#how fucking embarrassing.........

[drowningincaffiene]

god. that anon was probably saying they thought i was cool. god im fucking embarrassing. who the fuck gave me a wifi connection what the hell

[benevolenterrancy]

additional thoughts on why they had better stick to sword drills: Liu Qingge would doki-doki himself into a qi deviation and Shen "middle sibling" Qingqiu would immediately ruin his ~aloof immortal~ persona

[cyb3r-mutt]

Sometimes I think oh I could totally brat but then I remember that I fold like a cheap tent at the slightest hint of possibly being praised

[why-the-heck-not]

me, a responsible being, working on the coding project as I should vs. me, a dysfunctional shithead, getting distracted by reading about brains (once aGAIN damnit (it's my favorite "I need to study my field but bc I should do that it's an impossible unthinkable feat now, so I'm reading about something else to fool my brain I'm still being productive"-topic))

[u3pxx]

i guess i had to make with the kimchuck, coward

[soadscrawl]

i already posted abt this somewhere else but i was infodumping abt voltron to my best friend last night and went to rewatch the "i cradled you in my arms" scene so i could remember it properly and i paused right after lance said he didnt remember anything and im fucking pissing myself this is a man that is truly defeated like he wanted lance coming out of the healing pod to be like every fanfic where they have a crazy romantic reconciliation post healing pod and it simply did not happen. if i were keith here id flee the country. the look of simultaneous pain and confusion and emptiness is impossible to articulate. going thru every stage of grief at once. how they managed to fit this much anguish in so few lines is beyond me. and all over a man who listens to weezer and uses axe

[ladymostdeject]

The breakup.

[dipperscavern]

can I be cheeky and ask for riding jon’s face 🫣🫣🫣

yes… oh yes you absolutely can….. i fell asleep last night to the thought of jon snow canonically being a munch (funny enough) — we’re on the same wavelength anon ! (written w shy!reader in mind)

you’ve heard the talk, heard the different ladies from different statures talk about “the act”, and it’s always a different answer. some say it’s mediocre… others, that it’s their favorite way to feel good, and some, say it’s terrible. you’ve heard stories of men never caring about the woman’s pleasure, and how their only purpose was to give them children. the thought made you shudder.

you, yourself, have never had time. time to freely choose who you trust enough to share that sacred experience with (or even touch yourself). the men at castle black are sworn to celibacy, and even if they would abandon their oath for a night with you, you wouldn’t let them. most of the men at the wall are untrustworthy, and you want more than just a quick fuck. even if these thoughts plague you, you’re too busy with your duties to worry about it. a thing you’ve since long accepted.

until jon snow.

you had been there for jon since his arrival at castle black. never batting an eye at his surname, always trying to make his life a little bit easier. there was also the stolen glances, the soft touches you both passed off as “accidental”, the longing for each other. you both remained as merely “close friends”, until things boiled over and you found solace in each others lips. it didn’t go farther than that, the tentative kiss being soft & exploring, and that was okay with you. you didn’t expect more. until you got more.

sometimes, you hate jon for being so easy to talk to. your shy nature has slowly melted away in his presence, and you find yourself unable to be embarrassed about the questions you ask or answer. your late night talks are what keeps jon sane. he wants to know everything about you, and you both would talk till morning if you could (you have before). the topic often shifts, landing on anything and everything on the planet. even “the act”.

imagine jon’s surprise, when the most beautiful & endearing woman he’s ever met drops her gaze to the floor and bashfully tells him she’s never cum before.

jon short circuits. he asks if you want to. he asks if he can make you. and you say yes.

jon snow is a giver. tasting a woman is a pleasure in itself, and he’d tell you as much if you asked. his mind ran a million miles an hour, thinking about all the ways he could make you feel good. it doesn’t take long before the desire to taste you takes a hold of him, and so he does.

“You’re hovering.”

he’s not wrong. you are. you thought you had heard it all, but the act of sitting on someone’s face has clearly alluded your ears. you’re unsure. you don’t want to hurt him.. suffocating the first man you lay with would have you begging the gods to open the ground and swallow you whole. and it’s not just any man, it’s jon.

the soft glide of jon’s fingers across your thigh bring you out of your head. his hands are cold. they feel nice in contrast to your own skin, nerves lit on fire.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t.”

“Jon-”

“Do you trust me?”

he’s steadfast in his reassurance. his thumb has been rubbing circles in your hip while you both have been talking. does he do it all on purpose, or is he just this naturally desirable?

