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#inappropriate touching
snarky-badger · 6 months
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Okay, Men/Males/AMAB of Tumblr - here's what NOT to do.
Do not approach a female human being (AFAB or otherwise) - who is with their family (actually just don't do this in general) - sit next to her table while trying to give her compliments she doesn't want, ask to share her serving of soup, tell her 'oh I always wanted a bigger woman as a wife, they're sterner', when she declines, and then proceed to STARE AT HER FOR THE ENTIRE TIME you're there, and then, when you leave, tell her she's pretty and then RUB YOUR FUCKING MEAL RECEIPT AGAINST HER CHEEK with a creepy smile.
God I need several showers and some bleach.
THIS. This is why women/females/AFAB don't feel safe with men/males/AMAB! Because lots of you pull shit like this - WHILE OTHERS JUST WATCH AND DO NOTHING! (like my goddamn father).
I got to have a panic attack in a restaurant bathroom this afternoon. I did not enjoy it.
DON'T DO THIS. DO. NOT. DO. THIS.
It is not 'cute', it is not 'suave', it is not a fucking COMPLIMENT!
It's fucking CREEPY and GROSS!
And if you see another man/male doing this to someone FUCKING STOP THEM!!
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dinosaurswant2rule · 6 months
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I made the jump into Whumptober with updating my Loki fic with one of the prompts
no.5
pinned down/broken
Happy whumptober all!
@whumptober @whumptober-archive
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l0v3rwh0r3 · 2 years
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slightly inappropriate touching is hot.
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thecapitolradar · 2 years
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The Cawthorn campaign touched a lot of things it wasn't supposed to.
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copperbadge · 8 months
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The comment was exactly as unhinged as you'd expect from that fake username.
[ID: a screengrab of an AO3 comment notification for my fanfic "A Partial Dictionary of the 21st Century by Captain Steve Rogers, US Army". All that is visible is the notification header, which shows that the commenter chose "ThisWhyIHatePepperFangirls" as their fake handle.]
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canisalbus · 17 days
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I see Vasco has a thin tail. My parents have a lab/terrier mix dog that also has a thin tail except I think she's numb on it cause she whacks it on absolutely everything and doesn't react at all. Like she hits it on every surface imaginable but still keeps on wagging. Does Vasco ever whack his tail really concerningly hard against things but acts like nothing happened?
As a dog man person who grew up with the tail he has, he probably has enough spatial awareness to be mindful of it. Even if he's bound to hit it on things occasionally, you'd have to be wagging pretty vigorously for it to bother you in any meaningful way. Hitting your funny bone hurts more.
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cry-ptidd · 4 months
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Babycard not liking/trusting men for obvious reasons and sticking to the women of Hellsing manor?
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Seras is his favorite.
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me-sploh-rada-imas · 4 months
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there's some industrial strength superglue holding these two together
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lanwangjihouse · 5 months
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suguruplsr · 3 months
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yall shiu and suguru KNOW each other.
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g0thnico · 2 months
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Nico, lying: So, what did you think of Italy?
Percy, next to him: when you said your room gets hot at night, I didn't think it was literally
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starlingdrawz · 4 months
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More aged up Wakkie stuff
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Commissions are open
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saintsinthecity · 2 months
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emeraldotter · 4 months
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hi boss
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cryptile · 20 days
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Happy train fucking friday everyone! Not doing any inappropriate acts to trains this week unfortunately, too busy being at the doctor 😔
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morgana-ren · 2 months
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What would gortash and Durge be like in bed?? I always like to imagine a on the path to redemption Durge, who is perhaps slightly more submissive now than they were. Allowing Gortash to absolutely be the rough dominating tyrant he is. No touching, no whimpering, no begging no nothing without his permission. Sit there in some tacky gold chains and warm his cock. If he ever so much as feels that cunt of yours twitch he's denying you for the rest of the night.
Be a good girl, get on your knees under his desk and Open that mouth. let him rest his cock on your tongue while he does some paperwork. Ah ah, no noise, no swallowing, he needs to concentrate.
I think before the mindflayer parasite there whole dynamic was alot more blood and teeth, both fighting for control, but now he gets to have them how ever he wants with all the control. Finds their attempt at being good a little pathetic but their memory loss makes them oh so vulnerable and gives him the perfect opportunity to sink those manipulative claws deep.
They wouldn't drop to their knees for him then, but they will now. He'll make sure of it.
Oh, before the parasite? It would have been a show.
Two powerhouses; the deserved chosen and avatars of Gods-- Rival Gods. Sex is power, and it is a struggle-- it is a fucking fight at the best of times, and the bedroom was an arena between two titans vying for complete and total dominance. Neither would kneel or bend for the other. They would take and claw and battle for the right-- and it's always a stalemate that ends with blood on the bedsheets and one swearing vengeance for underhanded trickery to their cackling counterpart.
Banites do not kneel before Bhaalists; Bhaalists do not bend for Banites. Both command an unyielding air of dominance. Around and around and around it goes. You only get what you can make them give you, and boy, is it convoluted when two mortal bodies want nothing but to sink fang, claw, and cock into each other but the Gods looming behind them demand acquiescence.
