#Carrying Torches

[le-souriant]

Listen to it and much more on the #MusicMonday playlist.

@osornios

[eyplaylist]

THE LISTENING STATION - JANUARY 2025

PLAYLIST: THE LISTENING STATION – JANUARY 2025(songs also added to the EYP RADIO 2025 playlist)Spotify – Instagram – Facebook – Twitter – Threads20 Songs – 1 hour, 9 minutesGenres: Indie, Pop, Rock, Alt, Folk, Soul, Indie Rock THE LISTENING STATION RETURNS! Written by Ed Gomez The Listening Station playlists return to Expand Your Playlist as the monthly feature, introducing you to the latest…

[applejuucee]

medic

[hamletthedane]

Imagine telling somebody in 1995 that one day, Snoop Dog and Flavor Flav would both be beloved American icons highly associated with the Olympic Games. With Snoop acting as an official NBC commentator and carrying the actual Olympic torch in his 50s.

They would look at you like you were absolutely insane. What an incredible world we live in

[pinacoladamatata]

kiss

[cvntoid]

erm… predatory/prey play with roman in the workplace……

everyone is gone, like the building is CLOSED closed. he tries to corner his assistant (because duh) and be like hey… what if you let me fuck you? and she just slips her heels off and just. books it.

it’s all in good fun, until it’s not. hopefully no one sees the security footage of him dragging her back into his office by her ankles.

and then he [redacted] her [redacted] until they [redacted]. goodbye 2024.

“I’m bored.”

“Try… I don’t know. Doing some of the paperwork we have to get through. We only have to be here until everything is looked over, signed, filed…” You sigh a long, frustrated sigh, leaning on the desk with your head in your hands. “Roman. You have to throw me a fuckin’ bone, here.” The hour runs so late that everyone else is gone on this floor, only the two of you left. You’re not tired, necessarily, just so utterly over all this paperwork.

Roman smirks at his place behind his desk, flicking his gaze to you from his computer screen. He lifts an eyebrow. “I could throw you a bone.”

A glare has him giggling to himself, that infuriatingly high little inward laugh he does when he’s feeling smug, or clever. It’s actually kind of attractive in an odd way… but so many things about Roman are. It pisses you off. He shouldn’t be allowed to be so smarmy and careless and just… look like that all the time. Roman’s eyes are on yours again and it becomes humiliatingly clear that you’ve just been staring at him, tracing the planes and lines of his handsome features. He turns a little, giving you his full attention now. Tracing his fingertip along some of the papers on his desk. Knowing you’ll watch.

“Oh… are you thinkin’ about it?” Roman licks the edge of his teeth, grinning. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you. I mean… nobody’s here, right?”

“Fuck off,” you say softly. A flush rises up your throat and you roll your eyes, ripping another sheet off the top of the stack to parse through it. “You wish.”

“No… no, I think you wish. I do.” Roman rises up from his chair and you’re forced to look up at him, hands freezing as you move to sign a report. “I think you give me those fuck-me eyes all the time. As if I don’t notice. Oh - don’t make that face. I notice, sweetheart. I know when I’m stuck inside somebody’s mind… stuck tight.”

You feel a strange sort of… something. Something that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, just the way Roman’s standing up right now. Looming over his desk. Moving to walk around the edge. Out of pure instinct, you stand as well, palms on the surface as you rise up. Roman’s eyes are glittering, pupils wide and only getting wider.

“Roman…-”

“We should,” he says. “Fuck, I mean. You should let me bend you over this desk. Or… I mean, you could get down on your knees. I could get down on mine, whatever - equal opportunity fucking, right? I’m told I give some serious lip.”

He advances slowly, smoothly, like an animal as you edge toward the door. He’s smiling, but it’s not actually a smile at all. A wolf licking its chops. Your pulse quickens, a surge of adrenaline making your fingers tremble a little. Roman refuses to back down, his voice drawing lower, quieter, trying to hypnotize you like a cat with his words.