“You know I do, but-“

“Good. Sit.”

you still hesitate, and that’s when jon takes matters into his own hands. his hands stop their tracing, and instead grip your thighs, bringing you down himself.

whatever expectations you had are exceeded tenfold. jon eats you out like a man starved. your head spins with the way you can feel his tongue, exploring you and swiping over your clit. it has white hot pleasure shooting up your spine, and your thighs quiver ever so slightly, but jon’s firm grip keeps you in place. he’s confident in his movements, precise and sure in a way that makes you see stars.

jon thinks he’s found the place where he would be content to meet his demise. you taste so good, and the pretty sounds you’re making have blood rushing straight to his cock. jon has always loved the sound of his name on your lips — whether it be small acknowledgments in passing by, or just mentions in mere conversation. but he’s found he much prefers hearing you moan it.

you’re almost embarrassed how quickly he has warmth building up in your belly, pressure building as he gives you the most pleasure you’ve ever had. he’s giving and giving and giving, and you find yourself selfishly taking all of it. he doesn’t slow down, keeping a steady rhythm that makes the cord in your stomach wind impossibly tighter.

“Jon, I’m-!”

you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by the snap of the cord in your stomach that was previously tightening. pleasure overtakes your nerves, flooding your veins and momentarily removing your ability to speak (or think). jon’s tongue doesn’t stop fully, only slowing down to help you ride out your peak.

you catch your breath, feeling jon kiss the inside of your thighs as small aftershocks have you clenching around nothing. you find yourself seeking his touch (as if he hasn’t been constantly on you), your hand running along the surface of your thigh to find his own. he reaches for you, trapping your own smaller hand beneath his own. it’s reassuring, grounding you back to the present after he brought you so far over the edge.

you move to get off, to let him get up & breathe — but he doesn’t release his grip, keeping you in place. you hear him speak.

“Only once?”

[bellaciao-ciao-ciao]

Good morning to all the #neverkamala pro Palestine protest voters and the “influencers” who asked their followers to abstain from voting or vote Jill stein. Where is she btw?? Did she crawl back into her hole now that the election is over?

Anyway good luck and just know that those protest vote influencers who influenced you won’t be suffering. They’ll be sleeping perfectly fine. The victims will continue to be victims and those that actually did the right thing will now be forced to suffer as well because of short sighted ego. And those that protest voted will continue to deny any accountability and “oh it didn’t even make a difference guiseeee I swearrrr” stfu.

[gothamite-shenanigans]

thinking of that one time i hadn't slept in like a week and i got stuck in an elevator with dick grayson on the way up to the floor i work at in WE, and i accidentally told him he's shaped like a dorito and how a lot of people like doritos and then said very seriously, "I prefer potato chips though, no offense" but thankfully he laughed it off and didn't even look uncomfy??? like idk how he does it but like that man istg

anyways i have nightmares about this and still wake up in a cold sweat thinking about it and have avoided the oldest wayne kid since this incident

[ryan-sometimes]

Most embarrassing part about being from a country colonized by Portugal is that they did all that pillaging, slavery, and murder only to STILL be broke!!! Girl wtf!!! It’s like watching a person who can’t drive steal your car. Come on

[steamedlotusroot]

remember when swk tried to take li jing and nezha to court for gross negligence in jttw? good times

[stupidspacerobots]

a collection of me hating!! drawing!!! metal!!!!!

[sorcerly]

[a screenshot of dialogue captions from Dragon Age: The Veilguard || Emmrich: Again, I’m so sorry Manfred keeps wandering in while you’re asleep, Lucanis.]

So Lucanis DEFINITELY woke up and stabbed Manfred on instinct right?

Went straight for the throat and accidentally knocked Manfred’s skull off with one of the daggers he keeps under his pillows?

Depending on how well Freds skeleton holds together Lucanis either has to guide a panicked body to Emmrichs room while gently cradling the skull OR has to sweep all the bones into his top sheet and pack it across the Lighthouse campus like some kind of Nevarran Santa Claus

[mydearchoso]

sukuna who's about to go insane after a long day, needing to feel you.

sukuna who start's taking off your lounge wear. shirt first, before leaning in to kiss you as his hands go to the hem on your waist.

sukuna who starts pulling your shorts down before they get stuck over your hips, groaning in frustration.

sukuna who is fighting every urge to rip them off as he asks, "how'd you get these damned things on, brat?"

sukuna who is about at his wits end as they finally slide down, underwear in tow.

sukuna who all but moans in relief as they do, relishing in the sight before him. of course only after he victoriously flings his now most hated pair of shorts across the house. never wishing to see them again.

[maladaptivewriting]

if i see one more person in the marauders fandom talking about the hbo reboot, im going to lose it. if i see any of you posting about watching jkr’s revival, im blocking you