#your heart is a muscle the size of your fist

[gillianthecat]

I'm watching my anatomy professor's prerecorded lectures on the heart, going over very basic heart anatomy, and he keeps saying things like, "if you're ever in the operating room with an opened thoracic cavity you can orient yourself by the aortic arch," and "if you're going to be doing heart surgery you need to know how to recognize the coronary arteries."

And like jesus fucking christ i would certainly fucking hope you know these things and a lot more before performing heart surgery. Is he imagining us finishing this class, wandering into an operating room and someone handing us a scalpel? "Be prepared, just in case!"

#hw lb #your heart is a muscle the size of your fist #anatomy #gillianthecat goes back to school

[victusinveritas]

#folk punk #pat the bunny #your heart is a muscle the size of your fist

[aztralsea]

Sometimes I wanna sing this song for everyone I know

#ramshackle glory #pat the bunny #your heart is a muscle the size of your fist

[sharinganbitch]

konoha 12 crust punk au. sasuke is putting glue in his mohawk. naruto gets detained for tagging the police station and sakura and sasuke de-arrest him. team 10′s matching earrings are actually gauges. everyone is in a band and they can’t wait to hop a train out of this village. akamaru is a pitbull with a rope leash. 

#your heart is a muscle the size of your fist #au

[ribcageteeth]

🫀

#come vibe with me #ramshackle glory #your heart is a muscle the size of your fist

[moondust-magic]

This world is cursed but sometimes you forget about that for a moment while you're off the penjamin riding in your friends car on a warm night with the windows down blasting ramshackle glory.

#I am literally just vibing #your heart is a muscle the size of your fist #folk punk #ramshackle glory #me

[hbhm-music]

Now Appreciating:

Your Heart is a Muscle the Size of Your Fist - Ramshackle Glory

https://tidal.com/track/132304867

#music appreciation #your heart is a muscle the size of your fist #ramshackle glory #i hold this song up there with im gonna make it through this year if it kills me

[scoobhead]

actually my personal favorite unconfirmed locked tomb theory is that when gideon said "your heart is a party for five thousand nails" at the beginning of gtn it was intended to be read in the cadence of the spongebob squarepants theme song

#like that old tumblr post. yk #'your heart is a muscle the size of your fist' SPONGE BOB SQUARE PANTS #the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #nat og

[fightmeinthesephoraparkinglot]

I'm starting to think I don't actually want to have friends because I think it's inherently good to have friends but so that I can feel normal and so that I no longer have to just stutter and feel ashamed when somebody asks me who my friends are. Which obviously is bad but also why does my brain not find meaningful connections with other humans inherently valuable? What's wrong with me?

#I only want friends so I can relate to “Your Heart is a Muscle the Size of your Fist” #depression #depressed #substance use disorder #loneliness #mental health #autism #actually autistic #anxiety #antisocial #losercore

[hyumjim]

Lee know is an insane person who says nonsense all the time and everybody around him just pretends he makes sense because they are afraid of him. He is like a dictator in this way. Stray kids honorable dictator lee know

#malicious gay faggotry #when he was talking about how u need a heart to keep u alive but he will give u his fist instead because your heart is a muscle the size of #your fist. everybody just nodded.

[gillianthecat]

This phrase keep running through my head whenever I read/talk about the heart as an organ.

Buried somewhere in my closet is a tshirt with this block print on it, created by Dalian Shevin in 1999. I met her once, in an unexpected context, while wearing that shirt, and she was like, oh hey, I made that! It was pretty neat. (But I didn't remember her name, had to look it up.)

It's a good sentence to hold to.

#your heart is a muscle the size of your fist #keep loving keep fighting #dalia shevin #physiology #gillianthecat goes back to school #about gillianthecat

[askmumbojumbo]

I mean. Did you really mess up the pancakes that bad? How do you even mess up pancakes?

