#hes just my perfect boy!

[rexscanonwife]

btw here's some Brea and Kepler doodles I did at work and never posted ✌️

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

we’ve got literally forever to figure out what the rest means, btw. if you even care.

[jellydragons]

dog time :)

ref + alt version:

pros of knowing someone who can turn into a wolf:

free cuddles

everything else

cons:

he tends to get broody about it

dog hair EVERYWHERE

in summary: ouppy :)

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[kaybaeisgay]

no but really let’s talk about the dynamic between the older gen spideys vs young gen spideys for a moment, because it’s really got me fucked up.

miguel and all the older gen spideys seem so entirely accepting of all these “canon compliant” rules, because those rules absolutely validate the trauma that every one of them has gone through. the idea of “oh our pain had a reason, oh our heartbreak was for something after all” is a VERY powerful notion that—understandably—they welcome with open arms because they have already lived it.

but the younger gen spideys…. yes, most of them have bought into miguel’s logic for most of the movie, because of course you’re going to listen to the 1,000,000 adults all telling you the same thing when you’re fucking fifteen and desperate for any semblance of mentorship. and it sure does make a lot more sense when you yourself have also experienced a similar trauma to all the others.

but that’s exactly it, isn’t it? they’ve all experienced the same trauma—

that miles and pav have not.

so, no. actually, fuck your rules. and really, fuck your demands that i must suffer what you suffered just because you cannot accept me without it. and good on miles for saying it—good for all of the spideys who realized he was right—realized he was asking all the right questions instead of drawing all the wrong conclusions.

(yet. for all my anger i feel towards the older gen for pressuring him in that way….i also understand why they cling so desperately to these stupid “canon” rules. because, if miles can manage to resist it—if he or gwen or pav can escape what they never could—then suddenly, they have to ask the question of:

“what didn’t i do right?”

and

“was all that pain really for nothing?”

and accepting your life after having to ask those questions instantly becomes much more difficult.)

[medicalunprofessional]

never change, man !

[gunsatthaphan]

4 boys, 1 braincell 😌🧎🏼‍♀️

[pidgydraws]

IMO

i make a lot of very fluffy, sentimental, art~ but i need everyone to know just how much i fucking hate these two (adoringly. with all my heart.)

[cowgirls-blues]

... I'm smoking, and I'm moving around a baseball around in my hand. And I'm counting the stitches. 'Cause it's a Möbius loop, it's just one line of stitches, I'm counting - kind of like a rosary. "Take me out to the ball game..."

I'm watching Candela Obscura for the first time and my brain just went "hey what if we drew Sean with huge Ghibli tears wouldn't that be fun???

[egophiliac]

OMG EGO HAVE YOU SEEN THE BOOK 7 CATER CARD YET

80s britpunk Cater is such an incredible direction to take. his Sid Vicious jacket! his little british police cap! I wouldn't have anticipated that going full-on Sex Pistols would be his alternate self but it is SO fitting actually. 😭

(also th-the crown symbol?! the gavel?! is housewarden Cater real because I will TRANSCEND --)

[pinkmirth]

god he looks so kissable

[i-want-men-i-cant-have]

just finished xo, kitty and am waiting for Min Ho fanfics

[jellydragons]

been watching a lot of hermitcraft recently and am happy to report that i am hopelessly endeared by these little goobers 💕 they’re like bugs to me

close ups under the cut!

gonna be real this was absolutely just me taking the opportunity to get my grubby lil mitts all up in their character designs lol i heart interpreting mc skins

[ardate]

Every Boromir hater makes my enormous love for him grow stronger. Sorry you couldn't understand him, I get him tho and we're holding hands and the whole of Gondor is laughing at you

[teddybeartoji]

touching teeth with gojo. sounds weird i know but my beloved biters and chewers just stay with me here okay. you're both sitting on your bed in the dim-lit room, the only light being the computer screen on the floor. there's some music playing quietly in the background but it's all muffled in – your focus being on the man sitting before you.

his pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, deep breaths slipping from between them. his chest is rising and falling fast, the excitement bubbling in it, ready to burst. you're facing him, sitting on the bed with your knees tucked underneath you. you're not doing any better than he is – you're heaving like he is, eyes so big and wide, fingers itching to feel him already.

you don't really remember how you ended up here but that doesn't matter. his lips strech into a hungry smile, the rows of perfect teeth flashing you teasingly. he knows you're ready to lunge because he's ready to lunge. you lean forward an inch and he does the same. everything is so slow, the clock in your room has stopped in its track, the music has gone quiet. your own lips mirror the smile the boy in front of you is sporting and you see something flicker in his eyes. curiosity? want? need? a mixture of all of them? they drop down to your mouth and he gulps. you look delicious. he looks delicious. it's a feast.

