#in your bar

[shortmexicangirl]

'can i copy your homework?'

'yeah just don't make it obvious'

[bittertasteinmymouth]

I want to talk about Caitlyn's line "You really think I needed all the guards at the Hexgates?" and how much of an admission of her love for Vi it is. A playful admission, full of light-hearted snark, but an admission nonetheless.

This is Caitlyn telling Vi that she trusts her, trusts that her decisions are the right ones to be made, trusts that Vi is right in saying that Jinx has changed.

This is Caitlyn telling Vi that she's letting go, that she's finally putting her love for Vi over her grief for her mother and her hatred for Jinx.

This is Caitlyn telling Vi she believes in her good heart, that she's fallen in love with that good heart.

[simonbrain]

love the idea of reader just trying to fuck all her stress out with a random at the bar before returning back to her mundane life, and simon deciding he's going to keep her instead 🙂‍↕️

the prick doesn't budge when you try to kick him out; instead, he drags you back into bed and works his mouth to loosen you up again, and now you've forgotten why you were trying to haul his ass out of your home.

(you attempted to sound stern while telling him to get out of your house, but he merely chuckled, the sound so raspy and condescending that it stroked a heat within you that you thought was sated last night.

"this is our home. now get your arse back in bed, i'm fuckin' hungry.")

you had to really fist at his hair to pull him off of you, and that only turned him on if the deep groan rumbling out of him was anything to go by—you swear his tongue sunk deeper inside you. he only relented so he could fuck you dumb in the shower after, leaving you with trembling legs and feeling more dirty than clean (atta girl, don't you waste any of tha'—keep it all in).

you blink, and now suddenly you're seated as he spoon-feeds you a nice, hearty breakfast, huffing something like messy girl when toast crumbs get all over your face and the wooden table.

words can't express how flustered you are; you're too stunned to even continue telling the big man who's now feeding you scrambled eggs that he needs to leave. all you feel like you're capable of doing is opening your mouth to accept another spoonful, ignoring the ache you feel between your thighs when you catch his heavy stare and hear a low hum of approval.

then he's leaving (and it's not because of your nagging), muttering something about having to work those mutts to the bone today, all while you're trying to make sense of what's happening. he gives you a sloppy kiss to silence your questions and exasperation, one that makes you feel hot all over and almost melt into a puddle had it not been for the firm grip he had on your ass.

he licks his lips when he pulls back, eyes darting to where your shirt just barely covers where he'd rather be all day than having to go and train recruits. he stares for an uncomfortably long time and before you can speak up, face growing a little hot from the tension, he's turning around to finally leave.

before the door shuts, he says, "be a good girl, ay? see you tonight, birdie."

you're left with your thoughts and feelings of dread and anxiety. there definitely isn't any underlying interest or anything; the freak has fucked your brain out of your head, that's all. you're sure he didn't even mean it anyway. maybe. hopefully.

a drop of his come rolls down your thigh, and arousal shame burns through you. since when did you let one-night stands finish in you?

(your so-called one-night stand came home hungry and pissed, so worked up that he dragged you over to the nearest surface and played with you for a good hour. by the time you had half the mind to tell him about the dinner in the oven—your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at how much money he had sent you for groceries earlier, nevermind how he got ahold of your account details—he grunted and finally gave your poor pussy a break, scarred mug all slick and flushed.)

good luck when he takes you to meet his mates at the bar a week later, the same bar you brought him home from; the comments from them make you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you right up.

"pretty thing ye caught, lt," johnny grins, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. he's a bit over the top, ogles your chest too hard, but overall he's... alright. you'd probably notice how perverted he really was if you actually looked at him longer than a few fleeting glances, but his stare is kind of unnerving.

kyle—perfection personified—hums in agreement, a warm smile on his face that puts you at ease. somehow you don't pick up on the ulterior motive behind his gaze running over your body, eyes roaming over your chest more discreetly than johnny but just as appreciative. "pretty indeed. you don't mind sharing, do you ghost?" kyle teases, pretty eyes glancing over at simon, who only huffs at that and shakes his head (much to your confusion).

who the fuck is ghost? you only know big guy and simon.

there's a deep chuckle and your focus flits over to the man seated in front of you, captain john price. if you thought simon was scary, john's a man who demands respect and attention just by being in his presence. "you chose the wrong dog to bring home," john hums, voice deep and gravelly and making you shamefully squeeze your thighs together.

"but that's alright, sweetheart. you have three others now, yeah?" the purr that comes out of his mouth is sinful, and when you nod and stammer out a yes, sir as if you were one of his soldiers and not the sweet girl that simon has brought to his captain, looking for approval of his newest toy, he only smiles.

simon's hand squeezes your thigh underneath the table, trailing upwards, and you're slowly understanding what it is that you've gotten yourself into.

