#fully not prepared

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Taco Crimes

Donnie would absolutely blow a fuse if someone ruined their books with how sacred he was to that mint condition comic, and I’m sure Mikey thinks cooking is an art. Cross either of them and it’s hell to pay!

I read a lot of book series that had been handed down to me by my siblings, but you could really tell whose they were before based on their condition. One sibling left foodstains and dog ears, another left spine breaks and ripped paperbacks, and the final would threaten my life if I so much as dented a page. Such is life with shared things

I guess you could say those books were well loved, for better or for worse lol

[mumblesplash]

(teaching my art class)

me: and what’s the number one rule when designing characters with wings? …well?

a handful of students, sighing reluctantly: no good fa-

me (interrupting them): NO good-faith attempts at realism, EVER. you want all the bird dweebs and physicists jumping ship as EARLY AS POSSIBLE so they’re not around to cinemasins your ass when you get to the cool parts of your story, and…ugh, what now, gerald

gerald (my least favorite student): why not just do some minimal research instead of-

me: listen you little shit i can and will singlehandedly tank your 4.0 gpa

[ivyinne]

I've been thinking about this theory about Riko orchestrating Jean's sexual abuse as punishment for his attraction to Kevin, because Riko is not in the habit of sharing his possessions. And while at first glance it would seem that Riko does this because it's Kevin... looking deeper I get the feeling that his attitude extends to the rest of the Perfect Court too.

Consider Andrew.

Riko sets first Drake and then Proust on Andrew, and the implication is that Andrew cannot get away with "taking Riko's things." This obviously refers to Kevin, but I don't think it refers to Kevin alone. It's significant that Riko brings it up with Neil and Neil only, and it happens during this specific conversation.

Riko uses Andrew to taunt and intimidate Neil, immediately after Neil implies that Riko is not the only thing saving him from his father. We come to understand several things in the course of this conversation:

That Riko considers Andrew to be responsible for Neil's continued refusal to return to his place among the Ravens.

That he believes threatening Andrew's safety will be enough to convince Neil to come to Evermore.

Which means that Riko obviously has an inkling of what Andrew and Neil mean to each other (even if Neil does not yet). He weaponizes this knowledge against both of them, and while Neil ends up going to Evermore, it does not mean that Riko lets Andrew get away.

That's because he never intended to. When Riko refers to Andrew as the miniature one with the disgusting attitude who thinks he can take my things, his "things" refer not merely to Kevin but, to a heavy extent, also to Neil, and he punishes Andrew for his closeness to Neil the same way he punished Jean's closeness to Kevin.

Why am I bringing this up? Well, quite simply put, it's all because of the as-yet unexplained January incident that Jean brings up in The Sunshine Court.

We know that following Neil's departure from the Nest, Zane betrayed Jean by setting Grayson on him. What we don't know is what Riko did to Zane and Grayson afterwards, or why.

Jean brings it up several times, but only refers to it obliquely, and doesn't give us any details:

I don't think Riko cares about what happened to Jean, of course not. But it makes too much sense to me that he decided what Zane and Grayson did was an insult to him, Riko, because how dare they touch his property when he hasn't permitted it? How dare they take his things? How dare Grayson pretend he has some sort of claim to Jean?

I'm throwing this theory out because I have nothing to lose: whatever Riko did to Zane and Grayson was in retaliation to what they did to Jean, but not because Riko cares. He did so only because Jean was another one of Riko's things, and those who take his things away must be reminded of their place.

So, yes, I think all of this is an extension of the fact that Riko has an unhealthy obsession with the people he considers to be his pets or his property. Transgressions against his claim over them deserve to be punished for the insult.

Even if those transgressions are committed by the Perfect Court itself. Riko plays the part of the jealously possessive master, the one they should all devote themselves to, the only one with authority over them. No one else can have them — which means they cannot have each other either.

[stevebabey]

Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.

Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.

But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.

Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.

It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.

It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.

She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.

Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.

It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.

He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.

Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.

So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.

He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.

Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.

Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—

“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.

“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.

Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.

“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”

“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”

God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.

“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”

There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.

“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”

He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.

Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.

“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.

“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.

That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.

“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.

“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”

He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.

“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.

“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”

In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.

Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”

Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.

“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”

“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.

If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.

“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”

Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.

“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.

Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.

“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.

“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.

So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.

It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.

now with a part two!

[fishslappping]

the boy is back in town!!!!

[mydetheturk]

they've known each other for half a chapter and they're already standing back to back! nightow what fresh hell is this!!!

[brennan-lee-mother]

I've seen some people connect coach Daybreak and Buddy dawn because their last names are similar and guys... is it possible the people who have revered a sun god for centuries just have a lot of family names related to the sun?

