#not tagging this

[crazysodomite]

#not tagging this

[redpenship]

#NOT tagging this #redposts

[gunpowder-tim]

happy friday dont forget to fuck your trains today everyone

#rai.txt #jdbsmsvsjsh #not tagging this

[sqwdkllr]

People who interpret Baribal as fem presenting, YOU ARE SO GODDAMN RIGHT

#wip #my art #taking you out to dinner #how does it feel to be so goddamn correct #ppl who use she her on Baribal ❤️❤️ #ITS CANON TO MEEE #not tagging this #I am not so sure on this design #I wanna make it better without overcrowding #I also want to make it more informal #I’m studying so much furry art it’s genuinely helpful for different angles

[puterwantsyou]

#more of whatever the fuck this is #its waiting & its impatient #machinetag #not tagging this #suggestive

[nicofan57]

oomf asked me to post

#hi van #not tagging this

[animentality]

Never assume that female authors can't be misogynistic.

JK Rowling literally wrote the most appallingly embarrassing and vapid female characters known to humankind, and she's a woman and supposed "feminist." Every female character she had fell under 4 categories:

1) Dutiful and devoted mother

2) vapid girly girl who's a bitch because she's girly and she's hot and pretty but empty headed and hates books

4) a fat villain, whose main physical attribute is that she's fat, and also she's evil.

3) cool girl who's not like other girls because she's nerdy and/or a jock.

Then you have Stephanie Meyer. Who has insisted she isn't misogynistic because she would've written Bella as a flat and boring character even if she was male...and then when she wrote a gender bent twilight, she immediately gave male Bella an actual personality.

Like.

It's sad but.

But you know.

Women can be bad writers, lol.

Women can see other women as not people too. Women can be so vicious about other women, in fiction and in real life, maybe even more judgmental and harsh and callous than they'd ever be towards a man.

I kind of laugh at it because think of it like this...

Why did JK Rowling write from the perspective of a boy?

Because she probably grew up with the idea that she wasn't like other girls.

She had a working brain and didn't chase after boys all the time, like those other dumb lipstick wearing ninnies that were popular and cool and made fun of her in school.

So she wrote from the pov of a boy because she secretly thought I'm like the boys!!! I have thoughts!!! I wish to live vicariously through a protagonist who's a boy, and has his opinions and feelings heard.

Which is also hilarious in hindsight, because of how anti trans she now is. Like JK, my girl, my dude, what are you doing? You can't be a boy, silly.

And Stephanie Meyer is a Mormon, but let's say the reason she can't write female characters, or more specifically, a protagonist, is because she also frames the male as being the interesting one.

Neither of those authors could shake off the feeling that all women are bland and vapid and uninteresting, and men are the main focus.

And this was with vaginas, you know?

Shockingly...having a vagina does not immediately guarantee that you'll have any sympathy for other vagina havers.

Anyway.

This wasn't about anything, I was just thinking the other day of how female authors can be so violently misogynistic and it's really sad.

I admit I was also thinking about lizzo.

Being a woman...doesn't mean you support other women.

And when you are a woman, and you don't support other women...you're just awful.

#not tagging this #i dont care

[ladyhearthkeeper]

Men who need to degrade and dominate women to feel like a leader are actually the weakest version of what a man can be.

However a man who dedicates his life to protect his family and treat all living creatures with dignity and respect... Now that's a strong man.

#Not tagging this #Just needed to say this after stumbling on some joke of a blog

[oldstormyy]

remember to steal from the rich and give to the poor

#art #not tagging this #btw i did research and this costuming is historically accurate

[cloudwhisper23]

With a tentative smile, Evan sat up and tucked his wings behind his back to lean on Gregory’s shoulder. “I’m used to him being like this. I knew he’d snap eventually.”

“You did warn me…” Gregory replied, trailing off. “I just… I guess I forgot.”

“You had no fear. It’s better to back off. Mikey always gets the last word. And it always stings.” Evan sighed. “Can I ask what he meant? It sounds like he knows more about you than I do.”

Gregory kneaded into Evan’s shirt. “I… It’s not a pleasant memory.”

“You don’t have to tell me. But…” Evan seemed concerned. “You also said you didn’t have a family to take care of you…”

“Because I didn’t.” Gregory’s mouth tightened, and he hated that his voice was wobbly when he replied. All he’d ever had was Freddy, and then Michael, and then Michael had ruined that illusion of trust. “And then I did, and then he hurt me.”

“Are we your family, Gregory?” Evan tucked his head under Gregory’s chin.

Gregory wasn’t entirely sure what Evan was doing, but it was helping him stay at least somewhat calm as he tried to answer the question. “That’s not what I was getting at.”

“Mikey’s words hurt you, didn’t they?”

“Maybe. But they hurt you too.”

