#granted i didnt look HARD

[slaingelo]

timelapse :3 i SWEAR this is inspired by a type of yuri art i see a lot that i SWORE was used on manga covers but i couldnt find any examples

[altruistic-meme]

sometimes new things are good, and sometimes it's better to just stick with the oldies but goodies

[cator99]

out of curiosity, would you consider yourself butch?

used to be a blonde underweight twink and now I'm a based jock still got the chanel bag and the sick albeit matured mind of a suckpig to prove it so I'm gonna let you decide whether you wanna call me that word just cuz I got a pussy and short hair. I promise you that there have been enough advancements made in the art of lesbian sexual dynamics in the past 50 years to broaden the vocabulary used to describe the plethora of types of masculine females.

[rebornofstars]

i mean personally i find the appeal of batfam comes from the unbelievable tragic fucked up dumpster fire of interpersonal dynamics between every single character. i keep seeing the accepted fanon shove them into neat little boxes of brother and son and father and sister and like you aren't wrong but when are you going to mention the fact that this is simply how they choose to refer to each other in front of strangers to prevent themselves from having to try to explain the infinitely messy impossible gordian knot that is their relationships to each other. because you just know whatever the fuck is happening between those little weirdos aint right. big happy found family? they're stuck together against their will for life, yeah, and none of them would know how to feel a thing without the terrible ecstasy and adrenaline of what they share, and it's some kind of family, sure, but it's a monstrously complicated one, and not the kind of thing you can just explain. or leave. or understand. even when you're right in the thick of it. i like to think that they each have a wildly different take on what they mean to each other, and none of them are wrong but all of them are missing some key facet of it, and only the characters directly involved in each combination have the whole story. that's how twisted things get: nobody understands how damian and jason manage to continuously interact without hard feelings. nobody gets why steph and alfred talk when they don't even get along. nobody knows what the fuck is wrong with dick and bruce!!!!!

[brains-out-rn]

I don't like debating much(unless necessary for the sake of my own humanity) but sometimes it can be really Really fun specifically if it's about something that has absolutely no real weight to it(and yet if you were a spectator it might cause some concern for whatever reason)

for example: would you rather be threatened(physically mentally or emotionally take your pick) by a can of corn or a cob of corn?

Me personally I'd pick cob for a few reasons

1. I can outlast it(probably)

Fresh corn will eventually rot and decay but have you seen how long canned stuff can last unopened before it looks slightly different from new stuff??

2. Cans are made of metal not vegetable flesh

While a corn cob has its core that's not metal. Ever dropped a can? Might get a dent. If you have a good kick then you might survive but you will probably hurt your foot. Ever dropped corn? If it had it outer leaves and hair it might have stood a chance but if it didn't then bits of corn go everywhere

3. Actually fighting if needed

I feel like I could survive a fight with a sentient can but a sentient cob just seems less likely to hurt

However there are some things might change my decision

Like issue one which is how the corn moves because if the cob is fresh with hair and leaves and can move all the little hairs individually and can move the leaves then I'd probably choose the can because at that point I feel like it's less of "how would i survive with the least amount of bruising" and more of "how would I rather die but with a chance of surviving" and in my opinion i think blunt force trauma would be better then a slow death of strangulation via a sentient corns hair plus I do think I'd have a chance against a can of corn

Another issue is if it was mentally or emotionally I'd probably go with the can bc I feel like it would be easier for to rationalize it as ridiculous to be threatened by a can of corn then a cob for some reason

Like a cob is ridiculous to the point that I'd just accept it as making sense for that to happen?

a can is like "why am I listening to the can of corn. I literally own a can opener." But a cob is more like "if I were to try and deal with you in the traditional way of dealing with corn that would mean a pot and water and time and-"

Plus idk why but I feel like a cob would be less mean with its words. I can't explain it I just think cob would just go straight to physical threats instead of emotional ones but a can would stare at you menacingly making you question yourself and just judging you

[lesbiansurge]

30 dollar kit offer....... thats the value of 3 old brawl passes for a week of meager rewards...............

