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It's that time of year again, time to add a new row to the art improvement meme!
...Except that the file ended up being over 60 inches tall and Photoshop kept running out of memory, to the point I couldn't save my work lmao
I reformatted it with odd numbered years in the left column - works better as one big image, but slicing it into separate images makes it more legible. RIP.
deviantart
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This meme came to me in a dream and when I woke up I had to make it a reality
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Paul Heyman talking to Ava (aka The Rock's daughter 👀) on NXT, 10th October 2023.
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There's something so bizarre about this note from Kazuya Nuri in the concept art sections of the Great Ace Attorney Chronicles in the bonuses, because, like... why can't... is someone holding you hostage and not letting you have any drawing utensils...? Did Studio Ghibli take the entire stock of paper and pencils in Japan for whatever Miyazaki is up to next...? What do you mean you'd "like to" draw that "one day"? Why don't you just... do it?
I mean, why didn't you just give them hats in this actual artwork from the game if it's such a deeply held, long term dream for you?
I suppose we’ll never know for sure, but my brother, noble hearted and kind as he is, decided that since you apparently can’t realize the dream yourself, he’ll do it for you.
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FINALLY. AT LONG LAST. GODS TAG DROP. FREE ME.
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@mmriesoftvat &&. said... "someone dreamt about you last night, and you have no idea." -kami
❝ i hope it was a NIGHTMARE. ❞ ... he will guarantee the next one is.
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Have you served in the military?
unfortunately, no. growing up it was one of my biggest goals. was even talking to a recruiter and working out with him and stuff to prepare. but then a couple of different things happened that basically disqualified me: i fucked up my knee real good playing football (it's still fucked to this day) and i also had a bit of a mental breakdown.
and being disqualified just made me spiral even more tbh. i always compare it to that scene from little miss sunshine. how that dude took a vow of silence until he became a pilot and then found out he was colorblind. that scene hits close to home. ever since i was a kid i basically dedicated my life to becoming a marine (i am fanatical in all things i'm passionate about). and then, right before it was gonna happen, everything fell apart. lmao. the fates have a strange sense of humor.
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T__T final fantasy
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hi its 6am and i woke up from a nightmare about being stalked by t****** at my real life house so can we stop pretending that because abuse happened "along time ago" that victims are obligated to forgive them because "they could have changed!!!!"
like when someone sends people to your house and has stalked you on the internet for fucking i guess 10 years at this point that does some fucking damage to your brain :0)
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Tag Dump 1
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Yuta Okkotsu is a Shy Boyfriend in Dirty Situations
Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, erection, masturbation, sneaking away, morning wood, shyness, hand job, dirty thoughts, wet dreams, blowjob
A/N: It's Yuta appriciation hours.
Yuta is a shy boyfriend who gets turned on way too easily just from the simple act of kissing you. Making out actually but really anything that includes you making any kind of pleased noise and having your lips on his. Every time he gets a hard on he pretends it's not there for the longest time until you start grinding against it and it becomes too much to ignore. Instead of letting you help out he pushes you away telling you how this is no big deal, you shouldn't trouble yourself with it.
Yuta is a shy boyfriend who sneaks away to masturbate when he gets morning wood. Not when he's alone but when you're staying over and his body reacts naturally, aided by the close proximity of your pussy. He hates how he's thinking about you while stroking his cock in the shower, all flustered and panting and his body shaking. Cock twitching every time he thinks about how good, how much better your mouth or hand or pussy would feel on his cock. What he doesn't know is that you hear all of it and you're touching yourself too, moaning right when he does, coming right when he does, calling his name right when he calls yours.
Yuta is a shy boyfriend who has wet dreams about you and then can't look you in the eye. He's so embaressed by them, the things he does and says to you in the dreams. And worst yet that those dreams are all it can take to make him come. When he wakes up and sees he ejaculated in his sleep, without ever touching his dick he gets so flustered he hides under the covers. From who? He doesn't know because he's in the room all by himself.
