#holy shit woman

[parklunas]

[lukesfatties]

🚨thicccollegegirl is back🚨 I REPEAT 🚨thicccollegegirl is back🚨

[crowskullls]

I couldn’t be a minecraft creator because if I was doing freaky gay roleplay with my friends and then got called siblings I would just end it all

[impactrueno]

two adult lydias with completely opposite experiences

[highly-flammable]

The Hunger Games, Chapter 22

Mockingjay, Chapter 13

Suzanne Collins, this was nasty work.

[hamletthedane]

[yoku-yukihime]

smoochin......

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[becca-e-barnes]

I need more of needy Bucky who loses control from the feeling of being inside your pussy. I need him to fuck me like a rag doll and to carry me over his shoulder around the house like his personal flesh light.

Fuck, this has always been one of my very favourites to write. I really like to imagine that he struggles to last but he can keep going after he finishes 🙈 it's my lil filthy fantasy

But imagine spending the morning in bed with him. You both wake up around 6am and you spend the first little while just touching and chatting before a couple of hours of sex. Now it's maybe around 11am and after lying there together for a while, you're both in the mood for something to eat.

You pull a robe around you and that's just about as much as you manage before Bucky's scooped you up, carrying you to the kitchen.

"You don't need to carry me everywhere!" You tease, remembering that he'd carried you up the stairs to bed last night too.

"I know. But. Carrying you means. I. Can put you. Exactly. Where. I want you." He peppers kisses over your face and neck, tenderly capturing your bottom lip between his before he sets you up on the kitchen countertop.

There's no point arguing with him so you sit there quite happily. He makes up a quick pancake mix, washes some berries from the fridge, preps the coffee machine and sets the little dining table for the two of you.

Somewhere in between, you got a little distracted, perched on the counter scrolling on your phone. You hadn't noticed the way he's looking at you.

He's so caught up in the little things; the way the light hits your shoulder, the curve of your hips, the way the silhouette of your nipples are visible against the satin robe.

"Look at you, sitting there all sweet like your cunt isn't so fucking full of me."

That's got your attention.

You squirm a little, your body fluttering at how shamelessly vulgar he's being but nothing's stopping you from doing the same.

You spread your legs, exposing the slick mess coating your inner thighs. It's a mixture of your own arousal and Bucky's cum, dripping out of your sensitive cunt.

Your fingertips trail lazily over your exposed sex, your skin glistening in the natural light before you bring your fingers to your own lips, sucking them clean, giving him a little bit of a show.

"Tastes amazing, sweetheart." You groan, noticing the growing bulge in his thin pyjama bottoms. "But I lost track of how many times you came inside me this morning. You came so deep, most of your cum won't have dripped out yet. Bet I'm still totally stuffed full."

He sinks to his knees in no time, settling his head between your thighs, breathing in the faint smell of your arousal. His tongue presses flat to your sex, trailing from your hole to your clit and back, gathering as much of your combined release as possible.

He groans, low and pathetic, allowing his tongue to dip inside you as deep as he can bury it. He savours every drop of cum he earns back from your body.

When his tongue alone isn't enough, he slips a finger into you, followed quickly by a second, curling them against your sensitive inner wall.

"Bucky baby, please don't make me cum again." You groan, your fingers tangled in his dark hair but you know he's not giving you that choice. Not when his free hand is furiously stroking his own cock, desperate to ensure that when he's finished licking his cum out of you, he can flood your cunt with another load.

[frudoo]

Unsure if you’re still taking asks but I’ve got an idea and I can’t write stories for shit; the 141 boys getting drugged by gas at an enemy base, only after the exfil they figure out it’s an aphrodisiac, and the reader has to deal with these ~~needy~~ men <33

I was wondering when I'd get a sex pollen ask....

Warnings: This is kinda silly oops. SMUT, obviously. One (1) mention of murder teehee. No prep for poor fem!reader. (2) PIV, anal sex, triple penetration, blowjob, breeding/just SO much cum. MDNI.

“Get them separated from everyone else. Now!” You demand, quickly throwing on your gas mask and slipping into the room where your beloved 141 are hot, sweaty, and panting. 

     “Fucking KorTac. Did you kill the one who did this?” You ask Price specifically, but he points to Ghost and you nod in understanding. 

     “Big fuckin’ wanker, size o’two Johnnys probably,” Ghost snorts even through his agony, earning himself a slap on the arm from Soap, whose face is even redder now.

     “Who’s gonna be my guinea pig?” You ask, sighing when you see all of them rushing towards you. “Just one!”

     It’s only when they get up close that you recognize the symptoms—excess sweating, bloodshot eyes, uncontrollable flared nostrils, and the distinct aroma of rosewater that’s clear even through your mask. Fuck. Of all the gasses they could have inhaled, did it have to be sex pollen? It’s better than something deadly, you guess. When you look down, it’s confirmed—all four men have massive tents in the front of their tactical pants. You grumble and begin taking off your hazmat suit because there’s only one way to cure sex pollen. Sex, of course. 

     “No, love, what are you doin’? You can’t-” John begins, but you shut him up by pulling him into a sloppy kiss. 

     Instantly, the captain is growling and tearing at your regular uniform. You sigh in annoyance against his lips at the thought of having to replace them, but your hands occupy themselves with unzipping each of their pants anyway. Before long you find yourself completely stripped and straddling John on the couch while he slobbers all over your tits like a starved dog. With a wince, you seat yourself on the captain’s dick, whining at the painful stretch.