“Bad move, sweetheart. I can run. Probably had no idea, but all I did in fucking military school was get screamed at and run. I will catch you.”

Your breath catches in your throat and it’s then that the slice of fear starts mingling with something else, stomach doing flips. A spreading warmth seems to fill the basin of your hips, all that smoldering heat matching the fever-spots of flush in your cheeks. You slip off your heels, grateful for the carpeting - wearing thin tights might not fare so well on a hard, slippery floor while being chased. And that’s what this is, isn’t it? He’s going to chase you. A tiny shiver zips up your spine.

“I’m gunna give you a head start, just to level the -”

Before he can finish, you’re taking off. His laughter trails behind you, and after turning a corner in the endless rows of cubicles, you drop to your hands and knees and crawl, moving another couple rows over like that, holding your breath. There’s a manic thrill bouncing around inside your body, making you shake as you scuttle underneath a desk, both hands pressed over your own mouth. Somewhere nearby, there are soft, light scuffing sounds as he walks. Barely there, hard to discern. If he’s taken his shoes off, you’re fucked.

After a few agonizing minutes of trying to figure out his location by sound, he walks by. The sight of his legs walking away from you almost makes you gasp - almost. God, you can feel your pulse behind your fucking eyeballs. You inch forward little by little on your hands and knees on the carpet. Roman’s still slowly walking the other way. You rise up to a stand for only a fleeting moment before you stumble over your own goddamn feet, making a little sound as you land roughly on your hands and knees again. There’s a moment frozen in time in which you turn your head sharply to face Roman, and he looks behind his shoulder and sees you. There’s a flash of surprise on his face before he’s smirking, turning fully around, and you only make it a couple of steps before his fingers are digging into the collar of your shirt, yanking you back so that you fall down again, this time on your ass.

Limbs are pinwheeling for purchase - you twist in his grasp and he’s on top of you, laughing, practically panting with excitement. In a moment of blind panic, you slap him in the face and he reels a little. In that moment you scramble up and start running again, and he’s on your fucking heels. His laughter titters just behind you and it makes you giggle in return, giddy with the chase, with the weird combination of fear and arousal and anxiety making you throb. You throb everywhere - your pulse finds a loud, pounding home in the tip of your nose, your chest… your cunt.

Wheeling around a corner too fast, you trip again. Roman’s absolutely beside himself, laughing at you as he leans down and grabs your ankles.

“Hey, you really gave it your all,” he commends, voice dripping with derision. He flashes you a grin, all teeth as he starts dragging you backwards. You try to kick and wiggle, but Roman’s stronger than he looks - he has you in a solid grip, clucking his tongue at you. “No, none of that - you had your chances. I win, and I’m going to cum in your little cunt about it. Okay? That was the deal.”

Your skirt rides up and so does your blouse, everything coming untucked and rucking up. The carpet burns as he drags you across it, and you hiss as you squirm to escape it. Roman watches with a hint of amusement, uninterested in your struggle or your discomfort. He drags you all the way across the floor back to his office, and when you try to clutch at the door frame, Roman is swift to toss your legs to the side and take a step closer to kick it away. He finishes hauling you fully into the office and shuts the door, turning to you with his eyes all hooded and dark, cheeks red with excitement. The both of you tremble, the both of you utterly consumed by a manic sort of adrenaline high.

“Well, it’s not being bent over a desk, but - but I kinda like this better. More intimate, yeah? I get to watch you cum all over my cock. Lucky me - and lucky you,” he purrs, pushing your thighs open. When you lift yourself up on your elbows, he yanks your arms down by the wrists. “Dont. Give it up, honey - the struggle is really nice, don’t get me wrong. Cuuute, just fuckin’ cute as shit. But I’m getting impatient.”

He releases you to reach between your thighs, where he pulls at the fabric of your tights with both hands and rips them open down the center.

“Gotta invest in something that doesn’t get sold from a fuckin’ Walmart, babydoll. That was so easy it was barely fun.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble.

