#fuck you hp

[courfee]

17 December 1975 / 15 May 1976

[fleshmonger]

I remember this laptop, the worst fucking laptop ever built.

This man would need to pay me to take this laptop off of his hands.

The HP pavilion mother fuckin dv6500

This laptop comes with Windows XP media center edition, easily runs Vista and honestly was a very decent laptop for its time. It even had a remote in the little express card slot thingy that you could use to control media playback and volume wirelessly via IR. This laptop really only has one fatal flaw.

The cooling on the GPU is so poor that it will heat up and desolder itself from the main board.

When I brought this laptop to my cousin who specialized in being an ADHD computer nerd like me but smarter and more equipped he popped out the heat gun, made a tin foil barrier to direct all the air, showed this motherboard who the fuck owns it. The laptop worked flawlessly after being reflowed.

He told me what he did and that I can repeat it by baking the motherboard at a very specific temperature in my oven at home.

I have vivid memories of disassembling this laptop completely, putting its main board in a large glass cooking bowl and popping it in my oven at 200 degrees Celsius for no more than 15 minutes so I could attempt to melt all the solder and hopefully make the connections whole again in the GPU.

The first time, it worked flawlessly. I had gained an extra week of life out of that laptop. Subsequent attempts were met with varying success. Eventually this led to me sitting in my living room pressing the power button, watching all the blue lights turn on for half a second and then immediately turn off over and over again. I would do this for hours because the laptop would turn on like once every 50 tries (it only worked for about 10 minutes)

Then one day I got frustrated and started beating it with my shoe because my 14 year old brain told me objects can't feel pain so it was okay to get violent with it.

Maybe I should buy this Facebook marketplace laptop. Maybe an extra 11 years of amateur electronics repair experience would help and I'd actually figure out what's really wrong with it this time.

Nah fuck that.

[your-local-asylum-escapee]

the Blueprint™ for any mlm ship is literally just a dark-haired skinny loser and his himbo light-haired bf

oh and also at least one of 'em has blue eyes... I don't make the rules here

[siriussslut]

sending remus a video….

warnings: smut, masturbating, sending nudes, one use of “daddy”

masterlist

remus’ phone buzzes with a message. he slides his phone under the table, careful to make sure no one can tell he’s not paying attention, and clicks into your chat. when he sees the video’s thumbnail he regrets checking the message at all, feeling his pants painstakingly tighten.

your pussy stares back at him, bright pink and dripping, hands spreading your folds wide open. he shakily shoves his phone into his pocket, glancing back up. his boss is explaining something or other while all the other people present listen intensely. he remembers vaguely that this is an important meeting, but all he can think about is you.

the two of you hadn’t seen each other for the past week as he was away on business, meaning the two of you hadn’t fucked in almost a week. and he could fucking feel it in the way his dick begged for you now.

the minute the meeting ends he’s rushing outside, and locking the bathroom door. he clicks back into your chat and props his phone up on a shelf. he presses play, practically salivating at the sight of you.

a breathy moan pierces the silence of the bathroom. your fingers slide between your folds, cunt slick and ready. you spread them open, showing remus just how wet you are.

“fuck,” he groans, cupping his bulge through his pants. he’s practically shaking with desire as sloppily undoes his belt, letting his cock spring free. he’s already fully erect, just begging to be touched.

his fingers wrap around his cock while you shove two fingers into your dripping hole.

“oh, daddy, i miss you,” you say, voice low and sultry.

he moans, thrusting into his fisted hand.

“i wish it was your cock inside of me right now,” you say, adding a third finger inside. you thrust harder, filling the bathroom with lewd wet noises. you’re splashing onto the camera now, leaving his screen painted in your wetness.

“fuck, baby,” the words tumble out of his lips in a horny haze. he reaches down to squeeze his balls, imagining your hands instead.

your other hand finds its way on screen, spreading your pussy lips further, traveling upwards and uncovering your clit. it’s engorged and visibly throbbing. your fingers circle it, before giving it a sharp squeeze. you cry out.

with a string of whimpers and moans you come onto the screen, drenching the camera. remus throws his head back with a moan, coming into his fist. his seed flies onto the screen, painting your pretty pussy with his babies.

“fuck.”

