giant juicy

  • Jinyoung: Merry Christmas Bambam...I am so happy to call you my friend
  • Bambam: 🎄🎄MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCHES🎄🎄!! Now that it’s finally DICKmas 👅💦Santa’s about to slide 🎅🏾😉 down your hot 🔥 hot 🔥chimney tonight. So lick 💦💋those juicy candy canes and drink up that creamy eggnog🍼, it’s about to get wet down at Santa’s workshop🍆🍆! Don’t forgot to slide down that XXXtra 🎅🏾🎅🏾 big North Pole, and make sure your 🍪 cookie 🍪is yummy enough for Santa to eat👄! 👀 But are you bad enough to handle Santa’s giant juicy 8=candy👊🏼COCK=D💦?? Send this to 🔟 of your baddest bitch elves💁🏼💁🏾 If you get 5️⃣ back, youre on the naughty list this year🍆💦! If you get 🔟 back you better be ready for Santa’s hot ♨️CUMlate☕️💦😭 If you get 2️⃣0️⃣ back you’ve got the most bitchin 🍬peppermint 🍬pussy in the North Pole! ❄️⛄ Hope you get to blow 🌬 lots of XXXmas 🎄dick, and that you get lots of XXXmas 🎄CUMMIES 💝💝 HAVE A SLUTTY 💦🍆👅DICKMAS YOU HOE HOE HOE!!! 🎅🏾🎅🏿🎅🏽🎅🏼
  • Jinyoung: ...
  • Jinyoung: I lied.

anonymous asked:

so i really wanna start writing this nessian long fic but i'm so afraid bc there's so many talented writers in this fandom like you and i just don't know if anyone will like it or even read it idek any advice for people like me who are hesitant to start writing fic for this fandom (or any fandom really)??

Okay okay okay (I suck at advice but I will try okay okay trying:) 

So first things first if you have a thing inside your head that you want to write write it. Get it out of your head. It is doing you no good in there (well okay it kinda is because story ideas are fun to sit and imagine and that’s nice) but it’s even better putting it down on paper!!! Set the idea freeee. Seriously. If you have that itch to write give in to it. It’s a rare enough thing that it should be cherished and indulged in when it deigns to appear. In short: JUST WRITE THE THING!!!! 

The second part of that is posting the thing. Which you do not have to do. You can just write things for you, you know? In fact I think that’s the better way (and it’s Hard, dude, I know it is, because sometimes you’re just like….could ppl pls shower me with love it makes me want to keep writing (one nice comment will power my scribbling for days I know how it goes)) but these ideas are yours and you should own them and enjoy them just for you. Just because it feels good to have written this thing and put your ideas out there whether other people respond to them or not. 

Posting fic is scary af I still don’t like it (I scuttle off to bed…pretty much as soon as I’ve posted whatever it is I’m posting I GET IT DUDE) but it’s also a lot of fun? Most of the awesome people I’ve met through fandom I’ve met through fic too; it gets people talking and that’s good. This fandom is actually pretty responsive towards fic in that…I think a solid 70-80% of them actually read it/go looking for it/interact with it in some way and that’s really cool? So if this is your starting point it’s good!!! 

Also okay, I’m blatantly ripping this off from some post or other I have seen floating around this website but it’s like. Fic authors and fic readers see their fic in very different ways. Fic authors look at their fic and then they look at someone else’s fic and they do this: :( because that person’s writing is so much better than mine, their fics are so much better, I will never be as good as them I should just not even try. Fic readers look at other people’s fic and they go: :O Fic readers look at your fic and they go: :O Fic readers look at fics and are like omg a giant juicy chocolate cake and a glorious cheesecake. Different cake is still cake and all cake is good (the original post explained this so much better than me I’m just like…pointing that out in case it needed to be said) 

The point is that no fic reader in the universe reads one fic and really likes it then goes and reads another fic and likes it a little bit better and then right, well, that last one was obviously garbage. I’m not bothering with them anymore what’s the point. I have found it. This is the one. This is the ultimate fic. We have found The One And Only fic author in this fandom we are ever going to read we don’t need any others, we don’t want any other fic ever because we have this one and it is perfect and what is the point of any of the other ones? Fic readers are like omg someone has written a fic of my otp! Omg someone else has written a fic of my otp! omg they’re both amazing I’m going to read them both 16 times and drown in them. 

