i wimped out

little johnny jhonny things: aggressive hand-holding

Josuyasu Week: Day One
First Kiss / Confessions / Stands



you missed


cascifers  asked:

TAG You're it! Once you get this say 5 things that you like about yourself publicly and then send this to 10 of your favorite followers!(non-negotiable) SPREAD POSITIVITY // aye ❤️ -jjgodofvictory

((thats too wild,, ur too wild .. !!!! uuuh

1. my art development over the weeks
2. a spider didn’t kill me once
3. I didn’t wimp out from being in a relationship and now I have a really amazing girlfriend????!?!??!?!! How did I do that
4. I’ve been handing in work on time more often????? I think
5. I sleep a lot and I think that’s better than not sleeping at all))


Prompt: Imagine your OTP are friends who dare each other to get their fortunes told. The fortune teller then tells them that they are destined lovers - and that they will soon be brought together by the powers of fate. Of course, the OTP doesn’t believe it. What follows is a strange series of events that suggest that fate really is bringing them together.

Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: l o n g af lol, mentions of hamilton, LOTS OF FLUFF

AN: so i found this blog called OTP Prompts  and if you write fanfics/imagines they have amazing prompts if you get stuck in a rut like i just did lol

Send in prompts from this list!

Originally posted by wxndrwoman

Peter and I were quickly approaching ‘Madam Estrella’s Fortune Telling’. We stopped in front of the store and stared at the door.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” 

“Of course I am. Why, Pete? Are you wimping out?” I teased my best friend. He glared at me.

“Never. Let’s go.” 

Keep reading

well…. iffy news about the blood test. they confirmed that my thyroid is high which makes sense, but they also picked up indicators of an autoimmune disease… however! the tech wrote “false positive?” next to it because it was lower than it usually is in an autoimmune disease. but still they refered me to a rheumatologist! as an artist, RA scares me A Lot… so now im going to be in this horrible 6 month long waiting period where theyre seeing if i show any new symptoms and they’ll test my blood again at the end of that period… send me good thoughts guys…

Yesterday morning after makeup and before I did my hair…. I keep wanting to have the courage to wear darker lipsticks but then I wimp out and wipe them off. I’m always weirdly fond of my morning hair though :3

I had a pretty dope Valentine’s Day.
I want a new septum ring.


Things I needed to do today:

  1. clean
  2. laundry
  3. pack

Things i did today:

  1. watch spongebob

So, as you all know, for Black History Month, I’ve decided to do one BlackInFanfiction fic a day (of various fandoms, various characters and the like.) And I’ve also decided I’m going to use this post as a way of keeping track of my progress (that way I can’t wimp out, lol)

So, without Further ado:

February 1: Chapter 2 of A Taste of Life

February 2:  Cadillac Caldwell: Club Runner, Disco Prince, and Black Manta Fanboy 

Living the Dream

Gerard’s POV

I couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t unusual at all. After all the fucking nightmares that plagued me, it was tough. Tucking a few black strands behind my ear I stared at the ceiling. The shitty sheets were scratchy through my pajamas, and I kicked them away in frustration.

Light didn’t come from the window at this time, especially not through the curtains. That definitely wasn’t my problem.

She was in my mind again.

Shit, she was so fucking gorgeous… Just thinking about her revved my heart to full speed, and I had to see her the next day. Every time I closed my eyes, there she was, smiling, laughing- or just sitting there, eyes shining and lashes fluttering.

God, I had to ask her out. I’d do it or kill myself trying.

Thinking, I knew I’d just wimp out, and allowed myself to dream of her in my mind. She’d never be mine in the way I really wanted, so why not think of her some other way?

Those perky tits… God, what they must look like outside her shirt. I could almost see it now- her humming as she stripped, tugging at her bottom lip as she stretched, peeling the shirt off. How her back would arch as she went- sticking her chest out in the most perfect way, tossing a grin at me over he shoulder.

The thought alone let a moan slip from my lips, right hand traveling under the sheets. Curling my fingers around my confined cock, I applied a bit of pressure, imagining her slipping off those jeans…

God, what an ass… Just right to really lay a hand on.

Repressing the thoughts of how I shouldn’t be degrading her, I slipped the sweatpants down, gripping myself tight, fingers curling as I pictured her slipping off a thong. Every bit of her was revealed now and damn, was it hot.