Yuta is a shy boyfriend who covers his face with his hands when you first give him a blowjob. There's nothing about it that should be embarrassing, and it feels good, your tongue licking up the cum from the little hole at the tip, your cheeks sucked in as you bob your head up and down, oh god, your moans that make his cock react with a twitch. But it's too good. And if he were to look down and see what you were doing to him he might pass out before, or right after, he comes.
Yuta is a shy boyfriend who can't talk dirty to save his life. Every time he tries he gets tongue tied and flustered about saying his inner thoughts outloud. It's one thing to fantasize about them and then saying them. Takes a long time for him to be comfortable with it, or calling pet names, praising you, telling you how your pussy feels like it's melting his cock, or talking about how much he loves your tits and coming all over them.
Yuta is a shy boyfriend who feels bad about coming in your pussy with just a few strokes keeps fucking you even with a semi-hard on. His whimpers overpower your reassurance, he's hiding his face between your boobs, not making eye contact. There's no way he can look at you until his cock gets hard again. Don't even try to coax him to because it won't work. You'll get eye contact, and a grin, from your boyfriend when he feels that pussy come on his, now hard again, cock.
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When Johnny takes Simon to his home, and you open the door, Simon's heart stops beating. You direct that lovely smile he's fallen in love with at Johnny as you hug him and usher him inside. Simon's frozen in place, his body refusing to move, because gods, you're a fucking dream.
And then you turn your attention towards him, with ruddy cheeks and pink lips and a delicate neck he could easily wrap his hand around—
"You must be Simon!" and his cock starts to stir. All you said was his name, in that angelic voice of yours, and his blood started to rush to his groin.
When you move to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, he finally breaks from his trance and returns it. Barely. It's awkward— one arm coming up to inelegantly pat your upper back a little too hard, and the other stiff at his side. But you seem completely unbothered, just giving him one last squeeze and step back, holding both of his arms in your dainty hands, and you say, "It's great to meet the one that keeps my Johnny safe. Now, come on in, make yourself at home!"
Simon timidly walks inside, and closes the door behind him, and utters, "Thank you for lettin' me stay here."
The joyful laughter you let out sends exquisite prickles up his spine. "He actually speaks! I'm surprised, Johnny said it took a bit for you to warm up to others," and you give another stomach-fluttering giggle. "You're welcome here any time, Simon. Now let me take you to the room you'll be staying in."
Simon has to carry his duffle bag in front of him as you lead him to the guest room to cover the throbbing erection he's got. When you leave him to freshen up, he wastes no time in pulling his jeans down and taking himself in his hand, stroking firmly. When his imagination paints a picture of you wearing an apron while cooking a meal for him, his vision blurs as he climaxes.
--
Simon knows he's atypical. He has no real decorum. He tells piss-poor dark jokes, inadvertently stares at people when he's lost in thought— and since he's been here, Simon likes to shadow you.
But you don't seem to mind any of it. You laugh at his jokes, the ones Johnny never fails to scoff in disgust at, you tilt your head innocently towards him, silently questioning his intense gaze — and it's so fucking adorable that he's come to that look 8 times in the last 3 days— and you always ask him to reach for things that are out of your reach because you know he's around. (Johnny made a joke once, said that you're being haunted by a ghost, and the quip you replied with as you came to his defense had him dizzy.)
His favorite thing about you though, is how unafraid you are of him. You had rounded a corner and saw his skull mask for the first time, and had you been like any other woman, you would've been startled. But you hadn't been— If anything, you asked him if he wanted it fixed.
"I can see a couple of tears here, Simon. I can patch it up if you like."
It was so deliciously domiciliary that he counted each stitch of his mended mask with his thumb as he touched himself that night.
And then, through the thin walls of the home, he suddenly heard your dulcet moans. He quickly got up and put his skills to use— silently crossing the living room and leaning against the wall closest to your bedroom door.
The bed repeatedly creaked and every choked moan that left you, Simon heard clearly. He hastily took out his achingly hard cock, spit on his palm, and stroked himself to the rhythm of the slapping of skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fucked himself to the thought of him being the one in there with you.
