#awkward thoughts

[user2213]

I’m not deep. I’m terrible with words, especially spoken aloud. It’s hard for me to convey my thoughts naturally. I’m awkward. It’s disappointing. Sigh.

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo learns something about himself 🏳️‍⚧️

Based roughly on this old post.

Bonus:

[Leo is taking the fact that he was born biologically female simultaneously very well and also not so well but overall he’s mostly coping with the fact that it was Draxum that just essentially gave him the turtle equivalent of ‘The Talk’.]

[bi-writes]

thinking about being the new addition to tf141. you are an asset given to laswell by the CIA, a timid little thing but your aim is always on target, and you are quiet, tech savvy, and you do as you're told. (18+, dark)

just how lieutenant riley prefers. he dwarfs you. the first time you meet, your eyes nearly come out of your head from how wide they go. he's so large, and you feel so tiny compared to him, and even though he does nothing but a disinterested once over, it is obvious to the rest of the team that you might just be his favorite.

it's most obvious in the subtle touches. when you're getting ready to jump, ghost comes up from behind and tugs on your parachute, nearly topping you over making sure it's secure. when you're getting ready in the back of the humvee, he reaches over and buckles your thigh holster for you when he notices the strap is coming loose. you nearly choke when you feel his big hand between your thighs, and you stare up at him with wide eyes when his pinkie moves up the seam of your zipper when he tugs his hand away.

and then the way he's on your six is unlike anything else. like glue, chest pressed to your back, his gloved hand squeezing your waist as he moves you every which way he pleases because you're so small to him, so easy, and he growls under his breath when he touches the curve of your hips or the fat of your ass.

maybe you might enjoy it if he wasn't so fucking awkward about it. if he didn't stare at you without blinking. if he didn't adjust his cock in his jeans right in front of you. if he didn't grip you by the back of your head, tugging you any way he wanted as if scolding a kitten using the scruff of their neck.

you think the team would notice by now--that they would step in, tell ghost to back off, but they turn a blind eye. they tolerate this behavior, and you don't know if it's because ghost is so good at his job, they don't want to, or that they are so afraid of him, they refuse to say anything.

or maybe they approve. maybe it keeps ghost at bay. maybe it keeps a lion in his den. a spider in its nest. maybe indulging ghost in his fucked form of flirting and socialization is what keeps the foundations of this team right where it needs to be--and you realize, slowly, that maybe that is why you're here.

because ghost likes them soft, and they need to put a muzzle on their dog.

so when you feel him in the dark, slipping a gloved hand under the blanket that keeps you warm at night, he is pleasantly surprised to find you awake. and even more surprised to feel your hand slipping the soft lace of your panties right into his fucking pocket.

"they teach y'that 'n basic training? how ta give y'r knickers to y'r lieutenant, eh?"

"no," you whisper, and when you meet his eyes in the dark, he looks so hungry. he's untamed, no training, he's used to getting what he wants with no resistance. you turn over in bed, and you don't get to see the way he sucks on his teeth when you let your knees fall, revealing the pretty place between your thighs, soft and puffy and wet, just waiting for a good mutt to eat her up. "but i learned other things."

"tha' right?"

"yeah," you say softly, and you turn over onto your stomach, pushing back onto your knees right in front of him. he bends, leaning over until he's pushing his masked face right into the seam of your cunt, and you grip the sheets tight when he inhales deeply, a rumble following as both of his hands grip either side of your ass and spread you open for him. you're drooling, wetting the nylon fabric, and you gasp when you feel the wet, warm muscle of his tongue suck on your folds through the mask. it's lewd, and you're wetting the material so much it sticks to the strong lines of his face, but he continues, tilting his head to the side as he laps at the pretty slick that dampens your thighs.

"what'd y'learn then, swee'eart?"

not how to fuck your lieutenant. but...you did learn to keep them happy.

"h-how to be a good girl."

and you think you feel him smile.

[awkwardbros]

It always worked out in the end for Diego

[astrangeavenue]

drew some totally normal sadnesses

blank bg and individuals below the cut

edit: i posted some of my thoughts that went into these designs! if youd like to read you can find it here

[raynewolferune]

DC x DP Prompt: Bruce is bad at emoting but at least ghosts are empathic (too bad bat kids are not)

Was reading Twincognito on AO3 when I stumbled across this gem again:

~

" “Danny, Tim. I was just…checking in. Is everything alright?” Curse his inability to make meaningful conversation when it wasn’t a life or death situation.

