Starbucks & Stormtroopers @nerdbaitplus3 - Tumblr Blog

New planner, who dis?

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Moved into a Kikki K personal rings planner from their new Aline in Michael’s. Went for a pink manga/Japanese theme with my setup. Will probably film a flip-through once I finish printing inserts.

#personalrings #personalplanner #planner #planners #anime #anime planner #plannerstuff #plannersgottaplan #fandomplanner #manga #pink manga #manga edit

tsuloveskano

♥ my edit♥

aaronminier

Drew this Maleficent for Planet Pulp

princessesfanarts

Belle by HollyBell

katsukisprincess-deactivated202

kinktober day three: body worship with Tamaki

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Amajiki Tamaki was a soft man, but in no way was he a soft lover.

{name} knew this. So why, in the name of fuck, was she surprised the night that Tamaki came home and tackled her into their bed?

“Oh!” {name} squeaked, falling flat onto their mattress. Her lover’s body lingering over hers, the smell of his shower soap filling up the air, filling her nostrils and taking over her senses. Tamaki latched onto her neck, sucking on the soft skin for dear life, already letting out soft grunts. He was holding his weight up off of her by leaning on his forearm, but their bodies were still completely aligned. His other hand snaked to the back of her head, tangling in her locks and holding her at an angle to better reach her neck.

It took him a long time to get to this level of comfort in their relationship. Before, he was timid, never wanting to make the first move in fear of rejection. {name} picked up on this and initiated a conversation about all of their feelings; the last thing she wanted was for the love of her life to be nervous around her. She knew anxiety was unavoidable for him, but she wanted to be a safe space away from his thoughts, somewhere he can turn when his heart gets heavy. After that night, Tamaki became much more comfortable with her, something she thanked the universe for daily.

She felt so lucky to be with Tamaki, especially on the nights that ended like this.

Tamaki was grinding his hips into hers, his mouth still latched, and {name] knew she was going to have another very large hickey on her skin. Her hero costume did well to cover these spots, but she still reached around to pull his mouth off of her. She let out a groan as Tamaki only traveled higher, now sucking on the sensitive spot right under her ear.

“Tama, baby, I-”

“Please.” His voice was nearly a growl, catching {name} off-guard. She froze, and Tamaki pulled away to look into her eyes, suddenly embarrassed. He quickly hid his face in the crook of her neck. “I-I wanna m-make you feel good.”

Almost instantly, {name} felt heat pool between her legs. There were nights where Tamaki absolutely ravaged her in bed, ignoring his own pleasure for hours as he worshipped her from head to toe. He was always shy about this, before and after, but the personality that came out from him was something she didn’t get to see very often. In response to his words, she whined and bucked against him, causing him to hiss in a breath and take it as permission to continue.

Tamaki stood up, making sure not to hurt her soft frame. He offered his hands to pull her up, and as soon as she was standing he pulled her shirt from her body. He let out a shaky breath when her tits fell out, not having realized before that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He pressed fervent kisses from her collarbone, across her chest, around her breasts and down to her abdomen. Tamaki was sloppy when he reached the spot right above her shorts, his tongue coming out to lick away at the bare skin as he pulled and twisted at one of her nipples. She whined and shimmied out of her shorts herself, now standing completely nude in front of her lover. He sat back on his heels for a moment and groaned, his hands running down the entirety of her body.

“You’re a work of art.” Tamaki whispered, biting on her thigh and wrapping one of his hands on the other. He was so close to her heat now that he could smell the lust, an intoxicating trait that only made him want to pleasure her more. {name} knew that he would sit like this and kiss on her for hours if she let him, and part of her really did want to allow him that. But right now, she needed more.

{name} let out a whiny sigh again and began rubbing her thighs together, trying to show Tamaki, who easily took the hint, how much she needed him. He stood back up and stripped down to his boxers before pulling her back to the bed. This time, he sat against the headboard, opening his legs and patting on his thighs for her to sit between. She climbed up, maybe too eagerly, and fell into place, her back pressed flush against his broad chest.

