#i love him your honor !!!!!

[fullconcentratedpowerofthesun]

Mmmmmmmm water

just a lil guy learning to swim!

[laura1633]

I always think it's odd whenever someone says they think Max will become one of the greatest of all times. He already is.

He has four championships which in itself is impressive but that doesn't tell anywhere near the whole story. When you look at the records he holds you see just how impressive he is. It's these records that show how insanely talented he is.

Most race wins in a season. Most consecutive wins. Most consecutive pole positions (jointly held record). Youngest race winner. Most consecutive days leading a championship. That is some crazy consistency.

And there are plenty more records.

Look at his win percentage, look at the last time he finished outside the points, look at the fact that as soon as he had a car capable of winning a championship he did so.

Yes he had the fastest car in 2023 but other drivers have also had dominant cars. Look at what he did. He destroyed everyone. That is what it looks like when you drag the absolute maximum out of an already great car. It's insane. He was almost too good that year because it made people write it off as 'just the car' when it wasn't. Yes if you give a great driver a great car then can win a championship but can they do it quite like Max did in 2023!

And then he somehow managed to be even more impressive in 2024!

[my-jokes-are-my-armour]

New Joey reaction expression unlocked 😋

[bucky-obsessed]

I just remembered the first time I saw Bucky in anything was the post credits scene in black panther, little did I know he would become my favorite and I'd be obsessed with him! :)

[luinen-bluewater]

Slutty, slutty Væril my beloved A (late) birthday gift for my friend @karkyna

[raptor-claw]

someone sedate this man.

[punklovrgirl23]

He’s so beautiful 😍🥰😍🥰

Bret close-ups, y’all are so so so loved

[lucdoodle]

drew my boi !!

[theorist-fox]

Some more insecure Simon Riley talk, because he's precious.

18+

Word count: 1.4k

CW: nothing, just smut. Simon finds you in lingerie and has a stroke. I love him your honor.

Masterlist 🦊

Simon, who is not sure what to do with himself the first time you welcome him home in nothing but lingerie.

He’s so unbelievably tired, dropping his clothes on the floor of the bedroom without even lifting his head. Mumbling apologies to you—how he’ll clean tomorrow, how he just wants to go to bed and sleep fourteen hours straight, right now. Bonus points if you hold him through the night, too.

Yet you’re not replying, but he’s seen your silhouette in the darkness; he knows you’re awake because you whispered a soft “Welcome back” when he walked in the room. His heart pounds in his chest, his palms get clammy—he thinks he’s overstepping lines by not giving you the attention he thinks you deserve.

So, as he unzips his pants, he lifts his eyes to look at you, and fuck—

You’re lying on your side, propped on your elbow, chin tucked in your palm. Perfect tits covered in sheer fabric, burgundy and black, your nipples peeking through. The soft line of your waist is bare—he follows it with his eyes until they land on your hips. Ornated lace curves around your hipbone and thins into see-through, dark fabric over your mound. Two strips of silk clasp your knickers to a pair of thin stockings that cinch the fat of your thighs, and the sight makes his mouth water.

“Welcome back,” you say once again, this time with soft amusement.

He looks like a proper idiot. Hand still on his crotch, practically feeling how his cock comes to a stand at the mere sight of you.

He gulps. Feels a little lightheaded. “F’ me?”

You smile, chuckling softly but not derisively. Simon follows your hand as you guide it over your belly, up to the valley of your breast, as if you’re there, showing the goods he can pick and taste.

“For you.”

Simon is stunned into silence again.

Fuck is he supposed to do, uh? He’d be content just looking at you lying there and looking like you came out of a magazine, instead of touching you and potentially ruining what you did just for—for him?

He must not have noticed how his whole body (aside from his cock) has gone into standby—entered sniper mode. He's quiet, breaths reduced and silent, eyes attentive and narrowed.

It's a handful of seconds that leave you uncomfortable, as your plastic pose softens, your smile faltering at the corners.

