#and it's lame as hell
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
how do u feel about valentinos wings being his coat??
The same way I feel about Vaggie being an Angel; I saw it coming and it's mid at fucking best.
#Hazbin Hotel#way too much of what I'm learning about this show is ''oh... Yeah...''#and it's lame as hell#there's twists making no sense for shock value#and then there's whatever Hazbin Hotel has going on#'cause being able to accurately guess this shit from a 30 minute pilot#that is arguably only marginally canon at this point#is downright depressing#also the fact I was able to accurately guess that Vaggie was an Angel when she actually *wasn't* at the start#is extra fucking sad#like she used to have a human name and a death date#she was just a demon at one point during the development#and I'm sorry but the Princess of Hell falling for just some random demon girl#is *way* more interesting than ''oh yeah she's an Angel''#'cause it's like well yeah...#I could probably keep going about all the stuff in this show I find really mediocre#but I'll stop here for now#I think the main problem is how well the pilot did#the show was never gonna live up to that hype
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I think it would be very cool if Hopeful Steward's cape laid flat like ribbons when calm, but fluttered out and acted like dragon fly wings when flying because they look lame as hell otherwise
#i am a very big fan of the glowing trail effect tho#i wish they made it glow brighter#because it is VERY NEAT#also the colors for his trail is very curious#especially when all magic is color coded in sky#alef and steward magic parallels my beloved#also yes i gave him an extra ribbon so he can have water fire earth AND AIR#because i am lame as hell#sky cotl#sky children of the light#hopeful steward#dusk ember#my art
639 notes
·
View notes
Text
korvo lost and farting 0 stars for you my boy
#solar opposites#solaropposites#korvo#tervo#did any of you guys read the interview where they said#they're never going to break up but he's constantly worried that Terry's going to leave him#Yeah.#korvo being so full of self loathing and feeling undeserving of happiness to the point where once he realizes the button was pressed#he was like Ah this makes sense. Surely this life is fabricated and terry doesn’t actually love me nor do i even deserve him#all my suspicions are true!#YEAH. HOLY SHIT.#and terry reaffirming his love for him oughh guys he loves him because he’s lame and stupid CALLBACK TO LOVING THE UGLY PARTS!! HELLO!!#korvo being so desperate in that episode to hold onto his family and his marriage NOT NOW KITTEN DADDY NEEDS A FUCKING CIGARETTE#and terry and korvo still falling in love in the alternate universe They would find each other in every universe bitch#korvo grabbing the what if box and burning his hands like holy hell
686 notes
·
View notes
Text
final day
full image :3
#raaaaaa i spent a little too long on this#was fun tho! ive done like one comic type drawing in my life i should really make these more often#anyway the finale was goofy af but ill be damned if i dont dramatise the hell out of it#chunkbanning may have been a lame idea but the visual of them slowly inching their way out of it goes hard as fuck#roshambogames#clownpierce#branzycraft#lifesteal smp#lifesteal fanart#lssmp#my art#tealarts
561 notes
·
View notes
Text
My most controversial Dungeon Meshi opinion is that Laios would hate Omegaverse actually. He’d think it’s boring and scientifically inaccurate (the worst things it could be to him).