Tamaki slid his right hand down to slip between her pussy lips, and {name} could feel his heartbeat speed up as he realized how fucking drenched she was.

All for him, he realized. This was all because of him.

His fingers flitted around, spreading her juices before he stuck one finger into her. She grasped onto his left bicep, which was over her shoulder as he grabbed roughly onto one of her tits. A moan fell out of her mouth at the same time a shaky breath fell out of his. She was tight, but he was patient in stretching her out, letting his middle finger inch in slowly until he was knuckle deep. {name} was mewling and squirming, trying to get more friction, which Tamaki happily allowed. He pulled his finger out before going back in, starting a slow rhythm until he felt like she was ready for two fingers. Then went in his ring finger, and he was a little more rough with his movements.

Before long, he had his teeth sunk in her shoulder, one hand still messing with her nipples as the other was slapping in and out of her pussy at a frantic pace. Tamaki had the perfect view of her body from where he was, and he couldn’t help but notice every single movement. The way her stomach would tense up, the way sweat droplets would shine against her skin before pooling on the mattress. {name} was grabbing both him and the sheets, pushing back against Tamaki’s chest and arching her back. Loud moans and cries filled the room, met with the squelching from Tamaki’s movements.

All of it was so much for Tamaki to take in, and he found himself grinding up against her as she pushed back, his aching and leaking onto his boxers.

“You’re so beautiful, bunny,” he murmured to her, his chin resting on her shoulder still. He was panting as much as she was, drunk from the sights and the smells on the bed. “Your pussy is so pretty for me. You’re taking me so well,” his hand sped up as her whines increased in volume, his wrist slapping against her. “Ngh, y-you’re so fucking perfect when you’re dripping down my hand like that.”

His left hand let go of her tit to reach down and play with her swollen clit. She nearly cried in response, bucking her hips up just to push back against him. He brought his fingers to her mouth and she sucked hard, coating them with the saliva he wanted to bring to her clit. His eyes rolled back into his head at the feeling, the situation taking over his body and making him let out a long, deep groan. He settled back to between her legs, rubbing circles onto her bud again.

The mix of the two had {name} at her end, and Tamaki could feel this as she squeezed his fingers and screamed his name. “Yes,” he growled into her ear, his arms tensing at the speed he was moving at. “Cum on me, bunny. Cover me. Please, baby.” His last words were whines, and it was enough to send her into one of the strongest orgasms she’s had. Tamaki kept moving until she pushed him away, panting and giggling at the sensitivity.

{name} stayed laying against his back as Tamaki pressed featherlight kisses along her shoulder. She eventually rolled over, beginning to pull down Tamaki’s boxers and mentioning something about how it was his turn.

He couldn’t move fast enough to stop her, though, and when {name} noticed he had came in his boxers already, he wanted to crawl into a hole for the rest of his life.

She was staring, no plans of stopping anytime soon, and it was making him anxious. He wrapped her into a bear hug, rolling until he was back on top of her and could bury his face into her neck. {name} started to fall asleep until she felt something twitch against her thigh, making her spring back to reality. Her eyes opened wide, and she looked down at her boyfriend, who was once again crimson.

“W-wanna go again?”

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Watching Yuri on Ice for the first time today

Didn’t even realize it just had it’s 3rd anniversary yesterday either

Call it fate ✨

...it’s also giving me all the feels that I can’t stand it! 😭

#yuri on ice #yoi #anime #yuri plisetsky #viktor nikiforov #yuri katsuki

awbwi

Smirk~

heartsnmagic

chief-of-project-e

Irish people; The faeries aren’t real

Irish people; No fucking way will I go in that faerie ring

queer-trans-amazon-deactivated2

#look#you don’t go in a fairy ring and you don’t fuck with a stone in the middle of a field#these are just facts#nobody does it#fairies will fuck you up#Ireland#folklore#fairies (Via @false-dawn)

false-dawn

Look, I don’t believe in God, but I will not disrespect the Good Gentlemen of the Hills. That’s just common sense.

ohmeursault

Between this and the Icelanders with their elves I do not understand what is going on above the 50th parallel.

superindianslug

My general rule of thumb: you don’t have to believe in everything, but don’t fuck with it, just in case.

elocinneem-deactivated20160605

^^^ that part

dduane

This is truer than true. Especially the Irish part.

