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#i love bullying men
mammonsrockstargf · 21 days
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It starts small. You honestly don't think much of it. Crows begin leaving you gifts in your window frame. It's pretty rocks. It's a small screw. It's coins and grimm, it's a button from a shirt, it's shiny beads.
You bring it up to Mammon randomly one day. He stares at you wide-eyed. "What, you mean crowns leave ya gifts? Sound ridiculous," he says and you shrug.
"I mean, I've heard about crows leaving gifts for humans before. It's not that unusual, but usually, the humans give something to the crows in return," you say, thinking aloud. "That's the part that confuses me. I haven't given anything to the crows, so why do they like me so much?" Mammon's cheeks are bright red by now, the blush going all the way down his neck. Your brows furrow with concern.
"Hey, are you okay?" you ask and he nods quickly. "Yeah, 'm fine, gotta-go-see-ya! " he stutters and quickly leaves you, practically running away. You look after him in confusion. Weren't you both just supposed to be headed home?
The gifts continue. You get a single earring. At one point you get a small bone and at another time you get a tooth which leaves you a bit unsettled but also intrigued. You treasure every single gift, keeping it in a small box by your desk. You begin to leave the crows gifts in return. You find that they like peanuts and berries. One time you experimentally leave a big piece of watermelon, only to find it devoured within minutes.
The next day there's a pretty locket with what looks like a flower engraved in it. You gape at the locket and instantly put it on, proudly wearing it around your neck. You make sure to leave the crows a feast that day.
Satan is the first brother to notice it when it slips out from the collar of your uniform one day. "Is that new?" he asks. "Oh yeah, I've befriended a bunch of crows." Satan stops in his tracks and stares at you.
"You've befriended crows?" He repeats and you nod. "Yes. Why is everyone so weird about this?" A knowing smile creeps onto his face and he shakes his head.
"Why do you think the crows like you so much?" he asks. You hum, considering it for a second. Eventually, you have to draw a blank and look at Satan in defeat. His smile only grows wider.
"Ask Mammon. He might know."
You find Mammon in his room, lying in his bed. He smiles when he sees you and pats the bed, motioning you to come over. "Come here," he says and you do, lying down next to him. He huffs and pulls at you so you're lying on his chest. You can feel his heart beating and you look up at him through your lashes.
"Hey, Mamms," you say and he runs his hand down your back, rubbing circles into it. "Hey, treasure," he says and grins.
"Satan says you might know the cause of my new friendships." His cheeks turn crimson in an instant and he lets out something akin to a nervous laugh. "Oh, the crows, you mean?" you huff and playfully roll your eyes. "Come on, big guy, spill the beans," you say and Mammon sighs.
"So, the crows like you, because, well, I told them about you," he says and a grin spreads across your face. "Go on," you say.
"Okay, I have crow familiars, you know what a familiar is, right?" he says and looks at you expectantly. You rake your brain, remembering briefly having about it in one of your classes. "Yeah, it's like witches with black cats, right?" you say and Mammon hums.
"Yeah, kind of, but anyone can have a familiar and it can be any animal. The whole black cat thing is just something the catholic church made up." You nod in understanding while Mammon continues to rub patterns into your back. The beating of his heart seems to have become louder underneath you. "So what you're saying is you can't shut up about how awesome I am and now a bunch of crows are obsessed with me?" you say and Mammon hides his face in his hands. You giggle and pry his hands away, smiling at him adoringly.
"Please don't make fun of me," he huffs and you pout at his antics. "I could never tease my lovely little bird boy," you coo and Mammon groans while pushing you off him. He turns his back to you and you laugh manically. "Come on, Mamms, It's cute," you say and press soft kisses to the nape of his neck. "you're cute," you say and throw an arm and a leg over him, attempting to spoon him. You feel him instantly melting to your touch, completely unable to keep his resolve. It's almost too easy when he turns around again to face you. You smile at his pink face.
"I really like the gifts the crows gave me," you reassure him because you genuinely do. It's become something you look forward to when you open your window.
"You do?"