Fandom isn’t a competition, producing fanworks isn’t a competition either (listen I am aware this shit is difficult to actually take in okay I’M AWARE BELIEVE ME)  But I think if you love something enough that you have all these ideas for it and you want to write them you should write them. and then if you want to post them and share them with people you should do that too? 

I mean…Maybe you will post it and…maybe no-one will read it or like but….I mean atm you just don’t know? At the moment no-one can read it or like it or love it because it hasn’t been written yet?? So I can’t tell you that people will love it but I can tell you that no-one will while it’s stuck inside your head, you know? 

But, I don’t know, I suppose, if you can drag anything out of this quagmire of wiffle it’s that…If you care about something enough that you want to write it you should do that. At least try. Stick your pen on a piece of paper and see what happens. Maybe it goes nowhere and you can’t get through it. Maybe you write 10k in a night and fall in love. But just sort of hovering here in limbo all that’s going to happen is eventually that idea will fade away and maybe one day you’ll be sad that you didn’t just…try to see what might come of it? 

TL;DR: Write the thing. You have enough of a passion to want to write, don’t ignore that. Post the thing if you feel able to once you’ve written the thing. What’s the worst thing that can happen if you try?? 

Detail of “Overpass”, one of my art prints. Not as atmospheric usual, but it’s okay, what with a nice juicy giant monster and all. And giant thistles too.

a-gay-nigga-on-drugs-deactivate  asked:

My mouth is trembling at the sight of the giant, delicious juicy big cock that's is sitting before my very eyes. I hesitate before plunging the it inside of my mouth and taking in it's distinct flavor of deliciousness. Oh yes... Emotions of pleasure is rapidly racing though my body. It has been awhile since I have felt this sensation. I moan out loud; trying to memorize everything that is occurring. Not long after, the sensation is over, and I already miss the taste. The taste of fried chicken.

😭😭🐌🐌💦💦🅱😚😚👏👏👌👌😍😍💕😘😘😱😱😩😩🍑😥👏👌🐓🐓💦💦

Fidel Castro’s passion for baseball is often seen as just another dictator’s eccentricity, like Hitler’s love for Disney characters or Saddam Hussein’s romance-novel-writing hobby. Actually, it was much more than that: Not only did the human embodiment of international communism play the most American of sports in his youth, but he was close to moving to the U.S. and pitching for the Giants.

Back in the 1940s, Cuba was just a sunny little country with a U.S.-backed government, and Fidel Castro was just a student at the University of Havana who loved baseball. Castro was a pitcher for the university’s baseball team, and he threw such a great curveball that Major League Baseball teams began sending scouts to check him out. The Pittsburgh Pirates even sent a few of their players to test out the young pitcher, which resulted in Castro striking out future Hall of Famer Hank Greenberg.

In 1949, the then New York Giants offered Castro a juicy contract that included a $5,000 signing bonus to come play baseball in the United States. Castro was already politically active and critical of U.S. imperialism at this time … and yet he still took several days to think over the offer, consulting with his friends and family about what he should do. Eventually he turned down the contract, which took the Giants completely by surprise: Apparently, he was the first Latin American to say no to them.

5 Famous People Who Secretly Had Awesome Second Careers

🎄🎄MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCHES🎄🎄!! Now that it’s finally DICKmas 👅💦Santa’s about to slide 🎅🏾😉 down your hot 🔥 hot 🔥chimney tonight. So lick 💦💋those juicy candy canes and drink up that creamy eggnog🍼, it’s about to get wet down at Santa’s workshop🍆🍆! Don’t forgot to slide down that XXXtra 🎅🏾🎅🏾 big North Pole, and make sure your 🍪 cookie 🍪is yummy enough for Santa to eat👄! 👀 But are you bad enough to handle Santa’s giant juicy 8=candy👊🏼COCK=D💦?? Send this to 🔟 of your baddest bitch elves💁🏼💁🏾 If you get 5️⃣ back, youre on the naughty list this year🍆💦! If you get 🔟 back you better be ready for Santa’s hot ♨️CUMlate☕️💦😭 If you get 2️⃣0️⃣ back you’ve got the most bitchin 🍬peppermint 🍬pussy in the North Pole! ❄️⛄ Hope you get to blow 🌬 lots of XXXmas 🎄dick, and that you get lots of XXXmas 🎄CUMMIES 💝💝 HAVE A SLUTTY 💦🍆👅DICKMAS YOU HOE HOE HOE!!! 🎅🏾🎅🏿🎅🏽🎅🏼
Like A Good Neighbor