Let me tell you what I know about this after living here for nearly thirty years.

This is a modern European country, the home of hot net startups, of Internet giants and (in some places, some very few places) the fastest broadband on Earth. People here live in this century, HARD.

Yet they get nervous about walking up that one hill close to their home after dark, because, you know… stuff happens there.

I know this because Peter and I live next to One Of Those Hills. There are people in our locality who wouldn’t go up our tiny country road on a dark night for love or money. What they make of us being so close to it for so long without harm coming to us, I have no idea. For all I know, it’s ascribed to us being writers (i.e. sort of bards) or mad folk (also in some kind of positive relationship with the Dangerous Side: don’t forget that the root word of “silly”, which used to be English for “crazy”, is the Old English _saelig_, “holy”…) or otherwise somehow weirdly exempt.

And you know what? I’m never going to ask. Because one does not discuss such things. Lest people from outside get the wrong idea about us, about normal modern Irish people living in normal modern Ireland.

You hear about this in whispers, though, in the pub, late at night, when all the tourists have gone to bed or gone away and no one but the locals are around. That hill. That curve in the road. That cold feeling you get in that one place. There is a deep understanding that there is something here older than us, that doesn’t care about us particularly, that (when we obtrude on it) is as willing to kick us in the slats as to let us pass by unmolested.

So you greet the magpies, singly or otherwise. You let stones in the middle of fields be. You apologize to the hawthorn bush when you’re pruning it. If you see something peculiar that cannot be otherwise explained, you are polite to it and pass onward about your business without further comment. And you don’t go on about it afterwards. Because it’s… unwise. Not that you personally know any examples of people who’ve screwed it up, of course. But you don’t meddle, and you learn when to look the other way, not to see, not to hear. Some things have just been here (for various values of “here” and various values of “been”) a lot longer than you have, and will be here still after you’re gone. That’s the way of it. When you hear the story about the idiots who for a prank chainsawed the centuries-old fairy tree a couple of counties over, you say – if asked by a neighbor – exactly what they’re probably thinking: “Poor fuckers. They’re doomed.” And if asked by anybody else you shake your head and say something anodyne about Kids These Days. (While thinking DOOMED all over again, because there are some particularly self-destructive ways to increase entropy.)

Meanwhile, in Iceland: the county council that carelessly knocked a known elf rock off a hillside when repairing a road has had to go dig the rock up from where it got buried during construction, because that road has had the most impossible damn stuff happen to it since that you ever heard of. Doubtless some nice person (maybe they’ll send out for the Priest of Thor or some such) will come along and do a little propitiatory sacrifice of some kind to the alfar, belatedly begging their pardon for the inconvenience.

They’re building the alfar a new temple, too.

Atlantic islands. Faerie: we haz it.

pamisleyphd

The Southwest is like this in some ways. You don’t go traveling along the highways at night with an empty car seat. Because an empty car seat is an invitation. You stick your luggage, your laptop bag, whatever you got in that seat. Else something best left undiscussed and unnamed (because to discuss it by name is to go ‘AY WE’RE TALKING BOUT YA WE’RE HERE AND ALSO IGNORANT OF WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF’ at the top of your damn lungs at them) will jump in to the car, after which you’re gonna have a bad time.