     Without warning, Ghost shoves in alongside Price, making you scream and dig your nails into the couch with a sob. He kisses your forehead and apologizes over and over again as he continues setting a pace with John—one pushes in, one pulls out, but both tips remain inside of you at all times. Whimpering, you lay your torso down on top of Price’s in an attempt to soothe yourself. Just when you think this will be it, two men at a time, fucking Johnny climbs on top of you and spits on your puckered hole, pushing his stupidly fat cock inside. You’re so stretched, so full, in absolute agony and yet reveling in pleasure.

     Anything for your boys, you have to remind yourself. Anything. You are their nurse, after all, the only one who can cure them of this damn sickness. That’s why you don’t complain or resist when Kyle cups your jaw in his pretty, big hand, holding your mouth open while he coaxes his dick inside. Instantly you’re hollowing your cheeks and sucking, using Gaz as a distraction from the searing pain of Soap jackhammering into your asshole and the delicious euphoria of Price and Ghost sharing your pussy—which, by the way, you did not know was so elastic. 

     Johnny is the first to come, and you’re secretly thanking the great heavens that he’s so sensitive that he can’t last very long. When he pulls out, he presses a kiss to your forehead and mutters numerous apologies and offers of thank yous—while you appreciate the gesture, it’s a little hard to acknowledge it at the moment while Kyle’s tip is hitting the deepest part of your throat. Before long, you’re sputtering on an overwhelming abundance of salty semen, listening to the sweet sounds of the pretty sergeant’s orgasm ringing throughout the air.

     Next to cum is Price, and holy shit, does he have a lot of it. He grabs your face and pulls you down for another kiss, uncaring of the remnants of Kyle’s spend as he shoves his tongue inside your mouth. His own semen is spilling out of you every time Ghost pushes back in, and finally, the gruff lieutenant reaches his peak. It’s the first time you’ve heard him whimper, and it makes your own orgasm that much more intense. John holds you through your spasms until you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck while all four men pet your skin and tell you how thankful they are. 

     You’ll do anything for your team, so of course you don’t protest when they all start licking up their messes off of you. Such a wonderful nurse, you are. 

[sentientsky]

Mel Medarda (x)

[taylorftparamore]

for me, it keeps coming back the now deleted scene in anti-hero where taylor first openly used art about something that directly impacted her mental health. and i get why it would be triggering and uncomfortable to see a thin woman portray herself as "fat" on a scale. i understand the "problematic" edge to it. and yet... i still hate y'all for thinkpiecing her into deleting the scene. it was art about something that directly impacted HER mental health and folks felt entitled to tell her how she could make art about something that impacts HER. that HER MENTAL HEALTH was distressing them, could she pretty please censor it so it would stop triggering them.

like fuck y'all. i hope she never feels the need to censor herself again to cater to you fuck ass bitches. some of you DO need to be told you're being overbearing and entitled, sorry! you don't get to censor art just because you don't like who's making it or feel the person who made it isn't allowed to use art the way they used it.

[cholerascum]

this is unreal to me. thank you all so fucking much. i want to specifically call out @whore-ratio for being a beacon of support and love during an increasingly hard time for me. love you honey <3

expect a new schedule to be posted soon.

higher effort art more often. all of those that i have in my queue will be updated according to the new schedule. everything else i'll just let go up.

the grey background low effort stuff will instead be high effort stuff, including comics. art streams coming as soon as i figure it out and, importantly, get a real mic.

love you all. love my moots. love you @whore-ratio

this is fucking crazy thank you.

[wren-was-here]

“the new mean girls movie was bad blah blah blah”

okay, valid, but pretend you’re a lesbian and then watch it again and get back to me

[old-skyguy]

The silly stupid alien show about ghosts that steal your cock and balls just pulled the most gut wrenching, poignant shit possible and portrayed it so artistically and meaningfully what is even life.

This was MASTERFULLY done. The visual and environmental storytelling, the subtle foreshadowing, and inject those motifs into my fucking BLOOD.

Ho. Ly shit. Good fucking lord.

[carrymelikeimcute]

struck today that trans guys in the UK are being told 'you're setting yourself up for a lifetime of medicalisation!!!!!' by scandalised older women who bemoan their 'having breasts removed that have never known a lover's caress' (yes that's a direct quote, fuck you allison bailey).

But apparently birthing a child, which literally shrinks your grey matter and permanently alters your body - significantly effecting your quality of life with incontinence, hernias, loss of sexual function/sensation, not to mention depression and body dysmorphia as your entire body literally changes forever and you suddenly have a dependant human that will be with you for the rest of your life...that's just something you can do on a whim with no need for anyone else's input or approval. 'Oh you can just have the one' 'it's not that hard' 'yI know it was an accident, but you might as well keep it'.

Apparently AFAB bodies are only allowed to be permanently changed and 'medicalised' for the benefit of others - the production of children/new tax payers, and not for the actual person inhabiting them.

Like, AFAB people don't just owe the world their bodies for the pleasure of (predominantly) cis straight men. They also owe them their health and body functionality.

Terf rhetoric literally frames AFAB bodies as a community resource.

Terfs are inherently against bodily autonomy.