#men are a bit too much

[kimkimberhelen]

My dudes...I gotta be blunt - most alt-women have no interest in being your magical big titty goth gf whatever the fuck. Some of y'all really gotta tone that shit down.

If we choose to dress weird and listen to dope music, it's for ourselves. It's another form of creative expression. It's not for you. It never has been and never will be, so just chill out. Please and thank you.

[the-last-butter]

HC they first met a year or two after Yelan got her vision; post fighting the in abyss but when Kaeya was still navigating his identity from Kaeya, Brother and Right hand of Diluc Ragnvindr to Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain and Quarter master of the Knights of Favonius.

[kashmimo]

baby pokemon trainers 🐣

[jadewritesficshere]

Grey

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Synopsis: Steve gets a wake up call from yall's daughter

Contents: talks of aging, kids being kids, references to smut but nothing explicit

Steve groans as his consciousness comes to. Something is hitting his face. Someone. Repeatedly.

Steve squints his bleary eyes open as a hand smacks him in the jaw again. A small smile appears on his face even though his jaw stings from the impact. "Morning," Steve's voice is still thick with sleep as he turns to look into brown eyes barely peeking over the edge of the bed.

A quiet voice repeats back ,"Morning," to Steve before arms reach up over the edge of the bed to try and grasp something. Small hands grab the blanket and tug it off of him slightly as the child attempts to climb up. At two and half, Amelia Joy Harrington can barely see above the edge of her parents' bed, let alone get on it.

Steve hoists Amelia up and sits her on his stomach. Steve winces as Amelia scrambles, a stray foot hitting his thigh precariously close to his crotch. Arms are thrown around his neck in a hug as Amelia lays her head against her dad's chest.

Steve feels like his heart could burst out of his chest from the joy he is feeling. A hug from his baby? The best way to wake up in the morning. Who cares if his jaw is still stinging and probably red, his little girl loves him.

Steve sighs in contentment. Steve holds his daughter close until she starts to fidget and wiggle. Amelia sits up and throws her hands in the air. "Happy Birthday!" She whispers excitedly, except she has no concept of how quiet a whisper should actually be and says it in a much too loud voice.

"What?" Steve asks, hand hovering near Amelia's side in case she slips. Amelia's eyebrows furrow as she pouts at him, a look that is an exact copy of you. Her arms slowly lower as she stares at Steve. "Happy Birthday. You old." Amelia pouts at him.

Steve blinks at Amelia in confusion but nods his head. First off, rude, he isn't that old. Steve isn't sure where she gets her unfiltered, blunt commentary (it absolutely isn't him). Second, it absolutely isn't his birthday. Not even close.

"Why uh...why is it my birthday?" Steve asks, unsure if Amelia fully understands the concept. Not sure if he can explain the idea of a birthday to a two (and a half) year old. "Grey." Amelia declares giving Steve whiplash. Before Steve can speak, Amelia points at the comforter," Blue." Steve smiles," Yes, blue."

Amelia points to her shirt," Green." Steve nods. Amelia taps under Steve's eye, lashes brushing against her finger causing him to close it. Steve hopes she doesn't attempt to actually poke his eye.

"Brown." Amelia declares. "Thats right." Steve grins, his girl is so smart. Amelia points to his temple," Grey." "That's ri- what?! No!" Steve's mouth drops open as Amelia giggles. "Uncle Dustbin says grey is old. Birthday makes old. Happy Birthday!"

The creak of the loose floorboard in the hall notifies Steve of your approach. You peek into the doorway of the room, seeing your two favorite people. One looking aghast and the other giggling at her father's reaction.

"What's going on in here?" You ask, leaning against the doorway. "Grey. Birthday." Amelia announces, like it explains everything. And it does in her little mind.

You hum in response, looking at your husband who seems lost for words. Amelia slides off of Steve and off the bed, Steve guiding her so her feet land on the ground absent-mindedly. He would never let her fall or get hurt. Or you.

Amelia half walks half dances in your direction. A prance in her step, she stops in front of you and grabs your hands. "It's daddy's birthday," She says before headbutting your leg. You chuckle and pat her head as she dances out of the room, in her own little world.

"You lying to my kid again?" You ask once Amelia is gone. Steve sputters as he sits up," I did not- our kid- did not lie." "Uh-huh, sure," you say sarcastically. Steve rolls his eyes at you as he gets up out of bed.

Steve stretches as he rocks on his feet, back cracking, before strolling over to you. "Good morning," Steve mumbles, hand landing on your hip. You hum back as he leans in and kisses you. Soft. Slow. Sweet. Leaving you longing for more as he pulls back.

