#but their honestly pretty flexible

[whoruntheworld-lesbians]

One of my favorite parts of eah is that there is so much ship potential. Literally everywhere. You throw two names together, I'll have a list of headcanons on your desk by Monday.

[larabar]

girl help i can't draw sonic :(

ill try my best to help !

not a full-body because that would take ages but! these are my thoughts. hope you can get something out of it ?

[puppppppppy]

i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand

[ilikebigshipsandicannotlie]

Virgil, we at Team Green are very concerned that it might not always be wise to wear a not-tight suit.

Surely for space purposes a tight suit would be better?

Team Green sounds like a wonderful organisation. Are you encouraging environmentally friendly policies? 💚

It is a good point. Although my suit can go into space, it's not space optimal. It's optimised for my main role of heavy lifting and manual work, and yoga like outfits just don't work for that.

[romanceyourdemons]

it’s great when characters have folding fans as part of their design because you don’t have to draw all of their face if you don’t want to

[mistythedritten]

On the ABO Dream stuff

Dream is an Omega, 100%.

But he chose to be an omega, because he didn’t like being an Alpha, it didn’t fit him, so he transitioned to an Omega.

Basically, man’s is trans.

[orcelito]

hey since i have access to all my phone's photos much more easily, check out my old violin

got it from my great uncle, who said it belonged to His grandpa. so we r looking at like 4 generations up here. he gave it to me in 2010 ish bc im the only person in the family that plays violin lol. & being in middle school, i named it Star :')

it still plays well, too! not my default for when i play bc i use my newer violin for that. but i still value her greatly

[sysig]

Those quick-jumps out of prison leave something to be desired... (P1 | P2 | P3) (Patreon)

[erabundus]

❝  is  this  simple  door  really  giving  you  that  much  trouble?  or  are  you  just  terrible  at  picking  locks?  ❞  ren  doesn't  know,  and  he  doesn't  particularly  care.  his  patience  is  WANING  in  any  case  —  and  it's  clear  from  the  tight  grit  of  his  jaw,  to  the  way  fingers  dig  increasingly  harsh  into  his  biceps.  there  is  DISAPPOINTMENT  etched  in  every  inch  of  that  doll-like  face.  ❝  i  could  get  it  open  for  you.  ❞  the  wanderer  offers  after  a  moment.   ❝  although,  i  can't  promise  you'll  agree  with  my  METHODS ...  ❞

@drolliic &&. liked for a SMALL STARTER.

[gailynovelry]

Progress on the Shadow Herald epub; restored!

[fingertipsmp3]

Also I got a job interview and I’m really in two minds about it

[caeca-iustitia]

Vincent wasn’t entirely sure what kind of weapon they would settle on when they joined the Turks. 

On one hand, they had plenty of experience with guns and were widely considered the best shot in the company.

On the other, however, they felt as if guns would be too predictable. 

In the end, they settled on wielding a scythe with as much deadly precision as one would expect from someone like Vincent. Their lithe build and incredible flexibility allowed them to fully utilise their chosen weapon in a hand-to-hand combat scenario.

This simple choice meant that a lot of the older, more experienced Turks had to get used to a completely new moveset when sparring. Low sweeps, powerful swings, underhanded tactics and a brutal downward strike that cleaved people in half like a hot knife through butter. 

So impactful on the combat sphere of ShinRa was Vincent that they had an entire simulation added to the VR Combat Simulator based solely around their swift, powerful strikes with the scythe they had affectionately named ‘Agdayne’. Their combat simulation has had few true victors and many have been worn down by the seemingly endless stamina of the hologram.

This scythe was often used in combination with Vincent’s incredibly acrobatic skills, their shadow-walking abilities and their Limit Break to create a potent cocktail of sharply bladed death.

Yet, they continued to throw everything into imbalance by wielding their scythe and a pistol in tandem to truly make a combat style that was purely and simply just inescapable death. They weren’t satisfied until the chaos they caused with their fighting style made even Verdot, their Turk partner and best friend, weep with despair at needing to spar with them.

Their favourite move to pull was allowing an enemy to think they had the upper hand before slamming the end of the handle into their opponent's neck, winding and/or choking them, before either dropping them with a vicious kick to the head or using the blade of their scythe to separate their head from their shoulders.

In more modern times, Vincent primarily uses guns and their powerful hand-to-hand combat skills in combination with their monster's abilities. 

However, they have recently discovered that their shadows can be manipulated into any weapon they wish and their basic instinct was to return to their favoured weapon of a scythe. This one, dubbed ‘Great Finale’ was sharper than ‘Agdayne’ ever was and would never dull. It allows Vincent to use their advanced mobility to chain attacks together in infinitely more confusing and complex combinations.

