#yes this is about boyfriends

[ihateliterature]

It's very interesting how anti-fujos will say that they want more wholesome content and content made by gay men and that wholesome stories made by gay men are the only true good representation, because there is a gay man who made a really popular wholesome comic and what they did to him was very telling...

[eggsdrawings]

breakup was so bad it was broadcasted on national television

[inkskinned]

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

[theoldkyokodied]

The Allegiance of the Ascended Vampire and the New God of Magic

[werecreature-addicted]

Getting emotional thinking about ex-bullfighter Minotaur with his little baby. Just a small little calf who climbs on all over him and uses his arms to hang off like a jungle gym. She's the only person in the world allowed to touch his broken horn because even though it hurts he can never say no to his baby. She isn't scared of his towering frame because of course not! That's her Papa!!! She looks at his scared face all she sees is love.

[potato-lord-but-not]

The podcast protagonist boyfriend hangout is evolving to include Scientists™ and transgender allegories

[radiance1]

The Justice League have a problem, one that needs some level of knowledge and expertise of a being from the Infinite Realms to give them a better chance of actually solving this problem.

However.

Every ghost they have summoned, without fail, took one look at Constantine. Squinted (yes, squinted). Then decided to go back to where they came without a word.

This. Would have been useful, nice even. If it was a situation where they needed the summoned being of a cult to head back to where they came without a fight.

But alas, that is not what is happening.

The Justice League, obviously, ask him why the ghosts keep fleeing back to their Realm at the sight of him, but Constantine can't answer because he genuinely has no idea why they keep leaving when getting a proper look at him.

So they keep trying and they do find some success in it. They summoned a boy, most likely older than he physically looks yet it still puts some of them off because of, well.

You know.

A boy with white hair and toxic green eyes. The boy stops short, as if not expecting to be randomly transported to somewhere else, takes a look around the room, then the Justice League. His eyes settle on one person.

Constantine, in particular.

He squints (Why do all of them squint? Nobody knows) and then a sudden looking of realization passes on his face. Different from the looks of vague fear and genuinely want to not involve themselves any further, his face held slight disgust and a heavy amount of disappointment.

Thankfully, he didn't leave immediately after that.

Constantine asks what's with the look on the ghost boy's face, the ghost boy in question squints even further. Stares at Constantine for a moment or two, buries his face in his hands and brings his knees to his hand and groans out.

"He could've done so much better."

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[starry-bi-sky]

do yall ever think about bruce/batman!clone danny standing in front of his bathroom mirror after finding out he was a clone and silently tracing his face. The slope of his jaw and point of his chin. The high angle of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes, the curve of his brow bones and the shape of his nose. The volume of his hair and the way it curls and gets fluffy when it gets too long.

His hair is black the same way a crow's wing is black. His dad's hair is black the same way a black bear's fur is black. His dad's eyes are blue like the ocean is blue. Danny's eyes are blue the same way a glacier is blue.

His dad has a square jaw and straight flat hair, and he tans and gets a face full of freckles when he's out in the sun for too long. Danny burns like a lobster and his face remains untouched. Danny has a sharp jaw and tall cheekbones, and Sam says when he's not smiling there's almost something regal about him. You would never call Jack Fenton "regal" when he's not smiling.

Sam says when he's not smiling he looks scary the same way a stone statue is. Jack Fenton when he's not smiling looks scary the same way that german shepherd staring at you across the street is.

Do you ever think he grew up wondering if he was adopted. Because of course, he has black hair and blue eyes like his dad. But having the same color doesn't make you someone's child.

Or, worse, things he's heard from the other kids and the other parents and even some of his teachers growing up; that he was the product of an affair. And that his dad was just too stupid to notice. And Danny would defend his parents until the day he died, because Jack Fenton wasn't an idiot and Maddie Fenton wasn't a cheater.