#polly speaks#omegaverse tw#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#delicious in dungeon#Laios touden#I know I’m like throwing a grenade with this but idc I’m speaking my truth#he’d be like um actually none of this is real wolf behavior. also if you’re gonna make people act like animals make them look like them too#otherwise what’s the point#am I projecting on laios again? probably#but idc im right#all I can say is that REAL monsterfuckers tend to think omegaverse is lame as hell
534 notes
·
View notes
Text
they gave link a fuckjng hoverboard
#venting my frustration at no confirmation of loftwings#sorry for being a joyless traditionalist but i think modern technology in fantasy is lame as hell#nintendo direct#totk#loz#loz link#loz fanart#like ok technology can be very cool and fun#but they literally just gave him an atv#give me like. beetle cars. give me fantasy influenced tech#dont just slap glowey green on a straight up car#my hatred is partially fueld by a distinct lack of loftwings#ever since they gave us that shot of link running and jumping off one of those floating islands like he does in sksw#ive been hoping for loftwings i didnt even consider it before but now it is a meed#NEED#kiddokori
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm hot shit and so is my alpha: Bakugou, Todoroki, Monoma, Mic
My alpha is so much cooler than me, wow: Midoriya, Kirishima, Denki
I am so much cooler than my alpha, how did I end up with this nerd (affectionate): Shinsou, Dabi
We're both lame as hell, and that's the way I like it: Aizawa
Please assume both my alpha and I are decent and normal, thank you: Sero, Iida, Toshinori
I don't deserve my alpha, but now I have them, you can pry them out of my cold dead hands: Hawks
All of the above in a continuous cycle, bar the normal part: Shiggy
#mha#bnha#headcanons#hcs#a/b/o#omegaverse#this is only what they would say btw#some of them are liars#because let's be real monoma and his alpha are both lame as hell
242 notes
·
View notes
Text
small town, sunday night
Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader
a discarded scene from a longer fic. Bo's pretty sure by now you know who you belong to, but he oughta make sure, just in case. on ao3 here if you wanna.
2.4k words. porn with plot if you squint. extremely dubious consent. Stockholm syndrome. forced exhibitionism, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, emotional manipulation. tried out something new where the narration is written more in Bo's voice and i'm interested to see if that works for you or nah so lmk.
The whole family’s gathered in the den on a Sunday night. It ain’t tradition, not really, it’s just that if everyone’s gonna get together it’s gonna be on Sunday.
Nobody felt like cookin’ and he don’t trust you ‘round the knives yet, so Les picked up some fried chicken from the Kroger and Bo said grace and you behaved yourself like a nice young lady, and now everybody’s sittin’ in front of the television drinkin’ beer and watchin’ football like some kinda all-American family.
He’s got you sat on his lap in a sundress that belonged to some other bitch before you. It don’t fit you right, barely covers your ass, but that’s fine by him. His brothers keep eyeing you like you’re the skin mag by the cash register. He'll let ‘em look; in fact, he wants them to look. Plus it freaks you out, makes you press yourself against his chest in search of protection and boy, if that don’t make him wanna laugh out loud. He’s all too happy to oblige, wrappin’ you in his arms and whisperin’ sweet sugary bullshit in your ear. You’re servin’ yourself up to him on a silver platter and you don’t even realize it.
He snags the six-pack off the side table and hands it to you, watches you wrestle a beer from the plastic ring and pop the tab for him without being asked.
“Good girl,” he says, and kisses your cheek when he takes the can from you. You're bein’ such an angel today that it’s got him nostalgic for that bitch with the bad attitude. He wonders if she's gone for good or if he could dig around in that pretty head of yours and find her. “You want one?”
You hesitate. He watches you do the math. You know by now you can’t get somethin’ for nothin’, but apparently you think you got plenty to give because you nod quietly.
“G’on.” He dangles the six-pack in front of you and lets you pick one for yourself. He watches the way you set your lips on the rim of the can, watches your throat bob as you swallow. Your gaze shifts uncertainly to him and he winks at you. You almost—almost—give him a shaky little smile.
You adjust yourself in his lap, tug on your dress, try to get comfortable. He rests his chin on your shoulder and waits for you to settle. He likes the smell of his soap on your skin, even if it makes him miss the animal stench of you from before. Bringin’ you home was a good call. You clean up sweet and so far you’ve been learnin’ your lessons real well. Shit, he’s almost proud of you.
Once you’ve mellowed out, sippin’ on your beer and pretendin’ this is where you wanna be, he slides his hand up your thigh, fingertips twitching at the hem of your skirt. He watches you frown and glance down at his hand and then back up at the TV like you think you can ignore him. He pushes your skirt up an inch or so and bites back a smirk when you shift and squeeze your knees together, shooting an anxious glance in the direction of his brothers.
“Somethin’ wrong, baby?” he whispers. You answer with your eyes, give him this pleading look that makes him want to tear that dress off you right here, right now. “You’re alright. Watch the game.”
Reluctantly, you turn back to the TV with this blank expression on your face that tells him he has your full attention. He moves his hand between your legs and gives your waist a hard squeeze when you stiffen. When you glance at him again he treats you to an ice-cold smile.