If you’re out in the woods, you keep constant, consistent count of your party and make sure you know everyone well enough that you can ID them by face alone, lest something imitating a person get at you. They like to insert themselves in the party and just observe before they strike. It’s a game to them. In general you don’t fuck with the weird, you ignore the lights in the sky (no, this isn’t a god damn night vale reference, yes I’m serious) and the woods, you lock up at night and you don’t answer the door for love or money. Whatever or whoever’s knocking ain’t your buddy.

thefingerfuckingfemalefury

^ So much good advice in this post right here

weirdo-city

I live in the south and… you just… don’t go into the woods or fields at night.

Don’t go near big trees in the night

If you live on a farm, don’t look outside the windows at night

I have broken all these rules.

I’ve seen some shit.

If it sounds like your mom, but you didn’t realize your mom is home…. it’s not your mom. Promise.

One walked onto the porch once. Wasn’t fun. But they’re not super keen on guns. Typically bolt when they see one.

You think it’s the neighbor kids.

It’s not the neighbor kids.

Might sound like coyotes but you never really /see/ the coyotes but then wow that one cow was reaaaaaally fucked up this morning. The next night when you hear another one screaming you just turn the tv up a little more. Maybe fire a gun in the air but you don’t go after it. If it is coyotes then it’s probably a pack and you seriously don’t want to fuck with that and if it’s the other thing you seriously REALLY don’t want to fuck with that.

So in the south, especially near the mountains, you just go straight from your car to inside your house, draw your curtains and watch tv.

If you see lights in the fields just fucking leave it alone.

Eyes forward. Don’t be fucking stupid. Mind your own business. Call your neighbors and tell them to bring the cats in. There’s coyotes out. Some of them know. Most of them don’t.

Other than that everything’s a ghost and they died in the civil war. Literally all of everything else is just the civil war. We used to smell old perfume and pipe tobacco in the weeks leading up to the battle anniversaries.

Shit’s wild and I sound fucking crazy but I swear to god it’s true.

witchy-woman

Every time this post comes around, it’s my favorite to open up the notes and read the stories. Probably shouldn’t have since I’m sleeping alone tonight, but you know, it’s fine. 😂

mistresstrevelyan

Austrian girl here who has lived in Ireland for 5+ years. This shit is LEGIT. I’ve seen it with my own two Catholic eyes.

Sure, visit during the day. That’s alright as long as you’re respectful. But you couldn’t PAY ME ENOUGH to go there at night. These are also the last places where you wanna start littering.

gayantlers

I grew up in southwest Pennsylvania which is a weird mixture of American cultures and environments. I was in the heavily forested mountains (northern Appalachia) but had lots and lots of corn fields and cow pastures. Like the Smoky Mountains and fields of Kansas combined. And being so cut off from a lot of the world, we had our fair share of ghost stories.

We had ‘witches’ in the mountains (more like ghost-women who will snatch you up by making you wander in a daze around the forest like the Blair Witch before killing you or letting you back out into society but you’re… different). Or devils in springs or abandoned wells (don’t look too long into one or something will follow you).

But we also had the cornfield demons. I’ve witnessed this many times. You’ll be in the passenger seat looking out the window and see red glowing eyes in the cornfield. No light shining in that direction. Just two red dots a few inches apart faintly glowing in a pitch black cornfield. They’re not the glow of deer eyes in the headlights. More like the embers of a dying fire. Sometimes, as you drive away, you’ll look out the back window or side mirror and you can see the eyes have moved to the edge of the corn field, still watching you. If you bring it up with the driver, they’ll call you paranoid, but grip the wheel a bit tighter and driver a little faster.

I was walking to a friend’s house one night. It was about 20 minutes down a dirt road with forest on one side and a cornfield on the other. I’ve walked past it many times and wasn’t really concerned. My main worry was coming across a skunk or porcupine. I didn’t have a flashlight because the moonlight was bright enough and I knew the walk really well. Then I saw the eyes. I immediately averted mine (because for some reason that’s how to not annoy it) but they kept wandering back. They were still there, watching. I heard rustling and saw the eyes come closer and I took off running. I got to my friends without a scratch, but I was terrified. I mentioned it to my friend and that’s when I found out it was A Thing. Her parents agreed and shared their stories. I brought it up more and almost everyone knew what I was talking about. It was a phenomenon a lot of folks around town experienced but never mentioned. To this day, I don’t linger around poorly light cornfields at night.

breelandwalker

Faeries and Wee Folk and Liminal Spaces, oh myyyy…

I just…yes. This. All of this. And then some.

