#[sighhhhhhhh]

[blossoms-and-petrichor]

[sonacava]

pretty idiot man <3

[automatonwithautonomy]

isn't it boring to you? making stories all about the romance? ignoring the platonic and familial and literally just anything that isn't shipping? i adore relationship and character driven narratives but, god, aren't you tired?

[mgu-h]

lando nostalgia 27/? • nov 2019 • official driver press conference

[starrbright]

Haven

I had a really shit day yesterday, so.....this is just me venting.

It eats you. It makes your nerves creep, it twitches and itches. And you want to forget about it. You so badly want to forget about it that maybe you'd do anything to have it.

That includes begging your man.

You were already home, just burying yourself in some chores that needed to be done in your home, or distract yourself with other things, be that as it may as the hours passed by of him still not coming home yet—that gnawing feeling still stirs you. No matter how distracted in the moment you were, when it ends, it comes back again.

So what do you do when he finally comes home?

The second you heard the door opened, you laid down whatever that was you were doing, your feet so light as it stepped on the floor but one could not miss the heaviness you were keeping in just to keep it light.

He could never miss the suddenness in your gentleness despite it all. Easily seeing through you. He embraces you back, letting out a low chuckle as he does so, holding you tighter as you bury yourself in his arms. A shuddering breath you make as you tried to let go of what burdens you. He takes it willingly, wholly.

Finding yourselves in your bedroom then as he gets out of his work clothes, there you are on the edge of the bed."Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks simply.

You love him, you do. You trust him, with your whole life, yes. You rarely keep anything to each other, very much so....But this....is different.It's just a bad day, you tell yourself. Just one little thing that you wish to forget.

So, "No." Is what you answered. "I don't, I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna think about it." You begin, mind and mouth threatening to ramble. You don't stop it. Creeping thoughts finally being free from you. "I'm fine, I swear....I just—a heavy sigh that leaves you immediately—"I can't get it out my head, I feel so fucking terrible, I didn't do anything wrong or maybe I did—I know I did even though I did it for the right thing. I still feel bad and a completely stupid person"—your chest heaving at that point, your voice close to breaking. His gaze never left you, as he kneels in front of you, holding your hands. You break. "I just wanna forget, please...I don't wanna think about it anymore, I can't. Please, just help me, make me forget about it, please."

He knows when to not pry even if it was for the sake of comforting you, knows when to only listen and utter his gentle assurances, knows how much patience he should have.

So for now, that's what he does. He makes you forget.

Kisses that began all too gentle and slow. He knew how to work with your mind. Knew what to do to leave you breathless, that all what you'll be thinking of is how you'll be taking your breath back without panting like a puppy. He knew just the right amount of force of him grasping your throat that'll make you gasp. He knows that keeping up his agonizingly slow kisses will have you feel your cunt leaking in your panties, knows that what you'll be thinking of is to seek for some pressure down there, knows that a second later he'll be feeling your thighs twitch and you're gonna whimper and whine for more.

And he gives it, but not before he teases you, not before he makes you beg, not before he makes you call out his name over and over again and again while barely giving you what you need, not before he's made sure that all of you're thinking about now is him, just him and all of him. Because all the long hours of night, to dusk till dawn—what you will only know is him.

—may or may not delete this some time soon. (nope)

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

ok new prayer request: i really don't like my job. it's basically three jobs run out of the same shop, and I am only barely making miminum wage. it's frustrating and stresses me out so bad that I keep getting headaches, which NEVER happened this much before. the reason I'm here is because it is literally the ONLY place I applied that gave me the time of day, and because my boss and manager and coworkers are super nice.

I want a different job. something that maybe I'm not doing three(3) different jobs and only barely getting paid for one(1). maybe something that's just ONE SINGULAR JOB that I can be confident in instead of feeling like I'm constantly juggling things running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I also want to move. I want to get out of my parents' house and out of this tiny little two-horse town. I'd like to try and chip away at my ambitions and I just can't do that here, no matter how much my parents try to convince me I could have a small career here and stay in this town. I don't want to. I want to move.

the camp that my church has done retreats at is hiring for this summer. I'd make just about the same or possibly a little more working there than I do at my job currently for the same amount of time. and it's something I would LIKE to do. it's something that wouldn't make me so frustrated or anxious I believe and it also includes the opportunity to learn some higher-level production technology and possibly a connection to a major regional production company, which is the industry I want to work in.