"Love you," Steve says, fingers running along the waistband of your pants. "I love you too," you want to melt into him. Curl up in his arms and stay in this moment. Let the love and adoration fill the air around you.

"Do I look old?" Steve is the first to break the silence. Your brow furrows in confusion," huh?" "Amelia she," Steve huffs out a laugh," said I have grey hair." You chuckle as you bring a hand up, fingers threading through his hair," You have some but its nice." "Its nice huh?" "Makes you look distinguished. Handsome." You bite your lip and look up at him.

Steve knows that look. Knows it well. It's the look you gave him the first time you moved past just making out. The same look you gave him on your first anniversary. The same look you wore on your wedding night. The same look you gave before Amelia was conceived.

Steve can't help the smirk that spreads across his face. If getting old gives him that look, well, he won't complain.

"What about me?" You ask, batting your lashes. "Beautiful," Steve kisses your cheek," Gorgeous," he kisses the corner of your lips. He continues to alternate between kissing all over your face and praising you.

"My love," Steve whispers before kissing you softly on the lips. You sigh into the kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other trying to pull him closer.

A loud crash from the living room has you two pulling back from the sweet moment you stole. "What was that?" You call down the hall. "Nothing!" Amelia yells back, making you sigh but smile. Steve can't help but grin too. His life was a little hectic dealing with a rambunctious child, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. And he thinks, if life is like this, he can manage getting old with you. He wouldn't want it any other way.

[niran-kisser]

tw rant

whats up with the weird misogyny in some fics?? like i get that ur all “so thirsty” but some of what ive seen is just so weird

why are you showcasing this kind of objectifying desire? and treat it as if its a good thing?

mischaracterizing characters who respect women and people in general just to make them scummy men who see the reader (mostly afab/fem aligned y/n’s) as some kind of fleshlight who doubles as a punching bag

if ur that masochistic… okay then

[notbecauseofvictories]

very strongly feel that moist/adora is the only actual romantic relationship terry pratchett ever wrote.

[skitskatdacat63]

2009 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix - Sebastian Vettel(ft. Mark Webber & Jenson Button)

[doodlingwren]

I'd love to have something witty to say here, but I think this one post speaks for himself in a way no words could.

Originally, I wanted to do a "simple" redraw of a silly meme, I have no idea HOW it eneded up being a four pages comic. And WHY there's also a JOJO reference within of all things. So uhm, anyway...

✨ Sources and references ✨

The "Dilf Detected Comic" [original unedited comic, meme format, meme format if you want the rebloggable tumblr version]

The "Oh? You're Approaching Me?" panel from the manga JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Stardust Crusaders (chapter 143)

Hope you've liked the Aries™ Rizz©® ok bye

[cankersaurus]

Toxic Yaoi

[narsh-poptarts]

Old Man* OC Poll

*"old man" being more of a vibe rather than any indication of gender

just wanted to do this for fun haha more info about these guys under the cut

Andromedus (he/she/they) - genderfluid wizard acting as (unwilling) mentor to Barnes, a young apprentice who would very much like to learn magic please. A grumpy misanthrope who loathes having to interact with other people and ESPECIALLY with other mages. She's an incredible stickler for rules and procedures surrounding magic, because they know a mistake can change the result into something unpredictable or even dangerous. Believes in the art of experimentation and doing it well. They dabble in all things potion, illusion, divination, and other Stereotypical Merlin-level Magic not specified. Despite a generally cold exterior, does have a heart of gold somewhere in there. Does genuinely care despite what most people might think, though the approach to this usually has a lack of compassion (except on rare occasions).

Belongs to my wizard+apprentice story I'm temporarily calling Cursed Apprentice (I'm so bad at titles)

Bartholemew "Art" Hykes (he/him) - chief forgemaster of the Carapace Knights, soldiers that don pieces of the large locusts and bugs that terrorize the land in an effort to fight back. The integration of these pieces into armor must be highly monitored to prevent a host take-over of the Knight, and Art is in charge of manufacturing these pieces to their perfection. Uses the nectar sourced from the Locusts to power the forges and after decades of work has gone blind from working so directly with it. A man of few words and fewer cares to give, can occasionally be found grumbling over the state of the world and how they're not ever in a position to be called "winning" against the locusts, but as long as he's got a job, there's not too much to complain about. Wishes the Carapace Knights would be a little less headstrong and worry more about how they're always at risk of being taken over by the Hive.

