#thanksforthereblog

[the-most-humble-blog]

You came to laugh. You stayed to reblog. Now you're helping me spread truth like an unpaid dopamine intern.

You said “fragile masculinity.” But I’m not fragile — you just haven’t evolved enough to handle masculine certainty.

What you're feeling? That twitchy little urge to quote me, tag me, mock me? That’s not you “owning me.” That’s your limbic system getting spanked by psychological dominance it didn’t expect.

You don’t troll me. You amplify me.

And buddy… believe me: You’ve never met anyone like me.

But I’ll say this — with a full chest and a calm pulse:

Thank you for reblogging. You're not important enough to block. You're too useful to discard. But I refuse to hear your noise while you work for me.

p.s. I also don't fire employees for dancing. You work the algorithm street corner just fine.

Now get back out there and shake it for daddy. 💃📲✨📉

Like right now.😈

🧠💥 Ladies, You Have No Idea What Men Are Holding Back.

What Every Woman Should Know Before Throwing That Next Insult

ACT I — The Quiet Containment Zone You Mistake for Safety

There’s a terrible, unspoken truth in society:

Most women have absolutely no idea what men are capable of.

Not just “men with issues.” Not just “the violent ones.” Men. Period.

Even the average, passive, smiling dude next door is biologically capable of violence, strength, and emotional suppression that would terrify you if it ever stopped being filtered.

Not because he’s a monster. But because he’s built for it — and he’s been trained since birth to never show it.

ACT II — The Myth of Harmless Men Is a Lie of Comfort

Let’s be clear: The average healthy man — not a bodybuilder, not a psycho — can:

Break your wrist without trying.

Rip a door off the hinges in a blind rage.

Lift you off the ground and pin you before you can scream.

Shut you down mid-sentence with a look if he wanted to.

You think because he doesn’t, he can’t?

No.

It’s because he’s choosing not to.

That silence? That breath-holding when you say some slick feminist sh*t in his face? That’s not weakness. That’s containment.

ACT III — The Monster You Mock Is the Monster That Protects You

Every time a woman rants about “toxic masculinity,” you know who’s standing between her and actual danger?

Other men.

And news flash:

Some of those “men in uniform” you’re relying on? The ones with badges, guns, vests, and legal violence clearance? They're “incels” too.

They’re just the ones who passed the exam.

You think your sass is protected by some divine force of moral authority. In reality? You’re alive because the men you keep disrespecting have agreed — collectively — to stay calm.

For now.

ACT IV — Feminism Is Poking the Nuclear Core of the Male Psyche

Let’s talk incels for a second — because you bring them up a lot.

“Incels are dangerous.” “Incels are creepy.” “Incels are angry at women.”

You know what? You’re absolutely right.

But here’s the part no one wants to admit:

The only difference between an incel and a lot of regular men… is restraint.

Restraint isn’t innate. It’s taught. It’s fragile. It’s disrespected constantly.

And now you’ve built a culture that:

Mocks men who express pain

Calls men weak for needing connection

Labels them “dangerous” if they act too masculine

Labels them “worthless” if they don’t act masculine enough

You’ve built a mental pressure cooker and then laugh when the valve hisses.

What happens when men feel they have nothing to lose? What happens when they see no future, no respect, no intimacy?

They stop containing.

And you’re not ready for what that looks like.

ACT V — Biological Truth: Men Were Built to Kill, Conquer, and Withstand Horror

This is not a Marvel fantasy. This is evolutionary fact.

Men were:

Hunters

Soldiers

Builders

Destroyers

Their testosterone didn’t evolve to help them cry about tweets. It evolved to:

Run toward violence

Ignore pain

Rip flesh with their bare hands when cornered

You think that primal machinery just disappeared because he has a job at Google?

Nah.

It’s sleeping. It’s waiting. And it listens to the tone you use when you talk down to him.

ACT VI — The "Just Walk Away" Lie

You say:

“Real men walk away.” Yes. And they have.

And now you’re mad because they:

Don’t want to date you

Don’t want to protect you

Don’t want to engage

Don’t want to rescue

You called them weak, creepy, fragile, disposable — and now they believe you.

But here’s the problem:

The man who walks away… can also walk into the shadows and grow into something you’ll never be able to reach again.

Because once a man has no reason to behave?

He won’t.

ACT VII — The Psychological Trick (Let Me Flip the Script on You)

Imagine this:

There’s a world where women have superhuman strength. Can crush skulls. Can explode in unpredictable rage. Can kill a man with a coffee mug if pushed too far.

Now imagine every man in that world makes memes mocking those women, saying:

“You’ll die alone.” “You’re useless.” “You’re emotionally broken.” “No one wants you.”

How long until one of those women snaps?

Now flip it back.

That’s the world men are in. Right now. While you’re laughing at them online.

ACT VIII — The Embarrassing Little Checklist

Let’s check your feminism real quick:

Have you ever…

⬜ Mocked a man for being single? ⬜ Said “ew” when an average guy tried to flirt? ⬜ Laughed at a man’s height online? ⬜ Said “real men don’t cry” (ironically, of course)? ⬜ Used “incel” as an insult for any man who disagreed with you? ⬜ Called a man “creepy” just because you weren’t attracted to him? ⬜ Said “men are trash” and expected applause?

