#and not once gotten the actual answer

[a-person-who-didnt-wanna-be-here]

Pov you’re literally only a week into school crying over math

[cherryfennec]

Summer Times

Hi! I'm finally back from my two week abroad trip!

[theaxolotlkween]

Silly little comic I made.

[dailyhtfboards]

boowomp

This is the face of a guy whose about to be called a fuckhead <333

(From TV episode 7B Hole Lotta Love)

[mocc-tok-flip-flop]

The submas brainworm is only getting stronger, so I have drafted a whole-ass comic for a new AU idea! One where Chandelure gets to take center stage and become the main character she was always meant to be~

The gist of the AU is that Chandelure has a ghostly soul-bond with Ingo, which essentially means that his soul is under her protection and he sorta registers as a ghost to other pokemon. Basically protects him from other ghosts trying to put their sticky paws on her trainer and also gives the two of them a bit of an empathetic connection. Not quite telepathy, but able to transmit complex feelings and lets them check how badly they're hurt.

Naturally, this means that when Giratina (who was honestly just trying to play around. They were given the tedious task of just opening rifts and looking through all those peep holes made them curious. So when they saw a soul that had a beautiful ghost bond, they became fascinated) snags Ingo and drags him through, Chandelure immediately feels when Giratina's power accidentally tries to overwhelm Ingo's soul and she absolutely loses her shit. Through psychically screaming and using her protective aura to try and bash Giratina, the distortion god acts like a dog that's done something they shouldn't and tries to hide the evidence of their messing around (Ingo getting fucked up via soul and getting not too gently dropped off a mountain).

I have more ideas, especially relating to how Emmet is taking his brother's ace losing her mind and how her actions affect the investigation, but if I keep going down these tracks I'm going to end up with another 90k WIP fic like i did with Naruto. (Though if people wanna see the AU written out...👀... I could absolutely be convinced. I'm very weak...)

[fakeoutbf]

.

[quibbs126]

Opinion on toast?

Honestly, I think toast is pretty good, but I’m a bit specific on my personal preferences

While I white bread toast is probably fine, I prefer my toast to be wheat bread; I just think it tastes better toasted than white bread. I’m willing to compromise with honey wheat, considering my dining hall doesn’t have whole wheat anymore, but it needs to be wheat

I also only want my toast with butter or on rare occasions, peanut butter. It’s not a matter of other spreads being bad, it’s a matter of me being picky, I’ll admit that

But let me tell you, wheat bread toast with a good spread of butter on it, especially when the bread is in that golden range of toasted but not burnt? Absolutely delicious, could eat 4-6 slices of it if I have enough room in my stomach for it

I do also have to admit I don’t like French toast though. I don’t like the taste

[mackthecheesy]

rip to the person in my dream last night who i was in a time loop trying to save </3 woke up before i ever could

[cannonfullofcanons]

@vankaarten inquired: Salty AF Munday Meme (ALSO, YES I MISS YOU, HEYO WELCOME BACK): ☀ What's your rp pet peeve? + ✿ What do you think about public call out posts?

the salty af munday meme || Accepting!

OH BOY I'M REAL LATE ON THIS ONE- also hi Cinbon!!

My biggest pet peeve in the Tumblr RP scene has got to be blog policing. Trying to tell other people what they can and can't write always annoyed me, it's just flagrantly unreasonable and unrealistic to expect everyone to bend over backwards for you. When you're navigating the internet, you curate your own experience and trim out what you don't want to see; that's your responsibility. You don't get to go harassing and making death threats at people because you saw something you didn't like, especially if you're in a space where that something is common. The blacklist exists for a reason, and if someone's not tagging their nonsense, well, the unfollow button is right there, y'know? It's exactly what it's there for. Going on a smear campaign because someone likes something you don't is so immature and stupid, it just irritates me. Conversely there is an argument to be made about expecting consequences when you post weird crap, but as far as I'm concerned that's common sense.