“Oh, you will.” Roman takes a moment to pull your underwear to the side. He runs his fingers along your slit, tracing the edges and folds of your pussy as he spreads it open, looking at it, barely teasing your clit. “You know how wet you are? Dripping. How fucking sad is that? Are you - oh, am I pissing you off? Making you all upset? You look like you wanna hit me. You wanna hit me again?”

You glare at him, opening your lips to say something about it when he laughs, shoving his fingers inside of you without warning, curling them, pumping them with a precision that has your glare dissolving. Moans take away all the words you had. Roman looks positively triumphant - he fucks them a little harder, a little faster, relishing the way you make those stupid, breathy sounds, the look on your face indistinguishable from pain. It excites him to think of that, too - hurting you a little.

“God, if you’re this fuckin’ whiny for my fingers, you’re really gunna love what comes next,” he murmurs.

Then you do slap him - but it can barely be called a slap at all. The impulse comes, you run with it in the heat of the moment, and a second too late you pull the slap a little and it barely registers. He blinks a little in surprise, fingers paused in their rhythm. He fucks them into you even harder as his eyes bore into yours, that delicate, angry vein showing on his forehead. His free hands rests on your inner thigh, gripping the flesh there. Keeping you spread.

“Not great,” he deadpans. “Try it again. This time, do it like you give a fuck about doing something right for once.”

You can do that. You can do that very well, and the crack of your open palm against the same cheek stings your hand. The flush to his face is immediate, and his eyes look black as he yanks his fingers out of your body again and he slaps you back with the same hand. He smiles as he watches you wipe your own cum off your cheek, tears welling up in your lashes. He tilts his head and pouts a little, undoing his slacks and pushing them down his hips. His cock bounces free, and the sight of it catches you completely off guard. It’s not that you’d ever had an expectation, or a particularly specific thought as to his size, but he is surprisingly thick. Long. His smooth, rippled cockflesh laced with veins. He grins, stroking it once or twice, and fuck, it looks gorgeous in his fingers like that as he teases himself.

“Yeah, I mean… at least I didn’t slap you with this, right? You wouldn’t even be conscious for what I’m about to do to you. But, you know… maybe another time.”

“Roman, seriously - you’re gunna have to… you know, take it - take it easy, okay?”

Roman’s eyes get absolutely dreamy, shining in the dimmed light and hooded by his lovely, low eyelids, wet lips parted as he crawls up over you. He leans in and lowers down until he can brush his lips just barely against yours, more a tease than anything else. He tilts his head and licks a wet stripe from the edge of your jaw up to your cheekbone, planting a wet, sloppy kiss there.

“Don’t you worry about that.” He reaches between your bodies and runs the fat, leaking head of his cock along your slit, slowly, up and down, back again. Every couple passes, he pushes the tip deliciously against your hole, rocking there but only barely. There’s a crease between his focused brows when he lifts to watch your expression, moving to keep your gaze even when you get embarrassed. “Look at you, all fuckin’ wriggly and full of shame. You getting desperate, sweetheart? Yeah? Wanna ask me for it?”

“Roman…”

“Mhmm?” Roman nuzzles playfully into your neck and nips at your throat, once, twice, a third time - this time hard enough to make you whine in that adorable way, your hips twitching. He chooses this moment to work more of himself in - only maybe an inch, just a little further, where he rocks infuriatingly slow again as he sucks a deep, dark bruise into your skin. He can’t wait to see what you do with that tomorrow - how you’re going to cover it up. But he’ll know. He’ll know it’s there. “Hey - go ahead. Ask for what you want.”

“Can you.. uh,” you mumble, nerves crashing under the sheer overload of sensation, of throbbing need. God, the entire fucking thing - the fear, the chase, the force, Roman being an insatiable goddamn beast hellbent on destroying you; it’s enough to melt your brain. But if finding a few more words is all that stands between you and the rest, then… “Can you please give me… more?”

