#I hate it so much lol

[piltover-sharpshooter]

TFW you like a reblog someone did on your post, and the notification pops for you.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

momlita

[shepscapades]

Contrary to popular belief etho and bdubs are not divorced and in this essay I will

[sunflowersinheaven]

quick codywan sketch before bed 🦶🏻

[heeliopheelia]

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 (s. jake x reader)

tw: somnophilia, fem! reader, unprotected sex, established relationship, pet names,

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

Laying on his back, Jake stares at the ceiling as another drop of cold sweat dribbles down the back of his neck. The ticking of the clock and your slow breaths are the only thing he can hear in the quiet bedroom, as he should be at three in the morning after all. 

But he finds it really hard to go back to a peaceful slumber when just two minutes ago you were straddling his dick and he was just so close to cumming. And all of those sweet moans of yours, the slight shaking of your thighs and the mesmerizing bounce of your tits – all of it, just to turn out to be a dream. 

With a heavy sigh, he turns to his side and looks at your sleeping self, so blissfully unaware of the armageddon that you’ve caused in his brain. His eyes skim over your bare back, rising and falling with deep breaths, and suddenly he’s reminded of how just seconds ago he was thrusting, and thrusting, and thrusting up into you so well-

Shutting his eyes tightly, Jake swallows hard and stays like this for a minute or two to calm himself. When another, tired sigh pushes past his lips, he moves closer to you and drapes his arm over your waist, hoping that cuddling up to you will make him fall asleep faster, so that he can wake up in the morning and fuck you properly sooner. 

Another issue he’s being faced with is that the night is so cold, and you’re just so warm and inviting, laying so prettily right next to him. The fairylights that you’ve left turned on for the night cast a warm light on you, giving him a perfect view on the fading hickeys he left on your shoulder blades mere hours ago, and now really, how is he supposed to stop himself. 

The twitch of his hard cock becomes more unbearable with every second and then he realizes – he just loves you too much to let you sleep in peace. He can’t allow for your unforced beauty to go to waste, after all. 

“My pretty girl,” he whispers, barely audible as his voice is still heavily laced with sleep. 

The shorts he’s sleeping in are already drenched and so uncomfortable to wear, so he carefully slips them down to discard them on the floor, right next to where all of your clothes from last night are resting as well.

He lets his impatient hands wander to admire your curves, and a low grunt rips out of his throat as his erection grazes against your thighs by accident. 

He’s an asshole – he knows it. But not that big of an asshole to enjoy all of this without you. So, instead, he settles on rubbing his hard cock against your perked ass, biting his lip with the first touch of your plush skin. 

“Need you s’ bad,” he mutters, leaning forward to pepper your neck with small, sloppy kisses. 

One of his hands drifts to your chest. Whatever shame he might or might not have been fighting against moments ago, it all goes away when the glimpse of your quiet moan sounds through the room the second his hand touches the soft swell of your breast. 

Jake’s lips twitch up with a smile, and now without really holding back, he rolls his hips over your ass, letting his fingers rub and gently pinch around your hardening nipple. His other hand slips down to your pussy and a louder whine comes out of your throat when his thumb finds your clit.

“Knew you’re gonna like it,” he chuckles raspily into your neck. 

His cock finds a perfect place to slot against you, thrusts growing more desperate and less cautious as the release he’s been craving for so long has finally started building up again. 

He hugs you close to his chest, panting against your skin as he humps you like a pillow. Warm hand groping your tits, his tongue lays flat and licks up your neck, finishing at your jaw and nibbling underneath the bone. 

You begin to squirm underneath his touch just as you begin to get wetter, and still in your sleep, you push your ass back into his pelvis. He feels so dirty, but too good to stop too, thriving off the idea that he can make you come even in your sleep. Jake loves that you need him just as much as he needs you.

Rocking his hips into you, your boyfriend is careful not to move you around too much, after all waking you up would make him feel guiltier than he already is. His precum soon smears all over your ass, his big hand pressing harder onto your clit in desperation to make you wetter. 

And when he can finally hear the longed for filthy squelching underneath his fingertips, he breathes out and kisses your shoulder. 

“Just the tip, baby. I promise.” His hand hastily reaches down and lines his cock against your entrance. Slowly, he pushes his mushroom head inside, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Can’t resist you.”

Your tight hole jerks out a louder whine out of him, not expecting you to suck him in so well, and if not for his self control he would’ve blown his load inside you right then and there. But he decides to enjoy you, to edge himself for a little longer, sinking his red tip in between your walls once by once. 

Just the tip, he has to remind himself after a particularly needy moan of yours.

