#i hate this lolololol

[izuqi]

kinda just stalked ur whole page and would kill for a kenma oneshot literally could be anything

"c'mon pretty, i know you can take more." kenma sighs, looking down at you with a smirk on his face, almost like he's laughing at your pathetic attempts to take him all in your mouth.

you pull off of him with a slight whimper, looking up at him, tears beginning to fall. "i-i can't do it." you sniffle. kenma things you look so beautiful, the smudged mascara under your eyes, the tears streaming down your face, and the drool falling down from your swollen lips.

"don't cry baby," kenma says, feigned sympathy laced in his voice. he wipes away a tear from your cheek. "it's okay pretty, i'll help you." kenma smiles down at your embarrassing state. he twirls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pushing you back down onto his cock, till your nose comes in contact with his pelvis. tears start to fall quicker, you can feel your throat burn as he pushes your head for you, completely controlling your movements.

kenma felt amazing. it was sloppy, extremely sloppy. spit and precum everywhere, on his dick, on his legs, on your face, and kenma loved it. "god, your fucking mouth is so sloppy." he groans. starting to bob your head faster, "fucking love it so much." you moan around his cock, grabbing onto his thighs for stability. kenma whimpers. the feeling is so euphoric for him, everything about it, even just looking at your face. you look so beautiful looking up at him. "i'm gunna cum," he pants "take it all for me-" his eyes squeeze shut and he bucks his hips up.

he cums, so much, so much into your mouth. it reminds just you how bad he eats.

[shalomniscient]

every day, once a year, yelan takes a day off.

this is written directly into her contract with the tianquan. there are no exceptions, no special arrangements. on this singular day, yelan does not belong to the qixing; on this singular day, her leash and collar are abandoned, and she has free reign to do as she pleases.

what does she do? well, prepare for your anniversary, of course.

she hops out of bed, cleans up, tugs her jacket on and then slips out the door with the clink of her jade bracelet. it’s a clear day, and yelan tilts her head to the sky briefly, letting the golden sunrays warm her face almost like an embrace. you were never really a morning person, but the sun on your skin always suited you. she’d have to drag you out of bed to see it, but it was always well worth your grumbling in the end when you finally cave and offer her a smile which she would then steal with a kiss.

“ugh, yelan—“ you giggled, your hands on her chest gently pushing her back. your bracelet was cool against her skin, and the matching one on her own wrist hummed. she nosed along your jaw, pressing more and more kisses until she reached your neck. playfulness turned into something a little more heated, and her blood sang at the sigh she pulled from your lips. emerald eyes flicked up to you, teasing, challenging, and you managed a wry huff before tangling your fingers in her hair and tugging her back to properly kiss her again. it stung, beautifully, but yelan grinned all the way."

she shakes herself out of the memory, and steps into the busy street. liyue’s morning scene has always been crowded, and she blends into the throng with practiced ease. she follows the flow of the crowd down the wharf until she reaches the shop she’s looking for—a florist, tucked snugly between two other stores on the higher levels of the shopping district.

the owner, a midde-aged woman, looks up from tending to her orchids to smile at her. her eyes crease with familiarity at the sight of yelan as the spy steps into her store, fingers brushing the petals of a few flowers. the woman rounds the counter, and rummages in the storage for a few moments.

“the usual, i take it?” she asks, and yelan nods, leaning against the counter and tapping her fingers over the grainy wood. the shop hasn’t changed much, if at all, since she last came here with you.

you leaned down by a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, lips curving upward into a smile as you breathed in the soft, floral scent. yelan looked curiously over your shoulder, a hand casually resting on your hip. she asked if it was your favorite flower—you nodded, your other hand rising to just as casually cup her face from over your shoulder. “they’re quite pretty, aren’t they?” you hummed, and yelan took a moment to ponder the question. in the end, she said they were nowhere near as pretty as you, and took the light smack you delivered to her shoulder with an easy laugh.

the florist clears her throat, coaxing her out of the memory. yelan recieves the bouquet—white chrysanthemums—with a smile, settling it in the crook of her arm. the woman’s expression is measured, but there’s a slight waver to her tone when she speaks. if yelan really had to name it, it sounds close to… pity.