[spiceberrie]

POST-RAW, Connor McDavid (05.14.23) — GAME 6, VEGAS @ EDM

“It feels like every team that wins and goes on a stretch of winning experiences this. It’s not what you want to do. It’s not what you want to feel,” McDavid said. “That being said, I really feel that we’ve got to go through some of this to win.

“Let’s hope it’s the last time.”

[wanderingibon]

oughhh if i could be a lil personal right now one of the main things i struggle with w my cptsd aside w how bad my dissociation/nightmares/etc can be is the feeling that i'm always running out of time. it really sucks mannn 😭i'm shaking myself by the shoulders. can we please chill.

but i'm trying to be kinder to myself. i think i'll draw something fun later

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

Smth I think about sometimes is how like, I do so much stuff to overcompensate my struggles with various things, but generally I don’t acknowledge that I’m doing outside things to overcompensate or if I do I don’t get into specifics.

And then because of that like even if I tell people I’m struggling with x thing they just won’t believe me sometimes coz they didn’t see/listen to me doing work on my own time.

Even if I’m already underperforming they won’t understand how much effort it was taking JUST TO UNDERPERFORM.

But then if I make any progress or aren’t the literal worst it’s all swept under the rug as if it’s easy for me and I just wasn’t working hard enough the whole time or something?

[dinsfire24]

by the way, just so you know @/finneander is a proshipper, lolicon and transmed (among others). saying this since you reblogged some of his art!

i kinda didnt wanna reply to this since i was worried people would go harass him, but my followers are cool. anyways

???????????

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Rip Trickster returning theories, guys, because that is definitely not the Trickster:

[sirompp]

how do i access muy fucking drafts with the new ui updates.the button is just not there

[g-k444]

take me from the streets - blindfold over eyes, chloroform over mouth and drag my limp body away

and then have me wake up. inside what looks like a box - my top removed, chest exposed with tits free and nipples hard from the cold air - back against the uncomfortable wooden planks, and bottom half seemingly freely stuck out of the bottom.

my legs are suddenly grabbed, thighs pushed against the outside wall of the box with a rough grip - making me realise that my bottom half is also unclothed - which im only further forced to understand as i feel pain shooting through my lower body - a cry leaving my throat

a grunt is heard outside of this box as the cock that penetrated my pussy withdrew before hammering itself back into my pussy with enough force to shatter not only my entire spine, but also the seemingly fragile box i was stuck in

as the cock withdrew once more, I fought to get away - wiggling my hips with the little manoeuvre space the hole at the end of the box gave me - trying to claw myself up and away from the cock that bruised by pussy

yet my attempt was feeble, as my legs still stuck out from the bottom of the box even with my pussy out of reach - and my escape was cut short as those two hands gripped my thighs harder - pulling my body down and my pussy into view once more

the hands wrenched my legs open and held me in place, lining up their cock once more before snapping their hips up to force it into my hole, making a scream rip from my throat which only seemed to spur the fury that the man fucked me with

my arms flailed, eyes ravenously searching around the box to look for any structural weaknesses or flaws that could grant me a way out from this gloryhole of a place

yet the air that was once cold in the box turned hot with my vigour, and i could feel the heat of my body also translating something far more embarrassing; i was going to orgasm from the feeling of being forcefully fucked by someone i didnt know and couldnt see and didnt even want

tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as my motions grew weaker, the feeling at my pussy consuming me more and more until i felt my hole clenching and tightening around the cock that reached its finish at the same time as me - being milked for every drop by my contracting walls which only felt warmer as the white seed coated them

yet that heat that had consumed me as their cock had fucked me only got a moment to cool for a moment, as one cock was withdrawn... yet my hole was unexpectedly breached once more - not even after a minute - and the heat began building again

gasps, cries, screams were ripped from my throat as from that cock it only went to the next - and my skin grew hot and bothered with the lack of stimulation that made my pussy sore from the continuous orgasm it felt as though i were unwillingly facing

and after what could've been just half an hour, or a whole day - those noises became completely silenced as i accepted my fate. let myself get fucked into without my will, and filled with seed that i could feel dripping down my thighs and legs.

