Tumgik
#celebrate mom
Text
Tumblr media
Alyssa Miano at 51. Still beautiful she is.
2K notes · View notes
bixels · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Jesus man, relax.
1K notes · View notes
tittyinfinity · 4 months
Text
I just remembered that up until 5th grade, all of the sports teams I was in weren't separated by gender. I played basketball and baseball with boys. And we did just fine.
It wasn't until 6th grade when they segregated it by gender. It didn't make sense to me. I was now in softball because of baseball, because "softball is for girls" and "baseball is for boys" (which confused me bc my dad was on an adult softball team).
Now, my brother's all-male team didn't win a single game. My all-girls team won every single one.
They presented the boys' team with this HUGE trophy, and if you wanted replicas of it, they were $30 each.
My team was presented with a very small trophy. Extras were $5.
That's when I decided gender-segregated sports were bullshit.
778 notes · View notes
cervicrazed · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Rumquila in the Applejack shot glass
593 notes · View notes
fob4ever · 18 days
Text
Tumblr media
patrick & pete, 2008
149 notes · View notes
todayisafridaynight · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
175 notes · View notes
satans-knitwear · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bit Fancy for a Tuesday, indeed 😎
Treat me ~ Tip me ~ More of me
397 notes · View notes
f1shart · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
brandi looking pitiful while skip broke presumably shakes his ass
Tumblr media
this image broke me
309 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
183 notes · View notes
delineate-creates · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
A Christmas sketch is all I could do today I fear
290 notes · View notes
tangledinink · 4 months
Note
new gemini update was so good as always but I can't stop thinking:
big mama: there's nothing wrong with my sons
splinter: you fucked up two perfectly good kids is what you did. look at blue. he's got an eating disorder
wwhhhattttt? nooo, don't be silly. leo doesn't have an eating disorder.
leo and donnie have eating disorders--
166 notes · View notes
cheruib · 3 months
Text
it’s the rainiest windiest day ever and im staying in bed and watching movies all day long.. <3
157 notes · View notes
ohbo-ohno · 5 months
Note
I love your work!! Congrats on 1k followers- your fics are amazing💙💙 May I request ‘country house’ and ‘something isn’t right about (setting). Something is off.’ ? Maybe with Price x reader please? (-:
1k game here - no more please!
i have an unreasonably difficult time thinking of a "something's off" for these prompts. but we write on nonetheless!
1.1k of price being your young daughter's "imaginary" friend. fair warning, this one doesn't have an actual price appearance, it's mostly just vibes. (cw for implied stalking/haunting, no smut!)
The big country house is your dream home.
It had come when you most needed it - your sister had finally gotten tired of letting you and your five year old couch surf and kicked you out with no warning, leaving you with only your car to live in and no prospects.
You'd been driving through a tiny town, only even heard about the house because of a kind waitress who took pity on you when you told her about your situation. She introduced you to her younger sister, a local realtor who'd recently marked down a nice family home to practically nothing because she couldn't get it to sell.
It had seemed too good to be true, honestly. The house is a grand thing - two stories, a wraparound porch, relatively new appliances. The price you paid - you negotiated down - was practically pennies.
But you don't have the privilege of questioning your blessings with a little one relying on you. So you tell yourself that this is just good karma, and you get yourself moved into the home as quickly as possible.
It's weeks later, from that same waitress, that you learn why the house was so cheap. Apparently a local man had been murdered there only a few months ago - a robbery gone wrong, if your source is to be believed, and an apparently very violent death for the poor man living there alone.
It certainly changes the way you feel in the house, knowing that something so horrible happened less than a year ago. The house still feels the same, but you look at it with the knowledge of who might've been there before.
You're... well, you're very lonely these days. You work long hours at home, holed up in your home office, responding to emails and sitting on calls all day. You only really leave to drop off your daughter and to pick her up, or if she wants to go somewhere in the city. If it were up to you, you'd never leave your new property.