His fingers skim over your perked nipple again, then cup your breast in his hand and squeeze it gently as he can feel himself getting closer to release. But then you tense in his arms and warm release streams down your thighs suddenly, coating Jake’s fingers. You whimper, on the verge of waking up, and he smiles slyly with satisfaction that he actually made you come in your sleep.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs breathlessly. His eyes are focused on your perfect ass, hands soon following their lead and groping at your soft flesh. 

And then another pleased sigh leaves your lips and he just can’t help himself any longer, so he pulls out of you quickly with a nasty smack and taps his dripping cock over your ass, thick streams of his cum glazing your skin not even a blink later. His mouth falls open as his chest heaves so rapidly in comparison to yours. 

He can’t get himself to do much else than to fall back into the pillows and wrap his arms around you, pulling you as closely to him as it’s humanly possible. 

“Love you, love you so much,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “Promise I’ll reward you in the mornin’.”

Nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, he can feel his eyes starting to droop after the restless night. 

taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @dilucsleftshoelace @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @seongiewon @nichoswag @s00buwu @mon2sunjinsuver @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @criminalyun @enhabooks @antoinettenotfound

a/n: i used to love this the first time i wrote this but now it's just... meh... idek if this is worth putting on my masterlist lmfao

[graveyardcuddles]

Spawn fans: arguing with Ascended fans.

Ascended fans: arguing with Spawn fans.

Me, a true Astarion Enjoyer:

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[drivebypainter]

What’s this? A fan fiction written by yours truly?! Yes! It is!

50% of All Marriages End in Divorce by Teacat11

Rated: Mature

Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Fake Pregnancy, Queer Platonic Relationship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Obsessive Luo Binghe, Confused Mobei-jun, Tired Shen Yuan, Shang Qinghua & Shen Qingqiu Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence, Oblivious Shen Yuan, Awkard Kissing, Enthusiastic Kissing, Dubious Kissing, Delusional Thinking and Activities, Real Marriage, Happy Ending.

Summary:

"“Well it goes like this, if we get fake married it won't be suspicious to Mobei-jun or anyone else if we both wander off together to look for Moon-Dew Sun Mushrooms-“

“Sun-Moon Dew Mushrooms.”

“-and if one of us pretends to be pregnant-“

“WHEN DID PREGNANCY COME INTO PLAY?!”

“-then Luo Binghe won't hurt us, after all, he wouldn’t hurt a pregnant person or the pathetic husband of said pregnant person! Which means we could avoid having to die in the first place!” Shang Qinghua finished his explanation with jazz hands. Shen Qingqiu felt like spitting blood.

Or

Months after the Immortal Alliance Conference disaster, Shen Qingqiu learns a bit of crucial information: Shang Qinghua, the treacherous rat behind the disaster in the first place, is a transmigrator! The two immediately begin to work together to find ways to survive Luo Binghe's return and the subsequent demise of their sect and lives, and with few options and time running out, they come to a quick and easy solution to save their skins; get fake married."

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[puragranada]

Lesbians stay winning

[sp0o0kylights]

Grass is green, water is wet, and Jonathan Byers does not like Steve Harrington.

These are known facts in the universe.

Computers were going to take over the world, a “mobile” phone was being invented, and Steve Harrington had lost most of his hearing.

These were unknown facts--rumors even, if you will. Eddie had never seen even a grain of truth to support any of them. 

(Well, maybe the computer thing, but only because Grant and Dustin both had made a couple of convincing arguments.) 

So he doesn’t think about it, when his freshman gang up on him. 

Doesn’t even factor the “can’t hear well” thing in, when he was tasked (demanded, whined, bitched and moaned at) with helping them explain to Steve why going to the release party of the new D&D box set, located at a hobby store only a mere 2 hour drive away, was important.

Eddie’s not even sure how the little shits got him to agree to do it until he’s standing in the parking lot in front of the former King himself. 

“The store’s leading up to the release with a handful of one-shots.” He’s explaining, unsure whether to pull out the bored act or play up his court jester persona, and thus mixing and matching on the fly. 

He does not care if Harrington doesn’t know what a one-shot is. 

“They’re releasing the set at midnight. You have to be there to get it though, you can’t have someone else pick it up for you because they only got a certain amount in.” 

Harrington’s frowning (no surprise) but it’s not until Eddie is well into his spiel about how his van is already full with the elder members of Hellfire, and thus has no room for the freshmen, that he realizes Steve isn’t quite looking at him. 

Is in fact, looking over his shoulder.

Eddie stops. Follows Harrington’s gaze.