Public callout posts have their place, I think. When someone's doing some really sus or illegal things, I think they need to be flagged so others know not to get involved in their crap. But whole callout posts made because of a ship someone writes? Or because someone has darker/edgier humor, or some friend drama where they just don't like each other? That's just dumb. Unfortunately, that seems to be the majority of callouts, in my experience. When actually used to try and protect others & not just for petty drama, I think it has its place, but it really rarely is. Usually callouts are just petty.

[akkivee]

since hiphoppia and h era reformation are connected, i was thinking about what of rinka i’d like backbone to answer/emulate and a song based on these ideals i think would be fire

[vehemourn]

nausea forever

[ruelpsen]

Honestly, as someone who has been going through fictosexual attraction for years and also didn't know how to deal with it at first: Just write and think about the most self-indulgent bullshit you can picture. It is the only way to keep sane or so I've found.

Oh I'm already on it, believe me. In fact, here's a little snippet from what I've been working on...

"Are you... turned on by this too?" you ask. "I'm not sure," he growls. "I will admit it's not something I've ever involved in my... liaisons before. But seeing you so desperate like this is always sure to awaken a hunger in me. Or rather-" he pauses for a moment, burping again- "a thirst." With that, he kisses you deeply once more. You feel his fangs press against your lips as you moan with pleasure. You grip the back of his shirt as your hips instinctively buck against his, suddenly jostling his body. He abruptly breaks his lips away from yours only to turn his head to the side and release a short, thick belch. "Apologies," he says. "I didn't want to be..." He trails off, lost in thought for a moment. He eyes you for a second, observing the redness in your cheeks and the pleading look in your eyes. "On second thought, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" "Yes," you moan. "God, yes." "My, my, what a nasty little creature you are..."

[crownconstellation]

my parents are such funny people in the deeply insidious way that conservative parents always are. (i do not mean funny in an actual comedic sense, i mean it in an ironic / insulting one).

like ever since my stint in the hospital my mom has been fussing about making sure to keep my stress levels low because stress can affect blood pressure and how i need to take it easy at my job more. meanwhile while she’s saying this she’s - as always - loudly blasting her 48294884 deeply right-wing podcasts she tunes into religiously every single day and it’s like hmmmm. Have you not considered that maybe THESE and the shit they spout in them (and the rhetoric you and dad parrot in response) are perhaps a greater influence on my stress level than my job even at its worst

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon likes what you likes

Tomorrow I promise to get some requests in my inbox done 🤞

Whenever Simon was asked what his favorite color was, or favorite movie, favorite song, favorite anything, really he always had the same answer.

“Don’t have one.”

Johnny would roll his eyes. Kyle would snort and call him a grump. Price wouldn’t bother asking. But Simon never thought too hard about it. He didn’t see the point. Liking things—really liking them—meant caring. And caring opened doors to places he preferred staying locked.

That was before you.

Before you, with your endless lists of favorites. Your hobbies, your collections, the way you lit up when talking about a movie you loved or a book you couldn’t put down. You could talk for hours. And you often did— sometimes with him half-listening, half-lost in the rhythm of your voice more than the actual words.

And somehow, over time, your favorites became his.

That one film you swore he had to watch? He rolled his eyes, grumbled through the first half— then watched it again when you weren’t home. It was the way you recited your favorite scenes by heart that eventually made it his favorite, too.

The book you kept on your nightstand? He picked it up one lazy afternoon, expecting to read a few pages just to pass the time. He finished it in a day.

Still, every time you asked him about his own favorites, he’d just shrug.

“I like what you like.”

You’d frown. Just a little. A soft downturn of your lips that made something in his chest ache.

So one day, he sat down and thought about it. Really thought.

What did he like? What was his thing?

Guns. Killing. Tracking a moving target from a hundred yards out and watching it drop.

Right. Cool.

So he took you to a shooting range. Taught you how to hold the weapon properly. How to breathe through the shot. How to steady your hands and trust your instincts. He might’ve gotten a little carried away with the details— describing things in a way that probably sounded more violent than romantic. But you liked it. You smiled through the recoil.

