POV: you're Sokka and you're desperately trying to get to know the cute emo linecook from the restaurant next door but whenever he's on smokebreak his greasy stoner boyfriend is also there.
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HAPPY APRIL 1st, i wrote a fic about the suez canal fiasco bc it's still the funniest thing that's ever happened. synopsis is "grumpy gods from different mythologies argue over whose job it is to unstick the goddamn boat"
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Went from being totally lost as a teenager to finding solace in aesthetics and fitting urself into a template in my late teens and now I think I struck a healthy intermediate where I know who I am as a person generally but I’m also completely subscribed to the idea of evolving and would never deny trying something just bc it doesn’t fit the image of myself I crafted in my head
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Your gasp caught in your throat as he pressed against you harder.
And god—god help you but fuck. Oh fuck—
You felt self-restraint in tight muscles, felt raw desire as hands grasped, palmed, and caressed your hips and ass. His huff of frustration kissed the crook of your neck and you could only let out a throaty laugh in response.
Oh, but the feel of his dick pressed against you...
My god.
You both were falling apart at the seams but YOU, you damn tease, you goddamn craving, his fucking obsession, YOU—
You fucking goad him. You beg him. And fuck if it doesn't sound like sweet music to his ears.
"Baby... Darling," you whisper, primal urge coating the air, "Fuck me."
He says nothing.
But a visceral snarl, flowing through your body like electric currents, told you everything you needed to know.
He's gonna deliver.
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@fly-sky-high-09 considering he doesnt know how to shoot a bow properly at the beginning at the game i cant imagine hed be the most receptive student lol
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Doodles based on a headcanon shared by @thesunpapaya on twitter!
Set in WW2, Panchito becomes part of the Mexican air force and soon befriends feisty pilot Della and her sailor brother Donald.
Donald had already met José while briefly stationed in Rio (Saludos Amigos). They later meet again by chance after José scampers off to the US to try his luck with a musical career and surely NOT because he is avoiding the Brazilian army draft...
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Call me old fashioned but when I see suffering alongside those who are not suffering (in the same way at least), my first thought is not to drag down those who are happy so they can experience suffering themselves, but to instead try and work out how those suffering can be raised up so everyone is living happily and peacefully.
And if to stop one group suffering, I must instead pass that pain onto others, I simply don't make a decision about who I executively decide to be mose deserving of suffering but instead put in the effort to find another way
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i've never been pregnant before, so maybe my maternity math isn't mathing, but i feel like penelope should've been at the very tail end of her pregnancy and suddenly popped right there in the featherington drawing room cause i'd kill to get the reactions of every single person in that full house after she suddenly grabs her stomach in pain like, "i think it's time".
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Velvety walls embrace him and oh fuck—
FuckFuckFuckFuckFuck.
His body tenses against the onslaught of pleasure, tenses as he resists the primal urge to let loose and fuck you without abandon.
Goddamn. Do you know what you do to him, baby? Could you ever understand how deeply you make him feel?
If you didn't then, you do now.
He feels so good pressed against you, sheathed inside you, heartbeat strong, and the sweet tang of sex in the air.
You gasp as he bites down on your shoulder, marking you.
Claiming you.
Making you his. And his alone.
You whimper and push back against him. You plead and gasp and grind against him.
He hears you. He'll always hear you, baby.
A feral growl rips itself from his throat and he snaps his hips, fucking you to Heaven and back, claiming you without a care in the world.
And you'll never belong to anyone else...
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