-🤍

I mean there's lots of way to mess up pancakes. You can get the ingredients wrong, not mix them enough, under cook them, over cook them...Lots of options

#[ disintegrating trees | asks ] #[ your heart is a muscle the size of your fist | 🤍anon ]

[scrambled-eggsed]

20🥰

Thank you for the ask bestieeeeeee♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

a song that empowers you

Oh man i have two answers. Both Thus Always To Tyrants by The Oh Hellos and Magnolia by Gang Of Youths

#gpnna cheat and add more in the tags #your heart is a muscle the size of your fist by ramshackle glory #still breathing by green day #eurus by the oh hellos #there are so many more but these are tr main ones ig #(thats a lie they arent necessarily the main ones theyre just the ones i can remember now)

[hopefullydrawingdaily]

Today I didn't draw anything great, but I want to try embroidering a patch related to my fav song so I drew how I sort of want it to look like. So uh here's a drawing of a heart

#i want the text to look better when I start making the patch but this was mostly for the heart #so i can figure out the details before i start embroidering #song is 'your heart is a muscle the size of your fist' by ramshackle glory #i also havent done any embroidering in a while

[anantaru]

cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, size kink/size difference, dirty talk, possessive wriothesley, sloppy making out, established relationship

"feel," wriothesley sighs out heavenly— glaring through you, his touch sensual and claiming his territory, his low lidded eyes slowly indulging on your bare figure.

he grabs your hand softly now, to lastly place your palm on top of his growing bulge, smirking from head to toe as his heart jumps at your sultry whimpering.

"see what you do to me?"

"only you can touch me like this,"

it's something wriothesley needs you to know, his deep intention has to reach you, so you're completely aware that he wants you all to himself— after all, he believes that no one knew you the way he did, nobody was able to take in your delicate beauty or your darling figure, you were so fucking perfect in every way, filled the dark space in his heart with your warmth.

without much surprise, the duke swiftly manages to rid himself off his own clothes before leaning into your figure, hungrily lapping into your mouth when he takes his twitching cock in his palm, slowly fisting it up and down and spreading the clear pre on his shaft.

ugh— just thinking about what's about to come manifests tears on your waterline, wriothesley was just so big, that thick and delicious when he slips the head of his cock into you, pressing into your cunt so softly while exhaling through a deep sigh.

you moan together, his voice slightly crumbling when you prance your fingernails through his ripped back— scratching along his muscles until red scratches decorate his tensed skin.

this pretty and wet cunt belongs to him— and your walls are just so soft and cozy that it almost brings him to literal tears.

his erection was battering your twitching cunt with a fast and deep tempo that fucked out your mind, bounced you back and forth the mattress— and like starved of each other, you cut of the sinful noises with wet, passionate kisses, tongues dancing a lewd dance.

you gasp at the blows of hips rattling your body into new heights, your thighs quite jittery when he presses one leg over his shoulder to feel you succumb to him on his cock— more so become entirely delirious on his shaft, high on pheromones mounting the air between you.

wriothesley pulls you closer to him, instantly swallowing the next pitiful whine and stealing it from your wet lips— stretching you out to the hilt until you're clenching on to his shoulders for the dear life of yourself.

at your trembling state, surrounded by his musky scent invading your nostrils— you're turning lightheaded, so overstimulated, lastly letting the duke have his way with you.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut

[rileysluvr]

literally just könig jacking off to you and being delusional idk

He’s tossing and turning in bed, and he can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what he does. He had ditched his shirt after around an hour of staring up at the dark ceiling and feeling like his chest was going to cave in, but the sensation still wouldn’t leave him even after. Like it’s clinging on to every square inch of his body and eating away at him, similar to his tight shirt before being removed, though refusing to dissipate after the multiple attempts in distracting himself.

He’s burning up, and he feels it most beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. He stretches his back and shoulders against his mattress, but it gives him no relief. And he needs that relief, so desperately, he thinks he may just die if he goes another minute longer in this state. The twitching in his muscles with the compulsion that plagues them are far stronger than his mind. He huffs a final exasperation, mutters some broken and degrading swears in German, and ultimately, he gives in.

He swipes his unusually cold palm over his face before dragging it down his chest, trailing across his abdomen and following the wake of soft hair that disappears beneath the peaking waistband of his boxers. His fingertips stretch the band as they dip beneath it, and his breathing is becoming heavier yet weaker, more shaky-like, as they creep closer to where he needs attention the most.

He’s teasing himself, involuntarily and painfully. Perhaps this is his last attempt to allow himself a second thought, think twice before he commits such a dirty act on military grounds. But his mind is far too fuzzy to pay attention, it’s just been so long.