Belongs to my medieval dragon-slayer type story I'm temporarily calling Locust

Ulada Vertison (she/her) - one of the last remaining mechanics that has a fascination with tech from the old world and is willing to tinker with it along with the new. Was the one to repair the Robot and give it the ability to interact with the rest of the new world and sent it on its way. Has a penchant for stupid jokes and "positive attitudes", much to her assistant's chagrin. Approaches most things like a mad scientist with too much time on their hands and the soul of an old woman. (That is, diving head-first into experimental technology with a grin and emerging out the other side pinching the "experiment's" cheeks and checking to see if it eats enough). On the shorter side of stature, but that's okay, her large assistant has more than enough height for the two of them, he can be the one to fetch the stuff on the upper shelves (and the lower shelves, and the stuff from across the room, and hey also sweep the floor. She's got a bad back, don't you know!)

Belongs to my scifi post apocalyptic robot story I'm temporarily calling Mezzanine

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[rickswh0r3]

yes, he makes that pu$$y rain 🎀🩷

taglist : @itsgrimeytime @catt-leya @addicted2twd @starkstiless @blazemm98 @sinsandsweetness @stevenyeunsgirlfriend @grimesgobbler @andrewstinkylinky @eternalrose81 @marlboro-reds-13 @dxrkymxrchy @nadiasgf @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @virtualreader @versatilehater

if you want to join the taglist comment here

[aria-greenhoodie]

You asked and ye shall receive. Aria,why do you use birds to symbolize Abigale's inner turmoil?. Besides the obvious surname thing. Also you apparently have more thoughts on the Muse art? 👀,explain?.

So obviously yeah, “Blackwing” is such a bird surname. BUT THATS ONLY THE SURFACE!

Birds are so often used as symbols of freedom, creatures untethered by laws of the land due to their ability to fly. In the same way, I imagine Abigale as being similar; free, not having to abide by the laws of her land as much as others did. In order to explain I think I have to dive into my version of Abigale’s backstory a bit…

(Warning: I’m going off what I know about 1800-1900s American Society. I’m no historian, but I’ve tried to keep things as believable as possible. I will say I’m pretty confident in that believability thanks to my feminist history class I been taking this semester.)

Born in the early 1880s, the Blackwing family was wealthy, yet fairly unknown. Calling it a “family” before Abigale’s birth would be a stretch in many’s opinion, being made up of just Mr. Atticus Blackwing and Mrs. Chastity Blackwing. Chastity tragically passed in childbirth, leaving Atticus to raise Abigale all on his own. He became fiercely protective and supportive of the young Abigale, a tiny spitting image of his late wife.

Abigale was always an insatiably curious child. At first, Atticus tried to teach her how to be a lady, to be domestic, to cook and clean and dote on her future husband, but quickly realized he was woefully unequipped for teaching a subject he knew nothing about. What’s more: Abigale HATED her womanly lessons. Instead, Atticus decided to let her learn something she actually was interested in; inventing.

Abigale loved to tinker, to create. The mechanical was a fascination of hers from the moment she saw it. Atticus as an architect had some mechanical knowledge, but not to the level Abigale’s insatiable desire to learn needed. But what engineering school would allow a woman in? At this point in the late 1800s, women were nearly always snubbed in inventing spaces, most universities not even offering engineering degrees for female students.

And so, Abigale’s “twin brother” Abraham Blackwing was created. A pseudonym for Abigale, under which she would don Atticus’s old clothes from his boyhood and attend a prestigious engineering school. Her father even falsified documents like Abraham’s birth certificate to make him appear like a legitimate person. It was risky, as crossdressing was a punishable offense by law back then, but Abigale was willing to take that risk if it meant she could learn.

Between her rich father supporting her every decision and passion, and her alter-ego, Abraham, to fall back on, Abigale had a lot of freedom growing up. When her father died of an illness just before she graduated, he left “Abraham” everything, which of course meant that Abigale could “live with her brother” and hold a bank account under his name. She was truly given every opportunity for freedom, more than any woman of her time.

And then, Bill Cipher enters her life.

She’s plagued by the triangular demon ip every night in her dreams, but she refuses to succumb to the shape’s demands. As tempting as building a machine like an inter-dimensional portal was, she knew better than to trust a man who wouldn’t explain his motives. When Abigale asked why Bill wanted this portal built, he couldn’t give her a straight answer, and that was enough proof to know he was no good.

After weeks of restless nights and aggravation, Abigale finds a peculiar ad in the paper, written by a certain Thurburt Mudget Waxstaff III…

On some level, she has to thank Bill for entering her life as much as she has to curse him for it. If he had never decided to torment her specifically, she never would have met the rest of the Anti-Cipher Society. Abigale THRIVED in the society, delighted in inventing new ways to ward off Cipher, collaborating with her dear Jessamine to create specialized weaponry, learning self defense from Horace, gossiping with O’Pimm, spending night after night explaining the mechanics of how her inventions worked to Thurburt so he could whip up a stellar sales pitch… she had never felt more alive! She was flying high, much like a bird on the wind.

