#lax pick up

[los-angeles-usa-travel-tips]

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[etrevil]

“Odasaku would’ve been patience enough to give you the guidance you needed. That would have been the right thing to do. But righteousness doesn’t take very kindly to me.”

[jellogram]

I am so fucking ready to go home I am so fucking ready I am tired of never having enough groceries and living out of a suitcase and never being fully comfortable in my house I am so fucking ready but unfortunately I have an 11 hour flight between me and home. I would rather slam my hand in the car door than take an 11 hour flight. It's going to feel endless. It might actually kill me. But then I will land in Los Angeles and I can fucking EXHALE for the first time in seven months. I'm so close. I'm so close.

[thebookishwallflower]

today marks the birth of prompt box!! say happy birthday to him (his name is ramen). if you would like a random prompt send in an ask and the number of prompts you want ramen and i to give you :}

(i copied over a ton of @/scealaiscoite's prompts, printed them out, cut them up, and threw 'em in a box for random writing inspiration, because choosing one is far too hard, and this is way more fun)

[seased]

theres an extra layer of depth to persona 5 when you play the game pretending the pc is a wayward teen butch okay it adds something okay i swear

[copperyy]

>__>

[im-still-watching-anime]

gave my mom’s dog a massage and i’m pretty sure she achieved a state of nirvana previously unknown to all living things

[orlandospride]

as a fan of the US women since 2007 (and womens soccer as a whole since 2005), i am also (kind of) glad that were out. my feelings are pretty mixed on the matter but a lot of the fans dont fucking get it. this was always going to be the hardest world cup for us. the combination of the players that weve been relying on for the past decade either retiring or being out with injuries, and other countries finally putting money into their programs always meant that we weren't going to do as well as people would like to think. ik that the world cup is always fucking wild but germany got knocked out as well. that's huge and is what a lot of newer US fans are missing. no one's threepeated before, simply because it's fucking hard to be that dominant for that long. on a separate note, there's the fact that we go into every single group stage game of every single tournamentlooking like we've never met each other before, everyone's like "oh god we're not going to win", and then we usually pull out a win. but this time we didn't, and that's okay! it fucking sucks but it's okay! it sucks that men and conservatives are going to use this as a "see, they didnt deserve the money", but they don't matter. im excited for whatever chaos the rest of the tournament brings.

most rational uswnt fan i’ve ever heard. you’re bang in the money with pretty much all of this. i do agree people underestimated how much of an impact the player changes had. obviously some incompetence of vlatko’s behalf too and it’ll be interesting to see what happens to him afterwards

but yeah women’s football is getting better across the world and (hopefully) the more time passes, the more world cups like this we’ll have, because it means gaps are getting smaller and that is a positive….even if you are american

it does really suck that incels and republicans will use this as a “it’s what they deserve!” and look at the event in isolation, particularly when they literally don’t care about women, let alone women’s football

[miserye]

A ranking of airports I’ve been through best to worst

1. My current airport- Tiny and wonderful, fast tsa because no one is ever there! Impossible to get lost in, only down side is that there are no good food options after tsa but there is a subway before it lol I think they ran outta space

2. MEM- efficient tsa, nice inside, charging areas that actually work!!!!! On the smaller side! Nice walkways and some food variety

3. SAT- relatively okay tsa, lots of food options, kinda long but that’s life, a bit small and a little busy for the size but it’s fine

4. Colorado- okay tsa, lots of lines for it so it helps, easy to read and understand metro line system within the airport, nice walkways <3

5. AUS- tsa is usually pretty quick but pick up and drop off area is hell on earth, meh food options, KING of slow ass walkers I’m gonna kill austinites at this rate

6. St. Paul- hell on earth. It’s hard to navigate those damn trains. However, spam shrine.

7. DFW- I have many issues with this place.

8. LAX- it wasn’t even that busy, they just have weird ass rules like I get it but at the same time no I don’t. Like showing my boarding pass AT tsa is so weird?? Also it’s so long and there aren’t walk ways and it’s so narrow???? Maybe it was just the area we were in but 😕

Honorable mention: incheon and jeju- both were great and fast airports, favorite bathroom of all time is incheon

[gingergari]

i honestly do not think i will be able to draw all of these guys in time so here are my main splat ocs and their team alignments!

maybe i’ll draw the winning team members 🤞🏽

[bi-rezi]

on the one hand I have coffee at home on the other hand it's not a pumpkin spice chaippucino with oat milk is it

[catwouthats]

There are actually many grasses/plants that make them sick! Farmers have to make sure those weeds aren’t growing.