His hand finds his cock, exhaling a shaky breath at the forbidden contact, this is his last chance to turn back. His boxers are growing to be too tight around him, and this time he won’t be able to just put up with it until his thoughts dissipate. He needs release, and soon. It won’t be much, it’s only once, and then he can finally sleep, he convinces himself.

He pulls his boxers down his pelvis, leaving them just below where his hard cock is now free. He wraps his fist around his base, fingers enveloping each vein that bulges with desperation. He groans ever so softly, jaw slacked and eyes closed as goosebumps coat his chest and arms. It’s mere seconds before his mind is plummeting into uncontrollable thoughts and damned-worthy desires.

It’s your hand, he’s already imagining. It’s your smaller fingers around his cock, not enough to compensate for his size but still a hundred-times better than any fist could work. He knows you’d make it work. You’re clever like that, far more than he is.

It’s your thighs straddling his as your arm moves up and down at an excruciating pace. He needs your weight on him so fucking bad, preferably on his shoulders and face as he’d hold you down on his mouth. Fuck, he needs to taste you so bad.

It’s your voice that would talk him through it, command him on what to do until he’s broken down to the young, naive, want-to-be soldier he once was. He’ll do anything you say. He’ll walk through Hell and back if you tell him to. Hand on his heart, honest to whatever god may be out there. Smack him around.

Anything you say.

And it’s him who would satisfy your every want with unending diligence to thank you. Just fucking use him, already.

He couldn’t shake the thought, no matter how hard he tried.

No matter how dirty he felt imagining his coworker in such a position, rather than a woman of what he thinks his type should be, or even an actress from a porn magazine. No matter how unlikely it was that he’d have a chance with you, it’s downright embarrassing. And no matter how heavy that guilt sat in his gut, his fist only squeezes tighter with his strokes, retaining that languid speed that has him gritting his teeth.

You flood his mind and you don’t even know the magnitude of it because you’re just a girl living your, perhaps slightly unconventional, life in the military, and he’s the coworker that people only look twice at to check if, yes, he really is that tall.

Flashes of your face, and that pretty body of yours in the most innocent of outfits, refuse to quit their tormenting of his mind, and here he was, fucking his fist to them at night like a desperate dog. He wants to see how your skin would contrast his pale and heavily scarred exterior, and how you would surely take him from his comfort zone and make him a better man.

He swipes his thumb over the head of his cock with a broken whine, collecting his pre and spreading it down his shaft as far as it goes; fuck, he’s so sensitive, and he just needs more. He can hear your voice in the back of his mind, conceptualizing what you would say as you guide him past his threshold. You’d be so sweet on him, just as you always are on the rare occasion you’re put in a position together where talking seemed the best option for pastime. You really are just perfectly perfect all around, he thinks, and he wants you to know it, so bad.

You’re too good for him, you’re too striking. Truthfully, while the thought of you taking care of him in his most vulnerable state has him thirsting like a dog and bucking his hips up into nothing but a mangled hand and cold air, he knows that’s not him. No, he needs to be of service, one way or another.

He knows he’d be on his knees in front of you, on the ground you walk on, looking up at you with big eyes as he’d place kisses all up and down your bare thighs, careful not to ruin your clothes. He’d worship every part of your body until all you knew was utter admiration, though he doubts you’ve ever gone a day without being honored for your being.

How could any man not leap at the opportunity to praise your every step in life, especially if you’ve taken him to bed?

He actually whines out into the empty space of his quarters, face all beet red and eyes bleary from surprising himself with such an act. Self-deprecating whispers linger in the back of his mind and will remain for when he’s later clearheaded, but for now, the only thing he can think to do is continue fisting his sensitive cock to the notion of being with you.

He’d let you mold him to whatever you wanted, he’d beg you to ride his face and get yourself off with his assistance. He wants to get drunk on your pussy, he knows he would. He knows you’d taste better than anything he has ever had, and he knows he wouldn’t be able to stop himself once he starts unless you say something. Punish him, even, for not doing it right or knowing both of your limits because he’s just such a hungry, greedy whore who only wants more, more, and more.

Should you ever let him into your life, he’d be better off quitting his job and dedicating his future to just making you feel so good and so loved, and so, so proud of him. He wants to hear you call him a good boy, maybe even a loyal slut. Etch it into his skull so he could never forget, as if that’d ever be possible.

He’d fuck you in any position you’d like, and he means any.