He has no doubt that you'd feel heavenly. Your slick cunt swallowing his turgid length, walls almost painfully tight around him. You'd beg for him to hammer into you, relentlessly, mercilessly. You'd tell him to bite the crook of your shoulder once you were about to come around his cock, and when he actually hears you reach your peak, he rhythmically tightens and loosens his grip, imitating your fluttering walls. His toes are curling inside his socks, he's so bloody close—
And then Simon hears your lascivious voice murmur, "Come in me."
He bites his lip so hard it splits under the pressure as he comes. Tiny, hushed whimpers seeped from behind his mouth, as hot cum spilled onto his fingers, and trickled onto the floor.
The only noise Simon can hear now is his own shaky breath— the fun's over on both sides, it seems. He looks down, gives his softening cock one more stroke, wringing out the last of his seed, before tucking himself away, and sluggishly wiping his mess off the floor with his foot.
He quietly moves, heading back to his room, when he spots your laundry basket in the utility room.
Simon has never believed in luck until now when he's sniffing your knickers in the privacy of the guest room, and he realizes they've been worn. And by how strong the smell of you is, they've been used very recently. He felt like he won the goddamn lottery.
Wrapping it around his cock, he touches himself. Again. And when he comes, he makes sure to spurt his cum directly onto the gusset of the undergarment.
Come morning, when they're all stiff and crusted, he laments that he didn't lick them first, in a pitiful bid to experience a taste of you, before stowing them into a secret compartment in his bag. He makes a mental note to remember to do just that when he takes another pair.
Simon wordlessly makes a cup of tea later, hissing as the hot liquid comes in contact with the small wound on his lip, when Johnny approaches him.
"Mornin' LT."
A grunt is his only reply.
Johnny then shoots him a sly grin.
"Last night, ye weren't as wheesht, as quiet, as ye thought. But dinnae worry, Bonnie doesn't ken a thing."
He claps a hand on Simon's petrified shoulders. "If ye wanted a slice of the cake, ye could've just asked. I dinnae mind sharin'."
Simon gives him a borderline-demented look, puts his tea down on the counter, and clears his throat.
"When?"
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Israel doesn't want to repopulate Gaza, you loveable dummy
Seriously, find one Israeli on this site who'll say otherwise. And no, quoting Ben Gvir doesn't count (assuming you even know who that is) anymore than quoting, say, Rudy Giuliani would count for anything, even though he supposedly spoke for the president of the USA for a time.
Hamas has 136 hostages. Including women, and actual literal babies, assuming they're still alive, that is. This could all have ended weeks ago if they'd fucking returned them. Israeli society would physically march on Benjamin Netanyahu's home and remove him in a coup if the hostages were returned tonight. But as long as they have Israeli people, and are unwilling to negotiate their return, that's an ongoing war crime. Is Israel evil for being a bull in a China shop trying to get back a "mere" 136 innocent civilians? Maybe. But Hamas started this and they can end it, they just don't want to. Please, justify that.
Hello, since you asked for one Israeli, here, I'll give you multiple statements:
Hundreds of activists at an Ashdod gathering in late November called for the reestablishing of Jewish settlements. “Let it be known that you support the appeal to renew Jewish settlement throughout all of the Gaza Strip. The nation is waiting for you”— Yossi Dagan, head of the Samaria Regional Council.
Israel “should fully occupy the Gaza Strip”— Heritage Minister Amichai Eliyahu, of the far-right Otzma Yehudit party.
An Israeli real estate firm pushes to build settlements for Israelis in Gaza. “Wake up, a beach house is not a dream” reads the ad.
Israeli Knesset member Limor Son Har Melech posted a video of herself in a boat with other settlers off the coast of Gaza. “Settlement in every part of the Gaza Strip … A large, extensive settlement without fear, without hesitation, without humiliation. This land is the land that the creator of the world gave to us.”
Israeli Settler, Daniella Weiss says Palestinians who live in Gaza, have no right to stay in Gaza.
An Israeli soldier saying that Israelis should start “investing” in Khan Younis.