So, comealongraggedypond asked for a fanfic about James and Lily in a muggle AU where Lily is scared of a spider and fetches James, her neighbor, to come and kill it. So, I slapped a little something together! I hope you enjoy! Leave me more prompts and let me know what you think! 

           Lily’s auburn hair swung in a curtain around her shoulder as she absently chewed on her lip, a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream in her lap as she watched the newest episode of Sherlock with rapt attention, excitement humming in her veins as she watched the languid and beautiful Sherlock deduce his way through a convoluted web of unrelated information and clues. She was clad in a black skirt and t-shirt advertising Aerosmith, her feet stuffed in a pair of haphazardly-tied Converse trainers. Her makeup was on the natural side from a long day of working at the local café – she dreamed of being a writer, but authoring books was a long task at best, an impossibly arduous one at worst.

           She sighed contently, leaning down to put the empty bowl on her table when she saw it: a giant, juicy, fat, black spider crawling across her coffee table’s glass top. She yelped, flipping the empty bowl over with a clatter to cover the massive beast. Okay, it wasn’t massive per say, but it was certainly larger than was the norm. Her heart pounded in her chest as anxiety took over; her fear of spiders stemmed from when her deplorable sister had set a tarantula on her bed spread when she was nine, waking her when the long, hairy legs began to tip-toe up her arm, only barely avoiding being bitten when she flailed her arm about until it was dislodged before promptly beating it with her battered copy of Pride and Prejudice. She trembled as she stared at the black, glass dome that encased the creature and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

            She jumped to her feet, her body alive with energy from the adrenaline that resulted from her scare. She knew there was a guy next door around her age. She’d seen him around a few times, had one or two decently polite exchanges at the café when he came in for a coffee once in a great while, but there was no relationship there besides bare-minimum cordiality. Lily raked her hand through her auburn waves as she sped over to the familiar-looking, though unexplored, house with long strides, her green eyes squinting a bit in the sunlight.

            The front yard was perfectly kept with luscious green grass, a large maple tree, and stone steps that led up to a grand wooden door. She hopped quickly across the footholds without thinking about what to say before ringing the bell somewhat frantically. “One minute!” she heard a faint voice call. True to his word, the door opened a moment later to reveal the man. He was tall and muscled, his eyes a stunning green-gold that sparkled wit mirth behind his spectacles, his features chiseled, his hair a tousled mop of coal-black strands that were casually disarrayed. “Can I help you?” he asked curiously, soaking in the beauty of the auburn-haired girl in front of him. She looked vaguely familiar, like they’d met a few times in brief passing. She was pleasantly curvaceous and certainly attractive with long lashes that veiled forest green eyes. Her cheekbones were high and her skin fair, her lips full and rosy. It was the slightly panicked look on her face that gave him a pause.

            “Well, yeah,” she muttered, meeting his hazel eyes for the first time. He smiled down at her; the sight was breathtaking. “Um, okay, don’t laugh at me,” she began.

            “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he answered laughingly.

            “There’s a spider in my house and I deathly afraid of them. I have it trapped under a bowl on my table; I was wondering if you would mind terribly coming to kill it for me?” she half-begged. The raven-haired man chuckled slightly, the girl’s cheeks reddening, but he could see that she was actually frightened, not just another crazy stalker chick who was after him for his money and fame. James Potter was a cream of the crop business man with a fortune to back up the claim, his specialty being in stock brokerage and his own company Potter Enterprises. He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded, closing his door behind him, dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a blood red button up, and a pair of black, casual, dress shoes. James always capitalized on a chance to show off for the ladies; his gait was graceful and dripping with confidence. He followed the pretty girl, trying to keep his eyes in respectable places and failing miserably. She gave him a small smile, feeling suddenly shy, as she shoved open the door to her home.

