an important lesson about making mistakes:
you can still get a cookie
How does a robot eat a cookie?
I think you misunderstand mailbot’s intentions
Its so cute. Have a feel good thing on your dash.
Show & Tell

roma★

JBB: An Artblog!
art blog(derogatory)

titsay
wallacepolsom

blake kathryn

No title available
Jules of Nature
h
Misplaced Lens Cap
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Monterey Bay Aquarium

#extradirty
Cosmic Funnies
No title available
Cosimo Galluzzi

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

Love Begins

JVL
seen from Malaysia

seen from Iraq

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Spain

seen from Kenya

seen from Azerbaijan
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

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seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
@malia-yes
an important lesson about making mistakes:
you can still get a cookie
How does a robot eat a cookie?
I think you misunderstand mailbot’s intentions
Its so cute. Have a feel good thing on your dash.
All of the Stilinski family hugs
Malia Tate + Season 4 smiles.
Nogitsune: a summary (insp. x)
This is Teen Wolf, right?
Oh okay, cool. Just making sure.
Does Neckz 'n Throats do regular features on their favorite member of One Direction?
Important message to all muskrats! We are down to just 12 open registration slots left! A mere DOZEN left, for those of you out there - the few, the proud, the future muskrats of the world - to come claim as your own!
Registration is over at the LJ muskrat jamboree comm, and for the cost of one reg fee, you - yes, YOU! - will become one of us, taken into the inner circle of the high society of Muskrat Jamboree-ers.
If you want to to discuss knotting in passionate detail, if you want to dance your heart out, if you want to drink yourself silly, if you want to put googly eyes on Harry Styles and Dylan O’Brien - ALL THIS AND MORE AWAITS YOU, IN VIBRANT CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS.
COME. JOIN US. Twelve - COUNT ‘EM, TWELVE - more slots need to be filled, and we want YOU for the Muskrat Jamboree!
COME ON YOU STUPID IDIOTS. COME DO A SHOT WITH ME AND LET ME TOUCH YOUR ELBOW WHILE MAKING UNCOMFORTABLE EYE CONTACT!!! CHRIST.
ONLY 12 CHANCES LEFT TO GET DRUNK AND CRY ABOUT STEREK WITH MEEEEEEEEEEE
science side of tumblr please explain dylan o’brien
Stiles+ being manhandled by men
pretending to be a virgin
you KNOW IT.
okay, so stiles and derek have been fucking around for a while. Started casually, when stiles gets back from college with a string of amicable breakups behind him (he exchanges christmas cards. With all of them.) and Derek’s finally got a job as a deputy and started thinking about getting a kitchen installed in the loft. So it’s good, they’re both kind of in the right place to have some form of very casual adult relationship, the type where they can 69 as they watch the game and still get to see their team score, and they eat cereal straight from the box in their underwear. They’ve got a groove going on, it’s fantastic, they exchange handies in the supply closet at the station and Derek solemnly promises not to tell anyone that Stiles cries during sex if it’s good enough. It’s FINE.
It’s not just sex. They talk, too, have conversations that seem to plunge right into the kind of abyss Stiles used to skirt around with Derek. They talk about family, love, soulmates. They talk about the mets and the dodgers, failed relationships, Derek’s brief period as a go-go dancer at a low rent version of the birdcage. And then, one night, with the fan humming low and the sweat sticking to their backs and thighs, they get onto first times. And there’s this note of sadness that thrums through Derek’s voice, and if he knew how, Stiles would say something comforting but he’s kind of terrible at that kind of thing, so he does this awkward shoulder punch and pulls at Derek’s chest hair until Derek pins him to the bed for round two.
Read More
Deputy Allison Argent
Inspired by (x)
let’s be real, if jackson was still in beacon hills during season three he would’ve run dark stiles over with his lamborghini
Inspired by this product and drunktuesdaze's nipple fic from this morning I came up with this while I was half asleep at a boring ass movie this afternoon.
*
They've been running through the woods for what feels like hours, and being trapped inside a cave really shouldn't be an upgrade, but Stiles is thankful for the chance to finally catch his breath. His endurance has improved from last year, but he still feels like his lungs are about to cave in on themselves.
His whole chest in a mess, really. His nipples are chaffed to hell and he thinks maybe he was too hasty to make fun of Isaac for using so much fabric softener.
