#oh no i'm gonna cry

[cat-the-cabra-preta]

ACE VIKTOR IS CANON ⚠️⚠️THIS IS NOT A DRILL⚠️⚠️ VIKTOR IS AN ACE ICON CONFIRMED!!!!!!!

Link to the post

[pileofmush]

@tetsuskei <3

clearing out the drafts with some fluff ! one of my fave concepts :3 dividers by @/cafekitsune ꒰ WC : 400 ꒱

a crush is like a shooting star. so beautiful and bright, only to burn out in a matter of moments. and every time you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with all of your heart that this one lasts.

but loving ace was a supernova, all consuming and threatening to swallow you whole. and yet you couldn’t turn away, couldn’t even avert your eyes from him — accepting the fact that you’ll be forever blinded by him.

it was nothing short of magnetic. a moth to a flame, something that had you gravitating towards him since the day you met. a flicker of hope that burns bright between you and only grows bigger overtime — bringing you to sweet moments like right now.

ace was still lying in bed, recovering from his time away at sea and facing off whatever dangers were lurking around. he’d always return to you though, ready to bask in the warmth of your love and return it tenfold.

“you know, they say that freckles are where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you press your lips against his cheek, over and over as you try to kiss each one that intricately caresses his skin.

“i think that’s only for moles.” ace laughs, eyes fluttering shut at the attention. “or beauty marks.”

you pull back, golden light glowing over you, illuminating you like an angel sent from above that leaves ace speechless for a moment. your fingertips trace the freckles on his face, down his neck to the smattering along his collarbones.

“beauty marks?” your palm glides over his freckled shoulder. “they look beautiful to me.”

you lean down and continue your onslaught, making sure that every area was covered by your love.

“i must’ve been busy.” you hum into his warm skin, “to have left all these on your skin.”

“you were my lover in my past life?”

“of course i was.” you prop yourself back up so you’re facing him, eyes meeting his. “and i’ll be yours in the next life, and the one after that, and the one after —“

“okay, okay.” he laughs, quieting you with a chaste kiss of his own, cheeks dusting strawberry pink. “i get it.”

“do you?” you tilt your head, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “because—”

“i do, angel.” he flips you over so you’re laying under him, quickly tossing you a boyish grin before ducking his head down to pepper kisses along your collarbone. “so i need to leave some more of my own, don’t i?”

[modmad]

LADS IM FREAKING OUT my dear friend @cartoon-kitsune sent me a present and I was literally wearing this outfit when BAM. POPPY.

WE MATCH??? THE HAIR AS WELL this was not planned I can't. I can't believe how gorgeous she is or how funny it is that I'm literally the same colours rn THANK YOU SO MUCH KIT ;A;

also...

SHE BIG

[trashmammal-7]

What if I sobbed, huh? What if I cried my eyes out?

[draculadrawalong]

May 11

While our friend Jonathan is doscovering horror tropes, our dear Lucy is living her best rom-com life, for now...

[idlesuperstar]

Donald was the best partner in movies I ever had. We were brothers and we loved each other. We had such a deep, sublime chemistry. There was nothing intellectual about it, just this amazing natural harmony. I first met him in the commissary at 20th Century Fox when Robert Altman told us to have lunch together after I’d been cast in M*A*S*H. At first I thought: I don’t think this guy likes me. But it was just the opposite. The thing was: we were such opposites. I’m a Jew from Brooklyn and he was a Canadian from Nova Scotia. But it was perfection: never any conflict, just bread and butter – a relationship that felt like a miracle. Making M*A*S*H made us immediately close because while everyone else was working with Bob Altman, we worked for Bob Altman. He kept us a little segregated. We were both really unsure about the improvisation, the direction of the movie and Bob’s approach in general. Donald was hired well before me, but once I signed on we had the same deal: no less than second billing, and the same money. Later in production, Richard Zanuck, who was at that time running 20th Century Fox, said they wanted to give me first billing. I thought: “Oh that’s a nice honour. But Donald is my friend! I’m not going to be opportunistic – he was here first and should have first billing and I’ll stay in second place.” That’s what Donald meant to me. I never told him about that. A few years later, I turned down the screenplay for the movie that became S*P*Y*S, about two bumbling CIA agents. Then Donald called and said: “Would you do it with me?” And I said: “Oh that’s a different story. Of course!” On the first day of shooting in London, we drove to work together and he said: “What do you think of the script?” I rolled the window down, threw it out and said: “It’s a piece of junk. The only way this will work is if we swap parts.” But the producers could not digest that, so we just did the picture. Yet we did bring some of our own ideas to the table. There wasn’t an ending, for instance - so Donald and I agreed that we would just walk up the road with our backs to the camera and sing Side By Side. We worked together and we succeeded together, but we didn’t socialise very much – though having the opportunity to develop a relationship with some of his family was a total joy. Once, Donald was making a movie in the Bahamas and I came to visit because I had a week off from making The Long Goodbye and was interested in his leading lady, Jennifer O’Neill. Kiefer, his son, was five or six and Donald introduced us. Kiefer wanted me to stay, so when I said goodbye, I said: “Kiss me, Kiefer.” He had an ice cream cone in his hand and put it on my face – he kissed me with his cone. Donald was a true human being – and not all of us are. He could identify with any of us. His presence and his nature, his life and his mind are an asset for everyone. We all come and go physically, but as a being, he was really special and unique. I don’t put anything in the past. With me, it’s all in the present. My feeling is that for as long as I am living, Donald will be with me. I have no doubt about that, and I’m not being sentimental. I can see Donald now. I will see Donald for ever.

