AITA For Summoning A Purple On My Cousin Over A Discussion About Exes?

Psycho pass 10th

Shinya Kogami & Shogo Makishima clock

Noitamina shop

🐝  *  ―  𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.  (  nsfw.  as a reminder: your muse = sender and my muse = receiver.  add + reverse to reverse the action.  feel free to adjust to better fit your muses.  )

❛  you look absolutely irresistible right now.  ❜ ❛  there’s so many things i’d love to do to you.  ❜ ❛  it isn’t fair how much you turn me on.  ❜ ❛  i can’t stop thinking about you.  ❜ ❛  tell me what you want me to do.  ❜ ❛  do you want to take this somewhere more … private?  ❜ ❛  if you keep looking at me like that i don’t think i’ll be able to control myself any longer.  ❜ ❛  is this okay or do you want me to stop?  ❜ ❛  would it be wrong for me to kiss you?  ❜ ❛  i’ve noticed you’ve been staring at me this whole time.  ❜ ❛  why don’t you come a little closer?  ❜ ❛  the things i’d do to you if we weren’t out in public …  ❜ ❛  can you feel what you are doing to me?  ❜ ❛  i’ve got something really special planned for us.  ❜ ❛  we’ll see where the night will take us.  ❜ ❛  i’ve never felt such an instant connection with anyone else before.  ❜ ❛  you can do whatever you want to me.  ❜ ❛  it would be a shame to waste such a perfect opportunity.  ❜ ❛  i’ve always wanted to do this.  ❜ ❛  you’ve been teasing me for far too long. it’s my turn now.  ❜

[  WALL  ]  *  your muse pins my muse against the closest wall. [  ALMOST KISS  ]  *  my muse leans closer to your muse almost like they’re trying to initiate a kiss, only to pull away in the last second. [  TEASE  ]  *  my muse teases your muse either by touch or words or any other way that works for them. [  TUG  ]  *  your muse tugs my muse closer and wraps their arms around them. [  STRIPTEASE  ]  *  my muse gives your muse a show as they take off their clothes. [  LAPDANCE  ]  *  my muse gives your muse a lapdance. [  SECUDE  ]  *  my muse whispers sweet nothings to your muse. [  EYE CONTACT  ]  *  your muse gazes deeply into my muse’s eyes. [  LINGER  ]  *  your muse gives my muse lingering touches. [  STUCK  ]  *  our muses are stuck in a small broom closet together. [  BLUSH  ]  *  your muse makes my muse blush with their words. [  CLOSER  ]  *  my muse comes closer, invading more of your muses personal space. [  ACCIDENTAL BRUSH  ]  *  my muse touches your muse ( somewhere intimate ) on accident. [  PURPOSEFUL TOUCH  ]  *  my muse touches your muse ( somewhere intimate ) on purpose. [  FLIRT  ]  *  my muse flirts with your muse.

fav screenshots of Luka from F I N A L

#BLOODCHOSO. BY TEDDY.

Liu Xiao - Shiguang Dailiren II - Episode 12 - Can’t live without a good brother

‘ dodge me then. ’ he stands in position, legs flexed and all spidery and the next thing nagumo knows is that he's under attack.

boop boop boop boop boop

Cue an exaggerated, immature dry heave as he's booped by @einshi . " Stop! I don't want to catch whatever is wrong with you. "

we don’t rp bc of the bottom allegations.

what allegations? care to show me?

give me a reason why you DON'T rp with me.

𝐮𝐥𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @unknown-in-narnia

[Character PV] Ranking No. 10 - Nice "A manifestation of the perfect hero as imagined by the people. He brings the elegance of a ballerino to all his battles, mesmerizing all who witness them."

there’s not a breath to be taken without precaution. whether it’s the will of the hot, sinister flavor of victory or a more primal apprehension, ulquiorra isn’t sure. but he wants to hear the monster growl again, cry if he must. beg, like the rest of them had when faced with something larger than themselves.

it’s hardly a sweet sound, grimmjow’s baritone carried defiance the kind that you could only find in untamed hollows, the misguided souls that are still too raw and persistently detached from authority, save from the chains that bind them to the skeletal forms. there is no placid trolling to it. unlike ulquiorra’s own voice, apathetic, cruel in its manner devoid of empathy, grimmjow’s groans feel more corporeal than ulquiorra’s own presence. the applied pressure burying itself deep into grimmjow’s marrow becomes the only symbol of his wicked existence in a room so wide and empty.

tongue darts out to wrap itself around ulquiorra’s digits, the sensation a shot of liquid fire when it’s met with the hierro layer that always seemed to run cold. curiosity. confusion. the reasons for such action escaped him, though he’d heard bits of it from other espada — desire, lust. it hardly matters now. ulquiorra doesn’t relent.

