#and it is nooot good for me

[canongf]

it is genuinely so good for me to have eddie, who does not care about carbs or calories, doesn’t pay attention to the scale, doesn’t assign moral values to food. i say ‘are you hungry’ and he says ‘yes.’ so we get dairy queen. and everything’s fine.

[wyrmwright]

Happy Pride Wrath Month

[ryllen]

I have never ventured to the side of wanting to romance unromanceable NPC before,

but isn't Wei kind of a marriage material ?

[lucabyte]

Hohohohohohohohoooooo!!! Items aquired.....

Now to make some more designs now that I know how the process goes... Entirely OC items for my own amusement though, of course.

[keeps-ache]

i have a new hobby!! i listen to my playlist and say things like 'oh this goes hard' 'it just can't miss' 'it's so good, you have no idea' to my brother who cannot listen to it bc i am wearing headphones lmaoo

[topsyturvy-turtely]

"i forgive you"

"i FoRgiVe yOu"?!???

"I FORGIVE YOU"????!!!!!!?

what the fucked up heaven and hell was that, aziraphale?!

[shoechoe]

also no offense but a lot of the time you can really easily tell when an IHNMAIMS fan knows nothing about harlan ellison or his other work

[despertara]

Irene bro if you see this I want you to know I've been podcasting (talking loudly and emphatically to myself) abt that Grammy Gun post for Hours. I started ranting in the rb tags and then I got so mad I started a spreadsheet on my phone Yes I have the Excel app. No I did not finish my tags

[hey-must-be-a-devilbetween-us]

having adhd is so fun and quirky

like forgetting my phone and house key at home this morning so i panic and have to get back before my roommates leave or i'll be locked out until they get home and my manager friend has to buy me a lyft cause i don't drive because i have adhd and-

very graceful disorder isn't it?

[verygoodlawyer]

You talking to Jesus is theeeeeeeeee most Catholic thing ever. Hope he ignores you.

⠍⠕⠎⠞ ⠕⠋ ⠞⠓⠑ ⠞⠊⠍⠑ ⠓⠑ ⠙⠕⠑⠎ ⠊ ⠺⠁⠎ ⠎⠥⠗⠏⠗⠊⠎⠑⠙ ⠺⠓⠑⠝ ⠓⠑ ⠁⠝⠎⠺⠑⠗⠑⠙ ⠧⠑⠗⠽ ⠛⠕⠕⠙ ⠺⠑ ⠓⠁⠙ ⠁ ⠏⠇⠑⠁⠎⠁⠝⠞ ⠉⠕⠝⠧⠑⠗⠎⠁⠞⠊⠕⠝

"Most of the time he does. I was surprised when he answered. Very glad we had a pleasant conversation."

[ineloquent-creature]

sorry, I just need to ask you a question about the piece in your header. I've written a poem that adopts a similar structure at the start and would like to know what name you'd like me to credit you with in the epigraph.

thank you for asking that’s so thoughtful! 🥺🙏

you can use ineloquent-creature! or you can use kairi h if you prefer that! both names should help people find me

also that’s so awesome of you! i’d love to read what you’ve written if you’d like!

the way i grow as a writer, is by reading & experiencing other people’s art so it’s so cool (and a little scary) to learn that i can do the same for others

thanks again! keep writing, friend!! 🫂

also my best moment ever my fave tumblr poet reblogged my quote 😭 i have it sitting in my drafts, forever memorialized

[redr0sewrites]

all the discourse and discussions about vi becoming an enforcer are so interesting to me bc like, yes, she is perpetuating a cycle of violence, but she has literally done that throughout the entire series. thats what makes vi INTERESTING, thats why i love her. not bc shes a perfect angelic saint who does no wrong, but bc she works for her own goals and is her own unique character. her influencing and assisting jayce in attacking silco's shimmer factory was most certainly not "for the good of the undercity", and while i DO NOOOT think she is the selfish vile character that SOME PEOPLE are saying she is bc of this decision, she is definitely not a saint either.

it just intrigues me how so many people are pissed ab it when this was literally the goal of the series the entire time, and honestly, vi never really seemed to care that much about the undercity, she just wanted things to go back to the way they were under vanders rule and be able to be with her sister again. i think it will be an interesting opportunity for character development, and i gen cannot wait to see how she justifies it to herself. i also cant wait for more interactions between her and caitlyn, and to watch them grow closer as they work together :)

anyways! sorry for yapping! just saying my piece lmao

[opsarethere]

you can’t tell me this wouldn’t be them as parents

“why is she goofy” “she’s nooot 🥺”

