with cotton socks

anonymous asked:

Hi Cor! so now that the chapter's out, do you think Kaneki rejected Touka? imo now with the full picture, it seems he was more shocked by the realization that Touka loves him that he couldn't say anything else before Tsukiyama interrupted them.

No, I don’t think he rejected her advances but he didn’t exactly accept them either. Every single time he’s just been finding his feet, he’s been thrown into chaos again and again and again. There hasn’t really been a moment where he’s had the time or the emotional stability to let romantic fancies take over (Haise excluded from this of course). He’s definitely not in the right head space for romance. So even though he knows he cares for Touka a lot, I honestly don’t think he’s actually ever considered the possibility of a romance between them. This panel here is where I’m getting this from

“Touka-chan and… me…??”

He’s been taken completely by surprise- Touka really did a number on him! Kaneki being as obvlious as a brick, as per usual. And that’s why this panel later on speaks a thousand words

Touka says she was happy Haise looked at her the way Kaneki looked at Rize and I think this is the moment it really clicks for him what Touka has been saying. This is the moment he realises her feelings for him. 

So, no I don’t think he rejected her but we’ll never know what his answer would have been to Touka’s indirect confession thanks to Shuu :’D

Self-Titled songs as things

Implicit Demand for Proof - black coffee on freezing cold nights. Stinging, hot tears and vinyl records

Fall Away -  staring at stars from rooftops. long car trips and voice cracks

The Pantaloon - crowded spaces and wilting flowers. Candle smoke after you have blown it out, the sound of a ukulele.

Addict With a Pen -  laying on wet grass and paper cuts. The smell of a rainy day and lavender

Friend, Please -  tea that is  too hot and cold feet. the taste of blood after you’ve accidentally bitten your lip, the feeling of cuddling up to somebody

March to the Sea -  sun shining through pine trees in the woods. the smell of a bookstore and soft kisses

Johnny Boy - dry coughs and small headaches. The smell of black licorice.

Oh Ms. Believer - Iced over roads and cold, sunny mornings. Soft cotton socks and honeysuckle

Air Catcher - broken glass in your hands and flickering street lamps. Ivy plants and static television

Trapdoor - bitter cough syrup, hand cramps and the sound of crickets.

A Car, A Torch, a Death - the crunch of snow under your feet, the smell of rubbing alcohol, trembling legs

Taxi Cab  -  sunrises and the feeling of silk. holding hands and the color black

Before you Start your Day  -  rosy cheeks and the feeling you get before school. soft hair and a growling stomach

Isle of Flightless Birds  -  skinned knees and chapped lips. ringing in your ears, Christmas lights

OH yes more boys YES THANK YOU angery and sad boys. AUTUMN IS A BIG nasty weiily but i don blmae them it is hard having fire ALL OF THE TIME youre so warm and sweatyy. all of auttumn court have sWAETY hands. Tamlin is HAVING a tough time as he misssess feyres beautiful vageyna. You know how men ARE yes? summer and winter JUST care about their peoples and rubies god bless their cotton socks 

Hi my name is John Quincy Adams and I have long brown hair (but I’m starting to go bald) with white streaks and brown tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like John Adams (AN: if u don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to George Washington but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m running for president but I’m not gonna campaign. I have pale white skin. I’m also a Democratic Republican, and I was the Secretary of State in America from 1817-1825 (I’m 58!!!). I’m a Whig (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love long pants and my mom complains about the way I dress. For example today I was wearing a black jacket with pants under it, and a black cotton vest, white socks and black boots. I was wearing white hair powder and a hat that Henry Clay gave me. I was walking outside The Capital Building. It was The Era Of Good Feelings, so there was widespread political unity, which I was very happy about. A lot of Jacksonians stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.


I have an inherent laziness that’s built in me that I have to fight through all the time. So I would say getting off the couch. I’m very much a huge movie watcher and book reader, and even though that can be productive, it still does mean sitting on the couch. So I think my worst habit is getting me out of the house. Once I get out then I can keep moving.


Small, but firm.