Oh, it was great fun for Gortash. There's something simply charming about having a bedfellow comprised of stone and steel and iron will that would not bow before his command. A never-ending game where the prize is always just out of reach-- just beyond the slip of his fingers. He found his consolation prize on the occasions he was able to force her on hand and knee and swaddle himself deep in the confines of her tight, wet body, the furious fires of her rage only serving to warm him with every merciless cant of his hips.
--Yet, there is something so overwhelmingly blissful about the victory of finally cradling her newfound vulnerability in the palm of his metal-laden fingers.
Fire and fury and death incarnate though she may be, she is as a lost little lamb on exile from her flock. Her shepherd has abandoned her, and so she wanders back listlessly to the last place she felt known-- straight into his grasp.
She is a weapon, honed to a fine edge, and there will be matters to attend to later, but for now, he intends to savor his victory.
She remembers little of herself, and knows even less, but he is more than happy to fill in the blanks of her memory-- rewritten to his whims, of course. Poor dear, so lost and alone, it must have been terrible. Those urges that claw and shred at your insides, being shorn of your sanity little by little as it skelters lost behind you, blown about by tumultuous winds of your profane blood.
He will keep her safe and secure, his hand to Bane-- but she must do as he says. Doesn't she trust him? Isn't he the only one she trusts? The only constant she remembers even as her memory was cruelly lobotomized and hollowed away? Surely there is some part of her that knows she can trust him. Is that not why she found him again?
She may not remember, but her body certainly does. She no longer fights the cries caught in her throat, nor does she stiffen the exquisite arch of her back. She takes him without guilt-- without fear of reprisal-- and it is something marvelous to behold.
She is unchiseled marble; an eager, emphatic little thing he shall turn into his own personal work of art through tender hand and discipline. Her mind is a blank book and he shall fill in the pages as he sees fit. As he has cared for her, she too shall care for him to his precise needs. He will make sure of that.
There is something utterly intoxicating about taming a pure predator. She will take him into her mouth but she wouldn't dare bite down to gnash at his flesh. She will not snarl or snap as he wraps a hand around her exposed throat and squeezes. She will not retaliate with claw when he strikes her and warns her to watch her tongue. She only nods, raw need and desire exposed like a tender nerve now that her scales have been shed away.
The golden collar is a gift. A reward for being such a good girl. After all, she always was, wasn't she? She has picked up excellently right where they left off, and she is so proud as he clasps it around her neck. Never mind the chain, my love, it is there to ensure you are safe; that you do not stray too far from where he might protect you.
She takes to her lessons like an obedient pup, and she doesn't seem to notice as the chain becomes shorter and shorter still.
He could not have imagined the resplendence of the sight of her eagerly on her knees, looking up at him with doe eyes and a wet, slack lip, and surely Bane must be pleased as he feels glory lapped upon him as a wave washes over sand. Bhaal's only beloved daughter turned into a concubine of Bane. He uses her in every blasphemous way that his mind can conceive of-- and he is a man of remarkable mental capability.
He has become adept at penning a missive as he cradles her in his lap, and she remains hushed with a perfect, practiced silence as she rides him slow and deep. He cannot have distractions, after all, and if she slips and becomes a little too emphatic, he corrects the behavior swiftly. He is so terribly proud of her ability to take him well into the hollow of her throat, suckling and laving through his throbs. He is expressionless and cold and she has learned to tell from body language alone when to slow her wicked tongue and when to drive herself to gagging.
He had always craved to have her in unconventional ways-- ways she would not entertain when she was of sound mind, how degrading-- and when he now demands she bend for him and beg him to take her there, she does. Her squeals and cries through bitten lip are wondrous, but the way she begins to steadily grind back against him, coaxing his fingers to fist in her hair or encircle her throat, begging him harder and deeper and to make a mess of her is his crowning glory. He practically ruts her ass into dust, driving her into the mattress in his unrelenting lustful haze until the noise surely reaches Waterdeep.
This proud creature brought to ruin just to serve him.
His, his, only his. Any way he needs her, any way he wants her.
There are still bits and pieces of her inside her rattled mind. Dusty remnants of a malevolent, domineering life once lived. The way her tongue swipes across her teeth to lick the crimson from ivory after he 'corrects' her. The flash of fire in her eyes when he commands her about, ripping her back by the hair until she cries in ecstasy from his treatment. The snarl of indignance as he tugs at her chain, demanding she crawl on hand and knee to placate him--
--and he would have it no other way.
A prize easily won is no true prize, and the beloved blood of Bhaal is his pride and joy. She is a lioness, and he would not see her forget it. He taunts and teases her to snapping only to put her back in her place at his feet once more. He stokes those fires deliberately, only to suffocate them with his presence to remind her that she breathes for him and him alone.
His perfect pleasure vessel-- and perhaps more. It's so terribly hard to think as she whines and croons beneath him, demanding more and more of him as he withholds deliberately. His spoiled, bratty little cockdrunk darling has forgone her throne of blood to sit her exalted behind somewhere far more convenient and pleasurable to him.
Still, she must be kept in line. She takes far too easily to demanding. A hissed word, a few bruises and a bit of blood leaves her glassy-eyed and pliable once more. Open legs, open mouth, open heart.
Oh, her daddy would be so utterly humiliated if he could see the things the Banite makes her scream for. Sometimes, Gortash hopes he can.
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