“she’s gonna like die 😳” “no, she’s climbing, she’s good 😌”

[kissitbttr]

ana babes, i'm stuck in the library studying my ass off but my thoughts always seem to go to fucking frat miguel between the shelves for a quick study break ☹️☹️☹️☹️

-sapphic loser

“i said no, miguel”

he whines, dropping his forehead down on the open book while stomping his foot down like a little boy earning a warning glance from someone who passes by,

“why nooot”

“do you even have to ask?! we’re in a library dumbass. control your dick for one second”

“how am i supposed to do that when you’re sitting in front of me?” he argues, “looking all cute and pouty.. makes me want to bang you all the time”

“miguel!” you warn with a groan, face heating up at his words, “we literally had sex this morning. twice, if i may add. i’m sure you can handle another two hours of you not being inside me”

miguel scoffs, his expression twists into something more looking in disbelief. as if it’s ridiculous for you to assume that,

his arms are crossed, leaning back against the chair with his knee bouncing rapidly. “this is boring”

“i didn’t ask you to come here, miguel. i told you to hang out with the boys didn’t i?”

“they’re being annoying right now”

you give him a look that says ‘and you’re not?’ which causes him to roll his eyes before pouting. “we can go do it three rows behind, baby. no one will notice”

his fingers reaching out underneath the table to play with the skirt of your dress. feeling his touch a little bit further and further which causes you to glare at him,

“jeez—you are no fun” he huffs, wincing when you knock his feet with yours. “i thought my girl would be an exhibitionist—but nope! i thought wrong”

“are you serious?!”you give him a deadpan look, dropping the pen on the table. “we literally fucked at your dad’s office at thanksgiving! that, and also the jacuzzi sex when we had had a ski trip with our friends?! you losing your fucking memory or what?”

that doesn’t seem to phase him enough, just shrugging his shoulders as he look down on your cleavage fingers tapping against the wooden table,

“doesn’t count in my opinion. there weren’t people there”

“god! miguel you are so—

-

“—fucking big, miggy!” desperate moan falls of your lips as he has you pinned against one of the bookshelf, “don’t stop, p-please”

yeah, you decide to give in to his suggestion seeing how it didn’t stop him from bothering you. letting him choose the perfect spot where no one else can see. thankfully, there aren’t a lot of people in the library so it was easy. the main task was to hide from the old librarian lady that never seemed to like the two of you,

his pants are hanging low by the hips whilst your dress is bunched up around the waist. full breasts spilling out of the cups making miguel feel dizzy at the euphoric sight of his girlfriend getting fucked.

miguel’s bulky arms holding you by the thighs as his cock plunges deep into your wet hole. his gaze falls upon your open mouth and down to your bouncing tits, leaning forward to take a nipple between his teeth,

“f-fuck, right there baby—shit” you whisper moan, back arching at the feeling of your sensitive bud getting chewed on. tangling your hands through his hair, tugging it

“puta madre you’re going to be the death of me” he comments with a groan, driving in a bit faster, chest pressing against yours as he tells you to hold onto him tightly. “didn’t i tell you this was a good idea?”

your eyes snap open, seeing that cocky smirk that quirks upon his lips. giving him a light scowl. “don’t be a fucking smart ass. you were just horny”

miguel chuckles deeply, giving you a long sloppy kiss on the mouth, licking your lower lip. “open wide, princesa” he orders with a small tap on your cheek. he grins when you obey him fast, tongue out. miguel spits his drool a bit down to your warm muscle, watching you giggle and close your mouth before swallowing it,

god, you’re so fucking sexy it’s driving him insane,

“almost there, baby?” you nod at the question, locking your legs around him a bit tighter. “fuck—me too—shit, shit”

it is far too impossible to contain your moans, especially you. which is why when you’re about to cum, miguel has to muffle your noises with his palm to keep the security and librarian coming to get the two of you busted. and it is irritating to miguel because he loves your noises. he loves hearing how good he makes you feel,

“cum for me, sweetheart—give it to me” he whispers lowly in your ear, one hand moving to reach the nape of your neck as his other still holding onto your thigh. he’a fucking you even faster that you feel the large shelf behind you is shaking quite rapidly.

“thaaat’s it— that’s it muñeca , oh fuck—fuck, i’m g-gonna—“

he cuts himself off once you both reach your high not a moment after. his cum painting the inside of your velvet walls as you coat his cock with yours. his thrusts are getting sloppy when he’s slowing down. miguel is trying to catch his breath as he watches your head falling back to catch yours. eyeing the beautiful sight before him.

he palms your cheek, thumb grazing against both of your lips making you kiss it. your eyes finding his and flashing him a shy grin.