"Yeah, absolutely," you affirm and he smiles sheepishly. "I once tried to train them to steal money for me, but it didn't work."
a/n: thanks for reading! find my other stuff here <3
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hmmm-shesucks · 2 months
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Because I just love to torture the little guy, what if, when Lola took Neil, she also gave him a Glasgow smile. Really it had just been for fun, or maybe it could have been her signature of sorts; her victims always left smiling or some shit, but Neil wasn’t supposed to live, so it really wasn’t for anything but fun. But Neil did live, escaping and having to return to everyday life. Of all his scars, this is the one he hates most because he is permanently smiling. It’s not only his dad’s smile he has to hide now, but this, too, and the worst part is that he can’t. He can’t hide this. It's painful, and he can hardly talk, and it’s awful to look at while it heals, even worst once it’s just pink scar tissue.
For weeks after, only Andrew, Aaron, and Renee can look at him without flinching. Kevin can, too, but Neil knows every time he does, he’s punishing himself. Nicky cries, even though Andrew threatens to kill him every time. Allison stays stone-faced, but she never looks too long, eyes constantly drifting to something else when they talk. Dan and Matt are just devastated. Abby cleans him up when he lets her, but usually, it’s Andrew. He refuses to even step foot in the same building as Bee. Wymack benches him himself rather than Abby having to put her foot down. It takes months for the foxes to get used to it and years for Neil to stop hating it—just Neil with a Glasgow smile.
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periswirl · 1 year
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Golden Trio as Kents
Previous Next
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The Justice League was on edge. Well, they were suspicious.
Superman had been strange the past few weeks. He and the other Supers had been taking increased trips to Smallville. People had begun to worry something had happened to the Kent elders but after Flash had tearfully asked after their health they'd been reassured that they were as fit as ever.
Which begs the question as to why they were constantly in Smallville. Batman, as usual, asked his sons due to their close relationship to the Superboys. Damian and Tim were not helpful.
Though that did confirm that this was a non threatening civilian issue considering his sons had essentially laughed in his face (or rather they'd brushed him off which was the same in the Batclan, unless you were Jason or Stephanie who literally laugh in his face).
Eventually Bruce decided to bite the bullet and ask Clark. He'd held off this long because everytime he approached Clark buzzed with excited energy like a hyperactive golden retriever and Bruce did not have the energy to deal with that.
He'd come to regret his decision after Clark simply led him to the Kent farm and introduced him to his new siblings.
As a father Bruce loved his kids. He did not, however, like them. It sounds horrible but while Bruce would easily lay down his life for his children without a second thought he would never be friends with them had they met on the streets, matter of fact, he'd cross the road to avoid them.
His children were mean and teenagers. He'd heard enough of their casual 'roasts' at galas to know that they'd reduce people to tears (and they had, on multiple occasions).
All of this to say, Bruce was horrified to learn that Clark had cursed his life with three more terrors who had made friends with his hellspawn. Now his manor was ground zero for even more shenanigans.
Turns out when many highly trained teenagers with a myriad of powers gathered together they caused mass destruction. He'd already bailed the Young Justice + the Kent kids out of jail six times and they were banned for life from every Olive Garden nationwide even AFTER a heavy 'tip' ( made at the begest Tim, Danny, and Bart. All three of whom were devastated when that didn't work.)
Bruce had started making a game out of pushing them onto whatever unsuspecting Justice League member was in the wrong place at the wrong time when they were in his care. Plastic Man had started diving through any avaliable opening when Batman walked by after getting caught six times.
But honestly as he sat with the Justice League watching them beat the ever-loving shit out of Ra's Al Ghul he felt a swell of pride for the group of kids who were coming into their own.
"Aren't they the cutest?" Clark asked as Sam curb stomped the man. The amount of side eyes he received from the rest of the League made Batman laugh out loud (read; quirk his lip).
"Hn"
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Taglist
@rosecinnamonbun
@overtherose
@blue-avis
@thatonegaybitch68
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stupot · 1 year
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I feel like, regrettably, this website needs a crash course in recognizing a particular brand of post about female martyrdom and suffering that is really, at its core, based on OP's views on a holistic level, a post about hating """men""" in disguise. Female anger is righteous and does come a from a place of personal and historical suffering, and should be expressed. I truly do think that. But I guess Tumblr's userbase sucks because then you go on these blogs and it's post after post about how men are ontologically evil and sex work should be criminalized and women are these broken shattered creatures unilaterally scorned by MALES with no hope for justice. Just the absolute most childish reductive way of analyzing misogyny in our culture that always boils down to racism, prejudice against sex workers, and transphobia
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chaoticas-hell · 2 months
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add1ctedt0you · 5 months
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What warms my heart about chengyao, is that these two broken men looked at their nephew and decided that they would love the shit out of him, giving him what they couldn't have
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ravengards-rogue · 3 months
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✧ barbarian + gender neutral tav, bottom/sub gale, top + dom!tav, gutting a fish, horny to horny tadpole communication lol 18+
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gale daydreams too long about the rough callouses on your hands on his skin.
