#not by any measure perfect

[eggy-tea]

Every so often I think that I was just young and foolish at the time and Agents of Shield wasn't actually a very good show, because how could it be? And then I think, well, maybe some seasons were OK, but some of them must have been complete garbage, right? Just utterly unwatchable dreck? And then I go and watch an episode just to check -- bracing myself the whole time because I'm sure my nostalgia is about to be ruined -- and then... I watch another episode. And another. Then the whole season. And the next... because, turns out, it's a good show.

[dozydawn]

skater tatiana navka liked to get up close & touchy with the blades of her & her partner’s skates. so many lifts where she grips onto the blades or rests her head on his boot. she could not stop touching them. even badly cut her hand once during competition

[looseinthecatroom]

Real talk though;

Can we talk about Sky??

I have many many questions?

(Mostly I just feel bad for her for getting THAT shafted out of literally any independent character??)

Like really, what in the seventeenth circle of fuck was *gestures* her entire plot line/existence?

Genuinely, how is no one talking about this?? Girl is a walking plot thread/plot hole/thematic angle that didn't ACTUALLY get used/black hole of personal autonomy and character development?? What the ACTUAL hell was the idea there??

More rants in the tags. Because my confusion knows no bounds.

[mervynbunter]

Ronald Pickup as The Forger in THE DAY OF THE JACKAL (1973), dir. Fred Zinneman

Forget about makeup. The most important thing is the skin—your skin must look grey and tired. We used the trick in the army to fake illness and get out of fatigue duty. Can you get hold of some cordite?

[3416]

what 1634 fics do you want to see. im not gonna write them im just curious

hello anon......... there are far too many i want to see in this world (literally any at all tbh) but conceptually i have rambled in private about a couple that i really want so buckle up... here are some cliche concepts but idc:

okay my ultimate dream fic is like a 50k fic canon compliant to this point like a decade into the future where auston's been forced to retire a few years earlier bc of a career ending knee injury and never wins the cup and basically. retreats back to az and has to cope with that and gets a Lot of distance from the team/hockey media yada yada. mitch keeps playing hockey but the leafs never win the cup and mitch never feels as fulfilled as he thinks he should be. he never has kids (could go into things here....)... separates w steph.... is on the verge of retiring himself...... the catalyst for him showing up in arizona could be a lot of random things (abt to sign divorce papers... announcing his own retirement soon... also had a whole concept of one of their dads passing away but.) but cue the reunion with someone who you built your whole younger self and younger dreams around and having to relearn the person they've become now. mitch escaping the only place he's ever really called home to really try to feel fully comfortable with himself for the first time vs auston seeing the merging of his old life and his new reality................. i mean. that's the dream. idk. post hockey life crisis with people you can't help but love forever tbh. i have rambled about variations of this one for hours before.

i'm also dying for an auston pornstar fic with a clueless like. business bro mitch or smth. everyone has done the cam boy mitch stuff thanks to his streaming but what about auston... what about these pictures... it's giving casting couch....... i don't really care about the plot necessarily... could go w mitch and auston sleeping together n then befriending each other but NOT sleeping together again for a while. could just straight up do pwp, idk, but auston's whole sleaze ball vibe sometimes.. and the mustache..... we deserve pornstar auston.

also desperate for some magical realism au where one of them makes a deal with the devil to get the team a stanley cup but it goes HORRIBLY awry bc things are never what they seem when you're making deals like that. don't have the details ironed out enough in my head to give a real plan here without sounding stupid but i want the angst and pain and realizing their priorities might not be The Ultimate Hockey Goal like they've always thought.

i've also thought about a lot about a more pwp fic where mitch and auston have this calculated shared ritual of like. getting the new guys on the team/new lineys off to ~help the chemistry~. the whole oh it's just bros thing, but mitch and auston tackling it as a team, one whispering in the ear.. one sinking to his knees... a biiit skeezy bc some of these guys would never in a million years wanna sleep with guys but they pose it like it's gonna help the team and it's just smth they do... don't you wanna feel powerful and see cocky number one goal scorer in the league am34 on his knees for you, random newcomer (haha) 4th liner???

also. thought about another magical realism fic where auston and mitch are at mitch's lakehouse high as fuck and accidentally have a wishbaby bc they're TRYING to manifest success for the team and wish on a star with the wrong wording.... also had a batshit au planned vaguely based on the hangover for mitch's bachelor party which COULD involve vgk crossover since i would set it in vegas for the vibes but.

also had an f1 fic idea where mitch was a driver and auston was one his mechanics. there was way more to this one, but realistically i'd take anything with that as a concept. mitch's life being in auston's hands to some degree and auston taking it Very seriously. also mitch treating his wins like its this shared thing and. auston is just one of tens of people who work on his car but thats his fucking GUY!! imagining mitch getting on the podium n trying to jump at the barriers to get to auston and his whole team.......... pls. also had bunts as one of the guys who changes the wheels and picturing the team letting bunts run the some of the socials. they would be fucking off in that garage BIG TIME filming themselves doing stupid silly shit in all the downtime. also. thinking abt the element of having a Secret relationship or situationship in a setting SO public like f1...... could prob turn that one into a multimedia au somehow, ANYWYA---

i've thought abt so many more too lol. this is what i let myself sit here and spew for the hour but. i'm always down to talk about more or if other ppl have ideas and need to flesh them out. i love to yap abt these men.