i probably looked like a whore from the outside - a hole coated with white sperm which dripped over my skin - and yet nobody seemed to care - as the cocks didnt stop fucking my hole

[jenoslutie]

hot tub lovin' l y.jh

nsfw mdni. 18+

pairing: bf!jeonghan x f!reader

warnings: public sex, hot tub sex, no fear of being caught lol.., riding, begging, choking, praising, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n: this is the result of the influence of these pics as well as my beautiful wife @hanniesbrat 🩷

You and Jeonghan are finally on a well deserved vacation, finally winding down after days upon days of stress and exhaustion. you’d spent the whole day out and exploring the city with the love of your life. going to all the famous tourist spots where jeonghan forced you to pose for pictures because you ‘look so pretty’ and all the pretty cafés where you both tried an array of pastries that you’d never tried before. your day went amazing, you’d say. but it was finally time to relax after a day full of exploring and walking. 

It's 9pm and you’re both heading out to the indoor pool at your hotel. it seemed as if everyone was asleep, you hadn’t seen a single person since you got back and granted the pool closed at 10pm, you were sure no one else was gonna come in anyways. 

“You’re gorgeous, baby” Jeonghan breathed out, lowering himself into the hot tub slowly, eyes on you, clad in a bikini that did little to hide anything. 

“You’re not too bad yourself” Your smile was big watching your boyfriend scoot closer to you and throw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “Thank you for today, Jeonghan” Truthfully, this vacation wouldn’t have happened without Jeonghan, if he didn’t plan everything out and surprise you with it, you don’t think you'd go on a vacation until way later. 

“Anything for you my baby” He smiled down at you, leaning down to kiss you. His lips were soft, like always, they always felt so perfect on your own lips. Like they were made to kiss you. Your hand trailed over his bare chest, trailing further down all the way until you could palm his cock through his swim trunks. “Anything?” A hopeful glint in your eyes, a low groan escaped his lips. “You know I’d do anything for you,” 

“Then, can you fuck me here?” You batted you eyelashes at him, pouting to the best of your ability. 

“You’ll have to work for it then, get on top of me?” With no hesitation, you climbed into his lap, moving to grind on his semi hard cock. “Jeonghan,” You breathed grinding down on him with more pressure this time “‘M so wet, can i put it in, please?” He replied a ‘yes’, his tone mirroring yours. Raising your hips up to give him enough room to pull his swim trunks down, enough to pull his cock out while you made quick work in removing your bikini bottoms, only slipping it off one leg. Climbing back onto his lap, guiding the head of his cock to nestle between your folds before sinking down on his cock slowly. The both of you moaned loud, the feeling of his cock filling you up made you feel giddy in a way, “You’re so big,” A genuine smile adorning your face when he finally bottomed out in you. Jeonghan only managed to moan out in return, trying his best to keep his noises at bay. You on the other hand, the more you bounced on his cock, the louder you were moaning, with no care in the world to who could walk in or walk by. 

“God, you’re so fucking loud. Do you know that? Do you really want everyone to know how slutty you are?” That only made you moan louder, throwing your head back as you tried your best to keep riding him despite the difficulty caused by the water. 

“Don’t care– your cock feels so fucking good” Jeonghan knew there was no point of trying to get you to quiet down, he didnt even want to. Truthfully he didn't even care if you got caught, as long as his baby’s happy, so is he. So instead of telling you to quiet down, he brought his hand, previously resting on your hip, down to rub circles on your clit–your weakness, and he knew it. 

