#I’m like. in shock

[liorlenn]

just saw the new dove attia musical (moliere) and um.

[innocent-until-proven-geeky]

You know how Tumblr has those “based on your likes” posts it sometimes shoves into your dash?

I—someone who pretty clearly “likes” stuff that is anti-Harry Potter and JK Rowling—just got some Harry Potter fanart that ships him with Voldemort?

I’m sorry, WHAT about my recent or old likes could possibly make tumblr think I was into that. Wtf

[lgbtqforeverything]

genuinely feel like i could pass out rn. to be fair that’s not an unusual feeling for me but the intensity of it has significantly increased throughout the episode!!!

[chloesimaginationthings]

IDK what William Afton expected to happen in FNAF..

[philsmeatylegss]

If I were Dan and Phil I would never hard launch because it’s so embarrassing that we were right. Like what do you mean you were so in love a bunch of thirteen year old’s clocked it? I would never give that satisfaction.

[willgrahamscock]

me logging online

[aftg-and-random-things]

Just what was Andrew doing the entire time during night practices?

[pisces-swirlix]

i cannot believe i haven’t heard anyone talk about the fact that the morning after george rexstrew and jayden revri first landed in vancouver they went for a walk together and pretended to be edwin and charles on the street, acting like they were ghosts and no one else could see them

do y’all not know about this or am i just unwell

[cordycepspog]

There’s something horrifyingly beautiful about Tess’s final moments. In the midst of the most dire chaos, as she waits for her death to come rushing past so she can blow it sky high and give cordyceps a big fuck you one last time, one of the infected stops. It looks at her, really looks. Her own mortality is personified in this infected. It’s death that’s looking at her, and it sees her. She looks her own death in the eye, and the suspense is so high as it approaches. But then, it doesn’t bite her throat out like we all expect it to.

It kisses her. What’s more, it kisses her gently. And I think it was a brilliant choice on the writers part, because it reminded me that the infected aren’t supposed to be evil. Sure, they’re scary as hell, but really, they’re just trying to survive. They’re connected to one another, they can feel each other from miles away. They seek out and want to be close to their own kind, just like the human survivors do. And when they do find each other, they kiss hello.

And after so long apart from a loved one, someone you know and trust with every instinct in your body, wouldn’t you want to kiss them too?

[shima-draws]

HELLO?????

[roanniom]

I always like to hope your little drabbles might be inspired by your sweetie podcast guy 👀

Oh they kinda are inspired by him these days 👀

One for the Road

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, a whole lot of oral (f receiving)

“I like this shirt,” Eddie mumbles against your jaw, his fingers playing at the hem of your massive thrifted t shirt. You’re standing in the dappled morning sunlight warming his shitty little apartment kitchen. His hands roam your body with an urgency that belies the way he’d fucked you onto his messy sheets just thirty minutes prior.

“The day I got it I also got a Hellraiser t shirt. Huge. With a big picture of Pinhead on the chest,” you say proudly, smoothing a hand over said chest to indicate where the horror icon’s face would be. Eddie hones in on that one detail, of course, and cups your breasts through your shirt with a groan.

“Oh yeah? If it was that big did you cut the shirt up?”

You shake your head.

“No. I left it big and oversized. You know. Sexy,” you joke. Eddie nods slowly, still focusing all his attention on your tits through this particular shirt.

“Sexy. Oh yeah,” he mutters, completely distracted. He lifts the shirt slightly to reveal the feminine pair of boxers you’ve put on for your drive home. “These are fucking cute.”

“You think?” you ask, wiggling your hips cheekily.

“Yeah, I think,” mumbles against your neck before sucking on your earlobe. You go to say something else but his hand is now sliding under the waistband of your boxers. Within seconds he’s inside your panties and playing with the slick that’s gathered there.