‘ what are you doing, grimmjow. ’ fiercely, his right hand clasps around the other’s jaw. bones give in, something cracks. it’s nothing compared to the damages of drawn out battles, the sort of commodity that blood-thirsty beings seek and get drunk off on most nights - it always is night time - so he applies more pressure just to make a statement. 

ulquiorra’s gaze doesn’t falter. ‘ how convenient. your mouth taunts and yet you choose to take the punishment with baseless threats. go. try to defeat me. you can’t? or do you not want to? what could you possibly say to make excuses for yourself after this—? ’ the heel that had remained motionless aims a kick to his stomach, sending him back to the floor. ulquiorra is quick, looming over grimmjow’s tall figure sprawled on the ground. slowly, as if testing the waters, ulquiorra lowers his head, locking gazes. here, now, there’s only grimmjow and him. here, only one man could judge him.

‘ your body is more honest than your tongue. what should i do with it? ’ frigid fingers run down grimmjow’s bared throat, down to his sternum, keenly aware of their new proximity, the heightened nerves beneath his touch,  ‘ should i rip it out and feed the troops with it, or should i make you swallow your own sword? show me, i might begin to understand you. ’

THE  PROBLEM  WITH  CRAMMING  THE  ESPADA  TOGETHER  -  WAS  too  much  power  and  too  many  big  personalities  for  the  proffered  space.  they  were  no  better  than  feral  animals  really,  scratching  an  existence  out  of  survival  of  the  fittest.  the  primordial  part  of  him  knew  sharper  teeth  and  claws  meant  victory,  but  ulquiorra  (  despite  him  knowing  better  )  had  a  vast  well  of  untapped  power  -  an  unending  wealth  of  dominance  that  might  sink  into  grimmjow's  flesh  at  any  moment.  he  hated  it  -  loathed  it  through  the  emptiest  part  of  him.  the  bastard  had  no  spark  -  no  fire.  his  cold,  unfeeling  mish-mash  of  souls  was  appalling  to  number  6,  who  felt  unerring  destruction  to  his  very  marrow.

but  that  was  the  thing  about  being  an  arrancar...  sometimes,  the  wires  got  a  little  crossed.

spirit  pressure  swells  around  him  -  a  threat  and  a  promise.  it  writhes  against  his  own,  melding  against  his  skin  and  cracking  his  defenses  far  too  quickly.  grimmjow  feels  that  he  can't  breathe  (  or  at  least  he  thinks  that's  what  this  sensation  is  )  -  each  inch  of  him  grinding  in  agony.  the  weight  of  a  million  souls  presses  down  down  down  -  and  white  teeth  are  bared  again,  the  phantom  outline  of  a  tail,  black  claws  taking  shape  as  he's  pushed,  pressed,  and  bent.

his  knees  hit  the  hard  floor  with  a  painful  crack,  and  the  hiss  he  lets  out  his  predatory.

of  course  grimmjow  tries  to  stand  -  of  course  wildness  and  rage  and  the  thirst  for  a  fight,  fight,  fight  permeates  his  very  being,  pooling  saliva  into  his  mouth.  ulquiorra  -  a  worthy  opponent,  right  there,  ready  to  struggle  for  the  top  spot...  yet  strong  pressure  and  a  hand  keeps  him  on  his  knees,  and  grimmjow  is  about  to  lean  down  and  simply  sink  his  teeth  into  his  arm,  tear  into  him  with  unfettered  savagery  when…

❝ nn- ❞

he's  not  so  much  ashamed  by  the  noise  that  leaves  him  -  not  so  much  ashamed  by  the  heat  that  curdles  in  his  limbs  when  ulquiorra  does  that  with  his  foot  -  as  he  is  by  the  sheer  knowledge  that  he  has  effectively  been  scruffed  like  an  an  unruly  cat  -  and  has  to  stare  up  at  the  fourth  with  a  different  sort  of  guarded  hunger  in  his  gaze.

❝ you're  so  fucking  annoying, ❞   he  eeks  out,  breathing  still  labored,  body  wired.  black  tipped  claws  sluggishly  raise,  coiling  about  his  wrist  again  -  except  this  time  he  forces  ulquiorra's  hand  upwards,  and  the  pad  of  his  rough  tongue,  feline,  skates  along  fingertips.  ❝ all  self-righteous  an'  haughty.  you  think  you've  gotten  the  best  of  me? ❞  yet  his  voice  is  breathless,  whether  from  the  swell  of  desires,  or  the  thorough  disciplining  -  it  was  hard  to  say.  even  so,  he  bumps  his  jaw  against  the  back  of  his  fellow  espada's  hand,  rubbing  lightly  -  the  faintest  rumble  resonating  from  deep  within  his  core.

❝ just  wait,  you  bat  bastard. ❞   the  purr  rises  and  swells,  a  continuous  cacophony  while  grimmjow  dares  to  eek  his  hips  upwards,  and  dares  to  smirk  once  more.   ❝ just  wait,  until  i  get  my  fangs  in  you. ❞