Masturbating is a great alternative in the absence of somebody to actually have sex with. Yet jerking off can be a bit expected and even a chore, which might explain the recent success of the Fleshjack, a fancy tube to stick your dick in. But who wants to go shopping when horny and spend €50 on a piece of plastic? Many cheap tricks and domestic solutions are to be found, as tried and tested on the following pages. How practical!

There’s nothing quite like the feel of a 100%-cotton white crew sock from the GAP. They’re really durable and quite form-fitting. They’re also very discreet, and can be tucked under the mattress for safekeeping. They make an excellent gift for your dorm-bound buddies at university. Hurry, someone’s coming! 

This is a good, homemade masturbatory device for real do-it-yourselfers. All you need is a Pringles can, some foam rubber, a sturdy, non-lubricated condom, a 1.5-inch rubber cockring and a pair of scissors. When you’re done, just pop the lid back on, and the device – now ingeniously disguised as a can of chips – can be hidden away from prying eyes.

This piece of organic British beef from Tesco is probably the closest you’re going to get to penetrating real flesh. Just be sure to leave it out for an hour before using, so it can reach room temperature. Other cuts will do, of course, but the test panel found this sirloin steak to be the right size for wrapping around a good piece of meat. When finished, grill on both sides and bon appétit

Fucking IKEA… literally. This two-seater is covered in hard-wearing, easy-care grain leather – a very practical choice for families with children. The cushions, filled with high-resilience foam and polyester fibers, provide you with the sensation of fucking an ass that has maybe seen better days. On the other hand, if you like ’em loose, then just close your eyes; humping Ektorp is actually almost like the real deal.

The 1800-watt Electrolux ZSH710 Cyclone Power vacuum used here provides some powerful suction – just make sure it doesn’t suck your dick off completely. It’s probably okay as long as you keep it at a lower setting. If the hose provided is too small for your erect penis, look for a girthier one in the plumbing department of your local hardware store.

All that’s required for this last trick is a banana. Bananas can be found literally everywhere, and there are over a thousand different varieties, so there’s bound to be a perfect fit for almost any dick length. There’s some debate from banana-peel-wanking enthusiasts about whether bananas or their larger cousins, the plantains, are better for jerking off. It’s a matter of personal choice, really.

Superhero AUs #16

Girl Power (in honour of Wonder Woman)

- ‘I love how you wear full body armour, not like those other slutty female heroes’ AU
- ‘Look, jackass. They’re invulnerable, I’m not. Their thighs look great in fishnets, but mine look like easy targets. It’s about practicality, not promiscuity, and you can fuck right off’ AU

- ‘No, no, this isn’t right. You can’t defeat me, you’re supposed to be the damsel-’
- ‘-in distress? Honey, it doesn’t look like I’m the one in distress here’ AU

- ‘Aren’t stilettos kinda impractical to fight it? Sexy, but impractical.’ AU
- ‘Not if I never go hand to hand, and besides, they serve the dual purpose of making my ass look great and taking out men’s eyes’ AU

- ‘I’m the world’s greatest assassin. You would be wise to fear me’ AU
- ‘Oh bless your cotton socks, it’s so cute that you think you scare me. I’m a mother, and you just threatened my kids; it’s you who should be scared’ AU

- ‘Blood makes great lipstick’ AU
- ‘…I really don’t want to know how you know that’ AU

- ‘Yeah, I got kicked out of the hero league. Apparently wearing a rainbow cape for Pride Month violates the ‘no personal life information shall be shared while in costume’ rule’ AU
- ‘…I’m a supervillain and even I think that’s evil’ AU

- ‘I hate her and she hates me but for god’s sake next time the media labels our war a ‘catfight’ I will not stop her from tearing down your offices and setting you all on fire’ AU
- ‘For once we agree on something’ AU

- ‘I’m a villain and you’re a hero…but I like you and you say that you like me back. So…what does that make us?’ AU
- ‘Lesbians’ AU

。・゜☆゜・。。・゜♡ ゜・
☆ i am doll disorder
♡ garden of misdeeds of princesses and hibernating poems
soiled cotton socks, worms in my hair. decay limbs.
i yearn and I wilt.

anonymous asked:

Saeran with "Wait don't pull away... Not yet" please ;-; i can just imaging him hugging you and crying and OH GOD THE FEELS ARE COMMING ;-;

A/N: It’s raining today, so my muse came back to life and forced me to pen this down. Hope you like this, anon. :) 

You don’t like the rain. Not one bit. You don’t like it when your hair clings to your face in clumps, when you feel the cold seep in through your clothes, or when rainwater gets into your socks. Ugh. Wet socks. The worst. Normally, the thought alone is enough to make you shudder.