“yelan—“ she begins, but she only flashes the woman a signature grin, before slipping out the door as quickly as she came. she has other things to get, after all, and the clock is always ticking.

(or maybe her clock stopped ticking a long time ago and all this is just extra. maybe it cracked when the rocks fell and the earth buried—)

she dissolves back into the crowd as she heads to her next destination: wanmin restaurant. she can smell the chili in the air as she makes her way down the street again, a sharpness only wanmin seems to be able to make. when she gets there, xiangling is boisterously calling out orders while her father toils away in the kitchen, with guoba tirelessly maintaining the roaring fire for his wok. when she sees her, xiangling’s grin only widens, and she waves her over enthusiastically.

“miss yelan! welcome, welcome,” the young chef says cheerily. “here for another batch of dried chillies?”

yelan chuckles, shaking her head. “no, not this time. i’m here for a few rice buns. with a sweet filling, preferably.”

“ooh,” xiangling coos, nodding. “are you planning to go on an expedition? rice buns are both portable and satiating.”

“you could say that,” yelan says vaguely. the little chef is right, in a way, since she’ll have to hike a little to get to your spot—but really, it’s because rice buns have always been a comfort food of sorts for you.

“how can you not like them?” you asked defensively as you trudged along with her behind the group. there was a slight smear of filling on the corner of your lip, and your expression scrunched up a little more as she wiped it off. her jade bracelet was cool against your heated cheeks. yelan only shook her head, teasingly remarking that spice was a much greater wake-up call than sweets. you huffed at that, taking another bite of your rice bun. “not all of us are masochists, lan’er,” you grumbled, and yelan laughed softly. her nimble fingers encircled your wrist, tugging you closer so she could take a quick bite of your bun. it was sweet, sweeter than she’d like, but maybe that was because you were there. and somehow, that made it good.

yelan pulls herself out of yet another memory when xiangling deposits the bag of warm rice buns into her hands. they’re freshly steamed, and the scent of warm buns fill her senses. she thanks the chef, and disappears much the same way she came before the young lady can get even so much as a word in. in the back of her mind, she can almost hear you chastise her for it.

(she always hears you in the back of her mind. if not, where else—)

there’s only one thing left on her list, and it’s incense. it’s late in the morning now, so the crowds have thinned out—and without her cover, yelan takes to back alleys and rooftops instead. she sighs, relieved almost, as she slips into the shimmering, reflective cover of hydro, darting like a minnow between buildings like rocks, barely a blur in the eyes of anyone nearby. the secrecy isn’t strictly necessary for what she’s doing now, but she’s been so used to being unseen that being in the open feels… unsafe.

it doesn’t take her that long to reach wangsheng funeral parlor. the young lady running the parlor isn’t in today—instead, it’s her ‘assistant’, the elegant man shrouded in such thick mystery that neither her nor ningguang has been able to pierce. he greets her with a solemn expression, no doubt because director hu has told him the reason for her visit. “incense?” he asks again anyway to confirm, his voice low and soft. yelan nods absently, her nose stinging slightly from the intense scent permeating the parlor.

she watches as the man disappears into the back of the parlor for a moment, before he reappears with a delicately wrapped packet of incense sticks. she slides a pouch of mora his way, which he takes wordlessly. she tucks the packet into her little pocket dimension, then turns on her heel to leave. just as she exits the door, he calls out to her.