“You don’t like it?” You ask, trying to sound steady, but he picks up the nervousness in your tone right away.

He won’t let you have it, obviously. He snaps out of it and takes you in for what you are: a fucking present, on his bed, wrapped in strings and bows and lace like gift wrap.

“Shoulda guessed it was too much, maybe. Should’ve gone for somethin’ soft—"

Simon is on you in seconds. Grabs your face in his hands and smashes his lips to yours something fierce, nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. No hesitation. Simple, tangible desire. Scorching lust. Want. Need—fuck, he’s never kissed you like this.

Your eyes lose their surprise, and they slowly surrender to him—hands wandering down to help him out of his pants and briefs. And then you wrap your arms around his neck, grazing his scalp with your nails until he shivers.

Simon thought there was nothing comparable to the softness of your skin against the harder patches of scars freckling his abdomen. But he’s proved wrong when he feels the rough texture of your lace scratch his chest and his hips—it has him leaking embarrassingly quick.

He’s all lips and tongue as he races down your chest, sloppy kisses leaving a burning trail between your tits, down your belly, settling on your cunt covered by thin mesh.

Simon looks up at you, holding your thighs between thick fingers, smushing them against his cheeks. His eyes are hooded, dark, different. He tilts his head and bites into the plump flesh within reach—not enough to hurt, but sure enough to taste. Mercifully passes his tongue over the teeth marks before biting into it again, until the sting has you arching your back off the bed.

And he never breaks eye contact, which leaves you dumbfounded and flustered to the bone—because where is this confidence coming from? You’re wide-eyed and biting your own teeth in anticipation—this is all new and all the more exciting.

His kisses travel from the lines of your stretch marks up to your sex, where he doesn’t even bother moving the gusset of your knickers, and he just dives in.

Tongue flat against your cunt, drenching the sheer fabric with his spit and your moisture. Your moans are so soft compared to the sloppy mess he’s making of you down there, his insecurity blessed by a sort of beginner’s luck. Or maybe he’s just that��hungry, and that is enough for your cunt flutter around nothing anyway.

You’re speechless when he finally lifts himself up, slotting his hips between your kiss-bitten thighs. His cock lands heavy on your pelvis, painting your lower belly with speckles of sheer precum. Head swollen and red right above your belly button.

You look at him wide-eyed, on your back, stock-still—anticipating his next move with your heart rate spiking.

He takes you completely by surprise (once again? In one night? Who is this man?), when he moves your knickers to the side, and instead of plunging in, he slides his cock between your folds and snaps the lace back above it. And then he starts rutting in shameless abandon, holding you steady by your thighs, letting the sheer fabric of your panties cover his tip and half of his shaft, as he runs himself back and forth over the surface of your pussy.

“M’gonna ruin it, sorry.” He croaks, as one of his hands comes to clumsily grab your tits through the lace. “So fuckin’ pretty—fuck—bloody hell, you—”

You coax him to go on with breathless moans because he’s never looked more breathtaking than he does now. Tiny drops of sweat drip from his forehead onto your belly, cheeks flushed and long lashes fanning his cheekbones. His lips yield a grunt each time the lace scratches his shaft. Your breath hitches each time the head of his cock catches your clit.

“Gonna buy ya a new one, yeah?” He grunts, looking down at the wet patch his cock is making through the lace. “Gonna buy ya fuckin’ ten.”

He’s never been this vocal, and you don’t dare to mouth a whisper in case he catches himself in the act. Not even when you cum, a short and stinging orgasm that makes your clit burn at the friction, do you dare to moan. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, neck corded in the strain to keep it in, flushing with warmth in unbearable silence.

You think you hear his voice crack through the cotton in your ears when you come back down from your high. “Fuck—God, fuck. Wha’ a gift, eh? F’ me. All f’me.”