He couldn't help giving in as well, moaning out loud himself when he felt you squeeze him impossibly tight. “You’re going to cum aren’t you?” Jeonghan mused. He didnt need you to tell him you were close, he could tell. From the way your movements became more laboured than before, to the way you got louder and then finally, when you started grinding down on him. “I need to, Jeonghan, I need to cum.” his hands wrapped around your throat, his fingers tightened around your throat but it didn’t even matter, you found yourself silently screaming Jeonghan’s name as you rolled your hips down on Jeonghan’s cock, feeling your walls spasm as you came around him. As soon as your post orgasm state wore off, you pushed yourself to start riding him again, “Please cum Jeonghan, please fill me up. I need to feel your cum inside me, I want it so much.” It only takes a few more thrusts for him to bring his hands back to your hips and press you down, burying himself deep inside your cunt and releasing his hot load inside you. Thick spurts of cum fill you up as he moans your name like you're the only people around. Jeonghan fucks his cum deeper inside you. Holding you close, like you’d slip away if he hadn’t. 

“God, I needed this so bad.” 

[cosmique-oddity]

Phew, my last weeks of work are now complete >:)

I loved Dratchet and Ratchlock since the very beginning of my attachment towards Transformers, first TFP Ratchet…..but yeah….two of my favorites character….plus Keferon’s Mech AU…..I had to make my own thing about it.

A story….no…an illustration ! I couldn’t choose. So I did both :}

—————————————————

That was not the first time Ratchet came back to his private lab angry, but this time, yelling at his superiors, and at the system, and basically at evverything that could be yelled at except the pilotd while leaving the manufacture, was certainly the last. He quit. That was enough,

you don’t win a war with feelings they said

well yes,

exactly,

but you win a war with soldier, and frying their mind before they have their first fight because you want them to be more perfectionned ? That was a little counter productive.

So he gave up. They are on their own now.

The lightly humming of his car was barely enough to keep him awake, it have been a long time since he last returned home, usually, he stayed at his work place, to have more time to sleep, but then, he was sleeping even less. An endless vicious circle, things were often like that.

But all of that was over for him.

He granted these young greenhorn with his experience, and what did they do ? Ignored his advices. Sending pilots to death. So now, he had himself out of the infernal machinery. This mindless waste of human life, even where this is what they tried to save was absurd.

In the middle of his quiet and late ride, he heard a noise. Rumbling, was it the engine ? As he stopped the car backroad to check, the noise wasnt stopping. Came from the sky, military patrol ? He raised his two tired eyes on the sky and saw a shining rail approaching his forest, falling fast. Not quintesson shaped, and with the gaze of an experimented biomechanist, Ratchet identified a mech.

At this moment, its violently crashed on the ground, behind the trees at maybe three or four miles away. No matter how hard he argued with the scientist sooner this day or how bad he wanted to say fuck to all of this death industry who killed young soldiers, he could do something for the one trapped inside the mech....maybe.... the man regained his car as fast as possible and urgently headed for the crash area.

Deafened sound of tires on the damaged road. Ratchet was already projecting, mentally stocktaking the tools he took with him, and lucky enough for the poor pilot, he quit with almost all of his material, and even if it was mainly mechs repairing material, he also bought some instruments which were used for the subtle neuromedicine between human and mech. Could adapt some of it and stabilize the pilot....then he may have the time to go home and grab proper materials. If there was life there was hope.

" bold of him to crash himself just the day i insulted all of his hierachy".

He frowned. Almost there.

The trees nearby were crushed and uprooted. A flickering pink light catched his gaze.

Almost immediately, the Ratchet analyzed the mech. It was different. He didnt know in wich country it was made but that almost looks alien. The curves and shapes, busted and burned on several places were demonstrating an incredible display of genius ingeniery he could just admiring. But time was not for being amazed on plating.

Someone was trapped there.