And then the conference happened.

Thurburt was institutionalized, right then and there. Abigale watched the asylum workers from backstage with mounting horror. Worst case scenario for Thurburt, he’d be locked in a cell or sent out west at some work camp, but for Abigale? If the asylum workers got ahold of her, she knew they’d think her hysterical. Treatments for “insane” men were often much kinder than treatments for women in those times. Deeming Thurburt insane would send him to a locked cell, but he would at least be allowed to remain himself. Abigale had heard of women like her, eccentric unmarried women, “frivolous women” as they were often called, being scooped up by doctors and spat back onto the street with their entire personalities wiped. A hammer and a well placed nail up the inside of one’s nose could do heinous things. Abigale would sooner die then let them take what made her HER away.

So she ran. She tried to take Jessamine with her, but she refused to leave Thurburt. For six days Abigale hid in the society’s underground bunker, terrified of venturing outside, not knowing what happened to her companions besides Thurburt. She only ventured out on the seventh day because she had run out of food.

She couldn’t go back to her house, when she tried to scope it out, she saw the asylum workers already knocking at her door. She couldn’t stay in the bunker, it was only a matter of time before it was found. She was desperate for a way out, to keep herself free.

And here comes Mr. Northwest.

See, the thing about birds is that while they make excellent symbols of freedom, they also make excellent symbols of being trapped. Birds can be put into cages, forced to sing or speak for meager treats, and lets not forget that at that time most birdcages were anything but spacious and comfortable. Most captive birds of the time were expected to die quickly, only purchased in order to sing prettily for a short while before their tiny little hearts stopped beating. Birds are as much a symbol of freedom as they are of captivity, of being trapped, of the LOSS of freedom.

Abigale never wanted to be a wife, but what choice did she have? Mr. Northwest offered her a way out if she married him. Her choice was thus: escape the state with Mr. Northwest as her husband, or stay in town and eventually be found and promptly lobotomized, erased of any trace of her real personality.

She chose the former.

Better to live in a gilded cage, twittering for scraps, then to be gutted and stuffed on som taxidermist’s wall…

Right?

As for the muse stuff most of my trout process I already told you in the notes of the original piece lol

[dustykneed]

heads up for spones spiceposting.... two of em actually. but honestly figuring out how to crop the other one is beyond me so here you go xD

inspired by the premise of this INSANELY HOT fic by @twinkboimler (painted months ago for the mcspirk discord except for some reason i didn't think to put it here until now! but that's all good really because i needed something to post to tide yall over until after my finals. btw that last f!spones spice summoned a bunch of spicy mcspirk asks and i am absolutely delighted by your minds and i cannot wait to draw all of them!! but yeah. finals. so jsyk i'll get to your reqs in a week or two ^_^)

[pirkos-dumblooking-blog]

I don't usually post my art here, but hey, why not ? I like the drawing and felt like sharing it on all my socials

If you like my art, I'm more active on Instagram, my user is @/pirko_it_is

For every Joker Out fan out here, yes, I am a Jure girlie lol

[amnignsity]

▶My type...

Guess who?- skz edition.

Small idea I'll do later¦]

MDI!!

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

❣ You choked on your own tears as he stretched you out inside - his thick cock filling you up so perfectly as your slick and his pre-cum made it easily to insert himself inside you despite the stretch it felt so good having you roll your eyes back.

He leans his head back groaning while you moaned - the feeling of his cock twitching inside you already made you clench around his throbbing cock with so much desire and desperation. Looking up at him with teary heart eyes while drool dripped down your lip.

He looks so pretty with his croptop and skirt - his collar wrapped around his neck and his fishnets over his beautiful legs. The perfect definition of a pretty feminine man.

The best part he was your man.

"You feel so wonderful, doll...Do I fill you up so good~?...I hope so.." He chuckled his voice slightly more deeper than usual as he held your legs over his shoulder - using your arms strength to hold yourself up wanting to see him fuck you so good.

"Gonna move now hmm~...Don't go dumb on me now, doll...I wanna fuck this pussy filling it up with so much cum before you pass out okay?.." He uttered leaning down as he kisses your lips while you nodded so obedient for him knowing he was the only one who could eat and fuck your pussy this good.

"Good pet."

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

▶I like men in skirts. Listen - hear me out please especially when they're dominant.

Dominant feminine men supremacy >¬<<3.

Sick and tired of hiding it.

I like anyone actually though but would probably stay single forever ¦].

ᯓᡣ𐭩M list°