#you aren’t enough

[photosofyou]

sometimes i think i would rather not live on the planet if it means to feel this empty at night.

i always give too much for others

i never get put first.

[wanologic]

always good to keep a screamhole handy

[sbnkalny]

When my father And grandfather: "I'M going to write me. in point of no return everybody's super sonic racing - come on, let go (aaaaah), i’m sorry, but love me, I’ll give you something good. If you can't find my old email for my neopets account

[andromedasea]

happy pride to people with ‘contradicting’ identities i love you and you’re doing it right

[marykedoesart]

Day 1: Modern

My favorite couple for Modern AUs is of course Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe!

[remotewatch]

handprints, footprints all on my glass

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1.6k wc

minors dni please and thanks, this is hag business

summary: it’s a short ride from the afterparty to the airport, theoretically

cw: shameless smut, she comes first 💪, dry humping, dom reader sorta, pathetic simp Jack enjoyers make some noise!!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, we’re degrading him a bit whoops, accidental vabbing (?????) girl idk, reader wears the pants not the panties, they’re in one of those Mercedes vans, wear your seatbelts everywhere but here

The jet lag was undoubtedly winning. As luck would have it, the busiest weeks of the year for you and Jack overlapped nearly entirely. It had been nonstop flights, engagements, meetings, press releases, dinner parties, galas, openings of buildings for charities for either dogs or orphans, orphaned dogs maybe, for so long you’d entirely lost track and were ever thankful that most of your speaking assignments were behind you. This last afterparty had fried you both; you didn’t have a single networking conversation left in you. Collapsed opposite you in the jump seat, Jack looked just as spent as you felt.

Of course, he still looked too good. It was fucking sweltering in that venue, and he had loosened his evergreen evening tie and slightly unbuttoned his dress shirt the very second you were shielded by the limo tint. Faint wisps of chest hair peered out from the opening, a fresh tan making his teeth look even whiter. Gun to your head, he’d had his pants taken in too much at the hips, but you’d never say anything that would threaten such a view.

There wasn’t time for that; you were in the home stretch of this hell month and had a packed 16 hour day tomorrow. One last email once over, and you could abandon your work iPad and pass out for the flight back to New York.

“Have you been like that all night?” he asks tentatively.

“Like what?” There’s no immediate response, so you look up from checking tomorrow’s agenda to see Jack shamelessly staring up your cocktail dress at your lack of underwear. The spell breaks when you recross your legs and playfully kick his shin.

“Eyes up here. So what if I was?”

Jack blinks dumbly at you and clears his throat. His eyebrows draw together out of confusion.

“But I saw you get dressed this morning. Where’s that pair I just bought you?”

“They’re wrapped in your pocket square. Did you forget to switch it out for a dry one before lunch?” you ask, holding back a shit-eating grin.

It’s hard to deny the rush you get watching Jack go pale and fish the handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his discarded suit jacket, still sticky from cleaning you up a few hours ago. Sure enough, there’s a crumpled La Perla thong cradled in the middle. You interrupt his stuttering protests when you kick your pumps off and slide a foot up his leg.

“Oh please, like you don’t love walking around smelling like me.”

“I do,” his ears are turning red. “but I hugged like twenty people today!”

“Page six has been trying to pin down that musky “cologne” you use for ages. I think you’re safe.” You briefly wonder if you’re leaking onto the leather seats, but that train of thought is halted by Jack’s hand reaching to remove his tie.

“Keep it on.”

He snaps to attention at the direct order.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I like my handle.”

“Do you come with an off switch?”

Break lights flash on in the surrounding lanes. Just your luck; it’s complete gridlock in the few miles between here and the airpark. Maybe there was a little time.

Your foot slides higher, and Jack hisses through his teeth at the contact.

“Why don’t you try and find it?”