Derek is watching him suspiciously and he tries not to fidget, but he's struggling to keep his t-shirt away from his nipples, and a breeze keeps catching it. Seriously, how is there even a breeze in a cave?
"Are you hurt?" Derek asks, leaning forward and sniffing the air.
"No, I'm not hurt. My nipples are just on fire. Ouchless my ass."
"Oh." Derek looks away and shifts nervously.
"It's not a big deal. I'm not at Uta Pippig levels or anything."
"I have something for that," Derek blurts out and immediately turns bright red.
"You have something for my swollen, chafed nipples just on you?" Stiles repeats slowly.
"Yeah, I have... nipple balm." Derek says, examining the ceiling of the cave closely. "I, um, use it as lip balm."
"I have never been so happy that you are the weirdest werewolf on the face of the planet! Gimme gimme gimme!"
Derek rolls his eyes, but reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a medicinal looking tube. As Stiles struggles to hike his shirt up to his armpits without jostling his nipples, Derek dips his ring finger into the ointment and spreads it delicately across his lips. Stiles' mouth suddenly feels very dry.
"Ok, pass it over big guy, these things aren't going to soothe themselves."
Derek holds out his hand, but at that moment the cave shakes violently and they watch in agonizing slow motion as the balm bounces out of Derek's hand and rolls out of the mouth of the cave. Derek sighs and Stiles whimpers pathetically.
They sit in awkward, defeated silence until Derek turns to look seriously at Stiles. "I'm going to fix this." Stiles starts to tell him not to go out there, it's not worth it, but Derek is ducking his head and leaning towards him.
"Um, what are you doing?"
"I just applied some. It hasn't all absorbed yet."
"Ok, but why not just use your finger?" Stiles asks breathlessly.
"Because, then some will absorb into my fingertip and we're not exactly flush with nipple balm right now," Derek says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. He raises his eyebrows to ask if he can continue and Stiles waves his hand feebly.
Derek leans against him and Stiles hadn't realized how cold he was. He gasps when Derek ghosts a warm breath over his nipple. Derek's lips are so, so soft when they brush lightly across him and Stiles holds his breath, not trusting the kinds of noises he might make.
Derek rolls the nub between his lips and it's simultaneously the best and worst thing Stiles has ever felt. Derek moans low in his throat and then freezes and jumps back like he's been burned.
"Derek, buddy." Stiles reaches his hand out slowly, trying not to spook him further. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry. I've just thought about that a lot."
"You've thought about using your lips to apply nipple balm on me a lot?"
"No, your nipples. I've thought about your nipples a lot."
"You've thought about my NIPPLES a lot?" Stiles exclaims, a little too loudly for someone who's supposed to be hiding.
"They get really hard and puffy!" Derek says helplessly. "It's distracting."
Stiles pauses for a moment, trying to catch up with every thing he thought he'd understood about Derek Hale getting turned on its head.
"You know, I've heard dogs use their tongues to heal and soothe each other." Derek glares at him. "And I KNOW you're not a dog, but if you wanted to use your tongue, maybe that might help?"
Boyfriends sharing clothes.
danny mahealani + text posts
HIS NIPS THO TELL ME MORE
Perhaps stiles spends some time running for his life. Perhaps he didn’t KNOW he was going to be running for his life, maybe he would have dressed differently. Maybe he wouldn’t have been wearing that long sleeve henley that rubbed just the wrong way.
He eases his shirt over his head and looks at himself in the mirror, wincing at his swollen, pinked up nipples. They ache, sensitive to the cool air.
He hears the window slide open, and turns, clapping his hands over his chest. “Not a good time,” he says, gritting his teeth against the burn.
"I know," Derek says tentatively. "I thought maybe I could help," and he’s brandishing something, a little pink pastel jar.
Stiles thinks about kicking Derek out, of maintaining the dignity and self respect of not resorting to nipple balm for breastfeeding mothers.
Then his fingers twitch involuntarily, catching the nub of his nipple just enough to make him wince.
"Yeah, okay," he says. He sits down on the bed, and with Derek’s urging, lies back against his pillows. Derek pries his hands away from his chest, baring his sore nipples to view.
"You’ll be fine," Derek murmurs as he gently, tenderly, rubs the balm into Stiles’s skin. "I’ve got you."