“Eddieeee, I have to go,” you try to argue, but it turns into a gasping whine. Eddie ignores you. Or at least, he ignores your argument. He latches onto one of your nipples through your shirt and looks up at you pointedly to watch your face while he slides two fingers deep inside you. “Oh fuck…”

You don’t know how it happens. You really don’t. One minute you’d had your bag on your shoulder and you were half out the door, and in the next minute Eddie was sliding down to his knees, pushing you up against the wall at the entrance to his apartment. He pulls down your boxers and underwear before you can protest about your lateness any further, and he hooks your leg up over his shoulder before you can do more than grasp at his hair.

“Are you serious? I - oh god.”

Eddie’s mouth is on you and you should be aware of the fact that you’re moaning wantonly right by the door that leads to an inner hallway where all of his neighbors can probably hear you as they set out on their day.

Your bag starts slipping off your shoulder and the lights start flickering - he’d pushed you against the wall where the light switch is, so each time you move you find yourself clicking it on and off with your back.

“Eddie - oh. Eddie!” you try to call his attention to the awkward placement through your laughs and gasps, but he only seems vaguely annoyed by the distraction. He manhandles you over the the kitchen island and you grip at the counter, unsure what he has planned until he gets on his knees from behind you, gripping your hips and pulling your legs back apart so he can get to you with his mouth again.

“Holy fuck…” you yelp, completely overwhelmed by the stimulation. Eddie shoves two fingers deep inside of you again, thrusting and building up momentum until you find yourself forced up onto tiptoes.

You clutch at the counter and do your best to take the force of his thrusting - it feels so fucking good when he curves his fingers just like that - but you’re so overwhelmed you finally have to say something.

“Eddie. You’re making my legs shake! I can’t…” you pant.

You’re not sure what you expected him to do, but either way you’re surprised when he clambers to his feet and grabs you into his arms. Insecure and completely unused to being lifted, you let out a scream, but you’re only in the air long enough for him to deposit you onto one of the stools by the kitchen counter.

“This better for your legs?” Eddie asks, kissing your thighs while he spreads them and settles back on his knees between them.

“Yeah, I guess - Eddie!” you cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you yet again. His lips suction around your clit and he sucks. Hard. Your leg hooks over his shoulder again and your fingers thread through his hair pulling tightly as you hold on for dear life.

You don’t even have time to warn him. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You spasm around the fingers he’d some how managed to get back deep inside you at one point, and he laps you up as you rock your hips into his face. Thighs press into his ears while you ride out the feeling.

By the time your breathing has finally returned to normal, Eddie has already gotten up from the floor and started assembling your clothes and bag from where they’d been strewn about.

“You’re gonna be late for work, huh baby?” he asks, with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A massive erection stands proud in his boxers and you laugh in spite of yourself, fully breathless.

“What the fuck was that, Munson?”

He leans forward to give you a kiss

“That was one for the road.”

~*~

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Thanks for reading, please comment and reblog to let me know what you think!

[stealingyourbones]

Out of all of the people The Ghost King Phantom expected to relate to, it definitely wasn’t the scrawny red headed photographer of the Daily Planet. Jimmy Olsen has gotten so many temporary superpowers over his time being Superman’s friend. Hell, he once gained a 4th dimensional being’s reality warping abilities when he was given said dimensional being’s powers during a fight. Sure there’s a dozen or so heroes with the same amount of powers he has, but none as suddenly granted to them as a all powerful god that can relate to a teenager.

[izzystizzys]

There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.

Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.

“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.

“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”

“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.

He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.

“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.

“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”

“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”

“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”

“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”

“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”

It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.

“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”

Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”

“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Vanessa definitely thought Abby died..

[bright-and-burning]

i am currently having the worst culture shock of my entire life. i feel like wren’s actually having me on. do you guys actually. not eat raw broccoli?? in the uk?????

[anthonycrowley]

i don’t mean ‘we had money’ or ‘we struggled.’ did you know (roughly, within ~$10k or local equivalent) how much your parents made?