There’s barely a millisecond of hesitation before he falls onto you, licking stripes of sweat off your skin from your cleavage to your cheekbones. As always, he’s loud in the way that only a guy who never gets told to shut the fuck up can be: every breath shudders its way out, and he’s basically whimpering into your mouth by the time he gets there, louder when his right hand finds you, in fact, dripping all over the seat. You doubt you’ll ever get used to how thick his fingers are, or the vulgar noises they make when he’s showing off his grip strength knocking on your g spot.

He’d rolled his shirt sleeves up for the afterparty, but his watch was still squarely in the splash zone, and for the briefest of moments you wonder if it’s as waterproof as the cheaper ones he wears surfing. The thought is quickly pushed aside as Jack works you until you’re jolting off the seat trying to get his fingers deeper.

One good yank on his hair gets him off your neck, and he’s so dazed and fucked out already that you almost cum right there.

“Someone looks hungry,” you tease.

“Fuck, please let me-“ He’s cut off by the van suddenly lurching forward and throwing you both off balance, leaving only your vice grip on his tie keeping him in place. There’s a filthy squelch when he pulls his fingers out to suck them clean as he sinks down to his knees. It’s so warm that your dress is sticking to your thighs, and he rapidly loses patience trying to slide it up to your waist.

“This is a rental!” you squeal when the fabric rips, spraying sequins all over the floor. Jack doesn’t even flinch and wraps his lips snugly around your clit.

“Whatever, I’ll buy it,” he mumbles without breaking contact. You find yourself sliding down the sweat slick leather to grind against his face, and he has the nerve to lean back to watch your hips buck desperately.

“I love when you chase it,” he grins. Without missing a beat, you lock your legs around his head and shut him up against you.

“Don’t fucking tease me. I’m not the one humping the floor like a dog.” The mumbly, docile “sorry” that vibrates through you is the hottest thing he’s said all day. And he really is, if his overly enthusiastic slurping indicates anything. Those rapid, precise little strokes of his tongue always froth you up like he’s got a mouthful of soap. By the time you get tired of spelling your name on his nose and shove him to the floor to straddle his face, he’s completely lathered in you.

He lets out a little bleat of surprise when you roughly grab his hair and start manhandling him as if he’s a wet wipe, though he really should expect it by now. Normally, you’d be distractingly aware of the very real possibility the driver can hear the way you’re snarling his name, but time is not on your side right now. The last break lights recede, leaving the compartment only lit by dim blue under-seat bulbs. Your movements grow more frenzied; you’re totally disregarding Jack’s lung capacity and not even aiming for his mouth anymore, just using his whole face like it’s all he’s made for. Right as you begin to worry you have nothing left in the tank due to the lunch commute, a muffled, drawn-out “please” from beneath you sends you tumbling right over the edge. Your orgasm hits you more like a tranquilizer than anything else as the last dregs of your energy drench his face.

As soon as he feels your contractions lessen, he’s tossing you off to sit on his thighs and fumbling with his belt buckle. The van makes a hard right turn onto the final road to the airpark, and Jack lets out a frustrated groan knowing the clock is ticking. Still, he knows not to get in your way when you shove his hands away and slide right back on top of his dick, so hard you can feel the heat radiating through the fabric. You know you’re fucking up his dress pants grinding on him like this, but if nothing else, the linen will dry fast.

“I’m sleeping on the plane whether you finish or not, so make it work.” He doesn’t have enough time to be pissed at you, and he knows it. The sight of him so desperately rutting up against you is nearly enough to get you there all over again. All the tendons in his neck stand out as he presses his lips together trying to focus. His legs splay frantically in an attempt to ground himself, one jet black Oxford wedging under the jump seat and the other pressed flat against the far window. Jack’s head tips back and his eyes screw up in concentration, but you can’t have that, no matter how tasty his Adam’s apple looks. You loop his tie around your hand one more time and yank him back to earth,

“Uh-uh. Look at me when I’m making you cum.” That’ll do it. His expression softens then freezes as his eyes unfocus and his mouth falls open. He sounds downright melodic when he cums, just one long note that gets bounced up and down the scale before trailing off to a whine, and you relish every little twitch of him spilling into his pants, so far from you but certainly close enough.