[minweber]

I am sorry, Strife, you seem like a good dude and all, but you really, really should have been a backup character.

[girlthingdecay]

.

[infizero]

every time i so much as think about that scene where light looks at porn magazines while scowling i go into hysterics its genuinely the funniest thing i've ever seen

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

You are so right man

[nightingaletrash]

thinking about Sparrow and how both times she reunites with someone from her past, it just makes her feel like a ghost in someone else's skin.

When Derrick greets her in Old Town, its like he's mistaken her for someone else entirely. She's not the little girl who ran around with her big sister, collecting warrants for a gold piece, but she can't bring herself to say so. She doesn't have the words yet, doesn't quite understand where the discomfort is coming from. She brushes it off as a symptom of returning to her childhood home. She's come home, but she and home are different now and she can't really explain it.

But then she comes back from the Spire, and she's changed once more. Before she was hurting. Now she's broken. A bundle of survival instincts wrapped up in the skin of a woman who has come back wrong, and she will never be the same again. She comes home to a husband and a child who don't know her, and she doesn't know them either. She loved them once, and they loved her. But now she's a stranger and she's broken, and nothing matters anymore. Nothing but killing Lucien at all costs. She can't love them the way she used to. Love is for people, and she's not a person. She doesn't know what she is besides her goal.

[lyinginbedmon]

Aha, you fool! You thought you could confuse me by changing the measuring system from metric to imperial, but ye have blundered most foul! For I cannot discern measurement at all! Hahaha!

[alectoperdita]

Thank you for the benefit of a doubt, it 100% was not meant to be hostile. I'm sorry if I came off that way.

I'm also ship and let ship, but I know that gets people uncomfortable a lot so I've been worried about directly interacting too much/worried you'd be uncomfy if I did. That's why I asked ^-^

We're cool. I know I came off a little harsh, but I didn't want to pussyfoot around the subject. It's not a subject I'm interested in debating.

I'm also very comfortable blocking. And I've probably blocked more blogs for posting personally annoying but ultimately harmless takes in the main fandom tags (just tired of seeing "this is why the ending of Duel Monsters sucks and I need to make a dozen posts in a row about it" part 1000) than I have blocked people for shipping whatever ship. Ships I'm not interested in are blacklisted and I scroll right on past.

The upside of anon is I honestly don't have the first clue who you might be. I can barely distinguish how many individual anons come into my ask box. There might be two of you, or a dozen. Who knows. Cuz I don't lol.

That's why I also keep the anon option open as long as it's not abused. If you feel more comfortable coming to me anon, I won't turn you away for that.

[austerulous]

And Ber (213cm) next to Anri please <3

[cupcake-torture]

i want to say that this is something that comes up a lot in paleontology or anything where you are studying a limited sample size of something.

The dinosaur skeleton you just dug up is highly unlikely to be a 'standard' example of the species (hell, sometimes you have so few samples that one species at different ages can be misinterpreted as two separate species).

the lesson is you tend to assume that when all you have to go off is a limited representation of an entire population, you tend to assume what you have is the average when it is almost certainly anything but.

I want to tell a story to the artists and would-be artists out there.

When I was 19, I made a large oil painting of the nerd I would eventually marry. I poured all my attention and care into this painting. It's the only art I have from back then that still holds up as a work I'm proud of today.

I entered it into a judged show at the local art center. It got an honorable mention. I went to see the show with my beloved model. One of the judges came up to talk to me, and highlighted that all the judges really liked the painting. It would have placed, except, you see, the feet were incorrect. They were too wide and short, and if I just studied a bit more anatomy-

I called over my future wife, and asked her to take off her shoe. Being already very used to humoring me, she did. The judge looked at her very short, very wide little foot. Exactly as I'd lovingly rendered it. I would never edit her appearance in any way.

The judge looked me in the eye, and to his credit, he really looked like he meant it when he said "Oh I'm so sorry."

Anyways the moral of the story is that all of those anatomy books that teach you proportions are either showing you averages, or a very specific idea of an idealized body. Actual bodies are much more varied than that.

So don't forget to draw from observation, and remember that humans aren't mass produced mannequins. Delight in our variation. Because it's supposed to be there.

[cassandralexxx]

chat never take methotrexate it sucks and is awful 🙏

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”