She was in my room now, crawling on the bed, cleavage in full view as she straddled my legs. Her thighs were smooth and beautiful and every curve on her body was simply breathtaking.

Her voice was soft and absolutely dripping with lust, smirking at me. “Can I help?”

By now, I found myself fully erect, hips grinding up at a slow pace as I held my length, eyes closed. I could nearly see her grabbing me, holding me like now.

Instead of my fingers, they were hers- her thumb swiping over the blushing head and smearing precum over the tip teasingly, her finger swiping over a sensitive vein.

It was like her actions, not mine, forced me to grip the sheets for dear life. As if her constant pumps on my cock made me sweat, the sheets growing hot and moist the longer she worked.

Breathing a bit heavily, nothing could describe the bliss- imagining her swiping up a bit of precum, kitten licking it off of her finger while her other hand moved faster and faster. I felt myself moaning her name quietly, starting to grow uncomfortable in the sweat-soaked shirt.

The fingers around my cock tightened- circling the head completely and sliding down, forcing me to feel the pressure.

‘My god, what if she actually sucked me off…’

Savoring the thought, I gave a small grunt, bucking up into the tight grasp, feeling myself grow closer to the edge, breath growing short.

Those fucking glossy lips… Innocent y/c eyes gazing up… My fingers in her hair…

Before I knew it, I was spent, hand moving like a piston, rapidly jerking, one of the best finishes in ages.

I could nearly see her lapping up the streams of cum that dribbled down my cock, onto my hands, on my stomach. She’d love it, I know.

Nearly feeling her tongue languidly roaming my skin, I bucked up one last time, hand going at a snail’s pace to release the last bit of sticky fluid.

Groaning softly, catching my breath, I opened my eyes.

Greeted with darkness, reality settled in once more. She wasn’t there. It was never her fingers, they were mine. The cum was hot and sticky on my hand, and I let my cock slip away, grabbing some tissues from the nightstand.

Cleaning up, I wiped away the fluid, somewhat disgusted with myself. Pulling up my pants, I slipped a thin sheet over my body, rolling over onto a cool, non-sweat-soaked part of the sheets and sighed.

Smiling softly, I didn’t care if my hair fell in my face as it did. She was real. It could happen. She was gorgeous and alive… And completely uninterested, probably. My smile slipped away.

On that note, I let myself mentally rehearse asking her out- and mentally imaging her refusal and amusement- before reaching to the bedside table, clutching the nearest bottle of pills and swallowing two dry.

Looks like I’ll sooner die trying.


river shrimp’ll make a man howl at the moon


So prior to the My Room/S-support line translations, I had just assumed Marx and Kamui were both innocent little babies. All I gotta say is that Nintendo’s gonna be censoring some of those My Room lines. Marx is no innocent.

I wimped out and didn’t color these bc suddenly there are a lot of things I want to draw and only so much free time in the day. Probably Zero/m!Kamui tomorrow + some fanart I already promised?


“I- I’m sorry,” Westley mumbles as tears begin to stream down her face. “I didn’t mean that-”

“You’re right though,” she blubbers. “About everything. I am such a fuck up.”

“Madeleine,” he pleads. “Please stop crying.”

“I’ll be fine. I- I- I just n-need a minute. You should go.”

West fidgets uneasily. “I can’t leave you here like this. Come on. We’ll walk to work together.”

“No. I have to make some phone calls.”

“Don’t do anything rash,” he frowns. “You’re upset right now. Come to the office, calm down a bit, and then maybe later-”

“I’ll wimp out? No,” she sobs. “I’m tired of lying. I’m going to tell my dad everything. Of course he’ll probably kick me out, which means I’ll have no place to live and no way to pay for prenatal care, but at least I won’t have to lie any longer.”

“What about the baby’s father? Can’t he-”

Maddie shakes her head. “He won’t believe that it’s his. After all, why should he? I was nothing more than an easy lay to him.”

Westley sighs dramatically. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” she sniffles.

“Meet your family this weekend. But after that, we’re ‘breaking up’, okay?”

“You’re serious?” Madeleine whispers, glancing up at him with red, swollen eyes.

“Yes,” he chuckles. “I don’t like to see you cry.”

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