The floor is just as much food to us as it is to them.

We have dandelions, broadleaf plantain, violets (but only the ones native to the Americas are edible), clover, mallow, mint, Onion grass, Creeping Charlie (my fav for a spice), chickweed, and then a shit ton of grasses native to America are edible.

Now go forth and forage!

[yoshistory]

I've been putting more efforts to having chill time with my girls every day and Olive is much more relaxed now. She rarely ever cries for me with a toy in her mouth looking for me at night and instead knows just where to find me and curls up with Hope and I to sleep or just confidently sleeps by her lonesome on my office chair

[succubusvalentine]

Simon Riley who doesn't know how to comfort you. So, he does the next best thing. CW : fingering, praise, dirty talk

Simon has never been good at communicating. Especially after growing up in an abusive household. Problems were solved with fists, not words.

He'd gotten better at communicating over the years. Though, he still struggled. Especially when it came to comforting people.

So when you came home, clearly pissed off, Simon was internally panicking. He had no idea what to do.

Simon remained silent as he stalked to the bedroom, looming in the doorway like a shadow as he watched you change into your shorts and singlet top.

"What, Simon?" You snapped, eyes flickering with frustration.

"What's got your panties in a twist, lovie?" Simon asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway.

"Don't talk about my panties, Simon!" You say, which makes Simon raise a brow at you. You really weren't having it today.

"Alright" Simon sighed, his brain finally flickering with an idea.

He pushed off the doorway and walked over to you. Picking you up and ignoring your protests. Carrying you to the living room and sitting on the couch with you between his legs. You're back to his front.

"Up we go" Simon hummed, lifting your legs to spread them and rest them over his thick thighs.

"What're you doing?"

"Fixing your attitude"

"My attitude does not need fixing"

"Sure it doesn't, lovie"

"It doesn't!"

"Whatever you say"

You go to protest but then there's two thick fingers rubbing at your clit. Making you go lax and whine in a mixture of relief and frustration.

"Tell me about your day, darlin'" Simon growled in your ear, his fingers slipping down your folds and into your cunt. Fingers curling up and pressing firmly against your g-spot repetitively. Making you gasp and a moan to be forced from your chest.

"Fucking-Sherry wouldn't stop bothering me" you whimpered, grinding your cunt against Simons hand. "She was such a bitch today always on my ass about-oh my god there!-everything!"

"Sounds real stressful lovie. But look now, you're doing such a good job grinding that pretty cunny against my hand. Soaking your panties and shorts like a good girl, hm?" Simon whispered in your ear, nipping the flesh gently.

"'m being good" you nod dumbly, gasping as Simons fingers speed up. Your hips moving on their own accord. Heat quickly pooling in your lower stomach.

"C'mon baby, come for me. You can do it. You'll be such a good girl if you do" Simon whispered, his free hand moving from your thigh to under your shirt, tugging roughly at your nipple, sending you over the edge.

You soaked Simons hand and your panties in your release. Crying out in pleasure. Head tipping back and eyes squeezed shut as you whine and moan.

"good fucking girl, huh?" Simon growled as he kissed your neck "attitude just needed to get fucked out of you"

So yeah, maybe Simon wasn't good at comforting you. But he was really fucking good with his fingers.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

[dmitriene]

cw: reader is a cat hybrid.

being simon's riley one and only lap cat, sweet thing with fluffy, fluttering ears and long tail that lays across his lap just as your body, slightly curled, splayed over his muscular thighs and nose burrowing in the cotton fabric of his pajama pants, enjoying the long, delicate strokes of his rough, calloused palm he brushes down your head and to the small of your back, chuckling deep and smoky at the way your spine stretches out beneath the gentle touch.

to be honest, he needed someone who would always be waiting for him at home, not only as a family member, or wife, or children, but something more affectionate, pet like, with fluffy body parts, with constantly needy behavior, curling up on his lap or chest with loud purrs and rubbing against the sloping curve of his stubbled cheekbones, nosing in the crook of his neck sweet and pliable, meowing at the tight squeeze of his pawing hands, going lax anytime he chooses to pick you up or stroke down.

simon loves how you seek him at the early morning light when he crawls out of the bed for his tea, in nothing but the pajama pants and naked chest, muscles softened, covered by the pudgy layer of little fat he accumulated by lazing out with you on the couch or the bed, a place for you to sink your clawed nails in when you follow his form out of the bedroom, curling behind his back, affectionate and clinging, the expanse of his scarred, tissued skin falling victim to your kneading fingers.