They glanced at each other and shrugged.

Then Danny hauled himself out of the bed and walked over to Bruce.

Bruce tried not to let too much excitement show on his face. "

~

Now I really want to read a story where Bruce adopts Danny post Meta trafficking and is being his usual emotionally constipated self. His kids keep getting mad at him because he's treating their new meta brother who was trafficked poorly (generally being stilted in conversation with him, walking away hurriedly mid-conversation, avoiding Danny when he's feeling really awkward, etc). They think Bruce is discriminating against Danny for being a civilian, meta, dealer's pick, but really it's just Bruce being horribly socially awkward. Danny knows this because of ghost empathy and find the whole thing hilarious. The whole thing comes to a head with the Bat Kids staging an intervention in the Bat Cave.

[authenticity2025]

If it gets awkward, let it be awkward. That awkwardness is something they created. You don’t owe anyone a performance of being okay when you are not feeling okay so that they can feel better about themselves. Jennifer Peepas

[curiositeath]

in the au of my heart where everything’s beautiful and nothing hurts arthur pendragon would be such a Good Dad but he’d be so utterly Terrified of becoming his own father and stressing about it like fully going grey at the temples until finally fed up merlin is like “hey you wanna genocide a people?” and arthur’s like “no?!!” and merlin’s like “congrats you’re not your dad now hold this” and it’s a baby dragon

[shouyuus]

here's a thought:

bartender!vi x flower shop!reader

where bartender!vi is always closing shop when you're setting up right across the street from the last drop and she always sees you, pushing open your old fashioned french windows, an apron gathered around your waist as you set up the outdoor arrangements.

one of these days, she thinks she'll go over to ask for a flower (or your number), or just to buy you a drink. one of these days, she's gonna gather up the courage to do it. but today... she thinks she'll just content herself with watching (yet again), with wondering what your name might be, dreaming about if you'd smell like flowers, if your smile would look just as beautiful.

she doesn't know that every evening, when you're closing shop and the last drop is turning on it's lights and she's busy helping vander carry in the stock for the night, you're watching her through those vast french windows, wondering if her laughter is just as intoxicating as a shot of whiskey, if her eyes might be bourbon-bright beneath the haze of a busy bar.

one of these days, you think, you'll go over there and... say hi. ask for her to make you her favorite drink (or just her number). one of these days. but --

not today.

[awkwardbros]

It was at that exact moment Fred found out he was too sexy for the catwalk. Shocked from the directors announcement all he could muster was a faint “Right” in acknowledgment.

Fred did his little dance on the catwalk. It was his thing. How could this ‘too sexy’ thing be? Fred sat in a daze before recalling advice he received from Hillary Clinton after placing second at The Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance cat show. He needed to reflect to find the truth in his experience.

Thinking on it, Fred did wake up that day feeling like a glow stick. His new beauty routine was beginning to kick in and it was doing so BIG time. In the dressing room, Fred caught two co-actors and the director eyeing him while touching up his very brief outfit for the shoot.

This was the last thing Fred expected working as a model/actor at the ripe age of 23. Everyone knows your best days bloomed in high school or maybe… maybe college if you washed yourself in enough debt. Still, that was pushing it, and to Fred peaking so late in the game just rang strange. At 22, most of life simply slipped away for Fred as it did for everyone.

Did it though?

Fred felt like he might be losing his mind. He never questioned the facts of life before and decided to dig deeper. Admittedly, it was downright difficult for him earlier not to notice the mirror in the dressing room winking at him. How did he just toss that observation away?

“Oh goodness!” Said Fred as reality began to set it.

If Fred was going to be truly honest with himself he needed to accept the fact that he could not help but radiate this new raw glistening primal energy. It just exuded right out him…

Another faint ‘Right’ fell from his lips.

OMG. Fred WAS TOO SEXY FOR THE CATWALK!!!

The truth hit Fred like a brick wall. As the wall of shock began to fade, Fred then considered the possibility his growing and exuberant sexiness was spilling directly into his work. He banked three jobs in two days and his agent had him on hold for two more gigs the very next day. In his twenty years of modeling, Fred had never been so busy. The world demanded him.

With that, an elongated “Riiiiiiight” voiced itself and then a question. What else was he too sexy for?!?

Fred quickly scratched the thought. It was too soon. Way too soon. Fred needed to take the time to really process his being too sexy for the catwalk first. This was a BIG DEAL…

Fred stopped himself there.

