another skirt. you can do it at home. you don't need instructions or to hire a seamstress or watch a video. you can just look at something and say hm does it look like a bustle? let's drape it and play with it and pin whatever works. and then you wear it for the photoshoot, or to the club!!! and then next week you pin it a different way and it's a cape instead and you wear it again!!!!!!!

[gothiccharmschool]

I suspect this may be the topic that draws me out of my torpor about updating the actual Gothic Charm School site, but some quick asides here: The majority of goth fashion in the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s was DIY out of necessity. Even when there WERE pre-made goth clothes (Lip Service, Bogies, indie designers), most of us couldn't afford them. Even basic goth staples like fishnets and black lipstick or nail polish weren't available year-round. We waited until Halloween and cleared out the costume aisles of our local big-box retailers. A group of friends spent an evening pouring over the pages of the big fall fashion edition of Vogue that one of us bought so we could see what dark style clothing would be trickling down to the mall department stores so we could hit the clearance racks in January, or the thrift stores in March. We memorized the discount day schedule for thrift stores and bought wedding and prom dresses to hack apart and dye. We saved for shitty plastic-boned "corsets" from Frederick's of Hollywood to wear over those hacked-apart dresses. Goth, especially in the previous decades, was about getting whatever you could afford and figuring out how to make it spooky. Plain black leggings + thrift store or clearance black slip + layers of thrift store or clearance belts were a standard "goth uniform" for femme goths. Did we look amazing? No, not even half the time. But we took whatever we could afford and made it work as well as we could.

[gothiccharmschool]

Reblogging again because YOU DON’T NEED TO BUY EXPENSIVE CLOTHES TO BE GOTH is something that always needs to be repeated.

[spaceboytoy]

Hello bisexual community

[spaceboytoy]

Begin killing

[tartrazeen]

[littlestpersimmon]

free ornamentation. no copyright, use it however you wish. :)

[maraposting]

tumblr clearly hasn't watched mobile suit gundam enough because this art reminded me that char aznable should be THE tumblr sexyman but somehow isn't????

[roysflowers]

no more daddy. in 2026 all men whimper on floor pathetic

[happycloudkittens]

drunken pathetic mess.

synposis. your boss is drunk, horny and…pathetic?

18+ story | not proofread cause I don’t do that + no word count cause it’s short!! Enjoy

imagining a senior coworker, one who’s always stoic and super serious. but after a drunken work dinner, you found yourself in his car on his lap, writhing down on his bulge. His hands trailing up your side until one catches your breast, cupping it harshly as he plants rough, sloppy kisses all over your neck and jaw.

“Please…”  he begs, his deep voice desperate. It's not the same one he uses in meetings, it’s needy, almost pathetic. You run a hand through his hair as his finger brushes over your nipple softly and you just can't wait anymore, ripping off his belt.

It only takes two motions for him to lift you up, impaling you on his dick as you moan out loud. “Ah, fuck!” his thick veiny cock pushes up into you slowly, his hand gripping on your waist tightly as if he can't handle the feeling of a warm, young pussy. He buries his face in your neck, “Y/N...its too much, wait…s-slow down..” 

Yet you can't. You’ve never felt cock like this, your mind keeps flashing to images of him at his desk. all those times you would ogle him from afar, and now you finally have what you want. His strong hands are all over you, yet you never knew he would be so desperate, pushing his cock into you as far as he can, his hands starting to shake. “im..gonna come like this..” he moans. “I should pull out..”

You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him tighter. “dont..” you beg. You both turn into piles of yearning, begging messes as you both cum. Thick cum shooting into you as you become a squirting mess on his lap, ruining his pants and his seat. You don’t know how you’ll go back to sitting in the same office as him, as if nothing’s happened. Yet all he can think about, “Again please?”

[bearsockz]

It just makes sense

[damazcuz]

"What were you doing at the devils sacrament" jarking my whole thing off. Next quiestuon.

[decobray]

its okay for me to poison the kings wine i have really big boobs