But doubt comes in with fickle tongue. his parents swear up and down that he is their child when he asks about either. That Danny just had his grandparents' features, but he was their son and they loved him.

But Danny doesn't look like either of his parents. His mom's eyes are blue like an aquamarine and Jazz's too. And they burn like lobsters in the sun too, but Jazz gets freckles on her face and so does Maddie. And as Danny grows up he doesn't bulk up or get stocky like his dad did, and when he hits puberty he doesn't shoot up like a tree like Jack Fenton did.

He stays small, and they say he's a late bloomer (and he is), or that he just has his mom's height. But he's fast and has good stamina, and some days it feels like he's built entirely different from his family. That the things they went through growing up just didn't apply to him. Jack and Maddie Fenton both had acne and breakouts when they hit puberty, and Jazz inherits it and he's seen the amount of skincare products she keeps on her side of the bathroom.

And then he hits puberty and breaks out maybe once or twice, but his skin stays clear for the most part and the problems and changes his dad went through just don't happen to him.

And the truth is worse than all of the lies.

How horrifying.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

Teasing your monster husband into some morning sex

————

Your husband was always awake before you. Alway sitting at the lit hearth and making breakfast for you both. It was very sweet, but some mornings you really wished you could actually wake up with him. You had no idea how he was always able to get out of bed so quietly and never wake you.

This morning was no exception. He was already sitting at the hearth and preparing breakfast, softly humming to himself while he waited for you to wake up.

You took a moment to admire him, what was once monstrous was now quite attractive. The glow of the fire gently illuminated the sapphire tones of his skin, his dense, shaggy hair was still messy from sleep, the light occasionally catching on the gold bands on his tusks.

He looked up as he heard you moving around in bed, “Breakfast will be ready soon if you would like to join me.”

“Sure, just a moment. I just want to stretch a little, woke up pretty stiff” you lied. You had wished you woke up next to him so you could kiss his neck and tease him.

Coyly you tucked your legs under you and laid flat down on your thighs, a good stretch for the lower back. You peered over your see if you had his attention yet, though for the most part he was just still fussing over breakfast.

You lifted your butt into the air and stretched your arms out in front of you, making sure to wiggle about to get his attention, and your naked backside definitely seemed to do it.

He watched you with curiosity, trying to figure out if you were doing that on purpose or really just stretching. You did your best to dramatically stretch forward a bit more and raise your rear up farther.

It always amazed you how quickly and quietly he moved despite his size. Before you even registered that he had gotten up and was now kneeling behind you, his hands on your hips.

“So, I would take that this is an invitation?” he asked, you could hear how he was smiling as he spoke, the way his purring seeped into his voice.

You did not answer, but instead happily pressed back against him, enjoying how his erection felt against you.

“You get up too early” you teased him.

“Well, someone has to make breakfast here and I know it will not be you. Though if this is how you would prefer to spend your mornings then I have no complaints” his nails dug into your hips where he held you.

You felt his grip leave you and then him shifting around to get out of the pants he had probably only just put on. Moments later you felt as he rubbed his tip between your folds, sliding easily through the beginning of your wetness.

“I do not think you are ready yet” his voice was low in your ear.

You whined in protest, ready to feel how your husband’s thick cock filled you so perfectly and reached so impossibly deep.

His hand slipped between your thighs and quickly found your clit to rub circles, causing you to moan into where your face rested in the bed. He happily continued just slowly thrusting between your legs while he toyed with you.

It never took long with him, the anticipation of what was to come got you off nearly as much as him rubbing your clit. You let out soft whimpers as you came.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled, “You could have just gone for it.”

“No” his voice was firm, a discussion you had many times, “And before you argue again: I am still too big, or you are too small, and I do not want to hurt you.”

“You aren’t going to hurt me.”

“Maybe or maybe not, but I do not want to risk it still” he said firmly, letting you know that it was not up for discussion, “And anyways, I like it when you are needy and desperate.”