“muy hermosa” he pecks your lips, “perfecto” your cheek, “mi cariño” one underneath the jawline. “and all mine”

his praises are making you giggle, arms circled around his neck as he helps you get down slowly and fix your dress before fixing his pants,

“i needed that, baby—thank you” you reach on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, but that doesn’t stop miguel from pulling you in to give you a real kiss. his hands kneading your ass. as if the fucking before isn’t enough. “okay, okay—baby—sto-oh!” you try to stifle the laughs when he moves down to kiss your neck, the stubble on his chin tickling you,

“can’t get enough of you, muñeca—shit—i’d give up everything for you, you know that?”

“hmm—even football and OBJ?” you jokingly ask, eyebrow twitching as you feel him freeze and pull away with a slight offended look,

“know your limits, baby”

[keeps-ache]

i need to walk into a field and just sit for for a while.. maybe forever hbfsh...

[talentforlying]

shit, he doesn't know how to do this without em showing him, first. when had he gotten so reliant? when had he stopped following every instinct he knows has let him survive this long and started following all the stupid, sanctimonious principles that em built a home for him out of? do this because, try this because, say this because it's good for him. didn't end up being so good for em when heaven plucked his feathers, did it?

okay. self-pity, corner pocket. sink it and move on. he sighs harshly at the apology. ' do it, alright? spit, swear, shove, i en't holdin' it against you. you've well earned a good bit of indulgence, in my book, so y'don't have to go being delicate with me. ' or maybe don't move on. or maybe move on, but try to make it bloody hurt.

' you'll find it. look, i meant what i said, i'll fix it. put everything back where i found it so you can pick up right where you left off in the daytime. i will fix it, em. ' there's a point of desperation needling in through the words, an embroidery hook seeking a place to snag and sew back together again. christ, he doesn't want to lose this thing they've had, would never have broken it with his own hands if he'd had any other choice, just one other choice. even trying to put it back together, he's breaking it further; ruining all of em's hard work in every possible way.

something twinges low and hard in his chest; there's something downright bloody sickening in realizing that emmanuel's putting on an act for him. constantine curves into the path of potential retreat and, haltingly, cups em's face with his hands, searching for avoidant eyes. ' mate, you are. honest. takes a load off my back not having to scrounge through the printed word all bloody day, and off me eyes. but you en't used to this yet, and you're burnin' out. don't want to make a mistake 'cos you're too tired to think straight, right? ' he forces up a reassuring smile, one that's almost convincing, and lets his hands drop. ' kip, then eat, it'll do a load've good. always did when you reminded me. '

tired eyes follow john to the kitchen, though his legs do not feel like they have the strength to carry him. well, tehey might, but he is afraid that should he end up collapsing it would just serve to prove the other's point futher. he's not fully resigned yet, though he is discouraged by the fragments of his research, what's left upon the table and what he lets go from the clutch of his arms. reduced to a pile of paper, with no sense or order. his head hurts just looking at it. he really thought he was getting somewhere.

the other seems apologetic enough, and though the angel is irritated and hurt, a pang near his heart reminds him that john means well. wasn't that the reason he decided to trust him in the very beginning? and later entrust his very own fate into his hands, though unaware? john means well. he is a good man. though rarely did john's being a good man touch upon emmanuel's personal freedom to do his own good deeds upon the world, previously. overwhelmed, he buries his face in his hands, elbows buried into the assortment of his former notes, hair forming a halo around his head through which no part of his face can be seen. for just a second.

"... i'm sorry, john. i do not mean to lash out at you." though he so desperately wants to. is it the fallen aspect of him or just the lack of sleep? he hates that john may be right. that he may be the more responsible one. that emmanuel requires taking care of same as only john used to do. "i was just... getting close to something. i could feel it. i- i might never find it again." anxiety clutches his gut in a fist of lead. the other knew how long it took emmanuel to get through a book, small letters and all. "but... you are right. there's not much to do about that, now."

when he releases his hands from his face it is no longer distorted with that betrayal and anxiety, he is trying his best to seem well-adjusted enough. "i really thought i could be of help to you this way." words spoken under his breath, almost shameful for their air of failure. his eyes glued to the floor, even as he gets up to follow his orders and go to bed. the glasses he takes off and drops on the desk in one swift movement.