Parked across from Steve’s Beemer, is Jonathan Byer’s barely working clunker car. 

A handful of steps in front of it, and thus nearly right behind Eddie, is the man himself.

His hands are still moving, mouth shaping words silent as he goes, his gaze locked not on Eddie or the kids--but on Steve. 

Who turns back around as Harrington’s eyes slide right back to him. 

“And this is taking place next Friday?” He says, in that sort of annoyed but resigned way parents aim at their children. “After school?” 

“I’d like to go during  school, but the freshmen insist you wouldn’t let them ditch out.” Eddie tells him. “They had two separate arguments about it.” 

Loud ones, that had interrupted the game and given Eddie a migraine. 

Once again Steve’s eyes slide away from him, to Jonathan. 

“They’re not skipping school.” He says suddenly, a glare forming and Jonathan makes an annoyed noise. 

“They argued about skipping, they’re not going to.” He says aloud, and finally steps up so that he’s next to Eddie instead of behind him. 

“Munson slow down, I can’t sign as fast as you’re talking.” He adds, in the hang-dog grumble he’s notorious for. 

Eddie stares at him. 

“Can he seriously not hear me?” 

“No.” Steve and Jonathan answer together. 

“I can kind of still hear,” Steve adds, gaze returning to Eddie’s face. “But its more loud music or noises. I can lip read, but you’re also talking too fast for that.” 

Without pausing, he turns back to Jonathan and says; “Why can’t you take them?”

“It’s Friday.” Byers deadpans. 

Eddie’s not an expert on sign language, but his hands somehow looked deadpan too. 

He’s not sure how Jonathan did that. 

“So?” Steve snarks back. 

What follows is an argument that Eddie is not, at all involved in, mostly because he’s too busy handling the fact that Jonathan Byers has learned sign language, for Steve Harrington, apparently, and given the tone the argument is taking they still don’t even like each other.  

Eventually the argument ends, Steve throwing his hands in the air and demanding that Jonathan owes him. 

(Eventually Eddie will corner the ever so quiet Will Byers and ask why the hell his brother learned sign language for someone he clearly fucking hates.

“Oh they don’t hate each other.” Baby Byers would say, in that shy, quiet way of his. “I think they’re actually friends now?” 

“You think?”

“Well--you’ve seen them.” Will shrugs. “I think being mean to each other is kinda their thing.” 

‘What the hell.’ Eddie would think, right up until he stumbled across one of the kids sign language books. 

Byers the Elder, he decides, isn’t the only person who should learn sign language to chew out Harrington properly.

The pay off is immediate. 

Or at least, the pay off of watching Steve’s shocked face the first time Eddie signs something vulgar at him is, anyway.)

[ofswordsandpens]

thinking about a world in which RR actually committed to the path he set Percy on in hoo (wherein Percy has become jaded, angry, and resentful at the gods for breaking their sworn promises, is frequently sympathizing with Luke, is getting more and more powerful, and frequently losing himself to wrath) and instead of the subsequent Percy Jackson books being about getting recommendation letters, we could have gotten a trilogy exploring a fallen hero arc for Percy (that would ultimately have a positive resolution to it.)

[uncanny-tranny]

This might seem like an "old man yells at cloud" situation, but it's just wild growing up and being told how dangerous distracted driving is - how, at highway speeds, you can traverse the length of a football field (100 yards, 91 meters) in a matter of seconds - how one split second sending a text while driving could result in a potential fatal crash, and then getting on the road as a driver and being surrounded by billboards. Their entire purpose is to catch one's attention, so they're lining major roads, which tend to be highways. How is it that you're told how important it is to never be distracted while driving, but still being advertised to?

At best, this type of advertising is an eyesore to pedestrians and motorists and a general waste of electricity to light it, and at worst, it is an active danger considering they are there to advertise and therefore, must catch people's attention.

I'm not even against advertising in theory, but this particular mode bothers me so much and I hate how pervasive it is - especially in large cities or highways.

[ivy-saurs]

if you haven’t hacked your 3ds yet and you’re planning on doing it, do not install the latest update (11.17)

Alt ID:

Hello, 3DS update happened (11.17)

What works:

Luma3DS

probably most things if your console is hacked

What doesn’t work:

literally all exploits on 3DS Hacks Guide

If you have CFW:

feel free to update

If you don’t have CFW and want to install CFW right now:

Do not update. You will be forced to wait

[bioethicists]

'recovering' or 'healing' by starting to hate your former self + shame or mock others for being the way you used to be isn't actually very healing. you can acknowledge + be grateful that you have changed without transferring all your self hatred/shame onto others.