He pulls back a few moments later, taking his cock out of your panties and into a thick hand. A few pumps, and he cums on your lace, painting your belly and your cunt in glistening white.

He’s panting as his hand languidly comes to a halt. Chest flushed and with a thin layer of sweat over it.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, clearly dizzy—as if he needs to apologize for this. “I ruined it. I—just—gonna go grab somethin’ to—to clean y'up, wait 'ere—Jesus Christ.”

He slowly comes to stand, knees popping and legs shaking as he stumbles to the bathroom.

You look down at the spurts of cum covering your stomach and staining the lace of your panties, and then you flop your head back onto the mattress, wide eyes locked to the ceiling.

A chuckle of disbelief escapes you, still in shock from the sudden switch in behavior. And you think, when he comes back with a towel to clean the mess he’s made on your skin, that you might have to take another trip to the shop this weekend—buy yourself a new little piece.

But later, then, he falls asleep with his head on your chest, fingers lazily toying with the lace of your bra (because he’s asked you to keep it on, you know—“Like how 't feels”), and so you move up your shopping a little—already on your phone, running your thumb to skim through pinks and blues, laces and silks.

You might just order a new one right now.

It’s at that moment that he shifts in his sleep, slipping his hand under the band of your lacy bra and curling his fingers around your breast.

You change your mind.

You might just order ten.

[dekariosclan]

Reactions to Astarion’s siblings attacking the camp

— — —

Everyone: Thank goodness we’re okay and that’s over with

Gale: This should’ve been sex :(

[davrinsleftpectoral]

More than once in my Davrin play through he left my rook speechless. She makes the best face when she meets him.

Ok, there's a post going around about Rook's reaction to Lucanis' almost-kiss seen with flycam, which is amazing, BUT HEY as a Davrin romancer I still haven't seen anyone talk about Rook's reaction to Dav's first kiss, with them being totally at loss of words and bashful and yes because HOW CAN YOU MAKE ANY COHERENT THOUGHT after that. And it was exactly how I felt myself watching the scene, which makes it even more wonderful. Here, I said it.

[rosaeh]

jason todd stares at people. whether it's consciously or not.

he does stares at people to intimidate them, get them to do what he wants, and reveal what they know. even when he wears the helmet, his stares are so intense that the thugs can feel it pierce through. it scares them even more to wonder how deadly his gaze must be without it.

he stares at his siblings too, to read them, to try to figure out if they are lying to him or not. dick is always uneasy under jason's scrutinising eyes and the depths of their green. jason almost always get what he wants out of a single stare with them.

yet, when it comes to you, it's often unconsciously that he stares. he often founds himself smitten by just the sight of you. the way you look at him always get him, and he cannot help but keep staring at you as the only thing ever.

you never feel uncomfortable under his gaze, though. the green of his eyes, a colour you've learnt to know, and started to fall for the second they landed on you.

you do, however, find yourself fidgeting and squirming when he consciously stares at you. as if he could read you, -he can. you could reveal your most embarrassing secrets for that stare of his. but unlike the thugs he deals with on a daily basis, his gaze his not deadly for you, but more fond. even when he is staring to catch your -whites- lies.

lying to him. as if he didn't know you. you would deny being in need of something, and he would just stare at you, the way his brow raise indicating the lack of anger, and more showing how he doesn't quite believe you. and God knows you would cave in -you always do-, not helping the small smile on your face as you dare look into his eyes, and just admit everything to him.

and oh, how he would smile at that. to know how much he is able to read your body language ? how much he is just able to get you ? he loves it. craves it even. and he loves to know you let him get you like that. that you willingly let yourself in the open for him, that you let him see you.

but more often than not, he just stares at you for the sake of it.

[zeropro]

[spittyfishy]

My take away from Next Gen so far

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price being bitten by Kermit -

THE MUPPET SHOW (1977)

[shenyuuha]

my beloved crowe and mr skrunkly (aka regulus)!!! im very much love with him your honor id die for him