#crumbling this into a ball and throwing it away #aughghhghggh #i'm walking blindfolded #terrified of mischaracterizing #so this is NOT going into the story #cloud writes #not tagging this #bc larger audiences are not intended

[fourx]

#dokin art #not tagging this

[bizlybebo]

300 followers and i draw le frog in the dress. this is a threat

#not tagging this #but why are so many of you here…../lh

[pikpikpop]

me in the pussy if im being completely honest

#not tagging this

[gillipopmoji]

yeah i. made more trafficmojis

#not tagging this #ill tag everything on the reblog #oh yeah did i mention i made these for every color? #something is wrong with me #(it's autihd) #red heart #<- couldn't fit tag in final reblog

[rush-the-stars]

only

pairing: sukuna x half-curse f!reader (referred to as girl, daughter)

wc: a breezy 900 (unheard of for me)

cw: incest? it's not explicit but heavily implied. sukuna technically sired reader and she's a weird half-curse. but they're like non-human and kind of god-coded so. if that makes it better (it doesn't, you say? my bad then). use of "father" to refer to sukuna. toxic power dynamic.

a/n: um. look away. avert your eyes. etc. etc.

***

"do you think it's amusing to defy your nature? to defy me?" sukuna's voice echoes against cold stone, hanging in the air between you. sitting upon his throne, he is a god of death here, perched above the bones and rot of it all. the darkness whispers, slithering around you like phantom wings that brush your bare shoulders, your cheek. it could be the caress from a lover, the fading touch of a ghost.

"not amusing, no." you reply icily.

"do not take that tone with me, girl." he snarls, standing.

"not a girl," you reply bitterly, lifting your head, eyes glinting in the watery light. hardly human enough for that.

"don't test me." he snaps then. "and if you're going to stand at the foot of my shrine, address me properly."

"apologies, my lord."

in a blink, he is in front of you. thankfully, you are so accustomed to this, that you hardly flinch. except when he grabs your face in one, large hand. he squishes your cheeks. his claws arch around the bend of your ear, into your hair.

despite it all, you don't truly fear him.

his hold nearly shrouds your whole head and he pulls you up, closer to his dual-sided face. you lurch, scrambling to hold his massive wrist, to keep on the tips of your toes.

"that is not my title to you." his grin is feral, mean.

your eyes flash dangerously. your claws dig into his flesh—strangely you have always been able to mark him with little effort. ever since you were small, you were able to draw his blood.

"apologies, father." you spit.

(if you think about it, his own flesh rebelling, or perhaps—you, his only weakness.)

he lets you go and you drop like a stone, unceremoniously, and at his feet. you look up at him. the thin, slip of fabric you adorn swims around you in a glossy pool of ink. it falls from one of your shoulders.

"such disdain from my only daughter." he sighs, "such attitude."

his eyes—all of them—roam your form brazenly. the bare skin. the dips and curves of your body. you feel it the way a rabbit must know the feeling of teeth; sudden and frightening, and then altogether too late.

"such animalism from my only father." you hiss back like a little asp, "such—"

your voice catches.

he leers down at you, "such what?"

the word dies in your throat. you hate to name it, whatever he has for you, you hate to give it life. you hate that you can not, in such basic, human terms, encapsulate what he is to you. or you to him. you hate whatever this is. you hate what he is, or what you aren't. or could be.

you hate, hate, hate—festering with it, true to your name.

his very own little curse.

you hate most to let him win.

you turn your face away from him, chin up haughtily. "your lechery does not frighten me anymore."

"such a brave girl you've become." he laughs and suddenly all his arms are moving, reaching for you, and you've known them your whole life. he lifts you the same way he did when you were child. and now they linger, gripping the curve of your waist. the plump place of your thigh. "do you want me to praise you?"

"i thought i was here for punishment." you remind him, snippy and sharp, but careful to go lax in his grip.

when you fight and squirm, it excites him. so you play dead. you freeze like the rabbit, too.

he steadies you back on your feet. he stares at you for a long moment in a way that you cannot parse; all his eyes peering at you, prying at you, like they're trying to see under your clothes. under your skin. inside of you.

"for you, they might as well be the same thing."

he isn't even being cruel now, just honest. he's not leering at you. the frankness is worse, the honesty is damning. you lurch away from him, breaking the hold he has on you. your stomach turns. you bare your fangs at him, growling in warning, warbling like a curse.

he doesn't flinch.

"my praise of you feels like punishment to you, no?" he says lightly and you try to glare at him, but you fear horror is seeping through your expression.

he laughs again, rough. horribly fond.

"come," he says, turning away from you. he expects you to follow, "you reek of humans. you're done trying to live among them."

"you can't—"

"they'll never understand you. you will never belong to them." he says simply, and then he glowers, "and it's beneath you to try. come. i will not ask again."

he begins to walk. when you don't move, he looks over his broad shoulder, eyes darkening.

"they drove you out—they tried to exorcise you and i had to save you."

"it was only because of that six-eyes use—"

"i don't care. you should be ashamed and i should've finished the job for them since you are so weak—" he snarls.

(you—)

your head falls, chin dipping. perhaps in misery, maybe in surrender.

"now come, daughter of mine. you'll stay where you belong."

(—his only weakness.)

#not tagging this #nobody look actually #i just needed to write something sorta weird #had to get it out of my system #almost wrote smut but decided i was too tired #cw: incest #cielo's writing! #cielo writes!

[kodipretzel]

very quick low-ish effort sly

@sparklecarehospital

#not tagging this