You liked doing what you thought he liked.

But the truth?

He would’ve rather been at one of your pottery classes. Covered in clay, watching you laugh when he ruined another mug. He’d rather be curled up on the couch, rewatching your favorite film for the third time. He’d rather do anything, everything, if it meant doing it with you.

Because Simon didn’t care about the things.

He cared about you.

He liked your smile. The way you dressed. The way you smelled— so much that he started using your body wash without even thinking about it.

“Why do ya smell like cupcakes, Lt?” Johnny had asked once, squinting at him, nose wrinkled.

Simon didn’t even blink.

“Your bloody nose probably doesn’t work properly after all the times you’ve been punched in the face.”

He never told him the real reason. Didn’t have to.

He’d already made up his mind.

It was never about the movie, the book, or the smell of your shampoo clinging to his skin. It was about you. About keeping a piece of you close, even in the smallest, stupidest ways. Simon didn’t need a list of favorites.

He had one. Just one. And it was you. Always you.

[undyinglantern]

logically I don’t even think I’m doing horribly (the guy training me told the manager I was doing “pretty well” about handling a “mini-rush”) but mentally my mind keeps telling me oh he’s just lying because we keep getting out breaks at the same time and since I’m practically tailing him of course he’s say that to be nice during the only opportunity to speak to the manager. Only since I’m around and can listen in is he saying something nice.

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt’s tired of sharing.

Warning: Smut, p n v, dom Matt, cockwarming. Obsessive Matt.

With love and big tits, Rose

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Could you shut the fuck up and stop hogging my girlfriend?” The words had spit from his mouth as he dragged you back to his room. You hadn’t realized how much you had neglected him, not until now. 

His cock fucked into you relentlessly. The scowl on his face had only deepened as he grabbed your shoulder, pushing you down to meet his aggressive thrusts with an obsessive intent. “Fuckin’--ignoring me all day, sweetheart. What’s up with that? Hm?” 

Only shrieks and gasps of air escape your mouth. He’s so deep. There’s nothing you can do except try to grasp into his arms, clawing into his biceps as you try to hold off your release. You had already begged and pleaded. The answer was no. You weren’t cumming until he said so. It wasn’t because he wanted to torture you. The reasoning behind his hard dick pummeling into you at an ungodly speed was actually pretty simple—he just didn’t want it to end. 

“Matt—I—-I—” There’s a dry laugh that rumbles through his chest as he pushes himself as deep as possible, focusing on hitting the one spot so far inside of you that makes your nails dig further into his arm. He was finally satisfied. All day, he had gotten more and more frustrated watching you wander off, dropping his hand, talking more to his brothers than him. Not now though. Now he had you all to himself. 

“Yeah?” He slows down the pace of his hips, concentrating on digging his pelvis into yours. “I would’ve let you cum already, but you just had to ignore me, huh?” You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself anymore. The once languid drive of his cock falling into the same merciless pace as before. “My fuckin’ girl—supposed to hold my goddamn hand—fuck, fuck, fuck,” he seethes. “Cum with me, cum all over me, sweetheart.” 

Your sticky walls soak him in a tight grasp, clenching onto his cock as you finally let out a scream, letting the euphoria buzz louder in your ears as hot bliss washes over each muscle in your body. “My girl, that’s right—cum all over my dick…yeah, fuck,” he strains. You feel the warmth of his cum leak into you, trickling down as he comes to a slow stop. 

The sudden guilt washes over you as he pushes his cock back inside of you, kissing along your neck as he lowers some of his weight. “--’m sorry, I….I didn’t mean to drop your hand and everything today, I just got so—”

“Hey,” he cradles your head, “--’s okay. I get you all to myself right now, right?” You whine feeling him grind his hips into yours. “Just keep my dick nice and warm, alright sweetheart? Gotta be close to my girl—my pretty fuckin’ girl,” he husks, his breath fanning across your neck as he litters small kisses on your hot skin. 

“I don’t even care,” he explains, rubbing his hand along your waist, “---don’t even care when I get to have you like this.”