This is a test, girl. Better hope you got a shot at passin'.
You’re bare beneath the dress ‘cause what would you need panties for, and he worms his hand between your thighs until his fingers find that soft, warm center of you. You jerk like a mare tryin’ to shake off a fly, but you don’t make a sound. He probes until his middle finger slips like silk into your slit almost up to the second knuckle and Jesus, girl, you’re so wet it makes his mouth water. This is why he never listens to you, because you don’t even know that you’re lying when you do it.
He eases his finger out of you and back in deeper, watches your lips part but no sound come out. He does it again and your lashes flutter like a doll’s. You’re sittin’ still as a statue for now but he’s gonna break you. Promise.
“You been so good, baby girl,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear. His thumb prods at your clit and you strangle the life out of a gasp as it tries to sneak into the room. “Wanna make sure you know how much I appreciate you behavin’ yourself.” He rubs that sweet spot in lazy circles and savors the way your back arches slow, so slow, tryin’ so hard to keep it a secret that he’s finger-fucking you ten feet from his family.
You think they don’t know, huh? You think they don’t see you’re nothin’ but a slut? Maybe you oughta think a little less.
You get that look on your face like you’re determined to take back control of yourself but you belong to him, girl, that body is his. When he pushes another finger into your pussy your toes curl on the arm of the chair and this little moan makes it out alive and both his brothers were raised huntin’ so they know what a creature in distress sounds like and all the sudden, you’re the Sunday evening special.
“Well looky here,” Les says, and wolf whistles.
Your eyes go wide and you cover your face with your hands and Bo can’t help it, he breaks into a grin. He thought he’d wrung all the shame right outta you by now, but apparently he thought wrong.
You peer over your fingers at him with tear-filled eyes and this time, you might just be cryin’ for real. You look so betrayed it makes him sick, makes him wish he could take it back just so he can do it to you again.
“’S alright, baby, they’re just lookin’,” he coos.
“We are most certainly lookin’,” Les agrees, and ordinarily Bo would smack him, but the way your lip quivers makes his dick twitch.
“Pretend they ain’t even here,” he says low in your ear. “Unless you like that sorta thing. You like bein’ watched, honey? You some kinda slut?”
He already knows the answer even if you don’t. He can tell by the way that sweet little cunt keeps spasin’ around his fingers like somethin’ dying. And you don’t deny it, just keep beggin’ him to stop with those big doe eyes. He don't gotta work hard to pull your focus back to that ache between your hips. All it takes is a little spit on his thumb, a little less friction on that poor swollen clit, and you’re melting in his hands.
“I’m just showin’ ‘em, baby,” he whispers. “Just makin’ sure they know you’re mine.”
He collects your wrists with his free hand and pulls them down to expose your face. You make a sound, some kinda protest, but you don’t fight him off like you used to. That girl’s been buried six feet deep inside you and you’re all that’s markin’ her grave.
“Hey Vince. Do me a favor?” Bo tosses his head towards the camera sitting on the coffee table where he left it, a brand-new roll of film ready and waitin’ inside. His twin snatches it up without question and puts his goddamn gift to good use.
You’re fightin’ it hard, makin’ him work for it, but he knows your body better than you do by now. When you cum, you try to hide it, bitin’ your lip and screwin’ up your face. But you can’t keep that pussy from grippin’ him tight, throbbin’ like your life depends on it. You squeeze his hand. A whine sneaks out of your throat and he catches it in his mouth, swallows it whole, savors it to the last.
You slump against his chest, let your head roll into the hollow of his shoulder because it's got nowhere else to go. You're soakin’ his shirt, soakin’ his hand. You're made of water, girl. Maybe that's why you make him so goddamn thirsty.
“Well she’s a delight,” Les says, slaps his thighs, stands up. “I'm gonna head home ‘n jerk off unless you gents need anything.”
He has the gall to reach for one of the Polaroids Vince is layin’ out on the coffee table like playing cards and Bo hisses through his teeth.
“Leave it. I ain't handin’ out souvenirs.”