He stopped and parked his car in front of a fallen tree, rushing to the car's trunk, taking few indispensable objets, including some of them to help a safe disconnection between pilot/mech. In case he wasnt out already. And a crowbar, the cockpit might be stuck, seeing all the damages the mech has taken...

The sound of slightly wet grass under his feet was covered by a frenetic noise of aeration. Ratchet listened to it, while cautiously approaching the unknown mech. It almost sounded like a breath, but was certainly a depressurisation issue. The mech had fallen from so high on the sky....

The damaged plating were hot, probably from atmosphere friction. He raised his crowbar and his eyes followed the curves of the chestplates, searching for a familiar shape, that could lead him to the injured pilot inside. His gaze stopped on a deep wound, that might have cut through the cockpit.

The engineer stepped on the hot metal, his thick boots preventing him from feeling the heat, and he started searching for a hint....anything that could be a mechanism, anything that could open this damn mech !

Ratchet considered the damaged chest plate he noticed earlier. The surroundings of the wound were leaking bright pink, a very unusual color for fuel. Another of these definitively strange things about the mech. Again....not the time for that. Maybe if he could widen the gap, then he would be able to have an idea of what was going on under this armor.

He tapped the plate, -it was starting to cool down- with one of his finger. It was a very little tap, but the whole mech startled. A hiss of pain, recognisible easily by an emerite engineer-but-i-fix-people-too, it had come from the head of the mecha. Was this modele controlled from the head, like Vortex ? But Vortex was insanely huge for a mech, way taller than this one. He moved careful, noticing the shaking of his support.

"You hear me, kid ? Its going to be ok. You crashed in a safe area.".

He spoke in his medic tone, wich mean, of course brusque, serious, but also reassuring and calm.

He mumbled about the mech's features and tiny words of comfort while reaching for the head.

A red light, not regular and rather epileptic was coming from the head, and while he was almost there, on all four of his limb to keep balance, Ratchet saw it.

A spectacularly humanoid face, with sculpted nose and lips was tensed in a painful expression, frowning, but the thing who trapped his gaze was the two optics....

....staring back at him.

Mechs dont stare. Their eyes are glowing, oftenly to mimick human face, after all, human are pretty prideful creature, no point in piloting big ass metal titan if no one could tell these where their creation.

What human couldnt mimick with technologie, on the other hand, was the subtle expression between trying to evualuate a threat, his own injuries, and looking rather on the verge of death but also ready to tear any enemy's limb appart with its teeth.

With just one....very long....look at the other's eye, Ratchet was suddenly understanding what was going on.

Well....probably not but he knew what he had to save.

The pilot, the pilot he had to save.

The mech was the pilot.

He was the one he had to save.

He stopped trying to -certainly- open his chest. If it wasnt good for human it probably wasnt for living technology.

The giant technological humanoid seemed in a high distress, exhaling a lot of air from his vents, his eye still intensely staring at him and the engineer doubted his usual technique -including trying to make himself as small as possible- would work.

"Its going to be okay Kid. I can help you. There is nothing here that want to harm you".

He did his best to convey all of these emotions with his facial expression and gaze, still firmly watching back at him.

"the world better wait till im home and officially retired before killing me".

The mech's gaze -damn it was so more living than ANY human made machinery- seemed to soften a bit but still radiated with suspicion.

Deadlock had been in several bad situations. It happened quite a lot when a specie of giant aliens with tendrils tried to invade your homeland, and he was ready to it.

Trained to kill, and to do it efficiently.

And he was *good* at it.

This time was just another of these ‘i went too far in my excitation’ moments, and he has crashed on a random planet he hoped was not inhabited. He landed hard, and pieces of his ship must’ve been thrown near his location.

And now, now there was an organic like no one he ever saw, and the organic was on his *lap* and he had the kindest warmest eyes he ever saw.