I have two main hangups right now:

number one, the big one, is that for the last several months, for a while honestly, I've been struggling with some thought patterns and temptations that are sinful and wrong which I keep slipping back into those thoughts, letting my mind and imagination have the reins, and the habits that fuel this sin. I won't go into a ton of detail but some of my mutuals know a little. I'm working on it, but I have repeatedly messed up and turned back to these habits and that makes me feel like I shouldn't work at a Christian camp, since I'm struggling with (in my mind) a fairly major sin issue. however the camp's belief statement does mention the importance and value of repentance and growth, so there is that

the second issue is that I would feel SO bad for leaving my current job. I've only been here 6 months and everyone has been so kind to me and my manager is having a lot of family and personal issues and I would feel guilty for leaving so soon.

but I have this opportunity, which could be a REALLY good opportunity in many ways and would be something that I find PURPOSE in instead of just getting through the day. I'm praying on it, and I'm praying on my sin issues of the last half-year, but I would like to ask for additional prayer here on all these counts, too. I have confessed (mainly to people I trust here, since it's stuff I don't want to discuss with my mom lol) and repented but I have slipped and backsliding repeatedly, literally up until this week. I do think that wanting this camp job is a good motivator for growth in this, though. i could just use wisdom and prayer and peace about all this as I try to figure out what to do. thanks 😅💖

[blindfoureyes]

Newt Scamander

[dsm--v]

pov: you are whizzer brown and you are going down

[februarys-wednesday]

at this party drunk as fuck looking at pictures of gale dekarios

[constantine-2005]

sometimes i just stare at this gif of brett while music is playing in the background and imagine he's dancing to that song

[ashipiko]

UGHAHSGAHSGQHSGW I HATE HIM....... STUPID!!!! TRAPPOLA!!!!!!!!!!! anyways time to run into the sun <3 bye guys

(KISS VER UNDER CUT)

[cleaverqueer]

I can do anything granted I'm procrastinating doing something else

[hawkfrostapologist]

goosefeather and bluestar like uncle iroh and zuko. you’re a foolish old man and i don’t know what i would do without you. you’re the closest thing i have to a father because my father couldn’t give less of a shit about me. you’re the only thing i have left of my mother. why couldn’t you save my mother. i hate you. i need your shoulder to cry on

[starrbright]

Wade The Gallows

December 14. I was going through a lot this day and I had the beginning written down almost immediately. So, bear with me. Two cups of tall coffees for this, damn 🏃🏽‍♀️

passage above is from Morgan Matson's Amy and Roger's Epic Detour

800 words. angst. mentions of suicide. all my y/n are afab, fat and of color.

mdni banner by @cafekitsune

"Hey." The softest of word one could merely utter gently to me and I'd be on my knees. A tug at my heart. I always believed that word is so gentle, well, mostly because I think it's a call for attention, but out of benignity. To pull you out of whatever you may be in but tenderly.

Whenever he says it, I melt. The word alone and from the man I let wield the power over me. I'm nothing. A breath of fresh air to me the second I feel I'm not of this world. That I live when I don't exist for a moment as I'm in his hold.

Such a word.

And the second he utters it twice, finally takes me back to present. The heaviness of his presence surrounds me. I wish it could always blanket me. Forever wash away what bites my being. Yet all is fleeting.

All the more reason for me to feel the shudder that crawls through my skin as his breath blows behind me, with his hands holding me close. To cherish the comfort of his concern through knowing silence before all is said.

"Speak to me." He says. Any other time, I would have been in his grasp to easily command, but of course--this is different. Still and always, with his hold on me, is what grounds me. "Please."

How could I have ever been so lucky?

How did it come to this anyways.

Suppose I have been too far in my head that I hadn't seen him seeing me, even as I stitch myself presentably, he can see all the threads behind in such a tangled and unfathomable mess.

I'm afraid there's nothing I could hide from him even if I want to.