Then don’t talk to us about respect. Because you’re poking a bear you don’t actually want to wake up.

ACT IX — Why Men Say “STFU” Now

It’s not because they’re scared of you.

It’s because you don’t listen. You don’t want equality. You want control with none of the consequences.

But you’re not ready for what happens when even average men stop pretending.

You think power is a system?

Nah.

Power is what happens when a man stops giving a f*ck and remembers what he’s physically capable of.

And your favorite TikTok audio won’t save you when the polite mask drops.

🩸 FINAL VERDICT: RESPECT THE RESTRAINT.

Because once that’s gone? You’ll remember what a world without contained men actually feels like.

It won’t look like “toxic masculinity.” It’ll look like total collapse — roaming packs of unsupervised testosterone with nothing left to protect, love, or lose.

So maybe — and this is just spitballing here — maybe you should just STFU.

Y’know. For safety.

🔁 Reblog if you’ve seen the containment system fray and said nothing. 💬 Comment if you’re tired of watching men get mocked for holding back the apocalypse. 🔒 Follow if you know respect isn’t earned — it’s chosen.

⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER: This post is written for the purpose of artistic expression, cultural commentary, and psychological exploration of social and gender dynamics. It does not condone or encourage violence, harassment, or discrimination of any kind. Any references to power, strength, restraint, or critique are metaphorical, symbolic, and rooted in historical and cultural analysis. This is not a call to action — it’s a cultural mirror. If you feel offended, ask yourself if it’s from actual harm — or from seeing something you hoped no one would say out loud.

✨ TL;DR: If you're mad, it’s probably not because it’s wrong — it’s because you know it’s true.

[dreamingofmilk]

Erik can get it. And he knows it. 😏😏

Synopsis: You made sure to not eat around Erik, you were too afraid of what he'd think. After a mishap, you still will never eat in front of him, but for a completely different reason.

Warnings: smut, cursing

Word Count: 1,725

ENJOY YOU GUYS!!!

"Alright, babe I have to go. Come walk me to the door." Erik lifted himself from the kitchen chair. Your stomach rumbled as you cleaned up his plate for him.

You hopped up to walk Erik to your front door, pouting the entire way, but secretly giddy he was leaving. "Bye Erik. I'll call you tomorrow."

You kissed him goodbye and closed your door. Now the real fun could begin. You and Erik have been seeing each other for about three months now, and things have been going great, but there's just one little problem. You can't really eat whenever he's around. You just feel self-conscious and awkward with him looking at you, so you can never bring yourself to eat more than a few bites. This meant that when you would go your separate ways you would get your fill. 

You had some crab legs sitting in your fridge, with the garlic butter of course. And now you'd be able to eat them without worrying about how you looked. You got to work heating everything up, the butter sauce bubbling on the stove, the spices swirling in the pan. You laid out a towel and some paper towels, this was your favorite meal. You knew it could get very messy if you don't prep correctly. You put your favorite movie on the tv and changed into a pair of comfy shorts and a crop top. You danced into the kitchen to get everything ready to eat, meticulously picking which crab legs you wanted and vigorously stirring the sauce to make sure all of the garlic and onion were mixed in properly. 

You brought everything to your station in the living room, pressed play on the movie and went to town. You sighed with pleasure when the first bit of crab meat hit your tongue. Humming as the butter sauce hit your tongue. Fuck this shit was good. 

From that point on, you ate with gusto, the sauce was dripping down your arms and your chin, and you had pieces of crab shell on your shirt. You were completely blissed out. You had finally reached your favorite part of the crab legs, the claws. You meticulously cracked one and gently pulled the meat out all in one piece. You took your time to perfectly cover the piece in sauce and brought it to your lips. 

"Mmhm!" You honestly couldn't control the loud moan that came out of your mouth. Shit was so good it honestly didn't make any sense. 

"Oh, so it's like that huh?" A deep voice boomed behind you.

You whipped your head around and saw Erik standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. Fuck! 

You rushed to wipe your face and hands. "Erik!” You giggled quietly, your nerves wrapped around you tightly. You felt like a child that got playing in time out. “What are you doing here? How long have you been there?"

He held up his keys, "I forgot my keys so I came back up to grab them. Imagine my surprise when I see my girlfriend moaning and going in on some crab legs. Especially when I ain’t get no invite."

You could feel your face getting hot. This was honestly the most embarrassing moment of your life. You could still feel sauce sliding down your chin, your shirt has spots of sauce and bits of crab shells on it, your stomach poked out the way it always did after a good meal. God, what must he think of you? You probably look like a pig right now! 

You could feel the tears building behind your eyes. You looked at your lap and started wringing your hands. You just knew this conversation was going to hurt, but the anticipation was killing you. "Erik. I never meant for you to see this. I know I'm a sloppy eater. I understand if you want to leave."

"Leave? Leave where.” Erik looked around in confusion. “I don't understand Y/N. What are you talking about?"