Also why would the words of Ben Gvir not count? He is an elected minister, his words hold weight and they expose Israel’s clear intent to make Gaza inhabitable for Palestinians so that Israelis could settle in there— by destroying the infrastructures, making the health system collapse entirely, bombing entire residential neighborhood, Israel is trying to ensure that Palestinians wouldn't be able to return back to their land, because there is nothing livable left there.
And I'm glad you bring up all of this ending if the hostages were returned— Hamas tried to strike up a deal for the return of ALL the hostages, in exchange of the release of all Palestinian prisoners. Israel refused. You know why? Because this has never been about hostages and their safety for Israel.
There is a reason why Israel shot its own hostages when it mistook them for Palestinian civilians, waving a white cloth. There is a reason why the IDF called to shoot indiscriminately on Oct. 7, knowing that it could kill some of the hostages too. Because Israel wants to kill Palestinians, to "thin out its population" (or maybe we shouldn't take into account the says and actions of Netanyahu too ://). This is why it targets schools and mosques and hospitals and ambulances and refugee camps. Israel knows that if it does get all its hostages back, then there would be nothing to “justify” its genocide in Gaza (although, as UN Secretary-General said : "Nothing can justify the collective punishment of the Palestinian people. The humanitarian situation in Gaza is beyond words")
Israel is the only reason why the hostages aren't fred yet. THEY are unwilling to negotiate the return because they don't want to stop this genocide. What good is a five days ceasefire only for the bombings to return? Do you even realize how psychologically traumatizing it is to have a countdown of when your massacre would resume? The only acceptable deal is for Israel to establish a permanent ceasefire, something that it refuses to do. The only one to blame is Israel.
And you say Israelis would instigate a coup to oust Netanyahu, that's nice, then what? Will you return the land to its rightful people? Will you give back Palestinians their rights unequivocally? Will you call for the dismantlement of Israel that was built on massacres? The reason why Israelis are angry at Netanyahu is rooted in the unresolved hostage situation. Just because you don't support Netanyahu doesn't mean that you aren't a zionist who finds the murder of more than twenty thousands Palestinians justifiable. A young girl had her leg amputated with no anesthesia on the kitchen counter of her home and you talk about “Israel being a bull in a China shop”? You consider the targeted attacks on civilians as careless actions by Israel? It actually astonishes me how inhumane some of you can be.
And here is what Dr. Refaat, who was targeted and murdered by the IDF btw, had to say about this matter:
Whether it's Netanyahu or someone else, it does not matter because Israel as a whole is an occupation, one built on the bloodshed of palestinians.
And it is funny how you choose to distort history whichever way you like it, to regard October 7th as an isolated instance that happened out of the blue. Hamas didn't start anything, Hamas was created in response to the indiscriminate and careless shooting of palestinian civilians in the first Intifada, that was decades ago. October 7th was a resistance to an ongoing colonization, Israel started this when it displaced and murdered palestinians on 1948. None of this would've happened if Israel did not colonize Palestine. It has been 100 days of this ongoing genocide, wake up and stop deluding yourself into a reality where Israel is the victim.
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hmm im thinking about it being the first night simon stays over, and you show him how to take off his makeup. (18+)
he looks tired. you stand in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with the remnants from dinner. you don't want to spend time washing the full sink, you just want to sit next to him and soak up the warmth of him--you had missed him, and all you want to do is curl up next to him and nuzzle your face into his mask and finally get him into your bed, under your covers.
he's never slept over. he's always been adamant about that. always lacing up his boots after the movie, kissing you through the mask after a warm date, tucking you in when you get too tipsy and leaving water by the bedside table. he always goes, and even if he comes back in the morning, he always makes sure he does not stay over.
even when he fucked you the first time--he waited until you fell asleep, and then he left, and he came back in the morning with breakfast, but you knew he went home because he smelled fresh and he was wearing different clothes.
but tonight, he's staying. because you finally asked, and how could he say no to those pretty eyes? to that sweet little pout?
the distance, he was always trying to maintain it. but it was useless. you are not temporary. there is no end date. he can't keep letting you linger at arm's length.