[ambersky0319]

Yknow I'm looking at my schedule for my fall semester and like

I could just be expecting too much from myself

But

I really do think I can handle 1-2 part time jobs (or internships) on top of this

Like

M-Th I'd be on campus generally from 9am (realistically 8am bc of transit) to 4pm, but Monday/Wednesday I have literally 5 hours between my two classes - so with an Uber I could probably do a short shift somewhere those days

On Fridays I have just 1 class at 3pm

And I'm perfectly happy to work over the weekend

[screambirdscreaming]

Something that peeves me whenever I see another post going around with some variation on "autistic people take things literally which means we are the only people who communicate Clearly and Directly" is that - for any given statement, there is not one singular, agreed on, universal Literal Interpretation. If there was, none of this would be a problem!

The nature of language is that there's always some degree of interpretability. Words have several different meanings, often overlapping, and there's nuance of context, cultural references, and so on.

Faced with a statement, most people will quickly come up with an interpretation that to them makes the most sense. But if you asked a roomful of people to explain in detail their interpretations, everyone's would probably be a little different, even for a pretty simple statement. Regardless of whether those people are autistic! Everyone conceptualizes the world a little differently, and everyone has a unique personal history of all the language they've encountered, and these things effect our interpretations.

In order for communication to be workable, given this slosh in interpretability, there's another couple of processes that go on. As conversation goes on, people reassess if their initial interpretation matches up with additional context. If it doesn't, they revise it, or ask clarifying questions. And on the flipside of this process, the other person in conversation is tracking if your reactions make sense with *their* understanding of what they're trying to convey to you, and offering context or rephrasing things if it seems you're out of alignment.

These processes are social skillsets that are, like most social skillsets, not ever directly articulated or explained. Many people are bad at one or both. Sometimes you encounter someone who is really, notably good at it - the vaunted "good listener", who puts in the effort to really understand what you're trying to say, or that really excellent teacher who engages with you back and forth until you really get it. But a lot of the time, it's a sort of passive social friction - people just not getting each other.

Sometimes, you encounter someone whose brain works so much like yours that talking to them feels almost effortless - you just get each other. But that's a pretty rare occurrence for anyone. More often, as you get to know someone, you start to understand the shape of the way they interpret things and learn to account for it, so over time it's easier to make sense to each other.

It's honestly not uncommon in society for people to aggregate in groups of people who interpret things similarly, and who are thus easier to talk to, rather than actually building the skills of communicating across interpretation gaps. Particularly egregious are those groups of men who talk about Women as an incomprehensible monolith, but it turns up to a greater or lesser degree on a lot of levels.

I suspect this is the root of a lot of parenting problems - people who have never built this communication skillset, and relied on choosing friends who make sense to them without a lot of effort, and who are then totally unprepared to interact with a child who interprets things in ways they don't expect.

Obviously I can't speak to The Universal Typical Experience, not least because it doesn't exist. But in general I would posit that:

Most people, give or take a few assholes, are not trying to say things that are confusing. Most people think they are communicating clearly, because the first interpretation *they* would come up with on hearing one of their own sentences is the correct interpretation.

Many people are not very good at accounting for different ways people could interpret things they're saying. However, it is normal and polite social behavior to be somewhat flexible about this and forgiving of misunderstandings. If people are being shitty to you about not understanding them, they are assholes. And I wouldn't assume that the rest of the communication they have with everyone else they know goes totally smoothly for them.

I suspect there is a bit of an unfortunate feedback loop, where people have bad experiences when someone gets mad at them for not getting something, and learn to hide when they're confused. Which then leads to larger, more complicated misunderstandings, which other different people get upset at them about, because those people think they should have asked for clarification in the first place.

Truly you can't win with everyone. No one can win with everyone. There is no monolith of "neurotypical communication" which resolves all these contradictions - all those people you're lumping in together under "neurotypical" have just as much trouble with each other.

[chikaras-garden]

Hi petal! May I request Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne dick headcanons? Like, size and width kinda thing? Thank you!

Sweet Jesus. Yes. Goodness. Oh my god.

DICK GRAYSON 💦

Not the longest. Not the girthiest. A pretty pink head that demands kisses. But the curve of his dick helps him reach places inside you that no one else could ever dream of. This is a cock that finds every spot that makes you squirm and scream—and then invents new ones, just to be sure no man has ever made you feel as good as he does. 

He uses his whole body to fuck you. Hands cupping your cheeks, forehead against yours, breath fanning over your lips in between kisses. When he’s inside you, you’re two halves of one whole, and the point where your body ends and his begins may as well not exist. He’s so agile, so flexible; he’ll work as hard as is necessary to find every position that has you coming undone all over his cock.