you answer him in short sentences when he mentions them but he's come to realize this isn't disinterest. you just aren't one for talking much, and you listen to him intently. occasionally you'll remember something entirely arbitrary he's told you - and he'll feel his heart stammer like a boy in love and not a man of middle age.
he notices your hands first when he tries teaching you the weave. the times after, you're healing him because he's been battered relentlessly in battle. calloused hands - the kind of hands that wield weapons and massacre. gale has seen you rage so often, though he's never thought anything of it. you're polar opposites in all aspects but especially that kind of raw power.
(the story of them goes that you used to tussle with bears as a child. when asked to elaborate, you shrug passively. apparently all that matters is that you won more often than you lost.)
he likes your hands. your hands are calloused and scarred. all of you is scarred, but your hands especially. split knuckles and thick, coarse skin that's been split and healed with nothing but time. strong, capable hands that carry fresh hunt into the camp and butcher them close to the water so the blood can be washed away. his are soft and smooth, a calm life in the vibrant and advanced city of waterdeep has made them so. the most violence he's ever received until recently, a paper cut from an especially feisty tome.
gale spends too long looking at them. you notice his gaze, naturally perceptive. and gale - well gale flushes. he's leering, and his thoughts are all but appropriate.
he's not prone to shyness. but you're a little different from those he kept in his past. constructed with that sort of unfamiliar grit makes his stomach churn with desire that burns white hot. gods.
it's inappropriate - entirely. together at camp with a makeshift table and cutting board (a slab of wood, really). you're cooking together, and gale is watching you gut a fish. your fingers are soaked in blood as you carefully scale and clean skin. there's also a fresh body you've so morbidly carried for astarion to eat.
you glance at him, head tilted - brow taut with interest.
"something on your mind, wizard?"
"not particularly," he replies, trying to avert his gaze. you go back to your task, the barest amusement on your face.
"you're a shit liar." and then, as if you sense that you can't pull more out of him - he feels something electric brush against his spine. the tadpole, your tadpole. you reach out to him through it. the voice in your mind is entangles with his as he allows you to touch his thoughts. you never do so without being careful.
it's...oddly euphoric, makes his stomach feel honeyed with lust. a harsh way of speech coupled by a soft whisper. stop being lewd or you'll cook yourself on a flame.
it's an instant protest, though between you is only silence.
"lewd?" he says in a whisper yell. you don't reply to his exclaiming. nor do you mask your amusement. you're enjoying this. your hands make quick work of flaying the dead sea creature. the head goes into the soup. you dunk the bloodied carcass in water leaving delicate white fish behind, then you use a dagger to carve the bones from it.
the blood stains your fingers. even with the savagery you're always committing, your delicate with the flesh.
you press into his mind, a knowing glance at the way his eyes lock onto the gesture.
gale is hesitant to let you in again. you shrug.
"even if you don't want to tell me what ways you want me to fuck you," you say, low enough so that only gale hears it. "well. you're a bit of a lost cause on hiding it."
gale is so momentarily scandalized he just stops. a smile tugs at your lips as you look at him more directly this time. heat licks at his his calves, a little ashamed as he lets you in.
(the images conjured in his mind are imperfect but vivid. all of them terribly rough. his mind desires it more than his body, to feel the roguish warmth of your palms handle his limbs in ways so untender some gods would consider it against them. a harsh first around his cock or around his throat, thumbs pressing into pulsing heart. hardened touches rounded with tender praise.
fingers inside of him. gale laid out over your lap - tucked into you in some completely vulnerable way.
there's a single undercurrent desire, one for you make a mess of him and it's louder and more attention seeking than all the rest. the need to be under your thumb makes his cock twitch so hard it's painful.
he imagines himself spent in your arms, cumming helplessly. limp against the strength of your chest and arms. the thought makes his physical body shiver.
the idea lingers so deep in the recesses of his mind he wonders if they're being projected right.)
he severs the connection when the embarrassment catches up to him, waiting anxiously for whatever thing you might end up saying. there's a smirk on your face, a salacious little chuckle as you discard bones into a metal bowl fashioned on the slab you cut on. for an elongated moment, you're unreactive. it's so strange gale wonders if he might've conjured up the entire interaction.
you walk yourself around him to put something in the pot - fresh cuts of white meat, before you blow warm air against the back of his neck. he nearly jumps out of his skin.
your words are assured.