“safe travels.”

she doesn’t deign him with a response.

her feet take her out and away from the city, down the familiar path to the bleeding wound in the earth—the chasm. the land goes from valleys to large, curling momuments of rock, carved by the force of a falling star. she feels that familiar tug in her chest, the voice that calls to her, that tells her to forsake the surface as her ancestor once did. she listened to it, once. and—

“go,” you whispered, pushing her away. half of you was buried under rock, and she could only see one of your eyes; the other was forced shut by the blood that trickled down your face. yelan nearly screamed herself hoarse, but you grabbed her face and kissed her. it tasted like salt, and her heart lurched at the wrongness. your kisses had always been sweet. you slipped your bracelet onto her wrist, then pushed her again, and then the earth heaved and groaned, and it was the last she ever saw of you—

she turns her head and rips herself out of the memory and the temptation; she has other, more important places to be today. she has other days to chase down her demons. she skirts the side of the chasm, slowly ascending to the top. she passes by the memorial to the millelith, and leaves a rice bun and a few sticks of incense as an offering. they too, deserve to be remembered after all.

(she wonders if anyone else comes out here to remember them. she wonders who will come when she’s gone for—)

it takes her a while, but eventually, she reaches the highest point in the chasm. the sun has traveled across the sky by this point, the afternoon heat mellowing out into a slightly cooler evening warmth. the sky is alive with shades of gold when she finally stops, drawing to a halt right before a smooth stone, standing upright from the earth like a silent vigil. she kneels before it, producing three sticks on incense and inserting them into the censer before the stone and lighting them. she sets a rice bun on the plate by the stone, and saves one for herself. the bouquet of white chrysanthemums, she lays on top of the stone.

yelan takes a bite of her rice bun, letting the sweetness settle on her tongue, as the floral scent mixes with the incense, filling her lungs and settling on her shoulders. she tilts her head to the sun, and the warmth feels almost like an embrace. and when she closes her eyes, the wind in her hair feels almost like a caress. when she opens them again, she lets them rest on the stone—the headstone, and she offers it a smile.

sitting on the edge of the cliff, your legs swinging, you smiled at her, nearly blindingly bright like the golden hour. your pinkies were twined together, your shoulders flush with hers. there was a bouquet of white chrysanthemums on your lap, and just a few crumbs on the corner of your lips. your voice carried in the wind when you spoke.

“happy anniversary, yelan.”

“happy anniversary, sweetheart,” she whispers. the wind carries her voice as well, and she hopes you hear it, wherever you are now. one day, she’ll join you, but for now she takes another bite of her rice bun and breathes in the scent of incense and chrysanthemums.

[maximura]

I just saw the video of Seunghan walking past the rows and rows of funeral wreaths sent for him in front of the SM building. I hope every single person responsible for that is haunted by it for the rest of their lives and considers seeking therapy. Did they forget two SM idols committed suicide. This is so cruel and I hate that this is the state of KPOP in 2024. And over a fucking cigarette? And dating? I'll never get over this whole situation.

[rainofthetwilight]

just saw someone call arin selfish gn everyone

[athina-blaine]

Thinking about Laios smelling like home. Kabru caving and smelling his cloak or something or just giving him a hug and taking note of his smell. Not home like his mother or home like utaya but home nonetheless. Current and present and able to be held in his hands. Something about kabru being emotionally vulnerable gets to me.

Bruuuuh I looooove Kabru being emotionally vulnerable!! Ch 76 was made in a lab and then sent to a factory specifically to drive me insane, I love emotionally reticent characters who struggle to express their own wants and needs until they're pushed past their breaking point. Mix it in with a little bit of a savior's complex and survivor's guilt and you've got a recipe for a brain full of worms, it's swiss cheese up there i stg

I imagine Kabru feeling very safe around Laios. Both in a literal sense, being at Laios' side is literally the safest place for him to be, and gives him the space to approach his aversion to monsters at his own pace. But also in an emotional sense; after all, with Laios, Kabru doesn't need to overthink, worry about saying the wrong thing, or make sure his mask doesn't slip. Not because Laios doesn't care about that or wouldn't judge him (although he wouldn't), but because that's not what Laios wants or needs from him. He just wants Kabru's friendship in a way that's fulfilling for both of them, genuine and sincere and freely given.