Loves to stay inside you. He came so much, so hard, so fast—so he’ll just plug you up, you know? You don’t mind, right? He’ll be so impossibly gentle about it, too; laying on top of you, weight on his knees so he doesn’t hurt you, peppering little kisses up and down your face until his cock softens and slips right out.

DAMIAN WAYNE 💦

A cock so perfect that they should be making dildos based off of him. Very long. Very thick. Tanned and super veiny. Honestly, the worst part is that he knows this because he’s heard it a billion times. Praise does nothing to him after hearing so many people say he feels so good, that he splits them open just right—but the look on your face when he thrusts hard, fast, and deep until your eyes roll back in your head? 

That has him feeling something he’s never felt before. He’s buried to the hilt inside you, you feel him all the way up to your lungs, and you reach down to grab his wrist and hold him right where he is. When your fingers wrap around him, he groans, seeing stars of his own. You reach around his hips and press your hands into his ass to pull him even deeper, and he starts forcing himself into breathing exercises to stop himself from coming right there.

Prefers you to come first. Also prefers when you have the time for both of you to come multiple times. He has a thing for coming on your tits first, and he’d love to come on your face if you’re into that, but sex isn’t finished until he fills you, duh.

@uc1wa I wasn't kidding

[lomlhwa]

navillera (x.mh)

pairing: ballerina!reader x ballet teacher!minghao

preview: minghao can see your raw potential. you just need a little... incentive.

tags/warnings: fem reader, age gap (minghao is 35 and reader is 21), lots of flexible positions, kinda mean dom minghao, sir kink, fingering, oral (fem.receiving), degrading, monster cock minghao, dacryphilia, choking, marking, praise, pet names (slut, baby, pretty girl), unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.6k

song rec for this fic: all i got by baekhyun

a/n: sorry for scarce posting mls

training for the nutcracker has been more difficult than you had anticipated. your teacher has been so hard on everyone. his perfectionism was definitely showing. the constant cries of “straighten your leg!” or “point your toes!” have been ingrained in your brain. you’ve honestly become paranoid about messing up in front of him. currently, you’re just trying to perfect small things near the end of the show.

you and your dance partner dance carefully together, making sure your legs are straight and there’s not a flat foot in sight. your spun around and lifted effortlessly and you can almost feel a sense of pride filling your bones. but, as you’re put down, the hard box of your ballet slippers lands right on your dance partner’s foot, causing him to cry out.

suddenly, minghao cuts the music off and gestures for everyone to gather around him. “we have our first show next week, i cannot have this show looking this dogshit. we haven’t had a single run that didn’t have a mistake.” everyone around you looks defeated at his words. not a soul in the room isn’t out of breath from his vigorous training demands. “y/n.” he says your name and your eyes dart up to meet his. “do you even know how to do a pas de bourrée?” you gulp, looking down at the floor. “yes, i do, sir.” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “show me.” 

you hesitantly walk to the open space in front of him and get up en pointe. you perform the travelling movement, making sure to keep your legs straight and keep your body lines looking flowy. when you finish, you look over to see the most intimidating scowl on your teacher’s face. “i’m gonna need you to stay after class.” your face flushes bright red as you rush to disappear within the crowd of your classmates. 

the rest of the class is a blur. you can’t focus after your teacher embarrassed you like that in front of the whole class. finally, the class ends and you watch as your classmates rush to leave the studio. you and minghao stand on opposite sides of the room, staring at each other. “how long have you been doing ballet?” he asks, stretching arms over his chest. “um, 4 years.” he laughs, wandering over to you. “that’s like nothing compared to your classmates.” he looms over you, his shadow filling you with darkness.

“show me your pirouette.” he moves away from you, gesturing to the empty room. you lift yourself onto your toes and demonstrate a few spins, more than necessary. you stumble at the end and you can feel minghao’s blazing fury. “come here. put your hand on the bar.” you scurry over and do as instructed, your hand resting gently on the wooden bar attached to the wall. he leans down and grabs your ankle. he lifts it until your foot is above your head, your legs spread in a perfect split. “you’re very flexible and your moves are graceful, you just can’t follow through.” he runs his hand down your leg, his hand pausing to rest on your core. you jump, your legs fighting to hold their position.

minghao presses his palm against your core, electricity surging through your veins. you moan slightly before pressing your lips together in a thin line. he runs his finger over your slit through your tights. the thin fabric gives way to how wet you’re becoming at simple touches. “are these your performance tights?” minghao whispers. you shake your head, your legs beginning to ache. suddenly, the sound of fabric ripping fills the room. you gasp at the sudden cold feeling. your knee bends, your leg begging to be let back onto the floor. “keep your fucking leg up while i please you.” he demands as he pushes your panties to the side. 