you tilt your head and crane your neck out for him when he bends to smother you in tender kisses, scratching behind your ears that flutter at the touch and elicit those adorable purrs deep from your throat, eyes barely open to look at him, enough to see how his own crinkle, pale eyelashes low over the tawny irises, the pupil shudders to dilate in response to yours, focused on with pooling, overflowing tenderness that makes simon so much softer on the usually razory edges, just for you.

simon takes care of you, your every need, especially when you start to whine about how empty and aching you are, your panties sodden, soiled by the slick that oozes and pools down onto the cotton with your need for him, to your gaping hole end up stuffed full of his cock, sheathed deep and secure along your pulsing, viscous walls, tight with warmth as you purr in against his solid chest, nuzzling over the softness of his muscles, as his hand pats across your plump ass.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[pseudowho]

"Why the fuck...does this vacuum cleaner smell like cheese?"

Kento was yet to arrive home, and you saw this as only a blessing for him. Staring down the barrel of the hoover, the house finally hushed from the sounds of rowdy children, you wore your finest holey tank top, and pyjama shorts which covered asscheek, pussy and belly (but only ever two at a time, at any given time).

Your antiperspirant didn't have the same stamina as you. You swore as you trod barefoot on Lego, staggering and cussing like a mad old witch.

Bra-less, and without the time to scout the laundry pile for underwear, you hoovered crumbs and war-detritus like a skrunkly raccoon; hungry, cross, and in need of a shower. Your mind was lost, running between the alleyways of your chore-list, when the door clicked open, and closed.

You vacuumed, and vacuumed, not even looking up as you heard the rhythmic tack, tack, tack of his brown Oxfords approaching.

"There she is."

As if you were the Venus de Milo.

You grunted, lifting the rug and picking up an abandoned, squashed peach with an ugh! and cursed your sleeping offspring. You stood up with a huff, blowing sweaty hairs off your face, your breasts swinging independently of you.

"How's my darling wife?"

Pristine as ever, crisp and ironed and with the faintest tang of sweat and cologne, you wondered if Kento would ever arrive home looking like he'd been intimately acquainted with a trash can. The day had not yet come. Whiskey-deep eyes drank you in, parched.

Your heart ached with how handsome he looked, and how pathetically mismatched you were against him.

"Kento. You're home."

"Mmmm."

Either in confirmation, or having seen something delicious; you weren't sure. You suspected the latter. You scoffed as his hands reached out to slip round your raggedy waist, and you scoffed, and he shushed you, and you berated him, and he mumbled sweet nothings into your neck until you were finally folded into him, his missing ingredient.

And how he looked at you, as if you'd hung the stars and orchestrated the seasons.

You breathed him in, lax against the brick-wall solidity of him. You could have cried.

You still had sloppy peach remnants in your hand as Kento kissed you, soft and mellow and longing. You huffed against his lips.

"Kento, I am a fucking mess--"

"You're lovely--"

"--I absolutely am not--"

"--ravishing--"

"--you're ridiculous--"

"--gorgeous--"

"You're an idiot."

"I've missed you."

"God, I've missed you too. So much. You don't even know."

"I'm sure I do."

You sighed, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of Kento's collarbones, growling away a day of frustration. His chuckles rumbled up, tickling your nose. You rested your cheek against Kento's chest, your weariness bone-deep, having had no agency over your body or your time since dawn.

You surveyed the carnage together in silence; toys strewn as if the bodies of soldiers, abandoned laundry with stains of suspect aetiology, congealed meals, lovingly prepared and never eaten. You felt the weight of the day threaten to overwhelm you, feeling the panic and anxiety climbing, tidal waves on your waterline--

"Sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."

The floodgates almost opened. "I can't do that-- you've had a long day-- so much to do--"

"And, I'll do it."

"No you won't, I--"

"Sit down. And I'll make you a cup of tea."

A single, slow kiss to your sweaty forehead. You sniffled, no strength left for another battle. You offered paltry smiling complaints as Kento nuzzled your hair, gripping you closer, growling into your neck as you squeaked and laughed.

You felt the familiar heavy press and twitch of his cock against you, and he groaned as you squirmed in his grasp, giggling. You caught his eye, as he twinkled down at you, pressing one slow kiss to your lips, possessive and full of promise.

"...I'm not apologising for anything. You look incredible."

"Ridiculous man, Nanami Kento."