"didn't take you for a masochist," you hum, calloused palm underneath the velvet of his nightwear. he looks at you over his shoulder. you make it clear you mean every word of what you'll say. "but i'll fuck you however you wish, lewd wizard. try to focus on dinner for now instead of ogling."
with your task now finished, you place a single long kiss on the nape of gales neck before disappearing completely - slinking off into the night to wash your hands. gale feels blood rush between his legs as he clears his throat.
he grumbles as he waddles over to stir the pot, skin painted with pink and feeling no less horny than before. "easier said then done."
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kreamasuzuki · 1 year
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I don’t think y’all understand— I’m going to be thinking about the fact that namor painted a mural RIGHT NEXT TO HIS BED of shuri beating his ass so he’s going to see that every morning he wakes up and every night he falls asleep
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lemongrass77777 · 5 months
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I will never be over the fact that Lily Potter was the one who defeated Voldemort in 1981 and she was never given proper credit for it in canon. We barely even know anything about her and she was the one who defeated the snake faced bitch the first time around. It drives me insane. Lily deserved so much better than what the books ever gave her.
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maddymoreau · 17 days
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Why is everyone in Fallout 3 extremely hot
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battlekilt · 1 year
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Promotion = Bullying
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Clones do not want to be promoted. No, no sir, they do not.
Cody keeps promising—aka, threatening—Rex with the rank that he should be as the XO of a Clone Legion.
Senior Commander Rex?
By Fett's headless corpse, Cody better not!
He is.
He's a Marshal Commander. He's going to do it—he is going to make Rex a Senior Commander!!! He is going to get that ugly pauldron—CLONE GASPS!—(Someone has a genuine string of Kaminoan pearls to clutch)—off Rex's shoulder, and stuff a 'needle' on it. No, Rex won't be allowed to do like Bly. Bly is still a Marshal Commander, so, fine, he can do what he wants—like the way Cody is about his skirt? Yes. 100%.
Watch out, Rex. If Cody has to be a high-ranking Clone, and thus miserable, he wants his favorite brother to join him.
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salpho · 2 months
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Annnddd a zoomed in version. Also the original video
While making this shitpost I m,ade two other stupid things they'll be under cut as EXTRAS !!
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^ Searched his name on google turns out he's a PLACE .
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^ Also traced his head to get a feel for the shape and oh my fucking god it's long what the fuck . why does he look like that. Why the long face. I needed to make it shorter to actually fit his dumb head into the thumbnail what IS THIS ..
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sarahedmontons · 1 year
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some really self-indulgent sketches........................... uh
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Lati: Fuck Blade
Also Lati like a few months later: My boi ❤️
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is this what it feels like to get caught watching porn?? except the porn is blade and it's just me squealing anytime he BREATHES SDBCUSJVBDVJB,,
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bougiebutchbitch · 4 months
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Shanks sees the Cross Guild poster, goes through all stages of grief then immediately starts plotting how to fuck Crocodile so he can be 3/3, he might be a scrub but every hole is a goal, he even makes a slideshow and tries to get Buggy and Mihawk to give him cover letters recommending him for number 4 of the polycule. Too bad Crocodile isn't interested in him and actively hates him and is quite happy with his spoiled bratty clown he torments with his bitchy goth swordsman. What would Shanks even bring to the table anyway, whiskey dick? 3way emotional constipation? Buggy can become a portable fleshlight and dildo and they already have the former Roger pirate position covered with him. He gets soundly rejected then cries to Benn about it for a week.
yes. YES. Shanks is the ultimate slut. King cock. Prince pussy. He can do this. He believes in himself
Then Crocodile is like. I don't want no scrubs. Bye.
Cue Shanks crying 5eva
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honeydots · 7 months
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this is very late lol but i was working on a tea time drawing of these two a while ago and i ended up abandoning it... HOWEVER i still like my designs so i thought i could share them! :3c
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