[egophiliac]

So how’s ride kamens going for you as I just pulled my self together long enough to read the other half of the current main story

I've been working on catching up on the event stories since they announced the upcoming main story update! (I totally bombed the last few events...they're so fast-paced and I just didn't have time...😭)

and then of course they went and dropped THIS on us today

(you don't understand, I LOVE Tajador and I already love the two blurry frames they've given us of non-silhouetted Kelka, I'm ready to absolutely lose my shit come the announcement/reveal(?) stream on Thursday --)

[ivysoul]

me when i’m the first person to request a lil carlos fic from youuu 😁 here’s what i’m thinking.

carlos is a pussy eating god. literally would stay between your thighs for hours, and he has. reader starts feeling bad, feeling like she doesn’t give him the proper gratitude he deserves for taking care of her all the time. so she’s determined to give him the most toe curling, sheet gripping, life altering head imaginable, not letting up until she feels like he’s had enough.

tl/dr: reader gives carlos the head of his lifetime, practically overstimulating him ^^ (i hope this made sense.)

𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 masterlists

pairings carlos oliveira x fem!reader

summary since the beginning of the relationship, carlos has spent majority of his time in between your thighs, bringing you to the stars. now it’s time to return the favour and increase it tenfold than what you were doing before.

warnings most sheet gripping oral i’ve ever written (m), praise, reader calls carlos good boy like once, overstim, two orgasms. nothin too crazy !! (carlos also calls the reader mama a lot don’t talk abt it i literally can’t stop.) not proof read don’t come for me.

notes me when you me when venus me when when when

“What’s gotten into you?”

It was right of Carlos to be suspicious of you when you all but jumped on him the moment he walked in the door. Your hands ventured across his body, giving his large biceps a few firm squeezes before going to wrap around his neck. And the kisses were passionate (as always), but needy. So incredibly needy.

You were never this visibly antsy, you were always able to tone it down even if all you wanted was Carlos. But he was gone for almost two weeks and you found yourself missing his company and feeling incredibly lonely.

“What, a woman can’t miss her boyfriend now?”

Your fingers looped into the waistband of his pants, but not venturing too low. However Carlos, having spent too fucking long away from you, felt his body react before his brain could catch up. His t-shirt made him feel too hot and clammy and he needed to get it off. Preferably in the bedroom. With you.

“You’re acting like I was gone for such a long time, sweetheart,” even he didn’t believe the words entirely himself, because it was a long time. Any amount of time away from you is a long time to him.

You didn’t respond, figuring your actions would speak for themselves. So, you dragged him by his belt loops to the bedroom and took his clothes off for him one piece at a time.

Carlos smiled down at you but furrowed his eyebrows. “Y’know, I was gonna take a shower. I would assume that’d be more hygienic before we do this.”

You chuckled lightly. “You could roll around in cow shit and I would still wanna fuck you,” he stared at you. “Okay maybe that’s a bit of a stretch but you get the point. A bit of dirt never scared me.”

He rolled his eyes playfully as you pushed him onto the bed, crawling your way over to him. You sat hovered over his half hard cock, reattaching your lips to his and tugging roughly at his hair. The action caused for him to moan into your mouth and squeeze his arms around your body tightly.

Your gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. “Missed you so much, baby,” you pulled away to say, a bit breathless.

“I missed you, too, honey,” he smiled at you lovingly. He’ll never get tired of looking at you. “Want me to make you feel good?”

You almost nodded, too into the routine of him coming back and finding home in between your thighs. But instead, you shook your head, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to hold back a grin from looking at his confused expression.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause it’s your turn.”

Those words alone caused his cock to reach a full erection.

You didn’t give him head often, he always insisted on the fact that your pleasure came before his. Plus, in his eyes, if he got to have sex with you, it was enough. He got most of his pleasure from giving you yours, and he didn’t have a problem with that one bit. But you did, for the most part.

So when you did suck him off, you made sure it always topped the last occasion. This time was no different.

You started placing kisses on his neck, making your way down to his collarbones, leaving little lovebites on his skin. It looked like a trail going from his collarbones to behind his ear and it made you giggle, which in turn made Carlos giggle.

Though his laughing stopped when your brushed your thumb across the tip of his cock. The laugh trailed off into a whine, and it made you smirk.

Your lips are at his v-line now and your free hand is tangling in his happy trail. Your kisses are sloppy and wet, and when you lean back to look at his cock, you audibly moan at the sight.

The tip was an angry red colour and leaking pre-cum. And god, you didn’t even know he could get this hard. “So pretty, baby. Your cock is so, so pretty.”

Carlos didn’t expect you to take his entire length down your throat in one go, but here you were. You gagged when he hit the back of your throat, tears immediately accumulating in your eyes, but you kept going when Carlos let out a throaty moan. The sound made your clit throb.

“Holy fuck,” his voice was strained. You freed his cock from your mouth and trailed your tongue up a prominent vein, circling around his tip when you made it to the end of the vein. You pumped his cock with your hand, relishing in the way he was so needy for your touch.