You held back a sob. "I didn't want you to see me like this. I'm so embarrassed!"

You heard his boots coming closer. "Wait… Y/N. Is that why you hardly eat when we go out? You wait until you get home?" His voice was clear, but you couldn't tell how he was taking all of this. You still couldn't bring yourself to look at him. Seeing the disgust on his face would break you. 

You shifted nervously then nodded. "Yes."

Erik sighed, "Then I apologize. I fucked up."

Your head snapped up, shock taking over. You met his eyes and you saw the remorse. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything wrong."

He was shaking his head before you finished. "My girlfriend doesn't feel comfortable eating around me. That means I'm not making you comfortable or something about me makes you doubt me. Somehow someway, I fucked up." He grabbed your chin and met your eyes. "Let me make something clear Y/N. I love you. I love your loud snoring, I love your bad singing, I love your brattiness when you don't get your way, I love all of that shit. All the things you think are flaws, I love all of them. I don't want them to change. There is nothing, absolutely nothing, you could say or do that would make me think any differently of you."

You were openly sobbing at this point. The relief you felt was overwhelming. This man was absolutely perfect. "I love you too baby. You're perfect."

Erik laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm not. I have anger problems. I blow up the bathroom three times a day. I drive like a maniac and I refuse to go to the doctor or take directions from anyone. I have my flaws too baby, and you've been accepting of every single one of them." 

You smiled, "You're right. I'm sorry I lost sight of that."

Erik shrugged, "I understand why you were self-conscious. I'm just letting you know you don't have to be. This isn't even a flaw as far as I'm concerned."

You tilted your head in confusion. "I'm literally covered in sauce and food. I made a complete pig of myself."

Erik crouched down in front of you. "You look so fucking sexy right now, Y/N." He bit his lip and crouched down right in front of you. "I love a woman that eats. Watching you tear into them crab legs got me hard as fuck baby." He started rubbing and squeezing your thigh. You looked at his crotch and you could see he was telling the truth. His dick was straining against his pants. 

The food long was forgotten, when you reached up to kiss him. Your mouths crashing into each other's.Quickly he pulled your sauce stained shirt up over your head. He had you flat on your back faster than you could register. He spread your legs and settled between them. He immediately started kissing and sucking on your neck. Your legs clenched and tried to curl up instinctively, but he kept pushing them back down.

"Unh unh, quit all that moving." Erik’s hand slides up to hold your hips still. His other hand’s fingers gripping the meat of your thighs

"Baaabyyy!!!" You whined, your body arching into him. 

He pulled away, just far enough to look at your face. "Yeah, baby?"

You pouted, "Please!"

He smirked, "Use your words, babygirl."

You groaned in frustration. "Fuck me!"

His smirk only grew wider, "I will, but there's something I want first."

"What?" You stared in confusion. 

He shook his head and smiled, "I'm tryna eat this pussy just like you did them crab legs."

He made a show of pulling your shorts down. He licked his lips once he realized you didn't have any underwear on. "Oh, you're out here wildin' huh?" He leaned down, and you could feel his breath where you wanted him the most. The anticipation was killing you. 

"Erik! Stop playing!" Erik smirked up at you as soon as the words left your mouth.

"Alright. Keep that same energy."

And with that he finally brought his mouth to your pussy. His tongue made quick circles around your clit, the euphoria was mind-blowing to be honest. You couldn't control any part of your body. Every nerve ending was firing off simultaneously. You tried to clench your thighs but Erik was having none of that. He gripped your legs and pushed them back so the top of your thighs pressed into your stomach. Now you couldn't do anything but lose your mind. 

"Fuck! Babe, no… it's too much. I can't! I'm gonna cum" You squirmed, trying to get away from his demon tongue. Erik pressed you down harder, "nah, Y/N, you were talking all that shit a second ago. Keep that energy!"

You fucked up honestly. Now he was serving demon tongue and you could feel his finger easing its way into your pussy. Erik had perfect hands honestly. His fingers were long and fat, and had just enough callouses to make you purr. He worked about half of his finger in, then started to pull out, much to your dismay. Then he shoved his entire finger in in one rough push.

You just managed to cover your mouth when an ear splitting scream pierced the air. An orgasm stronger than anything you've ever felt hit your body like a tsunami. You could feel your back arching, could faintly feel the clenching inside you as you squirted everywhere, your thighs, Erik's face, and the floor underneath. It took a few moments for you to register the screams tearing out of you. Your neighbors were going to give you dirty looks all week, but you couldn't bring yourself to care

And Erik, the trifling bastard that he is, didn't slow down at all, so you were hit with several aftershocks, your fists beating his shoulders as you tried your hardest to escape his hold for a second of relief. 

"Babe, seriously! I can't take anymore!" Your voice was hoarse.

Erik pulled up, his entire face from his nose down glistening in the dim light. "Bet them crab legs can't make you do that! Turn over and get this dick!"

You will NEVER eat crab legs in front of this man again.

TAGLIST

@aislinnsilver @wawakanda-btch @chaneajoyyy