#pick me

[animentality]

[spaceshipellie]

[pandorasfavorite]

I like imagining Dominik to be the neediest and messiest man ever. Like he can’t help but be drawn to you…

“Baby-“ he says in a hushed whisper, “babyy” he shakes your arm trying to wake you up. You groan and pull the blankets further above your head, shrugging Dominik off. He is nearly on top of you and one of his hands are clasped on your hip, pushing your body in attempt to wake you up. “Angel…love of my life…mami”, his hands peel back the covers and he kisses the side of your jaw. You flip over on your back to glare at Dominik fiercely and in a glimpse your eyes fly open. “DOM!”, you toss yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck, without a care. His strong arms wrap around you for the first time in 2 weeks.

He was away wrestling, and he couldn’t give you exact time to expect him back… considering he didn’t even know himself. You’ve been aching for him since the second he left and the surprise of him beside you in bed was phenomenal.

Now you’re perched on his lap staring at him with soft plush lips that are begging to touch his. Though as if he could read your mind, or maybe he was feeling the same way, his tattooed hand reaches behind your neck, pulling you in to crash your lips to his. His tongue slips between your open mouth, his lips sucking and brushing against your own. The second he pulls away he pushes your hair to the side, pressing his face into the side of your neck, inhaling you. “God I missed you”

You smile at how sweet he is, after all he was always attached to your hip if he could be. You push Dominik by the shoulders making him look at you as if you cut off his air supply. “How was your trip?”, you say so soft it could’ve been a whisper. He rolls his eyes, pushing you back against his chest and kissing your neck. His bottom lip dragging after every kiss. You giggle at the feeling of his face nudging you to the side, “Dom baby, how was it?”, you push him back one more time.

He grabs your hand and pressed it against his cock, “You feel what you do to me mami? Your pretty face and-“you feel his finger trace the outline of your boobs, “- this beautiful body”. His tongue darts out to lick his lips and he stares at you for as long as he can stand it. He clasps a hand gently around your neck, pulling himself inevitably closer, “Promise you won’t have to do anything, just let me make you feel good hm?”.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pick Me 1

Warnings: this is a dark fic which may contain noncon, violence, and other dark elements. Please keep in mind that all events and characters are fictional. Be mindful of the content you consume and pay heed to the warnings given.

Character: Tony Stark

This is a sister series to One

Note: Please feel free to leave a comment in the replies, a reblog, or my ask. I appreciate likes but I enjoy discussing with you all even more. Your time and feedback are truly appreciated 💞.

You sit in the front row, like you do in every lecture. Just like you’re top of the class in every course. You don’t miss a class or a reading or a due date. Unlike the rest of your peers, you’re not here for the party life, you are here for an education’; for a future.

As your fellow pupils type their notes on their laptops, if they’re even bothering too, you’re writing each word by hand. You listen intently, eyes stuck to Professor Stark as he speaks with his hands, curling his fingers to emphasize his points. His voice carries effortlessly around the airy space, echoing in your ears.

You watch him just as rapaciously as you cling to his every word. His dark hair is laced with gray and his handsome features are lined perfectly with age. A man seasoned just right by the passage of time.

And he isn’t unaware of the effect he has, even on girls barely half his age, though there are few among his audience. Engineering tends to be inhospitable to the quote ‘fairer’ sex.

Yet his first-year physics is overcrowded with girls agog at his devilish smirk. It’s not lost on you how a wink could make one feel something or another. But you remind yourself that this is an academic setting and you shouldn’t be thinking of your professor in that light.

Besides, you’re not his type, are you?

You grimace as you pull your thoughts back to your slanted writing. Ugh, focus. You don’t need to watch Julie twirl her hair as she tries to snare Stark’s attention or notice how Lydia shifts in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. These girls are there for an elective, but this is a core course. You can’t mess this up.

As the three-hour slot comes to an end, a sigh of relief ripples through the rows of students. Lap desks are folded down and laptops snapped shut. A chatter buzzes through the lecture hall but you take your time packing up.

You close your notebook and pull your messenger bag into your lap. Lydia stands, hooking her purse on her shoulder as she fixes her skirt deliberately. She’s brazen enough to spend the lecture beaming up at Dr. Stark without taking a single word down. He doesn’t even seem to mind as she takes obvious selfies and pouts out her lips. It’s like a game to her. Not everyone has a rich daddy to buy their degree.

Julie gives a moping look but is dragged off by her sole companion. You spoke to them once on the first day but quickly realised they are too vapid to stomach. You curl your lip as you glance over at the steady tide of fleeing students. 

Lydia takes her chance to approach the podium. She leans on it as Stark powers down the projector. You can’t hear her churlish whispers but he chuckles in return. As he looks at her, a gleam in his dark eyes, you stare. It’s like you don’t even exist.

She reaches to touch his sleeve and he leans in. His silty tone rolls through the silence but his words are indiscernible. You bite the inside of your lip. You’re right there. How could he want those dumb girls and their overglossed lips? You have a brain, you have substance.

Uh, but aren’t you just as stupid? Thinking about it at all. Wandering off in your mind when you should be studying? Spending those moments before your staggered sleep picturing Dr. Stark and his trimmed goatee, wondering if his silvered hair is as soft as it looks.

Pathetic. You sling your bag on your shoulder and march to the door. You grab the handle and pull it open, the hinges whining. You cringe and glance back. You’re a ghost, you are air, you are nothing to them. How can that be?

