#but if youre like me then its not a joke

[knific]

saturday

[sophfandoms53]

Im fucking crying why did he say this, bro has never been outside before😭😭

[caruliaa]

staff still hasn't given me polls, what should i do?

🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 their moms 69%

🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪🟪 their dads 31%

grace image os i get to look at her

[finedinereception]

“lilith got charlie in the divorce” “lucifer got charlie in the divorce” actually alastor got her

[homeofwyrm]

Inglorious:

adjective. without courage or glory; dishonorable, shameful, or disgraceful. unknown or obscure.

[choccy-milky]

MC doing what we all wished we could do (aka napping on the floor with ominis )😴💕

[iceagebaby]

say hello to a stupid ass fallout AU, Fallout: Nowa Rzeczpospolita/Fallout: New Republic of Poland, developed with @kondz1u

for now vulpes and arcade, in a typical PRL polish setting

without background, with notes, and some additional text, under the cut

Arkadiusz Ganonowicz, overworked doctor in NFZ, which you may recognize from NRŚ (Nowa Republika Śląska/ New Silesian Republic), also the grandson of Mengele. Next to Arek, his 'friend', Inkuldzki, child from the divorce between Edward Saloński and Janusz Grahamka, and a member of the kibole Legii Cezara, a notorious football fans, who alywas get into fights with everyone.

yeah sorry its in polish, but those most important ones say:

"slouches like hell"

"those medical flip flops"

"harmony of the design completes itself"

"tactical glasses for blue eyes"

"both pale, no vitamin D"

"each Pole in the 90s"

"height perfect to see some teats"

[geodebiome]

its too horrible for words

[yourlocalabomination]

I am not immune to funny crackships.

+ Bonus

[sukunasweetheart]

Something i think abt often is sukuna placing almost all of his entire body weight on you, pretending to faint just for the shits and giggles, even tho it makes you fight for your LIFE

Sukuna: oh my, what's this...? Im feelin' so lightheaded all of a sudden-

You: [SCREAMING]

[bugbuoyx]

One manifestation of anti-transmasculinity I see again and again, primarily in discussions about the existence/denial of anti-transmasculinity is the treatment of transmascs in the same way cis men treat feminists as hysterical women and rad/feminists treat men as ignorant beasts. Of course these really just echo each other in that the other is deemed lesser but it's really in the wording.

You do not, can not ever understand misogyny, you are just ignorant sluts vieing for attention, what happened to you wasn't that bad, you're exaggerating, it was just a joke, it doesn't matter, you deserved it, you're being dramatic, who cares, who cares, who cares. Just shut up already.

[fjordline]

[vyeoh]

I'm being 100% serious one of the worst things stan culture has done is making suicide jokes commonplace again

[pettyprocrastination]

Leg Day

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Female Powerlifter!Reader

Summary: You first catch Art Donaldson's eye in the university gym when all you want to do is hit back and biceps before class, the tennis player finds himself quite caught in your physique.

Warnings: foul language, smut, oral (f receiving), Art eats pussy and likes your thighs a whole lot. Reader is described as muscular. One line describes reader as not looking like Tashi in terms of physique.

Word Count: 1k

Author's note: Forcing myself to get back into writing at the same time im forcing myself to get back to the gym :') take this lil ficlet as a sign of my love for those who still follow me on here lmaoo.

Art adored your thighs. 

You didn’t look like Tashi. Not that there was anything wrong with that in his mind, of course. But the physiques differed greatly. The star tennis player of Stanford had a lean build from her years of training and perfecting her sport. Long legs that covered the court in smooth strides and toned arms that delivered a vicious backhand. 

The same body he and Patrick had nearly shared that one fateful night in a dingey hotel room when they should have been sleeping before their match in the morning. The same body he had found his gaze lingering on a touch too long to be appropriate for his best friend's girlfriend. 

And the same body you called him out for drooling over in the campus gym when all you wanted to do was a simple arm workout before your 10 am. 

“So are you actually going to use the bench or are you just gonna sit on it and stare at her like a fucking creep for another twenty minutes?” 

You were not Tashi Duncan. 

Strong arms crossed over one another as you waited for him to either say something or move, neither of which his brain could comprehend as you stood before him expectantly. A powerful, if not a tad intimidating physique supported by thick, muscular quads built from years of lifting heavy in sweat-filled weight rooms since you were a little girl that grew tired of soccer. 

Then cheer. 

Then volleyball. 

The gymnastics. 

Powerlifting was the one sport that finally stuck. 