[http-wolfstar]

Late night studying ⭐️

[killlavendr]

“He bullied children and was an awful teacher” have you considered the facts that one he is not real and two I don’t care

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

The Haunted Palace (1963) dir. Roger Corman

[dufferpuffer]

Just a reminder that Albus Dumbledore did not raise Harry as a pig for slaughter. That was never his intent - and never his desire.

He was doing his best to keep him alive the entire time. He found out eventually that Harry would HAVE to die in order to kill the horcrux in his head - and keeping Harry alive was having an eyeglass for Voldemort to see through... but he kept him. Why...?

Because he didn't want him to die. He was willing to throw away the well being of everyone to find a solution that would keep him alive.

“I cared about you too much,” said Dumbledore simply. “I cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth, more for your peace of mind than my plan, more for your life than the lives that might be lost if the plan failed. In other words, I acted exactly as Voldemort expects we fools who love to act. ... ... What did I care if numbers of nameless and faceless people and creatures were slaughtered in the vague future, if in the here and now you were alive, and well, and happy? I never dreamed that I would have such a person on my hands."

OotP pg 838/839

(Love how that last line insinuates he never thought he would have someone in his life he cared for this much. Someone he was willing to forgo logic and his morals for. Someone who would make him willingly weak and vulnerable to mistakes.)

Albus is not a warm man. He has never had much experience with love. He has faced hardships, over and over, and learned that one must remain detached in order to be logical and responsible.

But it was his attachment to Harry, his love - that protected him, his sacrifice that let him be the boy who lived a second time. He could have sacrificed Harry like a pig for slaughter... but instead he risked everything so Harry could be the pig that got away. He probably shouldn't have. He probably should have just killed him.

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

James Potter not being able to hide his bewilderment when he sees that baby Harry has inherited his mother’s green eyes… James Potter skipping around the house, his and Sirius’s voices draining each other as they stand together looking down at the new member of the Potter family sleeping tightly, their eyes shining and mouths running….

James Potter, who never lived long enough to learn that Harry also inherited his mother’s sarcasm, her humour…

Harry James Potter, who inherited Lily’s gaze, that look in his eyes… like he was older than his age… Harry Potter, who inherited Lily’s desperate need to prove herself, Lily’s posture, the way Lily wrote her g’s… Harry, who inherited not only traits from his mother, but also traits from his father.

Harry with his father’s messy hair, Harry who bounces his leg when he’s stressed and ruffles his hair when he’s nervous, unlike his father who ruffled it to impress girls. Harry with a glimpse of his father’s mischievousness in his Lily eyes. Harry who talks in his sleep like his father, Harry with dimples like his father, Harry with poor eyesight like his father.

It’s all a mess of Lily (can’t function properly under stress), James (showers in cold water)… and Harry himself (short temper). Because if it’s something so many people seem to forget about him, which always pisses him off, is that Harry is his own person too.

He loves Treacle Tart, he has his own awkward little laugh, he can’t control his face, he bites his nails when studying, he loves strong smells, and that’s all him. Just… him.

And what Sirius never got to tell him, is that: if people would try to look past the way his parents are still with him in his eyes, behind his smile and in his heart… they would see a wonderful young boy. So much more than what his parents ever made him. Harry raised himself. Harry grew up to be his own.

But Sirius never got to tell him that, just like he never got to tell him that he had Remus’s awkward flush, Sirius’s shit-eating grin, Dorcas’s frustrated resting face, Regulus’s unbothered expression when he was locked into his own little shell… traits that were Mary’s, Marlene’s, James’s, Lily’s, and most importantly Harry’s own.

Sirius never even learnt if these were things Harry would have liked to hear.

[mysmuttyy]

LISTEN; MATTHEO RIDDLE SMUT

stalker mattheo knows a lot about you, stuff nobody else knows.

MY BACK IS PRESSED AGAINST A TREE, thick book resting in the palm of my hands, pages flicking over in the wind. I haven’t been able to focus for the past five minutes, all I’ve done is stare out at the water, watching the leaves move with the wind.

The wind blows against me, fly aways falling into my eyes, repeatedly. I huff, tugging the strands behind my ears, but it’s no use.

I get close to getting up and leaving, but the sound of leaves crunching a little behind me steals my attention. Not many people know about the black lake, which is pretty odd because you’d expect the exact opposite, right?