Les rolls his eyes and slinks off like a stray mutt. Vincent looks for a second like he might make a case for himself, but thinks better of it and rightly so. He hands Bo the stack of photos and creeps back downstairs where he belongs and now it's just you and him and the TV static.
You're stiff as a board in his arms but you're clingin’ to his shirt with all you got so which is it, woman? He kisses your temple and starts shufflin’ through the pictures. Mama's favorite son ain't immune to the charms of the pornographic and most of them center on the view up your skirt, the curve of your ass, your juice shinin’ on his knuckles.
But there's one, just one, of your face lookin’ up at him. With these big, round eyes fixed on him and your hands cupped together in front of your chest. You look like you're prayin’, girl. Like you're worshiping him.
He licks his lips, looks down at you. You’re starin’ straight ahead into space, head on his chest, tits swellin’ against the bodice of that dress as you breathe deep in and out. He can tell you're searchin’ for the way back to that place you used to go, safe and warm without him.
You can't find it. It ain't there anymore. All you got is what you got.
“Can we go to bed?”
He’s surprised you’re speakin’ to him. Your voice is low and rough from the tears. You don't look at him until he tucks his finger beneath your chin and tilts your face up. There's somethin’ bright and broken in your eyes like glass.
“Please.”
He hates givin’ you what you want, doesn't want you gettin’ the wrong idea about who's in control here. He can't be spoilin’ you any more than he already has. But he prizes that look of relief and gratitude you give him when he's generous. That little furrow between your brows that melts away when he's good to you.
“Sure, baby.”
There it is. You slump against him beneath the force of your relief and fuck you for the way his hands move to hold you without him thinkin’ about it.
He don't carry you to bed. You're not a goddamn princess no matter what you might think of yourself. But you drop that dress that ain't yours to the floor and crawl naked into his sheets and when he climbs into bed beside you, you inch your way over ‘til you're pressed up against his ribs.
He can barely hear you breathin’. You're hardly even there. The old you would be rippin’ into his stomach, thrashin’ fit to snap your own spine. This new bitch, though, she’s manageable. Sweet, even.
Probably you don't mean for him to hear it but something like a sob sneaks out of you and it gives him butterflies. He rolls onto his side and slings his arm around you.
“Don't cry, now. You're alright.”
You shrink into him, make yourself small and bite-sized. You need him so bad and he knows it, figures you’re startin’ to figure it out too. What would you do without me, huh?
“Was I too mean, baby?” You choke on those tears and he bites his lip. “I'm sorry…you forgive me?”
You whimper, can't commit. It ain't your fault you're stuck tryin’ to make sense of it all, ‘specially with him feelin’ you up like he is. He can't keep a straight face, grinnin’ into the back of your neck. “I just got carried away, showin’ off my girl.” He pushes his hips against your ass. “You are my girl, right?”
A breath shudders through your body. You arch your back, don't even know you're doin’ it. He wraps his hand around your throat like a collar, nice and snug, squeezes just a little to get you back on course. “I asked you a question. You got an answer for me?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I'm your girl.”
Your voice breaks and whew, he's got blood rushin’ every which way. “Tell me you forgive me.”
You don’t respond. He tightens his grip just beneath your jaw, brings his lips to your ear.
“Fuckin’ answer me, huh?�� You forgive me? I gotta hear it, baby doll, or I’ll be up all night.”
His fingers dig into your flesh. He can feel you shaking like a leaf in the wind with fear or fury or something else he can put to use. He’s grindin’ against that ass, just about ready to flip you facedown and fuck the sense back into you, when you finally give him what he wants.
He always gets what he wants, baby. Haven’t you figured that out by now?
“I forgive you,” you rasp, and he loosens his grip and feels your tits press against his arm as you suck in air.
“Ain’t you sweet,” he says, and he presses a kiss to the side of your head, and when he rolls back an inch or two you scoot right along with him until your back is flush to his chest again, and that’s fuckin’ hilarious, huh? Just can’t get enough.
He lays in the dark and feels your breath on his knuckles, feels it hitch, feels it slow, feels it mellow out and go feather-soft, and before he knows it, he’s out like a light.
You wear him the fuck out, girl.