You don’t have to understand it. You don’t have to believe in it.

But if you know what’s good for you, DON’T FUCK WITH IT.

colorfulcipher

I was born and raised in the city. My grandparents lived in the outskirts, but then decided to move back to a small mountain town my grandmother’s family used to live in. By small I mean it has less than 20 houses, and everyone knows everyone. It is an old little place, perched on the side of the mountain, with buildings made of stones. Right under it, there are fields, and then the woods.

The first time I visited (more or less 7 years ago) my grandomother was very careful to warn me not to go out when it’s dark. She’s the same woman who taught me about myths and legends, and told me that there are things wandering around. We don’t know who they are, or what they are, but they like to stroll through the town when they know it’s quiet. Usually they are calm, but sometimes they try to get people to come with them back into the woods. They make you see things, imitate noises and voices. They won’t let you come back.

I was skeptical, but I obeyed.

Fast forward to 3 years ago.

I was spending the month with my grandparents, and it was only the three of us since my family decided to stay in Rome. One day around 9 pm (the sun had just set) I was in the kitchen on the second floor, reading at the table, when I my grandmother called me from the garden. The window was open, so I clearly heard her shout “Giorgia! Can you come down a second?”

It wasn’t the first time it had happened: my grandmother had a dog who was pretty old and had trouble walking, so she’d call me down into the garden from time to time to help her move him back inside. But she never asked me to go out at night.

“Is everything okay?” I yelled, still sitting at the table “You need help?”

“Can you come down a second?” she repeated.

I just thought “Meh” and stood up to go downstairs to the lobby and reach the garden-

-and I met my grandmother in the hallway.

I asked her “You don’t need help anymore?”. She just stared at me, so I explained that I heard her call me from the garden.

“You didn’t look down from window, did you?”

I shook my head, and she calmly walked into the kitchen and closed the window.

“You shouldn’t go out, it’s dark.” she told me, getting a bottle of water from the fridge. Like nothing had happened.

“But I heard you call-”

“It’s dark, Giorgia.”

That’s when I fully realized that it wasn’t my grandmother who tried to get me to go out in the night.

And that’s why I don’t fuck with the unknown.

nerdychickshavemorefun

Local legend time.

Here in Central Indiana, there are two local paranormal sites less than ten minutes from my house. The first is Sunken Road.

Sunken Road is this little, one-lane dirt road that runs between two country roads. It runs through a relatively low-lying area that floods a lot, and is pretty marshy in general, covered in this patches of scraggly marsh-forest (a horrible description, but you know what I mean). At one point in the road, it drops down real sharp about five feet, levels out for maybe fifty yards, and goes back up. There’s where the problem is: way back when, they were trying to build a bridge over this dip, because it especially floods. No ones ever said why- I myself probably think it’s an Indian curse, as related to the second legend- but A LOT of people died trying to make this damn bridge. Horses and men drowned or went missing, to the point that they gave up building the thing. You don’t go down this road on a full moon; personally, I think moonless nights are just as bad. People say, on the right night- Halloween, the solstices, New Years, it varies depending on the version- you can still hear the horses scream as they or their masters sink into the muck.