you use your free hand to hold your foot, desperately trying to keep your leg up. minghao licks a wet stripe up your core, salivating at how wet you’d become. you shiver as he licks stripe after stripe up your cunt, savoring your taste as if he’d never tasted something so delicious. “if you can be a good girl and keep your leg up, i’ll let you cum,” he instructed. he dove into your core like he may never eat again. the sideways angle having him gripping every expanse of your ass and thighs he could get at. he rips your tights open more so he can feel your bare skin in his hands. 

his tongue jabs at your hole, barely dipping in to feel your dripping walls. his eyes roll back into his head at the way your body jerks whenever he sucks on your clit. your grip the bar on the wall so hard your knuckles turn white. your legs shake as they threaten to close against your will. “p-please sir,” you beg. you don’t even really know what you’re begging for at this point. his fingers find their way to your hole, replacing his tongue. he fingers you with such intensity that you’re worried he might break his hand. your whines and whimpers grow in volume quickly.

he chuckles against you, beginning to eat you with even more intensity. his fingers and his tongue move in sweet tandem. you start to piece together that he doesn’t intend to let you cum, he wants you to let your leg down. your whole body trembles as he licks and sucks on your wet heat until finally; your leg comes down. you stumble backwards and your ballet teacher looks at you with a sinister grin. “so sad, the poor baby doesn’t get to cum on my tongue.“

you look at him, defeated. your legs are so sore you can barely stay standing. minghao seemingly glides over to you before hooking his foot around you to force your knees to bend. you fall backwards and he lays you down on the floor. “can barely follow dance moves, let alone instructions while i’m eating you out. what a disobedient slut.” you whine, writing around on the cold dance practice floor. he slots himself between your legs, pressing his growing erection against your core. your cunt leaves a wet spot on his light colored tights. 

he looks down between your legs and sighs dramatically. “look at the fucking stain you’re leaving on my tights. so fucking pathetic,” he spreads your legs into a split again, grinding against your exposed core. your hands find their way to his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. “you’re so flexible and yet you can’t keep your legs straight when dancing. you’d think with a split like this, it would be effortless to you. do you use your split for sex more than dancing? is that it?” you whine at his disapproval. 

he separates from you to pull his tights down, a much more gentle gesture than the way he had torn yours open. your eyes widen, watching as he frees his cock. he catches your feverish eyes with his sinister ones. “you think you can take it, baby?” you shake your head slowly and he fakes a look of pity. “you can, and you’re going to.” he takes his place between your legs once again, his cock dragging against your slit. “hold your legs open.” you hook your hands around your thighs, doing your best to stay spread.

he guides himself into your desperate hole, the sting of the stretch filling your senses. your nails dig into the skin of the back of your thighs as you shake underneath minghao. he finally bottoms out and his jaw falls slack. he places his palms by your head, trapping you between his arms. he holds eye contact with you as he draws his hips back before thrusting back in slowly. you savor the feeling of every inch dragging along your walls. 

your forearms begin to ache from holding your legs open, your grip slipping. minghao rises to his knees and swats your hands away from your thighs. he replaces them with his own, folding you in half. his thrusts pick up in speed, drilling you full of his cock. “such a good fucking girl, taking my cock. you like when your teacher fills you up, huh?” you nod, your brain not even computing what he’s saying. “words, slut.” you pant desperately, trying to even muster a few words. “y-yes, sir.”

he lands a couple hard slaps to the soft skin of your thighs, leaving bright red hand print marks. you squeal, clenching around him. your senses go into overdrive when he wraps one hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure for your vision to go slightly fuzzy. tears spring to your eyes and flow down the side of your face. he stops holding you down and moves his other hand to your clit, rubbing over it quickly. “fuck, i’m so close, pretty girl. want you to cum for me, can you do that?” you nod to the best of your abilities and he smiles. 

your body spasms as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. you wrap both your hands around his wrist as he tightens his grip just a little more. “c-cumming,” you choke out. minghao lets out an animalistic groan as you clamp down on him. you wrap your legs around him to lock him into place, his last couple thrusts chasing his own orgasm. his hips stutter as his cum fills you to the brim, leaking out of you and onto the floor. he finally releases your throat and you suck in a few labored breaths. 

he pulls out of you and admires your spent body on the floor. “god, i think we should have more after class practices. do you agree?” you’re too tired to even respond but the way you shiver tells him everything he needs to know. he chuckles before reclothing himself. “there’s a pair of extra leggings in the closet. you might wanna put those on before you leave.” he grabs all of his things and walks away to the door. “see you tomorrow, y/n.”

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