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I literally can’t function when he wears his glasses 😍🥰

Via: cjharvey2 insta

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I call this one: gross but it made me laugh.

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you guys I actually can't get over how Steve taking Billy's advice for real saved his life

like that's a canon choice they made. they chose to focus on Steve digging his feet into the ground

"plant your feet, draw a charge" and that's EXACTLY what he did and we see moments later that if he had done truly anything else he would have been torn to shreds. he wouldn't have been able to get back into the bus

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clip from pavements

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Prompt: You’ve been feeling shitty the past few days and the only one who noticed is Gator. He’s made a passing comment about it when you served him his breakfast at the diner but you ignored him. Now he’s at your doorstep, determined to look after you.

Extra tags: reader called princess, unprotected piv, period sex, tender gator

“Now Princess.” Gator looks you over, holding two bags of groceries. You don’t even know how he knows where you live, but you’re too tired to yell at him. “Lemme be a good man and take care of ya.”

“Gator, it’s just getting close to my time of the month.” You lean against the door frame and he raises an eyebrow.

“Ya think that’s gonna scare me off Princess.” He nudges his way past you into your small apartment and starts unpacking the grocery bags. “I have two little sisters. They’ll be getting it sometime soon.” You see chicken, noodles, mirepoix, hot sauce and bullion. “Still gonna make ya soup.” You look at him, a little shocked by how this is the same guy who made crass comment after crass comment about you that he didn’t think you heard. You thought he hated you, especially after a vicious comment he’d made about an old dyke that was flirting with you and causing you to blush. It’s only now occurring to you that Gator might have been jealous that you didn’t respond to his half assed flirting.

“You don’t have to.”

He shrugs and starts hunting your kitchen for a pot. You don’t often see him outside of his uniform but he left his hair without gel today and is dressed in a tank top and khakis. He looks a bit soft now that he’s out of uniform but that stupid LOL tattoo is something you want to scrub off his arm. If he was going to get some stupid millennial tattoo, he could’ve at least gotten the mustache tattoo.

“I want to.” He says something else under his breath as he slices up the chicken that sounds suspiciously like ‘Since ya don’t flirt back’.

You sigh and head into your tiny living room, leaving Gator to cook. If he wanted you to flirt back, he should’ve put in the effort. After a bit, he joins you.

“The soups started.” He looks you over, hazel eyes filled with something. His hand hesitates for a second. “If it’s just yar period, does that mean ya need sex? That helps with the cramps doesn’t it? I could go down on ya.”

Your head almost snaps when he says that. You stare at him, surprised he even knows about that because he seems like a stick it in and thinks that does it guy. It never occured to you that Gator might be a munch.

“Look ya don’t have to say yes. I’m just offerin’.” He looks a bit put out and you sigh. It’s been ages since you’ve gotten eaten out.

“Didn’t take you for a pussy eater.”

He scoffs. “What? Cause I’m a redneck?”

You shrug. Tuck your legs up on the couch and look him over. You close your eyes for a second and imagine it. Running your fingers through his brown locks as he has your legs spread open; his tongue working it’s way over your clit. Your leg slowly moves open, your nightgown moving just enough.

“I mean never had the chance ta earn my red wings but I’m willing.” Your eyes flash open and you look at him. He seems a little unsure of himself so you nudge him with your foot. His eyes connect with yours and you gently tug your nightgown up as an invitation. He looks at you like a starved man seeing his first meal. Suddenly you’re put on your back and he’s slotted between your legs, hanging over you. “Gunna be real gentle with you Princess.” He leans down and kisses you softly, with a tenderness you never would expect from him. His nose does brush your eyelid as he kisses you but you can’t fault him for his genetics as you kiss back.

His tongue laps at your lip for entrance and you allow it, moaning as his hands slide up your nightgown to grip your breasts. He’s going all in, squeezing them, palming them with just the right pressure; not too rough and not too soft. Your nightgown gets pushed up as he pulls back, tugging on your lower lip and you feel his rough palms on your soft skin, skating over your nipples causing them to pebble. He kisses you again, trailing his hands up and down your sides, always squeezing your breasts when he came up.

“Fuck, Gator.” You moan when he pulls back from the kiss and squeezes your hips.

“That good Princess?”

You blush. “Shut it. It’s been a while.”

“Like a virgin?” He grins that shit eating grin of his before taking one of your breasts in his mouth, looking almost like a chipmunk as he sucks and laps at your nipple. You want to slap him but it feels good. Your fingers card through his hair, encouraging him to keep sucking, while his other hand squeezes. He eventually comes back up for air, eyes blown wide. “Could do that forever.” He leans forward and starts sucking on your neglected other breast, causing pleasure to shoot up your spine as he twists your nipple to keep it hard.

A whine climbs up your throat, hips bucking against him, showing off how soaked you are. His movements are going down deep into your core, causing a gush of blood onto your period panties. It made you feel a bit shy, as if he might turn away. He pulls back, kissing a trail down your belly. As his hands curl around your panties, he looks up at you.