The other legend is Thirteen Graves. Long story short, back in the 1800s, the locals hung a bakers dozen of Indians. Instead of handing the bodies back to the tribe, they buried them in unmarked graves in this local cemetery; I’ve been here only because some of my ancestors are buried there, and Tobago was in broad daylight. Anyway, when they buried these guys, they put these big slabs of rock- limestone or concrete- on top. Can’t remember why, but I’d guess it was to prevent either the locals or the tribe digging them back up. One of the graves particularly is special. Walk along and count them, and you’ll get thirteen; turn and walk back the other way, and you might only get twelve. Supposedly, this one grave, it the right amount of moonlight, gives off a certain glow, though none of the others do. I wouldn’t know; when my friends dragged us there one night, I never got out of the car, and made sure to lock the doors.

guardiansofwolves-deactivated20

Okay look, people always say “Let’s go to Bali for a holiday”, but Bali isn’t known as the Island of the Gods for nothing. Those candle offerings you see next to statues all over the road? And next to trees? They contain beings that you MUST be respectful to. I have heard so many stories of people snuffing candles out, only to accidentally end up in a hospital one way or the other.

Point is, don’t fucking mess with the other side, and be respectful for cultures and old myths even if you don’t believe them.

bluebellbutch

DoNt FuCk WiTh It EsPeCiAlLy If YoU dOnT kNoW mUcH aBoUt/BeLiEvE iT

fashion-runways

RAYANE BACHA Wishful Wanderer Collection 2019

diamozi

rawest fucking lana del rey lyrics in no particular order:

we're the masters of our own fate, we're the captains of our own souls

you never liked the way I said it, if you don't get it then forget it cause I don't have to fucking explain it

maybe my contribution could be as small as hoping that words could turn to birds and birds would send my thoughts your way

I was such a fool for believing that you could change all the ways you've been living but you just couldn't stop

you fucked me so good that I almost said I love you

cause you're just a man, it's just what you do, your head in your hands as you colour me blue

money is the reason we exist, everybody knows it, it's a fact, kiss, kiss

well, shit, at least you tried

I'm tired of feeling like I'm fucking crazy

and I fall to pieces, bitch, I fall to pieces when I'm with you, why?

play them like guitars, you're like one of my toys, no holds barred, I've been sent to destroy

to my own surprise, my love's demise was his own greed and lullabies

it's enough to be young and in love

I want shit to feel just like it used to

the sun also rises on those who fail the call, my life, it comprises of losses and wins and fails and falls

dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily

if he's a serial killer, then what's the worst that can happen to a girl who's already hurt? I'm already hurt

we get so tired and we complain bout how its hard to live, it's more than just a video game

I was dreaming of a lake, dreaming of the water where I'd rise like a phoenix or an iron from the fire

we both know that it's not fashionable to love me but you don't go cause truly, there's nobody for you but me

it turns out everywhere you go, you take yourself, that's not a lie

screw your anonymity, loving me is all you need

but I can't help him, can't make him better

boys, don't make too much noise and don't try to be funny, other people may not understand

they say that the world was built for two, only worth living if somebody is loving you and baby, now you do

fear fun, fear love, fresh out of fucks forever

sometimes love is not enough and the roads get tough, I don't know why

don't ask me if I'm happy, you know that I'm not, but at best I can say I'm not sad

loving him was never enough

you could be a bad motherfucker but that don't make you a man, now you're just another one of my problems

I wait for life to end but it never comes around

they mistook my kindness for weakness

is this love or lust or some game on repeat?

take this veil from off my eyes, my burning sun will some day rise

but sometimes girls just want to have fun, the poetry inside of me is warm like a gun

change is a powerful thing, people are powerful beings, trying to find the power in me to be faithful

you don't ever have to be stronger than you really are when you're lying in my arms and honey, you don't ever have to act cooler than you think you should, you're brighter than the brightest stars

I never really noticed that I had to decide to play someone's game or live my own life

I don't know, I get so wrapped up in a world where nothing's as it seems and real life is stranger than my dreams

I'll save you in the waves if you swim too deep

will you still love me when I shine from words but not from beauty?

but if you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did

I watch the skies getting light as I write, as I think about those years, as I whisper in your ear I'm always going to be right here, no one's going anywhere