And if there's anything I know truly, is that such blessings we could see surround us, must be honoured.

As his warmth surrounds me more, closing the distance behind us, coldness running over my body for a second from the sensation of being engulfed by his warmth. His arm squeezing me tightly against his chest as he feels it.

His face nestled in my neck, I welcome myself in his embrace, basking in the nothingness for what time could let me have, for as long as he let me.

And as I got myself out again, "Hey." He whispered, and I almost smiled and laughed.

I twined my hand on his where it lays on my stomach as I nuzzle my head against his chest. "Hi." Barely a whisper.

He squeezed my hand, holding me even more on him. "Hi." His hot breath almost could sedate me.

I don't speak after that but just remained loose in his grasp.

He keeps me together.

"Can I carry you to bed?" He asked. I wouldn't even have to answer.

There he kneels before me as I sit on the edge of his bed.

God, he has my heart.

"Forgive me..." I merely spoke, not meeting his eyes. Would it be bad if I hope he'd be angry? "Don't be mad." What a lie.

I'm not ready to see the hurt in his eyes. "I..I've been...thinking of killing myself lately a lot."

His hands holding mine turns tighter, I feel his gaze on me not breaking, nor even falter. "Will you look at me?"

It only takes once for me to listen to his.....plea.

It's not long to see the pain underneath him. How cruel do I have to be to feel solace in them.

Too much a human I have become.

It's only inevitable for him to blame himself but he figures maybe that would be selfish if he thought of himself first before you when it is you who has been hurting all along.

So he does what he think is best--to be there with you. As he always has been.

He doesn't speak, instead graced you with his lips on your knuckles, making each tender kiss last, never letting his eyes stray as he does.

There's something so to behold in the comfort we can offer with silence, taking a part of what breaks us, almost giving us a clean slate.

And I want to kill myself. I do. But I want to hear my brother's laugh more. I want to see my nephew and niece grow up. I want to see my friends more.

And I want to feel him more everyday. To hear my heart bang so loud in my chest as he slowly kiss all of my fingertips, each kiss so soft yet unyielding.

We're only human after all.

"Let me bathe you." He spoke after kissing your knuckles once again.

And there you were in the bathroom as he strips you off just after he drew you a bath.

There you were both under the water, laying against his chest as he's sitting back on the bathhub.

What more could I ask for as he hold my hands, flowing our fingers gently above the water, his face resting softly upon mine, with his heart beating against me, reminding me of my own.

A blessing of the many from being a human in this land.

"Will you let me?" He asks as he slowly free your hands to run them up slowly your arms. And you let out only the faintest of 'yes'.

I want to kill myself.

But I want to feel this more as he gives himself to me as I for him, each time.

[artdcnaldson]

Im sorry if this is too much but something you wrote got my brain scrambled and now i cant stop thinking about how patrick would react the first time you ever eat his ass like 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

This ask coming in the minute I got my Diet Coke for today 🩷

BUT

I think he just really gets off on how degrading it is for you, yk? Like that feeling that he’s corrupting you— taking you from the sweet thing that got all shy the first time he went down on you to being needy and debauched and depraved.

Like I feel like it happens when you’re already a little dizzy and lost in the pursuit of getting him off. In the headspace to give and give and give without concern for the soft, aching heat between your legs. Just giving him a sloppy, messy blowjob. Drooling around his cock, taking him so deep your throat constricts around it, gagging on him. Taking his balls into your mouth to suck on them, jerking him off in your soft, manicured hand while you do.

And it’s not like no one’s ever rimmed him before— He’s pretty fucking run through (affectionately)— but he didn’t think you would want to, didn’t want to push you. But your sweet little tongue is lapping at him, tentative at first, growing more and more confident as you start hearing the moans spilling from his lips. He comes embarrassingly quickly, like he’s a fucking teenager again, but you relish in it. All you want is for him to tell you you’re so good for him, that you’re a fucking pervert. He knows he’s corrupted you, he doesn’t fucking care anymore.

[ableedingpromise]

There r sooooo many games I wanna check out but I'd rather wait until I get a laptop instead of watching playthroughs!!