you're soft and sweet, and your cunt is the same, and when he isn't thinking about being cock-deep in you, he's dreaming of your soft voice and your pretty smile and the tender way you kiss him and the way you hug. the all-encompassing, enveloping way you put him at ease. his rage builds, and one look at you, and it is gone.
as if it never mattered in the first place. as if it was never there at all.
so he agreed to stay. his bag sits heavy in your bedroom, clean clothes inside, and his toothbrush is in the same holder as yours in the bathroom. he lingered on it when he had put it there; two versus one. he never wants to see his toothbrush alone ever again.
he blinks awake when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. he's still wearing his army fatigues, black cargo pants and his windbreaker, the skull balaclava tucked under his long sleeve to hide any skin. his holsters are still around his thighs, but they are empty, and his vest is on the floor by the door, where his boots are. he feels your warmth even through the layers, and he leans towards it without thinking.
you kiss the side of his head, cupping under his chin gently.
"tired, simon?" you coo softly. "'s alright. we should get you in bed. been a long day."
"mm...olright," he murmurs, and you look up at him as he stands, and he towers over you, making you feel small, but safe. he's a bear, and he's yours, and he's staying.
you take his hand gently, and he follows you. you stand side-by-side in the bathroom, and you smile at him in the mirror as he unzips his windbreaker, revealing the hoodie underneath. his eyes meet yours, and he winks, and you smile wider, especially when his hand falls, smacking your ass nice and firm.
"wot, luv? somethin' funny, yeah?"
you shake your head and laugh, and then you reach for the headband in the drawer, slipping it over you as you prepare to wash your face. you slip a few products out onto the counter, and your mouth goes dry when simon grips his mask from the back of his head and pulls it completely off.
he is so handsome. his nose is crooked; he's broken it a few times, that's for sure. there's a scar deep across his face, jagged over his lips, and you've felt it when you've kissed him before, but it's jarring to see it. there's a few more across his other cheek, along his forehead, and you break out into nervous giggles as you meet his dark eyes. the eye-black around his eyes has shifted with the fabric of the mask and with sweat, but he still looks hot.
really hot.
you swallow hard and turn the sink on, wetting your hands. simon reaches to do the same, and you watch as he brings his wet hands up and starts to wash his face. immediately, the eye-black just smears, and he has to move more over the sink as he continues to wash.
"simon?"
"'s olright. just takes a few minutes for it to come off."
you smile, "here, i...let me help."
he turns the water off, wiping his face on his sleeve, and you giggle when he looks into the mirror and realizes all he's done is smear the black across his cheeks. he laughs with you, deep and gravelly, and you reach into the drawer and pull out two bracelets made of absorbent fabric.
"give me your hands," you say softly, and he does, and you slip the bracelets over his wrists. "keeps the water from running down your arms."
"fuckin' annoyin' when it does that," he grumbles, and you smile. you reach across the counter, opening a small jar.
"it's called double cleansing. you take this balm--" you get a dime-sized amount onto your finger and you put it into his hand, "--and then you rub it into your hands until it becomes...kinda oily. it'll take off all of...that--" you motion to the black streaks along his face.
"oi, are y'on the piss?" he laughs, "it'll take it oll'off?"
you giggle and nod, "yeah. try it."
he rubs his hands together, warming up the balm, and then he reaches up and massages it into his face. you watch, biting back more laughs, when he realizes how much easier the eye-black moves, coming off onto his hands. when he washes it off, it's nearly gone, and then you give him a dollop of face wash to help rinse the rest away. he dries his face on a towel, grinning in the mirror, and you hug his arm gently as he takes the bracelets off.
your eyes meet again in the mirror, and he smooths his hands down your waist, moving you in front of him, leaning over your and putting his face into your neck. he warms the skin there with soft kisses, and you laugh, buzzing with delight.
"you're so beautiful, luv," he growls in your ear, and you close your eyes.
"you're...y-you're beautiful, too, simon."
"yeah? come off it."
never. you'll never come off whatever high you're on now. you reach up and hold onto him, as much as you can grab, and you close your eyes as you kiss, his lips on yours, something hot in your chest and something soft in your insides.
you hold onto him tighter. you will not let go.
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