No. No he did not need to process his exuding runway sexiness. It just was. No questions about it. What Fred really needed to do was to feed his cat Fluffy.

Fred failed to serve up the Fancy Feast that morning because his cat was in the most wretched of moods. At the peak of his Thigh Master workout, seemingly out of nowhere, Fluffy began wildly swiping left at everything in sight. It took her three full terrifying minutes to go full circle leaving a perfect 5 foot counterclockwise path of destruction smack dab in the middle of his brand new green house.

Among the ironic serenity of glass and green his cats jealousy materialized for Fred right then and there. Had this been going on all along? The dramatic image pierced every thought in Fred’s brain, and its first recollection sent shivers up and down his spine.

It was alarming to say the least, and the first and only time Fred was thankful Fluffy lost most of her claws at a dicey pet grooming salon with a “C” restaurant rating her previous owner took her too. Fred briefly fumbled with searching for an explanation, before being washed over in a stillness he never felt before.

Another soft spoken “Right” fell from Fred’s lips.

A wave of realization spilled through Fred’s entire being moving in from ground level then zooming to the sky straight out of his head.

OMG. Fred was too sexy for his cat!!

Well…

Fred fell silent for the next three minutes completely overwhelmed with enlightenment. This was just all to much. On the other hand, it did give a possible explanation for the missing hair gel…

Did he need that?

A deep breath was followed by a final softly blurted “Right”.

Another hard reality settled in. Fred needed to clean up Fluffy’s mess when he got home, and without a doubt the hangry factor was escalating itself by the minute. A wave of empathy highlighted his blooming emotional intelligence.

“That poor pussy …poor pussy cat.” Said Fred.

Fred paused and closed his eyes becoming starkly aware of a unshakable connection through mind, body, and soul. Unified and solid Fred opened his eyes to take in the world as the newly realized person he was.

Seeing the photo shoot already covered every possible sexy place it could go and then some, Right Said Fred left.

No reported sightings of Right Said Fred on a catwalk exist to this day.

Rain On Me ☔️

[eliangeldolly]

would never betray him !!

[rikan-oo]

To my rogue SY jiuyuan AU, where he is Peak Lord Shen's spouse and sometimes teaches disciples too.

Luo Binghe: Shijie, I think I fell in love with Shifu.

Ning Yingying: Huh? Don't worry, A-Luo. It's only a phase! Everyone here had a crush on Shifu. Consider it second initiation.

Luo Binghe: Everyone?

Ning Yingying: We have a secret club too. Here people help each process feelings and appreciate Shifu.

Luo Binghe: And did it work?

Ning Yingying: Well... don't worry about it. Like Shifu says it's all about journey and all friends we made. And unless you're Liu-shishu, it will pass. Are you in or not?

Luo Binghe: ... Of course

[roguerambles]

Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus: "Lord Zeus, you repeatedly broke your marriage vows, having numerous affairs, including with your son's wife--"

Ares: "Wait, what?!"

Hera: "I FUCKING KNEW IT--"

Zeus: "...."

Reader: "Oh, great--"

Hades: *sips wine*

Ares: "You've been fucking my FATHER?!"

Reader: "I don't know what you're yelling at me for, you've been bedding Aphrodite our entire marriage!"

Aphrodite: "I'd rather not be involved in this, thank you--"

Hermes: "I think it's a little late for that, don't you?"

Ares: "THAT'S NOT THE SAME--"

Reader: "HOW IN THE UNDERWORLD IS IT NOT--?"

Minos: "....if we could perhaps focus on--"

Courtroom full of yelling Gods: "NOT NOW."

Zeus: "....I'm going to Tartarus, aren't I?"

Hades: *sips wine*

[tunamayojazz]

inuokkotober 2024

prompt: height

(it's their first week as boyfriends and yuta can't compute)

[sillycillcillycill]

Sargeant Major Rodolfo Parra commanding orders to the vaqueros with a ferm and strong tone of voice. Every order being sharp and precise, leaving no room for arguments. Professional. Brash. Strict.

Colonel Alejandro Vargas having to lock himself in his office to relieve himself because the way Rudy sounds when barking orders is almost similar to when he gets pinned down in their bedroom, or a closet, or anywhere. The same low, authoritative voice that leaves him weak in the knees and has his pants a bit too tight for his liking

[wombywoo]

clingy 👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