“More of my cock?” Roman starts edging more of himself inside, a smooth, slow rolling of his hips, undulating. Each little thrust brings him closer to home, and you’re gasping. He fastens his lips to a new spot on your neck, at the juncture of your shoulder. “Just trying to take it easy, right? Be patient - you’ll get it all, honey.”

Finally, he’s worked himself balls-deep. He rolls so softly, so very tenderly against your cervix, the tip of his thick cock kissing against it over and over in a maddeningly erotic tease. Is it still a tease if there’s no room left to fuck into? He pushes your thighs open and lifts himself up a little, looking down at you. His cheeks are as flushed as yours. You’ve never noticed just how many freckles he has over his cheeks and nose, how they dot him delicately like a surreal expanse of dark stars in a pink sky.

“Touch yourself. Make yourself cum, just like this.”

Zero hesitation - you push your hand down between your thighs, between your bodies, and expertly circle your clit with your fingers. The natural clench against the stretch of him feels otherworldly. The bright, electric sensation of stimulation on the soft cusp of your cervix adds an entirely new layer to it; it’s sharp, but pleasantly so. You sneak a peek between your bodies at the way he rolls his hips, down to where he only slightly moves in and out of you. He keeps you impossibly full. You let your head fall back down and catch his smug lips, the way he licks them.

“Fuck… I’m close,” you whine.

“I know… I know.” God, he almost sounds kind. If you weren’t looking directly at him, you’d believe it. “Do it for me. You’re this tight already… I wanna know what it feels like to have your perfect little pussy milk me dry. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to empty my fucking balls into you, you know that?”

“Oh - fucking…- shit-” Your entire body seems to seize up, and all that molten, coiled tension melts in a series of devastating waves, pulsating, rushing from behind your eyes all the way down to your toes as he continues to rock into you like that through the crash of your orgasm. His breathing gets erratic and he’s leaning down to lick at your throat. After you move your hand to cling to him, he starts to really fuck into you, rearing back just to slam his cock back inside. Suddenly you’re skating on the shockwave of a brand new explosion of pleasure as he sees fit to set a punishing new pace. The curve of his cock finally tends to all those barely-touched nerves in his full, brutal strokes, balls audibly slapping against your body.

“Yeah - keep fucking cumming. It’s okay, I know - it’s a lot to take. You’re doing so good - look at you. Like you were made to take my cock, huh, baby? I’m gunna fill you up, okay? You ready?” His voice is drawn high, soothing, making your head spin as you try to fit the tone of his voice with the sly, mean smirk on his lips. He reaches a hand up and presses his fingers against your lips, sliding two of them over your tongue. “Good girl - good fucking girl.”

The feeling of your lips and tongue on his fingers, the sounds you make, the way you keep clenching around him - it’s the perfect storm. His hips falter at the same time his moans do, and his cock is pulsing inside of you. He pushes deep, fingers matching as they wander toward the back of your throat until you whine, gagging, grabbing at his wrist to stop him. Your teeth scrape his knuckles and he shudders as he moans, rutting his hips in time with each thick spurt of his cum. There’s a wonderful sort of haze where both of your bodies are coming down, muscles relaxing. The beginning of the afterglow. Roman removes his fingers as his body stills, dick softening inside of you. He sticks those fingers into his own mouth without even thinking about it, tasting you, your saliva. Finally he separates from your body and pats the inside of your thigh, giving it a strangely affectionate squeeze. It feels more intimate than everything else you’ve done, in some weird way: the way he didn’t look at you when sucking your saliva off his fingers, the tenderness of the squeeze. Those things go quietly inside of you, somewhere else to peruse later. Things Roman wouldn’t really want you to have; accidental gifts.

“That was…” you trail off, exhaling hard to convey your feelings. You laugh a little bit, a bit of tension releasing as you do. “Jesus Christ.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do all that… you can just call me Roman Roy,” he cracks, smiling wryly. He sighs and pulls himself together, running a hand through his mussed hair before it falls right back into his eyes. “I know, I know. Big ol’ fuckin’ hog, devilishly handsome, and hilarious? I’m the entire goddamn package.”