The van rolls to a stop, and suddenly it’s a fumbling nightmare of you both trying to fish your shoes out from under the seats and smooth each others hair. You snatch Jack’s blazer to cover the rip in your dress, shove the iPad and pocket square-thong mess into your work bag, and throw the door open with what you hope is a believable amount of nobody-get-between-me-and-my-lie-flat-seat urgency.

Wobbly legs insist you grab his hand to step out of the van, and, of course, there’s a fucking pap pressed to the tarmac fence. Jack’s reflexes don’t stand a chance at turning him away in time after what you’ve put him through. When the flash catches his face, you can only look horrified as it perfectly captures the shine you’ve left on him.

Gossipy headlines and vague, tasteful PR statement drafts are already zipping through your head. Add it to the agenda: 16.5 hour day incoming.

[wield-the-mighty-pen]

To specify (because there is a character limit in polls), I am asking if it’s okay for consumers of your work to leave comments with criticism of the show and also if you are okay with people leaving comments with constructive criticism of your work

If you can, specify what type of creator you are in the tags!

[b4rfbrain]

playing it cool is soooo incredibly stupid

tell people you love them. tell them you miss them or think about them all the time. respond right away. text them first.

people are so cold but being warm feels so good. close interpersonal relationships that hold meaning are one of the best things that this world has to offer. don’t deny yourself from that experience out of pride or fear of rejection.

[kynibyou]

to those who struggle with having an f/o that is especially exceptional or talented — just know that you don’t have to be “on par” with their abilities to be deserving of them! they love you for who you are and the love you give — not for what you can do or what you “bring” to the table! they love you as you are, regardless of perceived abilities, talents, or limitations.

[here-comes-the-moose]

Plot twist: Rex let Echo go with the Bad Batch because he took one look at Tech and Crosshair and their Twin Shenanigans™️ and was like “I have the perfect opportunity for karma right here”.

[fumifooms]

another detail for bugliker shuro: in the chapter 60 cover, his succubus is falin with insect wings & legs! a little reminiscent of laios's tbh...

Oh my god you’re RIGHT…

Even at the most mosquito-like we see them be in canon they only have wings and hair-like antennas, not this full fit with collar and extra legs… The wings don’t look the same… Oh my god Toshiro’s ideal is a bug wife

[e-von-dahl]

I cannot take any man’s complaints that women don’t like him because of superficial bullshit seriously, my dude the whole of europe is in love with a 5’4 guy with a bowl cut I guarantee it’s not your height or fashion sense that’s holding you back

[overlysour]

#CRYO CHARACTERS♡-THEIR VOICELINES ABOUT YOU

Includes: Kaeya, Shenhe, Ganyu, Mika, Rosaria, Qiqi, Chongyun, Layla, Ayaka, Eula, Freminet & Diona.

Kaeya

About [Name]:

“Oh, [Name]? Yes, they’re my significant other, why? You’re not taking a liking to them, I hope. Of course, with such a personality, I’d have to fight off many people but I’d prefer if it weren’t you, traveler.. Hah, just joking with you! But yes, [Name] is indeed my lover.”

Shenhe

About [Name]:

“You’re asking about [Name]? Oh, I see. They are someone who I always feel comfortable with, much like yourself but more intimate. They have always seen me as human, despite my upbringing, and approached me very willingly, asking me if I was okay.”

Ganyu

About [Name]:

“Oh! My opinion on them? Well, they’re wonderful! They’re someone who always helps me take breaks, someone who always asks if I’m okay and mostly importantly, someone who I care deeply for..”

Mika

About [Name]:

“[Name] is a reliable teammate and person in general. No matter what situation either of us get in, we always help each other!”