Lay on your back, legs spread and just begging for him to bury his face in your cunt, and he’ll listen like the good boy he is until you’re beyond satisfied. Stretch it out to hours if you please; the man has stamina that would put any gold-medalist to shame, and never once in his life, has he been a quitter.

“i’m good, i promise i am… i’ll be a good boy for you, please.”

Pin him to the mattress and ride him until he can’t think or speak, use him to reach your own high while taking him for all that he has because that’s all he’s there for, is to make you feel good. The strictest soldier would turn to putty under your hold.

“das ist—…s’too much, ich flehe dich—ngh—! bitte, bitte—”

Pull him into an abandoned building and make him fuck you on the cold, hard floor despite being at work, on the job. He would jeopardize even the highest value of intel for a piece of you.

“i’ll do anything, i swear… i’ll be quiet, i-i’ll let you use me… jus’ wanna make you feel good. it’ll make me feel good, too.”

Either way, he’s going to end up on his knees once again and, if you allowed, watch his pearly cum drip from your puffy cunt before taking two of his fingers and pushing it back in, words and babbles of endless praise slipping from his lips as he imagines the idea of starting his own little family with you.

His abdomen feels tighter just thinking of it, you, and his hand with a lethargic pace around his cock. His breathing is jagged, ruthlessly so, and it picks up when his fist does as well. He stretches and rolls his shoulders, dying whimpers spilling from his lips. Your name, as well, and he’s blushing more violently then ever. You’ve got a spell on him; he’s all yours, if you want.

Christ, what would you say to him right now? Scold him, berate him. Even slap him for jerking off to the mental image of you without your permission, and edge him until he cries like an abandoned baby. Call him pathetic and promise him he’ll never, ever have a chance because he is such a coward, and all.

Oh, but you’re just so sweet on him. He doesn’t think he’s ever even heard you swear, let alone insult someone. You go to such great lengths to lighten the mood, make people feel so safe and welcome around you. And your fucking laugh, Christ, your giggles are always music to his ears. Anything that isn’t praise would sound far too foreign in your voice for him to compute. With those soft, plump lips at his ear, cooing him through his high he’s gonna reach so early, so fucking soon— fuck, he's…

He’s gonna—

A soft knocking on his door causes his hand to stop and eyes to shoot open, lightly gasping for air as he was pulled just seconds away from his orgasm. He’s frozen, dead in his tracks, and he waits for it to happen again to make sure he wasn’t just hearing things. The one time, he succumbs to his perverse hankerings.

A few seconds go by before he hears the knocking once more, this time sure it was for him. He swiftly sits up and then stands, shoving his cock in his boxers and pulling his pants back up. He leans down to grab his shirt, pulling it over his big head, introducing a new type of discomfort from before due to the cold sweat he broke coating his chest. He’s reaching for his helmet when there’s a voice coming from the other side of the door, and the hardened soldier nearly jumps in surprise.

“König?”

Oh, fuck. His entire body tenses up at the wake of your voice. Outside his room, right now, when he was just fucking his fist to the image of you. He couldn’t begin to describe or label what he’s feeling, but it’s something along the lines of utter shame and mortification. He mutters a quick and defeated curse under his breath, aggression only aimed at himself.

You’re speaking up again before he even has time to think, granted his mind was spinning and he was making no move to answer you. He’s frozen, stuck in space. Time seemed to race by him without warning, and he hated it.

“Are you awake?”

Your voice is gentle, as always, and so quiet in order to not wake anyone else in the corridor. He’s surprised he could understand you so well, then again, he’d recognize your voice from a klick away.

Could you hear him from outside his door? He wouldn’t ever be able to recover. His hard cock twitches in his pants at the thought of being caught in the act of jerking off to you, and he shakes his head, fighting back the groan boiling in his chest at the simple, yet so fucking intricate, idea of it. He’s a mess.

He decides against the hood, which would most likely prove a mistake as he could literally feel the heat exuding from his face. He knows his hair is a sore sight and his clothes are wrinkled beyond repair. You’ve ruined him, and you don’t even know it.

He swallows thickly as he trudges over to the door, attempting to clear his throat and stabilize his breathing, and his hot palm lands on the screaming door handle.

#cod mw2 #könig #könig x reader #könig x fem reader #könig x female reader #könig smut #könig mw2 #könig cod