“Don’t forget filthy rich.”

Roman shakes his head and bows slightly to you, hand outstretched as if giving you the floor. “And filthy rich. If I could just fuck and marry myself, I would. Now, uh… is your back okay? Got a little… scraped up, yeah? You need some, like, Neosporin or some shit?”

“Yeah, in fact - could you also bring me some Mickey Mouse bandaids, maybe a lollipop? Some stickers? I’m fine, Roman… thanks, though.”

“Show you a fuckin’ lollipop,” Roman mutters, running his hands over his face. He snaps his fingers, fidgety, gesturing toward the door. “Come on, let’s get the fuck outta here. Fuck the papers. I’ll make somebody else finish it tomorrow. I don’t care. Romey tired.”

Roman places a chaste hand at the base of your spine, guiding you through the doors to end the evening. There’s a comfortable silence as you separate, Roman heading for his car while you go off to your own apartment in the opposite direction. Closer to arriving home, your phone dings. Roman’s name shows up and you ignore the tiny wisp of a thrill in your gut at seeing his name there inside your phone, not having reached out first.

Overtime required tomorrow. My shopper will have new tights for you - you’re welcome. Make it worth it. -R

[bakudekublogblog]

y'all i know kacchan dying like that must have been traumatizing for the bkdk shippers, but like.... he also died in the gayest way humanly possible.... like i can't even imagine going through that bc on one hand it's like my special boy is dead, but on the other he was so love interest coded, shiggy killed him specifically bc of izuku's intense feelings about him, the fucking yearning for izuku as he died, and then the reveal he carries the little all might card he got with izuku around with him like. i cannot stress enough just how gay his death was. like i just know the shippers had to be a little conflicted

[dustykneed]

elizabeth schuyler was a sister and a daughter. elizabeth hamilton is all that, and a revolutionary's wife, and then the wife of the secretary of the treasury, scorned.

she burns letters, and she commits his penmanship to memory. he only began to loop the H in his name after the end of the war. he used to write like a hurricane was at his heels, in his youth. every poem etched with a shard of his soul, bleeding light like cathedral glass.

she loves him, still. she doesn't think she could ever stop. but she lets him think she has, and eliza is many things, but now, above all else, she is a mother.

so she burns every letter he has written her-- burns months and years and decades-- and she rereads her life in reverse, in the light of her candle flame. she erases his past, every bit of it with love, for her children, for him.

years of her life crumble into ash beside his.

[torchiiko]

RANDY ITA BAG REAL

(pins by @/littlesliceofimmortality, keychain by @/irradiatedsnakes !!)

i didnt get an insert bc on the site i got the bag from they were Expensive. & man i felt bad puncturing this brand new bag <//3 i will have to locate a cheaper one when i have money again

i am SO excited to fill this with more Items & Trinkets!!!!

[isdilsu]

Taskmaster Australia is great because Tom Cashman's entire Assistant Persona relies so heavily on the fact that he's cute

[eyplaylist]

EXPAND YOUR PLAYLIST - NOVEMBER 2024 PLAYLIST

Before we embark on our "End of 2024" review, we have a new playlist for November for you to listen, discover, and Expand Your Playlist!

EXPAND YOUR PLAYLIST: NOVEMBER 2024(SONGS ALSO ADDED TO THE EYP RADIO 2024 PLAYLIST)Spotify – Instagram – Facebook – Twitter – Threads10 Songs – 34 min 24 sec Genres: Indie, Pop, Rock, Alt, Folk, Soul, Indie Rock CONTINUING TO HELP YOU EXPAND YOUR PLAYLIST! Posted by Ed GomezUpdated Saturday November 16th, 2024 This month’s playlist offers a condensed selection of new music, ranging from…

[olive-man]

this is how i kind of see them i think

[hindahoney]

Sometimes I forget to appreciate how wonderful judaism is and how beautiful we are as a people. It's easy to dread the work that comes with Shabbat or the high holidays, but don't forget what you're doing it for. You're engaging in a practice that Jews have for thousands of years, and in a way you're carrying on that memory. What a gift it is to be Jewish, to be able to find family in strangers.