Then, you ducked up head down and took one of his balls into your mouth, sucking and kissing at it as he groaned. His fingers laced through your hair, trying his best to keep it at light tugs, but he found it harder and harder as time went on. “Shit, mama. So fuckin’ good at this.”

You squeezed around his tip and hummed in appreciation, which of course, only made him whine. Moving to his cock once again, you took him into your warm mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down agonizingly slow.

Carlos tried—he really did—to keep his self control, but every ounce of it was lost to you. His hips suddenly bucked up into your mouth and made you gag, not that either of you were complaining whatsoever.

You sped up your pace now, leaving Carlos a moaning and whining mess. Moans of your name repeatedly leaving his lips. He looked so pretty like this. Hair disheveled, lips swollen and wet from the previous kissing and him biting down on them. The pleasure he was feeling in this moment was intense. He hasn’t felt like this in a while. His head was spinning and his abs were tense. He felt like a fucking teenager with how badly he needed you.

“Mama—‘M so close. Fuck, fuck,” his fingers tangled in your hair and tugged harder than he meant to, but it caused for you to moan around his cock, which sent vibrations of pleasure directly through it. “Uhng! Sh-hit…”

You moved one of your hands from his thigh to his balls and cupped them, groping them firmly, just how you know he likes it. So it was no surprise when he felt his orgasm approach way too quickly for his liking.

You lifted your mouth from him, a thick string of saliva connecting you to his tip. With a hand moving up and down his cock in fast motions and the other on his balls, you looked up to him through your lashes, wet with tears. “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum down my throat?”

“Fuck yes, mama. Gonna fuckin’ cum. Needa cum so bad. Please,” you always loved it when he begged. So how on earth could you possibly tell him no?

And he came when you resumed your actions. He released a noise that sounded like a mix of a moan and groan as he came down your throat, shooting hot, white ropes of cum. You swallowed every bit that he gave you without once lifting your head. And then continued.

If he was gonna spend hours on end with his mouth on you, you were gonna spend some time with your mouth on him. Despite his overstimulated state and his whines for you to lay off.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit!”

His sounds were like music to your ears that wanted to bottle up and keep to yourself. Unlike his usual deeper voice, his voice now was higher pitched. You loved it when he got like this.

The pain mixed with the pleasure made him see literal stars. His chest was heaving and his ears were ringing, but god did he love it. “M-Mama—oh f-fuck! Can’t. Can’t.”

You squeezed his thigh assuringly, letting him know that he could get through this. Besides, you weren’t sure you quite payed back the favour yet. You could tell he was getting close again, by the way his hands were getting more and more restless and the way his cock twitched in your mouth.

And then he was cumming inside your mouth a second time. Unlike last time, you lifted off of him to swallow, deciding to give your throat a small break before you went at it again. You could definitely see why he loved to eat you out for so long.

You beamed at him, smiling sweetly and rubbing his thighs soothingly. “You did so good f’r me, my love. Such a good boy, yeah?” Your voice was hoarse and your throat burned a bit, but quite frankly, you didn’t care one bit.

He looked down at you with low lidded eyes and smiled weakly. “Yeah. ‘M good f’r you, mama. Love you so much.”

“I love you too, hon,” you manoeuvred your way up to straddle his hips again and kissed him deeply, and he moaned at the taste of himself on your tongue. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

[imogenkol]

love what the acolyte does with “good intentions” because with all the discourse surrounding the Jedi taking children from their families, it’s seen as very black and white. This episode did a fantastic job showing how the Jedi are fundamentally good, but even good intentions can cause someone to lose their way. Sol genuinely believed he was doing what was right, but that was to a fault and those intentions blinded him and gave him severe tunnel vision. The Jedi had no business interfering with a culture without even trying to understand it. The Jedi and their sense of moral duty becomes this thick impenetrable wall, much to the detriment of others. Ultimately it got away from everyone and ended in chaos and tragedy.

[apoloniaspiegelgold]

Five Hargreeves | Number Five

“Do you know why I wanted this last jump to work so badly?” “Because you’re old and tired?” “Because I slaughtered a boardroom full of people to buy our way back here. Little advice from someone who’s been there? Don’t do the math. That equation does not exist. There’s no ‘save five Harlans for every two Claires’ formula. People like us, we will never save enough lives to make up for the ones that we take. [...] This is the price of being powerful. Sometimes we step on ants.”

[pharawee]

"I don't want to carry the chairs anymore. I want to carry you."

[theofficialnbp]

May or may not have set up a macro to boop my sister every 5-ish seconds

[crabussy]

hes so girls. I love you wander

[slingbats]

🏳️‍🌈 based on several old photos of gerard way

[ishouldbeoverfanficsbynow]