Neither of them notice you. They are close, so close. You could stay and watch them and they wouldn’t even know. Professor Stark shamelessly reaches to hook his finger down the front of Lydia’s shirt, given a tug as he leers at her cleavage. She giggles and you leave before your stomach turns.

You don’t want to be like Lydia. Or Julie. Or the countless other girls who’ve passed over his office desk. You don’t want to be another tick mark. You don’t know what you want. You just want that knot in your chest to come undone. It’s a distraction you don’t need.

You could never be jealous of those girls. With their short skirts and crackly trills. You could never fawn over a man with that dumb look on your face. You don’t want to simper to Dr. Stark, you want to have a discussion with him, to learn from him, to witness his genius. Those girls signed up because they needed to fill a box and because they knew his reputation. You sat on the waitlist for a month because you want to be the best so you need to learn from the best.

No, you are not like them.

Your fists ball so tight your nails jab into your palms and your jaw aches from gritting your teeth. It isn’t envy, it’s indignity. They don’t deserve to sit in those seats, they don’t deserve to take in his brilliance all the while it slips in one ear and leaks out the other. 

You just don’t get why he humours them. You don’t get how they are his type. They are empty. They are dull. You might not have the experience but you highly doubt they offer much more on their backs.

Well, you’ll be there next semester, in Physics II and they’ll be off to their arts classes, learning verbs and writing redundant papers on the meaning of the colour blue. He doesn’t see you now but he will. How could he not? You are not like the other girls.

[oasisr]

When men neg you by putting down your talents, run. Things will not get better.

Even if you aren't good at something and are just a beginner, he should not be mocking you or bullying you for that.

I'm not a great singer or painter, but I enjoy singing and painting sometimes. My ex would mock me and tell me that he wanted to marry someone who could actually sing.

I gave him another chance after he hurt my feelings. He was good for a couple of weeks, and then went right back to mocking me and putting me down.

Just run. You are beautiful even if you aren't good at everything you try. You don't need someone to put you down and try to harm your self-worth.

You are worthy of someone who will treat you like you are a special and beautiful woman. Because you are.

[miasmultifandomdump]

It annoys me how so much of modern discourse around female characters is, to be frank, misogyny repackaged as being progressive.

If a woman's strengths and interests are associated with being feminine, such as cooking or enjoying nice clothes or being kind and compassionate, the entire fandom jumps on her as stereotypical or weak. It's seen as cool to bash on "women's work", never mind that your average misogynist has been doing it for decades, hell, centuries, and the jobs that are mocked as women's work are actually pretty essential to humans surviving and thriving.

And then, of course, if a woman shows the slightest hint of nonconformity, the entire fandom jumps on her because "oh!! she's trying to be not like other girls!! she wants male attention so bad!!" It doesn't matter how she is to the other girls in her life, if she wears combat boots and listens to punk instead of Taylor Swift, she clearly hates every other woman ever according to certain parts of fandom. It couldn't be that she's neurodivergent or LGBT or hell, even just a tomboy, she has to hate every other girl on the planet. /sarcasm

AND JUST TO CLARIFY. These tropes can genuinely be negatively done. The traditionally feminine girl can be a weak character and the tomboy girl can be an ass. But when you're calling a girl a "pick me" just because she doesn't live up to your idea of what a woman should look like or what you think feminism is... congratulations. You've simply repackaged sexism and called it woke. And lots of girls who see this crap online are going to suffer for it but hey, it was never actually about them, so who cares, right? /sarcasm

Anyway, to all the girls reading this post, you go ahead and be who you want. Be a princess or a president or a pop singer or a punk rocker or hell, all of the above. You're not a "pick me" you're not a "handmaiden" you're not trying too hard to be "not like other girls". You are fine. Don't let pseudo-woke nonsense get to you. It's just white noise.

[femcels-anonymous]

maturing is realizing that everything that you dislike about women can be traced back to men.

oh shes a "pick me"? why do you suppose she acts like that? isn't that sad, that a woman should feel such a strong desire to cater to men that she not only puts other women down, but puts herself down in the process?

what about those girls that infantilize themselves for the male gaze? as much as i hate girls like this, i hate even more that the male gaze is so deeply linked with pedophilia.

[d011zk1ll]

THIS IS VERY IMPORTAT

guys guys who loes who more

me

or

@itsynat

(GUSY PICK ME PELASE)

[nemfrog]

Sirens. Radio TV Mirror. July 1955. Print ad detail.

Internet Archive

[classycookiexo]

These are the men I’m most afraid of, they wanna break you down and put you in a cage. This also explains why they never go to pick-mes lol they don’t have to really go through a process of breaking them down to boost their ego, cause they’re already broken

[sunfyredefender77]

I need this man and his slutty little waist

[bullshxtvixen]

Thinking about virgin!zoro and how he just can’t fuck anyone cause his dick is just too big for most people to handle so he has to fuck his own hand every night 🥹

[happilychaengs]

[aidanisking]

Which box would you like to pick to take home too 📦🏠

[bluegladiatordestiny]

Olivia

[someoneintheshadow456]

This took a long time (and the quiz itself is long), but after so many years of observing toxic femininity on Hellsite, I'm finally able to give a name to this type of woman.

And yes, many of these questions were based on real posts on this site plus real life experience.