But right now, even though you can feel moisture seeping through the soles of your shoes into your cotton socks, your mind only registers it as a passing detail. Yes, even though you’re standing in the middle of the rain, soaked to the bone, wet clothes clinging to your icy cold skin, and though you feel an urge to sneeze a couple of times in succession, your brain is dismissing all these as trivial matters.

Because at this moment, you can’t bring yourself to think about anything else. Not when your arms are currently wrapped around a man whose face is buried in your shoulder and whose arms are tightly caging you against his chest.

The usual scent of peppermint that you detect on him has long diminished. Now all you smell on him is fresh rain. It’s not a bad change. You watch the cold shards of rain disappear into his drenched red hair, and absently note the small droplets of water sliding down the back of his neck. If you look closely enough, you can see goose bumps rising on the skin there. He’s cold. At the same time you think that, he squeezes you just a little tighter as a small tremor passes through his body.

In turn, you press closer to him, wanting to give him as much warmth as possible. Also to get a little warmer because you’re cold too.

There are no words that you can say right now. You’ve already said all that’s left to be said earlier. All you can do now is run your fingers through his hair, in the soothing way that he does in the mornings when he’s lying next to you in bed, too lazy to get up. You can feel him relax slightly as you weave your fingers through his dripping red locks, his shoulders sagging just a little after a while. It prompts a smile to form on your lips.

Leaning into him like this, feeling his weight against your body is a sobering reminder that all this – you and him, together – is real.  That he’s finally starting to open up, step by step. And that he’s no longer bent on pushing you away because of his inner demons.

Your heart swells with affection, and you feel an overwhelming urge to protect him like this forever. You want to be his shelter in the rain, his warmth in the cold, and his light in the darkness of his nightmares. You want to re-discover the innocent glint in his eyes that was lost to the mistakes of the people he trusted with everything he had.

Your eyes start to cloud with moisture. You wish you could hold him closer than you are now, so that you’re standing heart-to-heart with him, feeling his pulse against your racing heart, so that the feelings burning in your chest can give him some relief from the freezing shower of rain.

You love him. So much more than words could ever say.

Just then, lightning flashes, lighting up the dark, gloomy sky for a fraction of a second. Thunder soon follows after, snapping you out of your reverie with a loud crackle. It dawns on you that it would be wise for the both of you to find shelter soon, before either of you fall sick. He seems to be feeling better now, too.

But the moment you attempt to pull away, he clings to you, keeping you from moving even a hair’s breadth away from him.

“Wait,” he speaks, breath hot against the cold shell of your ear. His voice is raspy and trembling. “Don’t pull away… Not yet.”

The sound of his inconspicuous sniffle pierces your heart. He’s been crying, just as you guessed earlier when he pulled you in hastily for an embrace, not caring as his umbrella fell to the ground. Knowing him, he’s not ready for you to see his face just yet. Not even when the rain gives him a perfect excuse for the streaks likely running down his pale cheeks.

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat. You hate it when he cries. Because all he deserves – all he ever deserved – is happiness. Not sorrow or guilt or scars of abuse from the people who brutally trampled over his soul.

“I won’t,” you murmur, turning your head slightly to brush your lips against his jaw, because you can’t reach his cheeks from this position. “Not now, not ever. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be staying right here. Always.”

That reassurance is all you can give to him, and it’s all he needs to hear before his shoulders begin to shake again.

And so, as the rain gradually reduces to a light pitter-patter on your cheeks, you begin counting the raindrops till Saeran Choi comes home. For good.