My eyes focus on a tall figure, curly hair, muscular body. I can’t quite pinpoint who he is - til he gets closer, not noticing me under the big tree closest to the water.

I exhale a deep breath, about to get up and leave, again, but he steals my attention away. Slipping his black shirt over his head, tossing it by my feet.

His back muscles stare right at me and I can’t help but slam my thighs together, hoping he didn’t hear the slap of my skin. I breathe heavily, eyes wandering down his well toned figure.

Thick thighs stand out to me, sending wild thoughts running through my brain. A wet patch forms on the front of my lace panties, clit throbbing for him.

Mattheo Riddle, the dark lords son, someone they say is extremely dangerous. One they avoid in the halls, never daring to make eye contact with him. In my honest opinion, I think they’re over exaggerating. If he was a dangerous person, he would’ve done something by now and he hasn’t.

He keeps to himself and minds his business.

It kinda breaks my heart. He doesn’t have any friends, because people would rather judge him than get to know him. Stuck up rich kids with slyly torment him, trying to rile him up, but he ignores it.

“Are you done staring at me, y/n?” His deep voice speaks, making my stomach flutter with a flock of butterflies. That’s the first time I’ve heard him speak in two years.

The last time he spoke, he was apologising for getting in my way. If he was so dangerous, why would he apologise?

He clears his throat, pulling me out of my messy train of thoughts. “S-Sorry..Um, I’ll leave!” I exclaim, but he shakes his head at me, running his wet hand through his, now wet curls.

I push my thighs together once more, my face growing red at the way his stare makes me feel. “Did I say you had to leave?” He asks, raising his brows at me.

My heart beats even faster, so fast I fear it might pump out of my chest. “Well what do you want me to do?” I question, trying my best not to sound scared of him. It’s not that I’m scared of him, he’s just incredibly gorgeous and it makes me nervous.

Too nervous to speak.

“Take your shirt off.” He smiles, crossing his arms over his chest. My breath hitches, eyes widening at his words. His brown eyes stare into my blue ones, something glistening in them, something I can’t figure.

“My shirt?” I test, raising my brows, a smirk crossing over my face. He laughs, looking down at his chest. My body lifts, back no longer pressed against the painful back that was digging into my skin.

I slowly pull my shirt up, over my head, dropping it on top of his. He looks back up, face growing red when he looks at my cleavage. My smirk grows as I put my hands out, waiting for him to help my body into the water.

He takes my hands into his, turning me into liquid with just his touch. All of my confidence evaporates, on the spot, hairs that lie on the back of my neck sticking up. “T-Thank you.” I mumble, looking away from his gorgeous face.

Now that I’m in the water, the wetness of my arousal is easier to ignore. Mattheo and I’s hands are still touching, intertwined. The tension between us quickly grows, his eyes flickering down to my lips.

“Fuck, this is bad.” I speak, bursting the silence. He raises his brows at me, tilting his head in confusion. The curls on his head flop to the side, making me almost giggle at how cute it is.

“What’s bad?” He asks, confused look quickly turning into a excited, yet evil look. “Maybe you getting wet at my muscles, slamming your thighs together in hopes the throbbing dies down?” He ponders, letting my hands go, stepping closer to me.

I quiver, eyes widened, face tomato red. “Or maybe it’s the fact that you want me to fuck you right now?” He continues, fucking with your mind.

Anger boils in your chest as you step forward, slamming your hands against his wet chest. “First of, fucker! It’s considered rude to invade my mind without consent!” I shout, glaring up at the man with audacity probably bigger than his dick.

He scoffs, grabbing my throat in his veiny hand. “You must be really horny to be thinking of how big my dick is, huh?” He laughs, leaning down to my face.

“You’re thinking of fucking my tits, Mattheo. Don’t act so fucking innocent.” I retort, glaring harder at him. He lets my throat go, a look of shock on his face.

The two of us remain silent, our eyes locked, deep diving into one another’s brain. I grow tired of it, leaning up to finally smash my lips against his.

He kisses back, wrapping his arms around my body, pulling me to his chest. My breast press up against his chest, causing him to grow hard against my body.

“Tsk, tsk. You just got hard because of a stranger, that’s gotta be a little embarrassing.” You tease, not expecting him to say what he says..

“You’re not a stranger baby.”