And the house isn't small - you've never lived in a multiple story house, let alone one with no one else there. You can never fully shake the paranoia that someone else could be in the house with you, and you'd never know.
You remind yourself that you need to get a dog as soon as you can afford one, and try to wipe the nervousness from your mind.
When summer hits, you and your daughter spend most of your days at home. The house came with quite a bit of land, more than enough for a little five year old to amuse herself with on a nice summer day. You find that you enjoy sitting on the back porch with a cool drink and a book, keeping one eye on the story and another on your daughter while she plays with her dolls.
She doesn't have many friends. You'd worry, but she's always been a happy girl, and she doesn't seem to have any sort of social issues. You don't have the money to get her to a doctor, so you comfort yourself with the idea that she's just a shy child.
So you spend your summer, just the two of you. You spend an almost regrettable amount of time in your office with the door open so you can hear if something goes wrong, but you watch the small nest-egg grow in your bank account, and you tell yourself you'll make it up to your little girl by spoiling her later.
You only start to grow truly concerned about midway through the summer, when your daughter comes to you and tells you about an imaginary friend.
"John says we should play outside today," she says over breakfast one morning, casual as can be between mouthfuls of pancake.
"What's that, honey?" You ask, only half paying attention as you mix another batch.
"John wants to go outside. He's says it's a nice day. He doesn't like that you stay inside so much."
That makes you pause, turning to look over at your daughter. She's never known a John in her life. You have no idea where this is coming from.
"Who's John, sweetheart?"
"My friend," she replies, swinging her legs above the floor, happy as can be. "He was here first. We play together when you're workin'."
You blink at her a little dumbly. You know, logically, that John must be an imaginary friend - someone her little five year old mind has conjured in all her hours alone in the big house. But still, your simmering paranoia about there being someone else in the house spikes.
"Have I ever met John, honey?"
"Nuh-uh," she giggles a little, looking at you with an expression that says silly mommy. "John's not really there, mommy. That's why I gotta take everything outside."
You nod a little, your worry assuaged. It's just an imaginary friend - a perfectly normal kid thing.
"Well," you hum, turning to the skillet to start on your own pancakes. "I wouldn't mind working on the porch today, baby. You and John can play outside all you want."
It should be just that. It is just that.
Except... the idea of an imaginary friend eats at you.
As the pieces start connecting you tell yourself that you've spent too much time alone in this big old house. You tell yourself you need to get out, to find communities for both you and your baby to get involved with.
But the dots still connect.
You think of all the times you've heard your daughter start crying in the middle of the night, only for her to be giggling by the time you get to her room. You think of the night you were sure you left the stove on (you'd planned to make brownies, but gotten distracted while the oven preheated) only to find it completely turned off when you rushed downstars.
You think of the full conversations your sweet baby girl tells about John. She tells you he's tall, with a big beard, and a funny hat. She says he's got a nice voice and soft hands. She says he tells her bedtime stories, and that he has a funny accent.
You sit on the porch one night, and the back door opens behind you. Instead of the sound of small feet pattering towards you, there's silence. The door closes another moment later.
Your daughter tells you that John thinks you should spend more time with them - not her, with them.
The bed is made one day when you're sure you hadn't bothered in the morning. You'd been overwhelmed with work, had been too stressed to bother tucking in your comforter. When you go to bed that night, it's perfectly made with almost military precision.
You watch from the porch as your daughter giggles with her doll, dancing the little toy through the air and talking to nothing. You blow a cool breath over your mug, and tell yourself there's nothing there.
That night, there's a spot of warmth in your bed when you lay down to sleep.
347 notes · View notes
Text
.⋆。You’re My To-Do List。⋆.
Clark Kent x plus size reader
A break in the day’s pack schedule means that Clark is going to be in your pants.
Warnings: domestic fluff, mom!reader, implied smut, oral (f receiving), Conner is still Clark’s clone in this, car sex
WC: 598
A/N: I lost the request I'm so sorry!