He leaned down over you, his chest pressed to your back. His breath was warm in your ear as he spoke “And I like it when you beg.”

Your knees almost gave out from his words. Your husband was a fairly mild mannered man, a caregiver and protector despite his fighting ability, and rarely ever was dominate with you.

“Please” you moaned.

“Please what? My love” he cooed back sweetly.

“Please fuck me.”

Your legs did give out as he slowly entered you and he wrapped an arm under you to keep you up. As much as you hated to admit it he was probably right with always insisting that you were already nice and relaxed beforehand.

His pace was steady, sheathing himself entirely before waiting a few moments for you to adjust. It was always difficult to remember to breathe at first, he was deep enough where you swore you could feel him in your chest practically.

His hand returned to your clit once he was certain you would not collapse, picking back up with rubbing circles against you. Every little touch sent tingles down your limbs.

You felt his tusks against either side of your neck as he buried his face into your hair. He dwarfed you entirely, caging you under him, not that you were complaining. His balls slapped against you with every thrust as he sped up. No matter how many times you slept together you never got used to his size in any sense.

“Cum for me, please” he urged you, the command in his voice slipping and becoming his usual needy whining.

It did not take much for you to finish, clenching around him while he kept dragging out every bit of pleasure he could from you.

He kept his fingers against your clit, enjoying how tightly you gripped him as he overstimulated you as his pace became erratic. With a few firm snaps of his hips you felt how his balls twitched against you as he came in you. How you felt hot cum fill your already overstretched cunt and drip out around his base.

“I think” he gasped, “Maybe I will start staying in bed for longer in the mornings.”

[fridgrave2-0]

hehe ghost-turbo haunting felix au

turbo is connected to the last piece of his code in the whole arcade - a trophy he gifted to felix in mid 80s as a symbol of him genuinely caring about their relationships on par with being the best racer. felix also gave him one of his medals and both kept their gifts next to other rewards, but when roadblasters and turbotime were unplugged, the medal was gone with everything else

now, after burning in cola-lava turbo is basically dead, but scraps of his code still were intertwined with the trophy (after all, it was his first winner's cup, but felix never knew about it), giving turbo an opportunity to exist as a shadow incapable of interacting with anything and anyone besides felix, who kept the trophy even after the roadblasters incident

also I went crazy in tags, feel free to check them out

[paintedcrows]

I just wanted to let you know that you and your art are the reason that Murphy's Law by Honey Revenge is my #1 song on my Spotify wrapped this year, due to that absolutely gorgeous, heart wrenching piece you made of Stan. I went and looked up the song after I saw that art and couldn't stop listening to it, it made me cry several times while listening to it, looking at your art, and thinking too hard about Stanley Pines. 💙😌

YESS YESS!!!! THE STANGST OF IT ALL!!! Oh my god thats amazing! And tysmm!! I'm so glad it resonated 😭💙

I love Honey Revenge, they were my top artist this year! Imo their songs "Are You Impressed?" and "Distracted" work well for Stan too! But Murphy's Law, man. It's just such a perfect song for him. So angstyyy

Also I need you to know that after reading this, I had to literally pace around my room a bunch to calm down. Then I opened the animatic wip I had for the song (and had kind of abandoned) and drew a whooole bunch more for it! It's very much a work in progress, but I hope it vibes? :>

[salems-lots]

You ask these two who their favorite little guy is and their response sounds so unreal they whip out photographic evidence

[hierba-picante]

Imagine having an animatronic bf who cradles your whole cranium while you guys kiss-

[darqx]

Do you have anymore drawings that we haven’t seen of Cain absolutely fucking up Rire? Idk about you but there’s something about Rire being put in his place by Cain that really makes makes my heart quiver 💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥

I drew this to a Vengaboys compilation mix

[wild0moon]

highly amused by the responses to my tankdad post all being either feral excitement over tankdad (same) or thirsting for john's body with very little in-between