—

A/n; I really don’t know what this is, but I’m really obsessed with the quiet kid trope. Mainly because I’m obsessed with a quiet kid at school 😃😃

Anyways, please send in some suggestions for what smut to write and who it’s ab!! Should I do pt 2?

[courfee]

it's been exactly a year since the last chapter of Operation Walburga's Arbitrary No Kissing Ever Rule and I still miss it. This scene is probably one of my favourite things I've ever written and I've wanted to draw it for forever, so now seemed like an appropriate time

[gerrykeaysbathmat]

James Potter is 100% that boyfriend from that one post thats like "bro just blew out my back and now he's talking about bionicles" or some shit idr. Bro goes from 😈💦🥵🔥 to 🤓👆👓🧹 so fast its insane

[shrimpalbuspotter]

I've been wanting to do this since I saw the post made by @394halfbloodprince... And now I've done it. .

[siriussslut]

Omg more cowboy rem plssss!! Literally anything he’s just so hot. Maybe size kink and manhandling, he must be so strong working all day like that, would be a shame if he didn’t have somethin pretty to throw around afterwards🥹

cowboy remus is hot i’d be his perfect lil house wife i need him SOOOOSSOSOBADDDD

anyways, warnings: size kink, dom/sub dynamic, use of “sir”, “doll”, and “good girl,” breeding kink, stomach bulge, mention of pregnancy

masterlist

remus tosses you carelessly against the kitchen table, your back slamming into the wood. he pushes you further down with ease, spreading your thighs wide open. you whine as he leans down, looking directly at your pussy as he shoves your panties aside.

the cloth is already soaked through, leaking onto your skirt. “fuck, baby, you’re so wet.” he spreads your legs wider, his large hands gripping your thighs with urgency.

you swing yourself upwards as he straightens, immediately reaching to undo his shirt. he lets you, and you toss it onto the floor the minute his bare chest is exposed. he’s slick with sweat and dirt, filthy after a long day of work on the ranch. you want to lick him.

before you get the chance, he pushes you back down, undoing his belt as you go. his dick swings out of his boxers, giant and erect. he leans closer and it ghosts your core, teasing the skin of your inner thighs.

“this alright, doll?” he asks, his voice a low murmur.

“y-yes, sir.”

he grins and grips your legs tighter, slowly sliding his dick into your wet pussy. you moan as he fills you up with his full length, gasping once again at his size.

“does that feel good?”

“mhm,” you manage to choke out, voice an octave too high.

he thrusts into you and you see a slight bulge through the cloth of your apron, right above your bellybutton.

wetness pools in your cunt, spilling out onto your inner thighs.

“you’re s-so big.”

“is it too much for your tight little pussy?” he asks, thrusting into you deep and slow.

“no! no, sir, i can take it.”

his fingers slide down to play with your pulsating clit. “good girl.”

you grind into his touch, back arching against the table where the two of you had eaten breakfast along with your children just hours before. where you’ll eat dinner tonight.

you cry out as he somehow manages to go even deeper, pussy walls fluttering against his insane length.

he growls, “fuckin’ love this pretty pussy.”

you reach for something, anything to ground you through his thrusts, fingers grasping onto his bare hip. freshly manicured nails dig into his flesh, hard enough to leave marks.

an animalistic whine of pure lust escapes his throat. he fucks you faster, fucks you deeper, hitting all the right spots.

your vision goes blurry, blobs of black dotting your sight.

he rolls his hips into yours, managing to get even closer. you can feel his sweat dripping down onto your skin. “can’t wait to fill this tight li’l pussy up,” he rasps out.

the thought has your pulse quickening, excitement at him fucking another baby into you.

“please!” you scream, voice needy and unguarded. “please.”

his cock jerks around against your walls once, twice, before he’s creaming, filling you up with ropes of hot cum. he thrusts deeper into you, pushing his thick white seed further inside of you, plugging your pussy.

“do you like that? do you like being full of m’babies?”

“y-yes, yes sir. i do.”

he leans down to pepper kisses down your sweaty chest, making a mental note to buy a pregnancy test.

[nightmare-creatures-art]

[galaxostars]

“where else did he want to run to when he was scared besides right here?”

extract from a scene in Hide Your Fires by @starsworth

I am still in pieces since that hug ✌🏻