[yetanotherknitter]

i know that chilchuck saying there's not much interesting for him to say about his daughters and then saying, like, two sentences about each is Very In Character but what would have been funnier is if he was like. hm. it's not very interesting. and then smash cutting to, like, five hours later and he's still going on about them (marcille listens attentively with sparkly eyes. we've done it. we've found how to make him talk)

[stump-not-found]

mabel pines #1 hater

[valtsv]

today at church my pastor told us "the trouble with a living sacrifice is it keeps crawling off the altar" and it made me think of your blog. not sure if it's right vibe but the association was immediate.

man i knew the prospects for a career in standup comedy were bad but i had no idea it was so dire that comedians were turning to the church to supplement their income. this says a lot about the state of the economy.

[rocktheholygrail]

Hannibal (2013-2015)

2x12 || 3x04

[cyberiapinksosa333]

now i got a sweet tooth

[mccromy]

Tbh I think people should be more rabid about moshang. Like, talk about an artist falling in love with his creation, then upgrade it to infinity.

I mean, it is not like Shang Qinghua made Mobei-Jun and fell in love with him because he was so beautiful. Shang Qinghua designed Mobei-Jun to be what Shang Qinghua considered perfect. Every single flaw was included lovingly, every virtue, every inch of his body and face to be what Shang Qinghua found the most handsome, attractive. His ideal man. He made Mobei-Jun for himself, he made him with the intention to love him.

He told a history about a boy who was wronged, who had every ounce of kindness bleed out through a thousand cuts. Who took revenge on every single person who hurt him, even if by negligence. Made the whole world revolve around him, changed it to satisfy his readers.

And then made Mobei-Jun for himself. He made him silent, strong, mistrustful, arrogant, spoiled and beautiful and set him up for betrayal. Made his life tragic in that way authors do with their favorite characters.

(Luo Binghe was perfect in the eyes of the world. Shang Qinghua crafted Mobei-Jun to be perfect in his eyes.)

Can you imagine? If god made you solely with the intention to love you. Perfect in the eyes of god, literally.

And then Shang Qinghua became Mobei-Jun's servant. Mobei-Jun was both his King and his favorite creation. (As if god made himself a personal deity to worship.)

Their relationship was rocky (mountain sized rocks) for what amounts to decades. Shang Qinghua's perfect man was so incredibly flawed it made him near impossible to get along with, he was also destined to kill Shang Qinghua. And Shang Qinghua was far from perfect himself, he was also destined to stab Mobei-Jun in the back. What's more, Shang Qinghua wove those threads of fate himself.

(In the end none of that happened. But think about it.)

Even better, when put like that, Moshang sounds so poetic. And it could be!... If moshang was composed by anybody else other than Mobei "to get your man you need to beat him up at least three times a day" Jun and Shang "the best way to seduce someone is to be so pathetic and lame!" Qinghua.

Shang Qinghua is literally Mobei-Jun's creator but he's also his little minion going nice one, boss!, the LeFou to Mobei-Jun's Gaston. The sleazy car salesman to Mobei-Jun's Nepo baby CEO. The Connecticut Clark to his Malfina.

How, just how is it possible that I have to channel my inner truffle hog when sniffing around for moshang brainrot? Everybody should be losing black brain matter through their nostrils about them, and yet.

[humans-are-tasty]

[hellenhighwater]

Best study tips?

Oh you don't want that advice from me. My law school professors are still using me as an example of don't do this (unless it works for you (but it won't unless you're crazy.)) I am an undisputed queen of the eleventh hour caffenated cram session, followed by a 90 minute REM cycle and fugue state exam.

I guess the only things I can say, in good conscience, is to give yourself a place to study where that is the ONLY thing you do. I learned really fast that I cannot study at home. I'm too easily distracted. So instead I would study at the lawbrary for as late as it was open, (usually 2 am) and then relocate to a 24 hour diner if I needed to keep going. Even a noisy diner was easier to study in, because there's nothing to do there but eat or whatever work you brought with. I'm not saying that's necessarily going to work for everyone, but having a physical location where Study Happens really helped me maintain focus.

On a similar note, if you're trying to retain huge quantities of information, physically mapping them out can help. Not just with fitting the info together, but in helping your brain network it together in a consistent and recallable way. When I was Bar prepping, I literally covered the walls of my lawbrary study room with outlines and flowcharts of all of the relevant material. And when I needed to recall it, I would find myself at the testing desk, looking up into the empty space where that information was logged, and I would know it.

But honestly studying is just a process of figuring out what works best for you.

[posalis]

Daniel Molloy + first impressions

[dilfdyke]

picture of all time. btw.

[bluegiragi]

monster au intros - konig and horangi!

access all my content early on patreon

[a-cipher]

etho has had his keyboard for 20 YEARS. WHAT

[joy-jpg]

man and his spirit