And these eyes were directly looking at his own eyes, and the well named ‘Deadlock’ was starting to wonder if he finally had reunited with the Allspark. His pained and tenseful grin faded a little and he tried to move his head forward, searching a better point of view to watch the singularity in front of him.

Ow.

Moving hurt.

Some sound came out of the organic’s mouth, probably a language. He didn’t had the proper tools to decode it but the tone of the language was extremely….comforting ? Soft ?

This was scary.

He wasn’t used to be welcomed like that after a fight.

Usually it was either another fight, either the yelling of a superior, either nothing at all. But this actual living being was carefully examinating his chestplates, and he recognized the gestual of someone who was used to heal. A medic perhaps ?

He tried to move something, maybe a hand, to reach for the pale organic, to be sure he was real, but his body was rather uncooperative, from what he could say, one of his legs was missing, and a lot of wound were releasing energon on the ground he couldn’t saw.

The high probabilities of bleeding out and crash was an issue.

He let his head hang, too tired to watch for every moves of the organic, and barely aware of his environment.

There must be a big problem somewhere….

He confusely thought, while watching the stars.

Must be a bigger injury I haven’t saw……..

Ratchet saw the bright light coming from the alien’s eyes slowly fading, and cold swear ran through his back. Yet, he could still say the soldier was alive, the lights of his body were shining, not a lot, but it was enough. He looked at his first aid kit with disappointment. That wouldn’t be very efficient since the form of life he was trying to preserve wasn’t a tiny human. The nearest thing he could compare the Mech to was….well their own mechs, or eventually….Quintesson. An horrible mess of organic and technology. It was partially thanks to their weird constitution that Ratchet had been able to make sense with the ‘he is alive’ thought.

At this moment and with this material, he couldn’t help the kid, and didn’t possess enough knowledge to tell if he was even dying or not.

He had already an idea of what to do….to fix him, at least trying to, but it involved several objects he hadn’t right now. Leaving to search for these so called objects was risking to let an injured alone, he couldn’t take that risk. He was trapped with the mech, and had to hurry and find something. He stood and reached for more adapted material in his car, trying to find something…. Anything.

Surprisingly, the most useful artifact he came across was his electric screwdriver and a bunch of screw along with a long metallic cabke. A parallel between human stitch, with sewing threads and the material he had with him right now. He could manage something between human fixing and mech repairing, that was what the ‘bio’ in bioengineer stood for.

The kid would be ok. He would live and tell Ratchet why he fell from the sky, and maybe if he saw his friend Jazz….out there…….

.

.

—————————————————

:)) @keferon

(I swear I’m not insane, your AU is just kinda giving me infinite drawing stamina lmao)

[facesittingnightmares]

Garret Grant: Power of the Frat Leader

"Hurry up dude I don't have long, I have to get to my next lecture in 5 minutes!" Garret complained, squatting into the usual position. You got hard just at the sight of his ass crack sweat. Laying down below, you looked up and immediately saw him lowering down onto your face, in a rush to use you. "Fuck you are so comfortable." His words are inaudible to you as he starts blasting his post workout gas at incredible speed. You tried to sniff every single one but he wouldn't slow down. "Ga..Garret...slow....slow down." His only response was more farts, longer farts, and even worse farts. The scent was ungodly as he purposely took the chocolate protein mix that didnt agree with his gut. You began to feel the moisture of his sweat mark your nose and mouth. "Shit I ... I can smell all those up here! I'm toxic as fuck dude!" He laughed between gags as he continued the flurry of farts. You were already unconscious, not being able to keep up or recieve any oxygen in the last few minutes. "And...done!" Garret roared as he felt the last short fart exit his hole. He looked down at your destroyed face, red from heat and weight, wet from his workout sweat, and hair wrecked from his powerful farts. He didn't bother waking you up, instead he just snapped a photo and sent it to you with the caption "day 6 of 7 completed (But not survived 😴). 1 more day of fart initiation left!”