Rosaria

About [Name]

“I don’t see why you’re asking me about them but [Name] is someone who’s trustworthy, I’m completely sure of that. Huh, are we friends?.. I guess you could call it that”

Qiqi

About [Name]

“Mm? Oh, [Name]?.. Much like an older sibling…”

Chongyun

About [Name]

“I greatly admire [Name] and I have nothing but respect for them! They often save me from Xingqiu’s antics whilst somehow not falling victim to them, I’m not sure how they manage, to be honest..”

Layla

About [Name]

“They’re definitely someone you can go to when in need of help or maybe even just a chat! [Name] always helps me with my sleeping problems, I’m often quite unsure how to pay them back for it…”

Ayaka

About [Name]

“Oh, you don’t know them? That’s a surprise, I was under the impression most people aquatinted with me did! Well, how do I say this… [Name] is my lover so most people close to me know of them”

Eula

About [Name]

“You wish to know about [Name]? What is your reason for such, are they in trouble? .. They’re not? Good then.”

Diona

About [Name]

“[Name]?!…. Y-you know them? They’re always telling me to go easy on the wine industry, which is totally annoying, but I guess they help me sometimes.. Agh, no, I do not think they’re cool!!”

Freminet

About [Name]

“[Name] often waits above the water whilst I’m diving, they sometimes even join me. ..Do I look forward to it? Ah, well, yes..!”

[fluffyartbl0g]

Someone get this man a younger sibling that ISNT like. Twice his height.

[tariah23]

oooooo white people in my replies really saying ‘I can excuse racism but I draw the line at homophobia’

Not surprised since this is the site that only talks about racism and thinks it’s a big deal when they see it demonstrated in the cartoons and comics they like *coughs* dungeonmeshi *coughs* (for example at least. I haven’t seen THIS many white ppl talk as in depth about racism on here as much as these fandom nerds, man. I stg. Like “Ohhhh, so you all DO acknowledge that racism is real? Just not in real life even if you could feel it slapping you in the face at high speed. Gotcha.” It’s crazy.

Tumblr is like, 90% white and is extremely centered around them. That’s why you barely see stuff that’s important to black and brown people ever trending here or being talked about. It has to be something incredibly huge to the point where even white people can’t ignore it like they usually do, to talk about it here.

They only talked about George Floyd here because the topic of his death became world news. Even people in other countries were talking about it. Before him, it was probably Ferguson and Trayvon Martin… most of them are still trying their best to ignore the genocides because it’s a “touchy subject.” What do you expect from white people who live in their own bubbles of comfort and refuse to pop it with a needle??? They find comfort in their privilege and faux ignorance (they love playing stupid to avoid conversations about important things outside of fandoms like, are these mfs born with half a brain dedicated to fandom or what.) That’s literally all these mfs make a big deal out of, especially on this annoying ass platform. The ao3 mfs will go to war for the site that allows racist ff and cp like it’s no big deal. I wonder how many people here even donated to the site while actively scrolling past dono posts from folks who really do need help. They act like they’re doing a civil service by defending this site that makes over the amount of it’s intended dono goal in minutes.

Then you already know as soon as you even bring up racism in the stuff they like, they start ganging up and harassing black bloggers especially, calling them TERFs and the whole nine. Anything to make that person look bad for being concerned about the racism that they have such an intense aversion to. God, it’s absolutely exhausting knowing that these people would have no problem choosing a cartoon character over your entire existence if they COULD. Isn’t that fucking sad, man?

[formerprincewille]

Something that really sets Wille and Simon apart from other queer ships is that when we say their love language is physical touch, IT REALLY IS PHYSICAL TOUCH. And I’m not speaking of just sex. Over the course of the show, the amount of touching between them is astronomical. And that’s really something rarely seen in queer media. There may be moments here or there, but often times there’s a lack of physical contact unless it’s for “the plot”. Wille and Simon feel like a real couple in the way they’re always physically reaching out for each other.