“It makes me feel strong.” You had explained your love for the sport to him one night. With his head laying in your lap, the textbook he had carried with him to your dorm under the excuse of needing help studying now laid discarded on your floor as he listened to your story. “Seeing how much I can lift, how it feels to finally make a weight you’ve been struggling with for so long. It feels like you’re proving something, you know? Especially when you’re one of the only girls in the weight room.” 

Art could feel the testament to your craft under him. The thick corded muscle of your quads beneath his head as your fingers carded through his hair absentmindedly. Legs that were hugged by every pair of shorts you wore or hidden beneath the same pair of Stanford sweatpants whenever you felt a chill in the air. He found himself dreading the coming of winter as the two of you began to spend more time together. 

He wasn’t sure when the admiration began to shift into something deeper, slowly turning from one athlete showing respect for another’s commitment to their sport into a hormonal college freshman staring at your ass in spandex shorts each time he bumped into you at the campus gym. 

What he did know was that the night he finally found himself between your legs was one he would never forget. How quickly the pair of you shed your clothes in one anothers embrace, turning your room into nothing more than a collection of discarded study packets and kicked off Stanford merch telling the story that Art would no doubt replay in his mind for the entirety of winter break. 

The soft smile on your face as he crawled on top of you, pressing fervent kisses to every inch of your body that you would allow him access. How he memorized each microscopic reaction, that a kiss to your neck would make you giggle but turn into a shuddering gasp if he dug his teeth into the skin. How you softened in his arms when he ran his tongue along the scar lining your hip, one he would have to ask you about someday. 

But dear God, he could write poetry about your legs. 

The feeling of them wrapping around his head while he lapped at your cunt with tentative kitten licks that soon turned into devouring you with a desperation that could no doubt be heard through the walls. Your muscles twitching and trembling from his touch as you cried out his name with an arched back and scrambling hands, desperately trying to reach him until you found purchase in his soft curls, gripping just tight enough to verge on being painful. His own moans mixing with yours, poor bastard getting so lost in giving you pleasure he didn't even realize when he began to grind his hips into your mattress, desperately searching for a release while helping you reach your own. 

To hear your voice pitch into an airy whine as your thighs tightened around his head. Tighter and tighter as he pushed you over the edge of your orgasm, hips twitching against his mouth still working away against your dripping cunt in a way that verged on being gluttonous until you pulled him away with a sharp tug on his hair. 

In the aftermath, a silence settled over the two of you like a soft blanket. Spit-slicked lips laid feather-light kisses against the still twitching muscles of your thighs, pressing against the blooming bite marks that he knew would just barely peek out from the cuff of your shorts you wore during your morning training sessions. A minuscule stake of claim that he had no business branding you with given that he was too chickenshit to take you out on a real date. 

Had you opened your eyes, you’d see that his were already trained on you with a softness you weren’t yet ready to see. Admiring the rise and fall of your chest with a faint smile on his face and the desire to take you out properly. To scrounge up enough money from his bank account after the room & board payments bleed him dry to some small burger shop or maybe the local theater to see you outside of the walls of your dorm or the university gym, wearing something nice and laughing at his jokes before kissing him goodnight. To sit in the stands of his next match as his girlfriend and congratulate him on his win with an overly obnoxious kiss that he would swear was humiliating but made him preen under your praise like a peacock during mating season. To do all of the downright nauseatingly romantic bullshit every nineteen year old boy wanted to do with the girl he was too afraid to actually make a move on. 

But not yet. 

“Have you ever considered wrestling? You’ve got a killer leg lock.”

[aeroplaneblues]

Cheers Mate ⛓️⚖️

So far, Wriothesley and freminet are my faves in fontaine. But the one i like everything is wrio, just look at him😂

Wrio and cyno would get along because laws, but also its two guys who had a rough childhoods and despite it work towards making everyone’s lives better. OH fe3h en va too haha

My apologies to any british friend offended by my use of innit🧐

[witchinatree]

i know the whole "do you think jon ever used his powers to Know what his parents looked like" thing is far more devastating than this but what if he tried using his powers to remember original sasha? jon and sasha always seemed closer than the rest, he picked her (and tim) to work with him and tolerated a lot more nonsense from her than anyone else (using his password to access his computer [161], debating his pronunciation of calliope [25], etc)

and ofc jon and martin became significantly closer as the podcast went on, but in the beginning he was cruel to martin when he gave a statement but accepting of sasha? idk i think their friendship was a lot deeper than we realized (ESPECIALLY since his first murder in season 5 was because NotThem provoked him about sasha) and i think jon wouldve used his powers to Know the original sasha, not sure if it wouldve worked though

so so sorry to distract from the post but can yall read the tags for me because i suffered immensely for this post