you part your lips and he automatically opens his wider too, completely mirroring you. you lean closer, he leans closer. the distance between you isn't there anymore, you can smell his cologne, fuck – you can almost taste him. your own eyes flick to his mouth and as if your hand has a mind of its own, it raises to touch his soft flesh.

satoru's breath hitches, feeling your fingers against him. you slowly drag them all over his mouth, pushing and pulling his lips until they're properly pink and a little bit swollen. he's really panting now, sounding a bit like a dog. a puppy, eager to play. a cub, eager to bite.

he can't tear his eyes from your lips either, he's intoxicated. he's addicted, and you only make it worse when you sink your teeth into them. he lets out a quiet little groan, from the depths of his throat, making your grin stretch even wider.

your hand cradles his face, tracing over his cheekbone before resting on his jaw. your thumb pokes at his bottom lip, the quiet open up, baby coming from you is making him feel dizzy but he obeys nonetheless. his mouth opens wider than before, displaying the sharp canines you've been thinking about for the longest time. oh, he's perfect.

you press your thumb inside his warm mouth, dragging it over his teeth, feeling the edges of them against your soft skin. satoru's eyes close as he fists the bedsheet underneath your bodies. he's so warm, and you feel yourself sigh when your thumb meets with his tongue. his lips lock you inside, his tongue swirling around your finger before he hollows his cheeks and sucks on it. you can't breathe anymore.

you've never been this enamoured with anyone before. he's sucking on you thumb, teeth gently grazing against it and you're in love with him. you tell him to open up again and he listens in a second, he's good like that. you tell him to look at you and he does – big beautiful doe eyes staring back at you, ready to do whatever you ask him to do. whatever you tell him to do. you award him with another smile and he just can't help but match your expression. there's spit all over his mouth and the desire to clean him up is eating you alive, but you have to wait. you need to take this slowly.

he's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky and you love him. deciding to push him even further, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and pull it closer to yourself. he doesn't say anything, only observing and learning. you raise his hand to your mouth and you part your lips, inviting him in.

his leans forward with his whole body, hypnotized by the sight before him. you hold his hand with both of yours, molding his fingers into a fist, only leaving his pointer finger out. you guide him in, watching his adam's apple bob at the warm feeling. you guide him over your own canines, just as you'd done with his, letting him explore the inside of your mouth. his own hangs open and he looks so cute like this.

you take your hands off of him and watch him fall into the deep pit of hunger all on his own. his heavy finger presses down on the row of sharp edges, secretly wishing it'd drew blood. he runs his finger over the sides of your teeth, smoothly gliding over them causing the skin of your cheek bulge out. he tries to swallow the thing stuck in his throat but he can't. he feels like he's suffocating; gasping for air, gasping for more of you.

while he's focused on the finger disappearing into you, you take the time to trace of his lips again, promptly pushing through them and connecting you both. teeth and skin. wet and warm. his eyes glance up only to find you already staring at him and he feels himself harden in his pants.

gently, you bite down on his finger, he does the same. he gnaws on you and you do the same. it's romantic. it's erotic. you need more.

so, suddenly you move from your sitting position, pushing the boy in front of you down onto the soft bed. situating yourself over his abdomen, you press another finger into his mouth, reveling in the way his eyes roll back into his head for a moment. his finger is still locked between your sharp teeth, leaving deep dents in it. god, he wishes you'd draw blood. his free hand goes to your hip, squeezing the flesh so hard it'll bruise. you need more.

the room feels too hot, your bodies feel too hot. satoru feels like he's about to melt into the bed, your heavy gaze burning him alive. fingers press flat on his tongue and his eyes widen once more, and when you press them deeper into his mouth, down his throat – his hips buck under you. his eyes close as he tries his best to keep from gagging. you bite down on him harder and his eyes do another round around his skull. fuck.

cracking open his eyes, he's greeted with a big toothy grin. it's reaching your ears, and with the way your eyes shine in the dark room, it's a bit scary. is this the beast one might meet in a forest somewhere? the one that will eat and devour him? the one that'll open him up and consume him?

his heart thrashes in his ribcage, calling for you, reaching out to you. he's not the predator he thought he was; he's the oblivious prey, who walked into your love all on his own and who is now stuck in it.

it's not like he wants to leave anyway.

[saytrrose]

Woaggg,, big doll,,