“Where are ya towels?”

You look up at him, panting. “Bathroom closet.”

“Don’t wanna ruin ya couch.” He grins at you before heading off to find your bathroom. What seems like hours but is only minutes, he comes back, towel in hand. You lift your hips and he tucks the towel under before pulling your panties down. He looks at your core and it makes you feel a bit self conscious. His fingers slowly trail through your pubic hairs as if he doesn’t care at all about the blood and they meet your clit. A shiver goes through your body as he slowly starts stroking it from hood to tip. “Ya like that Princess?” You nod, holding back a whine as he slips a finger into you. He leans down, his tongue seeking out your clit and slowly flicking over it.

You card your fingers through his hair again, trying not to shove his face down. He laps ever so carefully, exploring each inch of you while his fingers work inside of you. You let out a contented sigh when he picks up his pace, enjoying how tender he’s being.

“Princess, ya want me ta fuck ya?” He lifts his head, blood covering his chin in a faint shean. Your eyes widen at him suddenly asking about that, his fingers finally finding that knot of nerves inside of you. “Please tell me ya want me ta fuck ya.” You nod slowly and he leans back, wiping his fingers off on the towel as his tongue swipes out to lick away the blood on his face. His hands go to his belt and he tugs his khakis down to his knees before pulling down his boxers. His cock springs forward and your eyes widen again at his size. How was it going to fit inside you? His hands push your legs up against your chest, bending you in a way you’ve never been bent before. He takes his cock in his hand, rubbing the head over your core, not caring about the blood before slowly pushing the head into your hole.

“Gator.” You gasp as he fully seats himself into you. He looks up a little concerned.

“Is it hurtin’?” You shake your head, feeling full. He rocks his hips a little and you moan a bit. “Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He keeps his thrusts shallow, his hand coming up to rub your clit almost lazily. His dick catches on just the right spot and your head suddenly jerks to the side, as if you got a shock jolted up your whole side and you drag your hand up his chest, snaking under his tank top. Your nails catch on his nipple, buried in all that hair, your legs wrapping around him.

“More.” You demand and he grins. He allows you to peel his tank top off and leans forward over you. “Fuck. Gator.” His lips are on yours again as he starts fucking you more earnestly, speeding up just a bit and hitting that spot again. Moans tumble off your lips as he keeps hitting that spot over and over again. Your first orgasm sneaks up on you and you feel the gush around him. It’s like that sets him off as he grabs your hips and starts taking longer strokes, almost popping his dick all the way out before pushing it back in. Another orgasm rips through your body as your moans increase in volume. You black out, not even realizing you’ve hit a third orgasm on just his cock until he’s pulling out. There’s a whine in the back of your throat at how empty you feel as he pulls out and you look down to see him jacking off over your stomach. The slick sound of his foreskin over the head is a sound you like. His eyes flutter shut as he throws his head back, a soft moan coming from his throat. He looks down at you, all sex and sweat and his tongue poking out between his lips. His cock is weeping precum all over your skin. Your hand goes up to greet his in jacking him off, fingers playing with his sensitive head. When he cums, it’s sudden. His head is thrown back and he lets out a panting groan, hips bucking as if he can’t control it. There’s a puddle of cum that’s all over your stomach and shooting up over your breasts. He can’t seem to control his hips or his spurts but when he finally stops cumming, his hips still move just a bit like he can’t control it.

“Ya didn’t hafta do that Princess.” He looks down at you and you have a moment of boldness. You run your finger through the cum puddle before lifting it to your mouth and sucking on it, taking in his taste. If this is gonna have a repeat, you’re gonna need to change his diet a bit. He groans again before taking your chin and kissing you again. “That was fuckin’ hot.”

You let out a giggle and kiss him back, tongues swirling as he takes in the taste of himself on your tongue and you take in the taste of yourself on him.

“Princess, I’ll take care of ya any way ya want me to.” You slowly nod, enjoying this. Gator seemed so different from how he was in public. He was so attentive. You wanted this again. You so wanted this again and the fact that he went down on you while you were on your period solidified it. You didn’t know where this was going to go, but he deserved a chance.

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:'( <3

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Djo Paris

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Make Me Choose @steadfastsaturnsrings asked: ↳ Steve and his nail bat or Eddie playing the guitar

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why is he so damn cuteeeee???

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Basic life stuff on Father’s Day your dad may have never taught you

Men’s pants often have what’s called vanity sizing so a 32 inch waist between different brands is actually different sometimes. It’s still a good idea to try the pants on before you buy them.

A flathead screwdriver can be used on a Phillips head screw.

It’s always morally correct to simply walk away from a salesman. You don’t need to buy a mattress to be polite. Just leave. Walk away. Skedaddle.

A complete meal has fat, protein, carbs, and some kind of fruit or vegetable. A snack should have carbs and protein. That’s how you stay full for longer and get your vitamins. It’s really that simple.