            “Where is the great and terrible beast you speak of?” he mused comically, smugness in his tone. She glared coldly at him, fiery emeralds latching onto amused topaz. She sighed in resignation and sheepishly pointed at the coffee table where the spider was housed under a simple, glossy, black bowl. “You watch Sherlock?” he questioned, seeing the television on. She nodded. 

            “It’s my guilty pleasure; I bloody love that show,” she told him, a grin that he found gorgeous taking over her features that had previously been set in a nervous grimace.

            “Me too,” he answered. “Do you have a shoe or something I can use to kill the little bugger?” he inquired. Lily nodded, going to her coat closet and fetching an old, ratty, tattered sneaker. James accepted it deftly, carefully lifting the bowl. Eight beady, midnight eyes stared back at him, attached to the head of the furry pest and he visibly jumped back. “MOTHER FUCKER!” he yelped, the bowl clattering to the ground, “That’s a huge ruddy thing!” Lily had now seated herself on a chair, curling into herself as she watched the blighter scuttle across the tile. James’s wits returned to him and he lunged, crushing the spider with the toe of the sneaker, splattering the dark entrails onto the cold marble. Lily winced at the sight of it.

            “That’s nasty,” she said, visibly relieved, the tension ebbing from her body. James jumped back up to his feet.

            “So, any chance that in return for my heroic feat, I can get your name?”

            “I’m Lily, Lily Evans,” she introduced, shaking his hand. He smiled down at her warmly. 

            “I’m James Potter.”

            “It’s nice to meet you.”

            “The pleasure is all mine. Now, what would you say to dinner with me sometime?” he asked, a smile tugging on his pouty lips. She pretended to mull it over carefully.

            “I don’t know… I mean, for all I know, you could be a serial killer, James, if that is your real name,” she mused. He laughed.

            “Or you could be the serial killer,” he pointed out.

            “Oh, haven’t you heard? I’m employed as an assassin for the British government,” she replied easily. He laughed heartily, the sound velvety and deep, soothing and rough at the same time. 

            “That’s reassuring; at least burglars wouldn’t stand a chance, right?”

            “The last one that tried is somewhere in the middle of an undisclosed forest in Surrey.” She kept her face completely straight, looking down at her nails like she was bored of telling the same story again. He just chuckled, shaking his head. 

            “Seriously, Lily, go out with me,” he tried. She beamed up at him this time.

            “I’d like that,” she murmured, looking up into his eyes, noticing the rather substantial height difference between her 5’8” and his 6’3”. He grinned hugely down at her, making his strong jaw stand out sexily. The green-eyed girl pushed up onto her toes and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek. James felt like his skin was sizzling, searing with attraction and warmth. “Thank you.” 

            “You’re welcome, Lily. I’ll pick you up at seven.” 

anonymous asked:

🎄🎄MERRY CHRISTMAS BITCHES🎄🎄!! Now that it’s finally DICKmas 👅💦Santa’s about to slide 🎅🏾😉 down your hot 🔥 hot 🔥chimney tonight. So lick 💦💋those juicy candy canes and drink up that creamy eggnog🍼, it’s about to get wet down at Santa’s workshop🍆🍆! Don’t forgot to slide down that XXXtra 🎅🏾🎅🏾 big North Pole, and make sure your 🍪 cookie 🍪is yummy enough for Santa to eat👄! 👀 But are you bad enough to handle Santa’s giant juicy 8=candy👊🏼COCK=D💦?? Send this to 🔟 of your baddes

Hoe hoe hoe 🎄 Slut-mas is right ➡️ around ⤵️ the corner!! 🎁 that means 25 days of sucking that Christmas cock 🍆 that means 🎅🏿 dick and 🎅🏻 dick. Make sure you lick those candy canes 🔴⚪️ Take that trip down to Bethlehem if you know what I mean🐪 Slide down that South Pole 🎇  send this to 2️⃣5️⃣ of the sluttiests holiday bitches you know or else you’ll turn into an ugly elf. 🎉🎉🎉🎊🎊 if you get 1️⃣2️⃣ back you’re a holiday hoe. Make sure you deck that dick like you deck the halls 👅👅👅👅👅🎄🎄🎄 keep the Christ in christmas you slutty baby Jesus 👅👅👅💦💦💦💦🎄🎄