Minors DNI
Tumblr media
3000 Follower Celebration
With five kids, three of which were just under two, it was almost impossible to have a moment alone with your husband and when you did, there was never enough time for sex. So when there was a 10 minute gap between dropping Jon off at the Wayne’s and picking up the triplets from daycare, Clark wanted to take full advantage. 
You were looking down at your shopping list, mentally going over all the things you would need for the week when suddenly the mini van swerved and you were thrown against the passenger door. “Clark!” But your husband wasn’t listening. Instead he was directing the car down an empty road off of the private lane from Wayne Manor. Once he felt you were far enough from the main road, he shut off the engine and turned to you.
“Take off your pants, get in the back.” 
“Clark no. We have things to do.” He pouted.
“Yeah I know, you’re on my to-do list. See.” He pulled out his phone and showed you his notes app, where at the top it said ‘to-do list’ with a simple ‘eat my wife’s pussy’ right under. You sighed heavily through your nose. Clark was almost glaring at you with a determination you had only seen him use in the most dire of circumstances.
Damn those big blue eyes. You glanced down at your phone and made a note of the time. “You have five minutes.” The click of the seatbelt releasing and his large hands on your wide hips were your only warning before you found yourself in the very back of the car, with your lower half completely naked. 
He nestled his broad shoulder between your plump thighs and pressed his face to your core. You sagged against the seats as he pushed the tip of his nose against your clit like he was trying to breathe you in. You tangled your fingers in his curls as you used your dominant hand to pick up your phone once more. The shopping list was slowly getting longer as Clark took his sweet time lapping at you but not doing much more than that.
“Oh remind me that we need to pick up some more laundry detergent for Conner, I’m pretty sure he’s been using your mom’s. And the girls need glitter from some project the day care wants to do. And Diana mentioned- ow! What the fuck! Did you just bite me!” And sure enough, Clark pulled away from your inner thigh where a nice deep indent of his teeth now lay in your soft skin. A smug grin pulled at his lips, the same grin that resulted in you birthing four big-headed babies.
“Will you just shut up and let me go down on you? I haven’t tasted this perfect little pussy in almost a month and I know that we both need it.” He begged and scooted closer so he could rest his cheek on your mound. “Please just forget all of that shit for five minutes and let me make you feel good.”
Your hand fell from his hair to his jaw, stroking the stubble that he hadn’t had time to get rid of. “Okay okay. I guess you’re right, it has been a while and we’re both a bit pent up.” He smiled at you, kissing the tips of your fingers. 
“Of course I’m right! Now let me get to work.” And then he threw your legs over his shoulder and got down to business. 
Long story short, you were 20 minutes late picking up your toddlers.
Request: Can I please request number 20 with clark kent, pretty please?
DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Join my taglist!
All works
@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @km-ffluv
DC
@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @Blackhawkfanatic
Clark Kent 
@minervadashwood @pretty-npeach @honkytonkbabe @nini-trash-forever @itsbqueenthings @darkscrossfire @lovelytricia @mandyzsick101 @batmaninamaiddress @getoutofthere @blasianbitch @differentrealities @theweepingvulcan91 @springdandelixn @luvvvjada @im-a-satanic-ritual @athena-roy @rosalietodd013 @l9ckheed @r0si5 @justanotherpasserby-blog @capsheadquaters @beautyb1ade @marvel-mistress @niyaaka-tojis1wife @lovelyy-moonlight @Azazel.M @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mewlingoizys @Originalsourpatch
374 notes · View notes
magicmooshka · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
XO Kitty (2023) as told through the distracted boyfriend stock images saga
can we get an F in the chat for Dae? He played the cards he was got; he was just dealt a bad hand :c
source image under cut
Tumblr media
393 notes · View notes
bemusedlybespectacled · 5 months
Text
"But what are we considering a 'nerd'?" Literally whatever definition resonates with you. This is about personality vibes.
232 notes · View notes