Dumpster diving is legal in many countries including the US, Canada, and Australia but trespassing and property damage are illegal. If you are allowed to be in an area and can access the trash without breaking anything you can just take stuff

You should be thinking about retirement savings even in your 20s and 30s. Get a mutual fund.

If you go gambling, only spend cash and pull out exactly as much money as you’re willing to lose from the atm. Never use a credit card in a casino if you can avoid it.

You can add a layer of seasoning to a cast iron skillet right on the stove. You don’t actually have to put it in the oven every time.

To build a fire, build a little pile of kindling first with plenty of air under it. This can be sticks or leftover wood from the hardware store. Doesn’t matter. Then light some newspaper or leaves under it. This’ll help the kindling catch on fire. Then you can add a log to it. The log needs a long exposure to flames before it catches on fire.

Fresh cut wood needs to dry out for several months before it’ll work as either building material or firewood. Several years is even better.

Flower delivery for simple bouquets costs less than you think it does and makes a nice gift for people who are hard to shop for

University libraries often let the general public get a card to check things out from them for a yearly fee. This is useful to know if you’re ever doing some specific research.

To make hard boiled eggs easier to peel boil them with just barely enough to cover and let a lot of the water burn off. Then shock them in an ice bath when they’re done.

If you or your pets end up killing a venemous snake by accident or in self defense you should bury the head so that no animals get poisoned by it because the fangs can still distribute venom

Tall people who visit your house can see the tops of your cabinets and bookshelves. Clean accordingly if you don’t want people to see dust.

Annuals are plants that will die after one year and perennials are plants that live for multiple years

If you feel gross and like your life sucks maybe try getting a haircut

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Astronaut readjusts to life back on Earth

> Don’t give him a baby for a while.

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Appalachian Folk Magic and The Question Of Appropriation.

"Appalachian folk magic" is spoken of as if it were a single monolithic Tradition.

It's not. It's really really not. It's threads from multiple intermixed traditions, further intermixed and evolved due to the isolation of the people and the very overt and accepted influence of the spirits of the land and The Knowing/The Cunning/The Sight/etc.

Plenty of us don't even particularly care for the word "magic". Most abilities and operations that will be shared are shared namelessly. It might be referred to by practitioners as witchcraft, a wives tale, a superstition, but usually it's straight up just instructions.

"Appalachian folk magic" is A Blanket Term for all folk magics from the general area. Not a mystical tradition distinct from those traditions. When people don't remember the metadata of "From The Pow Wow Tradition, or From the Ozarks or From Central Tennessee" the secrets get lumped into "Appalachian Folk Magic" and people discoursing appropriation tend to suggest by implication that "Appalachian Folk Magic" is thus a distinct "open" tradition, and that every named tradition (it refers to) is "closed".

That's really a dangerous and knee-jerk skeered sort of oversimplification. Most are "closed" in the sense of being isolated and handled with a sense of reverence and secrecy, but when an appalachian person teaches you to whisper the fire from a burn, it's understood that you will carry it on.

"Appalachian Folk Magic" is not a tradition. It's a generalization for data from some tradition without metadata referring to which. In an angry sense, it's bastardization. In an acedemic sense, it's a loose identification that might refer to many traditions and which one exactly depends on the metadata.

If someone teaches you something, it matters more that you remember the familial origin for it. I. E. "My germanic/scots-irish grandmother from Eastern Tennesee" or etc.

This information can make it a lot easier to determine the actual original tradition the working belongs to, by comparison of locale, approximate era, and rationale of the working. I.E. Uncle Billy who walked to the crossroads to see the man in black is going to have different conceptions of what he's doing than Aunty Jen who was a devout Christian healer with The Gifted Knowing, and It's a weee bit disrespectful to call Aunt Jens charms "witchcraft" when Jen herself, rest her soul, would never ever call it that, you feel me?

Understanding the relation between the worker and the work is key to figuring out which strand of people originated it, but that's never really the point of sharing it in appalachia, because we'll probably tell you where it came from to the best of our knowledge. The idea of cultural appropriation really isn't a thing we think about because usually, we're sharing stories about peoples loved ones. About what it was they did and where it came from and how they understood it. Disseminating that information wholly and completely is almost in itself an act of ancestral worship for us, an act of committed remembrance for our dead.

That information is usually given under the understanding that it will be remembered and not torn up go in someone elses arsenal under another name. That would be appropriation. And a dick move.

Secrets are heirlooms.

If I gave you my dead grandfathers wrist watch, you would remember it was his when you wore it. You should have the same kind of reverence in your head for spooky secrets. Cuz they are way more valuable than wristwatches and most of us take our ancestors and their workings very seriously.

If an appalachian person teaches you something, it's either because we love you, or we loved Aunty Jen and Uncle Billy, or you have a problem we know how to solve.

Moreover, if you had to blackjack someone against the head with Uncle Billy's wristwatch - you'd be grateful to Uncle Billy for it, wouldn't you?

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Got my hands on an old camera, I feel so powerful. (featuring highlights from my bedroom :3 )