#lmaoooooo back in the fucking building again boys#i'd like to thank my glass of wine for giving me the courage to pursue my dreams#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#x reader#slasher x reader#bo sinclair fanfiction#house of wax fanfiction#don't worry i WILL be checking my follower count in the morning to see which of you are lame as hell
399 notes
·
View notes
Text
it's amazing how everything is simultaneously overexplained and underexplained. like why didn't they describe the underworld afterlife system? they just namedrop "asphodel" with some vague explanation (and why are they bald trees I'm sorry I could not take that seriously). no jury deciding where you go when you die...they don't introduce the fields of punishment...elysium...isles of the blest...THE RIVER OF STYX...yknow things that are referenced constantly throughout the series. and a fun aspect of the books is the way these elements of greek mythology are written into the modern world/using modern systems (like souls waiting in an EZ line). I always thought the merging of real world/mythological elements was pretty clever in pjo. like where's the fun where's the whimsy
#and I also didn't like the way the underworld looked#lame like everything else#why did it look like dune this was supposed to be HELL#like the hole to tartarus??? boring#I also feel like the readers' introduction the hierarchy/dynamics of the gods was well done#you don't get any of that in the show#pjo show crit#pjo tv#my post
536 notes
·
View notes
Text
also may or may not be still thinking about stridersprite. they calmed down after a sprite-splosion scare but did the next best thing and split internally. for various reasons that neither of them quite understand, bro is dave's age semi permanently
#d draws#hs.bro#hs.dove#ds does not know how to feel about this suddenly coming to the realization that bro like actually lame as hell. bro is struggling#its a combination of ds's understanding of him as a person and not this force of nature and the extreme stress his mind goes through#from not having lil cal around. ds seeing him as an equal and bro not being able to refute any of that because he KNOWS everything#its another thing about growing up isnt it. understanding your guardian as being just some guy. but SOMEone here hasnt actually grown up.
173 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rules: Do this picrew + attach the last song you listened to
My hair does not look this cool in real life but let me dream Also this is your sign to go listen to Mania.
Thanks for tagging me @cosmicmoonwhisperer, and thanks @jojotichakorn for tagging me again so I remembered lol
Tagging: @wangxianinventedromance @perfectlypeachbear @volcaniclily @friendly-jester @claratyler
@dr-lizortecho @contributingtothechaos @spcecowboyyy and anyone who wants!!
#tag game#it being a fob song is the least surprising thing ever really. Number 1 fan of mania forever and ever thanks#the band aid is in honor of the sheer amount of wounds I've gotten this past few weeks fucking hell#My hair is like the lame version of this
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
i love it when artists draw etho so cunty because you KNOW that man dresses like a loser. yassify that canadian NOW
#am i talked about etho the cubito or etho the person? dealers choice ig#i know in my heart of hearts. that man is lame as hell.#etho#mcyt#ethoslab
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
janus: hey buddy, i know you broke my wine bottle, but if you apologize i'll totally forgive you. i'll even hug you or whatever feelsy nonsense patton espouses.
remus: pfft yeah okay my bad, c'mere *hugs him*
janus: *adds his other arms to the hug*
remus: oh, this was a trick, wasn't it
his ribs: *start creaking*
remus: yep, i'm fucked.
#rip remus he probably thought janus was trying to ask for a hug without being lame#dw he'll be fine. hell he's put himself in worse situations#haha snake constriction joke (ik the snake he's based on isn't a constrictor but eh)#janus sanders#remus sanders#sanders sides
105 notes
·
View notes
Text
jax stop touching her balls
#my art#digital art#art#fanart#artists on tumblr#drawing#illustration#sketch#repost yes#the amazing digital circus#tadc#pomni#jax#ragatha#gangle#kinger#forget the first one btw#lame as hell
359 notes
·
View notes
Text
Late night sketch tests on procreate, just got it today
Rennala bc I think she’s neat
#rennala of the full moon#elden ring rennala#elden ring#elden ring shitpost#oh to wish to be consort of the very tall moon lady#uhh procreate base brushes are kinda lame#i know there’s custom brushes somewhere tho#also Apple UI is hell omg
652 notes
·
View notes