[kidspawn]

Ooh I’m curious now would u like to talk about Ronan/Adam/Kavinsky? Any ideas or hcs? Or just vibes? No pressure ofc :)

(there is no sfw/chaste/healthy way this plays out in my head and that is the majority of the fun here i am holding myself back quite a bit here but this is the kind of dynamic this is played out as imo)

most of the appeal of ronan/adam/kavinsky (for me) comes from thinking, "god what could possibly make rovinsky even more toxic? ah yes let's add adam the control freak who is also a bit of a freak in the other faculties of his life and vocalizes his hatred and distrust of kavinsky wouldn't that be so much fun because see that's a power game between kavinsky and adam and ronan will gladly just be told what to do so adam can just tell ronan what to do but kavinsky needs to be actively tamed into listening and who else to do that but adam who excels in power plays." oh, ronan likes being told what to do? see, kavinsky doesn't realize it yet but he likes being told what to do, too, he just doesn't realize it yet. what a great opportunity. you see the fun of plopping adam into this dynamic is how he and kavinsky canonically hate each other (or kavinsky doesn't really notice adam but bet your ass adam is getting acknowledgment and respect tell me i'm wrong) (oh? adam hears kavinsky thinks they're all at gansey's beck and call? well someone's gotta learn what a lovely conduit to change his view oh ho ho ho) but also they're both hot and they think ronan is hot and these are three individuals who happen to think about sex and cars a shitton for lack of a better word and happen to be either incredibly physical or crave physicality and all i can conclude this with is there would be a lot of angry car sex and ronan is happy and also maybe kind of hates himself a bit but not nearly as much as kavnisky and adam now hate each other. fuck do not make me write this i am writing way too much blame this on the brain fog actually

(also remember the original draft ending for the dream thieves where adam sits in kavinsky's car during the final races which is not at all where my lizard brain scooped this dynamic up haha no not whatsoever hahaha oh hee hee hee *rattles iron bars of my cage*)

[thatsbelievable]

[shannonsketches]

It never ceases to amaze me that Bulma kept the baby tbh. Like people will claim it was a one night stand and they didn't care for each other, but if that were the case, if Bulma didn't care, why would she bind herself to that particular man by virtue of a shared child? If Bulma wanted that baby gone, it would be. But no, she kept it, and appeared so happy to be a mom. Idk, Vegeta must have done something right at the start of that relationship that would make a woman as independent as Bulma agree to have a kid with him less than a year into it.

👆 Yep! And like I said in another post, in the alternate timeline, they didn’t have all of the excuses to stay together and Trunks was still born at the same time despite wildly different circumstances, and Trunks still knew who his father was and what he looked like despite Bulma not talking about him much. She was also the one to tell him to not get his hopes up to meet him, but also that he wasn’t always as cold as he seemed.

Personally I don’t think it was a one-night stand. I hc it was a string of engagements that ended with her telling him she was pregnant and him being disinterested in that (which I’m sure pissed her off), but I don’t think she kept Trunks out of some misguided yearning for a traditional household either.

I don’t know why she kept Trunks, if it was just a ‘maybe this is the only chance I’ll have to experience this’ fear of being single in her 30s(?) or if it was just a gut feeling she went with, or if she was just curious what carrying a half-alien baby would be like. We just don’t know. But we do know that she told Vegeta his name and Vegeta committed that name to memory.

I think Bulma fully planned to be a single mom in all the ways that mattered, but she did still use Vegeta as a threat to protect the baby, so some part of her always trusted that he cared. And the future timeline Bulma was surprised at his reaction to losing Trunks, but it seems like she felt validated by it.

She’s always known. It’s part of why I hc her making the first move and him letting her do it, bc imho that’s a pretty significant Tell.