#i can’t stop rereading it

[goldenroutledge]

EM THIS IS HEAVENLYYY 😍😍😍😍

smutty mechanic!daniel ricciardo drabble ⋆˙⟡

smutty mechanic daniel under the cut, as me and @thef1diary have been losing our minds and this.. just spiralled. expect a full-fledged fic of this sometime next month. and of course— minors dni.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he pants into your ear, each word punctuated by his thrusts. “anyone could walk in here— watching me pound right into you, over someone else’s car. desperate and whining for me,” he teases you in a low whisper, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he pulls you back to meet his movements.

a low chuckle escapes his lips at your reaction to his words. “you like that, don’t you? knowing you’re doing something so wrong out in public.. such a bad girl, letting me fuck you on some random car.. like you belong to me.”

his bare chest is glistening with sweat, pressed up against your back. the hairs on his chest rub against your soft skin and it just adds to the pleasure. “tell me how good i feel inside you, sweetheart,” he asks you, his voice is deep yet quiet; his accent stronger than ever. “don’t hold back. let them hear how much you need me.”

daniel’s grip tightened on you, calloused fingertips leaving imprints on your skin as he set his relentless pace. his movements were rough but calculated, each thrust with the intention of electing a reaction from you— moans that escape involuntarily, your body betraying your restraint. he leaned in even closer, lips brushing against your ear as he groaned your name.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he murmured with a smirk, his breathing shallow as he pushed deeper. “bent over this car like it’s your own.. like we’re at your place.. letting me have you any way i want.” his tone was filled with possession, almost as if claiming you in every sense of the word. “is this what you wanted, sweetheart? to be fucked and degraded where anyone could walk in? i’d love to call you my good girl,” he started, biting your earlobe— drawing another moan from you— before continuing. “but we know that’s far from the truth, hm?”

one of his hands moved from his hips to your lower back, pressing you down firmly in place as he continued to quicken his thrusts. his other hand slid up your front, rough fingers slowly dragging across your breasts and peaked nipples, before landing at its destination— your throat. his fingers slightly tightened around it, not too tight of course, but enough so there was slight pressure, which you enjoyed.

the pressure of his large hand around your throat went right to your core, and you felt how harshly it was throbbing. his fingers curled firmly, holding you steady by the throat and still pushing down on your back, and the pace became almost punishing. the weight of his body, the smell of motor oil mixed with the hint of cologne— it was overwhelming, and it made you dizzy with need.

the growl that escaped him sent shivers down your spine, and a whimper fell from your lips. “look at you,” he taunted, licking his lips as he admired the sight. “gasping and whining like you can’t get enough.. such pretty sounds coming from you. do you have any idea how fucking got you look right now? taking everything i give you..” he trailed off, grunting as he continued to fuck into you. “being so obedient for me, hm?”

[nartothelar]

i have a disease

[anna-scribbles]

cant watch the show yet but i CAN draw las vegas illegal animal truck percabeth

[marshmallowcat666]

I’m currently hyperfixated rereading Ftfo and can barely do any drawing but I’m trying!!! ‘^’ Designs are easier to draw for some reason so might see only those for a bit T-T

anyways have my version of Lord Lunar’s Gemini! They get fun new outfits!!!

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[ickypuppi3]

# s1 steve x billy can be something so personal

[yoursincalendricalheresy]

- you are mercymorn the first and you are attending the funeral of one of the only people in the entire wretched universe who will ever understand you

- And what’s the fucking point. What are a few stuttering hours when the last 10,000 years have been one long funerary march, one long drawn out scream stretched across time and space forever and forever

- Haven’t you, haven’t all of you (all but one) spent the last myriad making yourself a monument to the worst thing that you have ever done (the worst thing that was ever done to you)?

- What point is a rose blown bower when the four three of you are already walking tombs

- You are mercymorn the first and you are the second saint to serve the king undying and you have committed atrocities for his command and you love him because what else is left

- You are the second saint to serve the king undying and you have watched the rest slowly dwindle away to the first of you and there are two children clinging to your robes as if they belong and you hate them for making themselves what you were made to be and not even understanding (later you will hate one of them for doing what you could not and making a prison of herself instead of a mausoleum)

- You are Mercymorn Crystabel and you are staring into the eyes that you didn’t know were your best friend’s and everything changes

- You are the Saint of Joy and for ten thousand years you have lived in grief and in anger and you have come to the end and if you can just finish it maybe you can rest. Maybe it will have been worth it and your bones can rest easy at last

- You are Mercy and you have loved him for ten thousand years. You were made in his image to love him and he is your god and your best friend and he lied to you (there were other lies once that you can almost remember, but that was before you were)

- You were M— and

[oneeyedmagi]

'Awkward wedding photo of two dorks, London. Photographer unknown.' (Kitty denies it, but that was her)

Well, ahem, I drew this about two years ago but I still like it lol :"D

I used a reference photo from pinterest (under the cut)

[sugarcub]

Most misunderstood character in all of TBHK

[whynotlol9]

Day 5 Hush for @revalinkweek

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

romeo and juliet jercy au when?????

[vulpinesaint]

the treasured girlboss and failboy dynamic that goes so often underutilized. dandelion’s weak poet’s constitution vs. yennefer’s quite literal unequivocal slay

[antaripirate]

Kell and Lila: in their own little world, having a soft moment after Lila gets her Antari eye and looks so happy.

Alucard:

alternatively…

Rhy and Alucard: having their own moment on the floor of the Night Spire after Osaron tried to take Alucard.

Kell:

[unshatters-your-teacup]

I can’t stop thinking about how so much of The Hunger Games revolves around food. It’s implied in the name of The Games, in the Cornucopia, and in the “feasts” within the Arena. There’s the whole tessarae system where in exchange for food you increase your odds of getting chosen in the Reaping. Katniss’s whole life in District 12 revolves around food, how to get it, how much to trade, how to cook it, and how to make sure Prim doesn’t starve again. She meets Gale because they’re both hunting for food. Her main interaction with Peeta before The Games is because he gave her food. In the Capitol, 90% of the descriptions of wealth and excess involve the food they’re eating. Almost all of the strategy meetings with Effie and Haymitch are around meals. The Gamemakers are eating while they evaluate the Tributes. Katniss is constantly describing the Careers in terms of how well-fed they look. Even in the Arena, Katniss’s main concern is food. She’s always eating, or hunting, or cooking, or rationing the food. At least half of the gifts that Haymitch sends her are food (the bread, the soup, the lamb stew). Her main offensive strategy against the Careers is taking out their food supply. The Games only end when Katniss and Peeta almost EAT poisonous berries.

[wolke17]

Holy shit, that was such a goood fight!

back then, when I was reading these chapters for the first time, I had little understanding of the power system and the characters’ cursed techniques. I never bothered to look up explanations for them either and admittedly didn’t pay much attention to the actual fight and surprise, surprise. many decisions seemed unclear and arbitrary to me.

But rereading the manga and taking my time to engage with the explanations made it so much more fun? I could follow the fight almost with ease and looked forward to sukugo’s witty moves and counters. Honestly, it made me appreciate both the battle and sukuna and gojo as characters so much more.

I know the outcome was controversial, but after going through the entire fight and reevaluating everything, I think sukuna deserved that win.

either way, they are both extremely smart and innovative fighters. I loved the small sukugo moments in between and gojo died happily and reunited with his friends at the end. I think that’s all that matters :)

[msh7k]

no way i got hooked back on unO right as the hiatus started wtf 😭 😭