[deadlittledogs]

dreamt I was Jerma's in-person assistant and that I kept coming onto his streams to subtly try and touch his arm and back and every time I was visible on stream the view count would start plummeting down and his girlfriend really didn't like me but I would call her "mommy" in a very serious tone a lot anyways so I would say stuff like "Does mommy want me to go to dutch bros and get the hazelnut truffle mocha for her? Well what did daddy say." and the chat would be just be like "did Jerma and his gf hire a gimp"

[fisheito]

do u understand. i need them side by side greeting eiden after a long day and i need eiden to suffer emotional whiplash from the subtext of his nickname enunciation

[palmtree-art]

Kev and Charlie<3

[hatake]

fucked things up with a person i was starting to like and have been sad about it all week :(

[cartoontees]

all i'm gonna say about that red vs blue finale for now is i can't believe it fucking erased everything that happened past basically season 13 😐 no offense but why did i watch 6 more seasons after that if that's all that was going to happen. red vs blue, why did you let me get invested in that. frankly they were the worst 6 seasons anyway.

[thehobbitwithstickyuppyhair]

my sigyn senses are tingling.

and by that I mean I can feel myself falling in love with yet another mythic female character whose only focus in their brief appearances are that they are the wife of a male character who is largely focused on, is mentioned they are a mother in that their children are marginally important, and the only real focus they have is the worst and most brutally painful point of their life.

(Celebrían. This post is about Celebrían. And Sigyn. I'm sad and I love women)

[notreallyuseless]

I'm going to be dramatic once again but can the qsmp admins and Quackity stop with talking about killing the eggs? No but for real, if they're tired of it or want to end the event, they have an easy way out without upsetting anyone: make the eggs leave. Go back to the "dragon". Whatever. The very first video about the egg event told them that the "dragon" would give a reward to the parent(s) who had the happiest egg. Go that route??? So that no one gets upset. I'd much rather have the eggs leave and we never know their fate afterward than to straight up kill them, just saying.

[darwinquark]

man I am having way too much fun envisioning early 20s Jughead living in The Castro and being a total anti-capitalist hippie nightmare in San Francisco

[im-no-jedi]

LOL this is mean but

I kinda wish my grandma were still alive so I could rub it in her face about the worth of my Pokemon cards ����

[boyobjectifier]

no yeah i love when tumblr doesn’t let me edit a post i reblogged. definitely won’t drive me crazy that i missed a word in the tags and it changes the meaning of the sentence

no yeah tumblr is such a cool and very functional app :)

[feddy-34]

see one of the reasons why i hate elongated muskrat and his aerospace money laundering operation is because everything they make is SO GODDAMN UGLY

(engineer ranting below)(you have been warned‼️)

like look at this:

this is spacex's suit prototype for polaris dawn (which is another shitshow entirely that ill maybe make a post abt). now you may be thinking, but wait a minute! why is it so skinny? are they giving ozempic to space suits now??

that's because you're thinking of this bad boy:

this is NASA's EMU (extravehicular mobility unit) meant for performing tasks in space like, say, cleaning the solar panels on the ISS or repairing the million parts that have broken since launch. it's entirely self sustainable for over 8 hours, with its own life support, propulsion pack, and a bunch of other shit. it's been in use for over a zillion years and it's finally getting phased out for the artemis missions. thing is an absolute unit.

spacex's suit is a different kind of space suit, called an umbilical suit. these suits are not self sustaining, instead being attached to the ship/module/whatever via a cord. hence the name. the cord provides both oxygen and communications support. they were used by NASA during the 60s but were quickly abandoned because having a non-self sustaining suit for spacewalks is fucking stupid.

lets compare spacex's suit again:

(gross ugly lame boring puke emoji)

to NASA's version from the gemini missions:

thats fucking badass. do you see how badass that is? look at him. look at how cool he looks. you could never be that cool. ever.