Elliot Gould - Donald Sutherland remembered by Keira Knightley, Elliott Gould, Ralph Fiennes and more in The Guardian

[c2-eh]

Carlos' biggest fan is Rupert 🥹❤️ (x)

[sanamustdie]

"safe haven", inspired by mitski using light as her dancing partner while performing heaven.

[leedongsik]

aw noooo 😭😭😭

[arttsuka]

Based on somewhat real events

I spent way too much time drawing this...

But yeah, Ford finally saying thank you

A continuation (kinda)

[its-a-me-mango]

THROWS UP AND DIES EVERYWHERE!!!!! BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[meowkunas]

pairing: wriothesley x reader

summary: you really want to spend time with wriothesley right now.

word count: 1.1k+

warnings/tags: 18+, nsfw content (under the cut), umm praise from wriothesley??, kind of shy/insecure reader, fingering, fem/female bodied! reader, he calls you sweetheart and baby, i was gonna let him use his cuffs and then i forgot so he's extra gentle instead

a/n: i need him.

Every time you visit Wriothesley in his office, he knows it's because you're needy. You don't make the trip all the way there for no reason.

"I just missed you." You'll say, leaning against the table with a pout. It's the way you're avoiding eye contact with him and staring your shoes that gives you away. Not to mention the fact that you're standing right in front of his seat and forcing him to look at you instead of the paperwork he has on his desk.

He resists the urge to laugh. With a slow and precise movement, he leans forward so that he's meeting your gaze again. "Yeah? You just wanted to spend time with me?"

"Mhm." You feign innocence. Archons, you're even blushing.

"Still too nervous to use your words, huh?"

He watches as your shoulders tense. Guilt is written all over your features. He watches as you take a deep breath in to try to calm yourself, meeting his eyes with a flash of confidence this time. There's a rigidness in your form still though, and your mouth opens to say something. But he doesn't let you.

His hands clasp around your thighs, pushing them open so he can move forward on his seat to put himself between your legs. Before you can continue your sentence, he kisses you.

He knows you're about to apologise for something inane, like bothering him when he's clearly so busy, but he wants to remind you that he'll always make time for you. This isn't annoying for him. And it never will be. Besides, it's not like he can focus on anything while you're here.

It's a gentle kiss, and he lets himself part from you just a little before he's speaking again.

"Shh. I'll take care of you, okay?"

It's so quiet that you can hear how loud your breathing is. It's long, languid breaths at first, even as your heartbeat thuds quickly in your chest.

He's barely even touched you, and you still feel your breath hitch as he traces his fingers over your clothed pussy. You don't say anything, just letting his hands explore you and letting him squeeze and caress without complaint. He'll never tell you, but he likes holding you like this; likes knowing you're comfortable enough to let him just touch wherever. His hands never wander above your waist, and his motions slow as he tries to figure out what you're after today.

In exchange, you tentatively run your fingers through his hair. Once. Twice. And it takes you a couple seconds to realise that he's still just tracing his fingers over your thighs because he's waiting for you to ask for what you want. A small sound of frustration leaves your lips. This doesn't need to be this hard. But the soft intimacy of his hands touching you seems to add a knot in your throat. So you do the next best thing. You nudge his hand to where you actually want him to touch.

"There." A sigh of contentment leaves his lips. "That wasn't so hard, right?" And he still has the audacity to look up to you with a cheeky grin that sends your heart racing.

His fingers are gentle — pushing inside you and feeling, before they become searching, and all you can feel is a pleasure running up your legs and curling in your stomach. A breathy huff leaves your lips and that has him properly chuckling. You can't really help it if your hips jerk upwards to meet his touch a little better.

But he stills you easily.

He stands up, curving his arm around your waist and pulling you further to the edge of the table so you can't escape the way his fingers curve inside you.

"Wrio—" You moan against his ear, not entirely sure what you're asking for or what you're wanting, but wanting something nonetheless. He's quicker at thinking of it than your pleasured-muddled mind. His lips connect with yours again and you're barely able to kiss him back properly. It's all open mouthed, and a little sloppy. A warmth pulses through you as he traces his lips across your jaw forgivingly, down the side of your neck, nibbling lightly all the way. An uncontrolled whine from your throat has him huffing a laugh against your skin.

"Like this?" He mumbles, brushing his lips against your collarbones while his fingers push on a spot that has you moaning again.

A panic runs through your veins when you hear knocking at the door, and you put your hands on his shoulders, ready to stop him and scurry away. Except he's already murmuring out a reassurance against your neck before you can try.

"Shh, sweetheart. It would be a shame to end this now." He whispers casually. "They can wait." And really, with that purr in his voice, he could get you to do anything.

You let out a strained whine, trying to be quiet as he praises you, marking you with soft kisses across what bare skin he can get his mouth on. It's so easy for him to make you cum like this. And you do, with a sigh and with your eyes closed, as the knocking echoes through his office once more.

He's patient with you, tucking your shirt back over your shoulder where he pulled it down and you hadn't even noticed. His hand moves from your waist to your hair, tussling it. All while he's whispering sweet words to you.

"You okay? That was so good, baby. You were so good for telling me what you wanted, okay?"

You're barely listening, still trying to come down from the pleasure and trusting him to let him tidy up your frazzled form. Once he's finished, he kisses your forehead, sending a spark through your body. It's his way of giving you a small confidence booster as he leaves your side and walks around his desk and calling for whoever was knocking to come in. By then, he's already moved you to the more comfortable position of his chair.

Wriothesley greets whoever is behind the door with a twinkle in his eye, barely looking at whoever is speaking because he keeps taking glances at you. You're still perched all pretty on his chair, the perfect picture of attentiveness as though he didn't just finger you a few moments before. It's the small, impatient wriggle that you do on his chair that gets his full attention again. There's a look in your eyes and he knows he's not finished with you. Not yet.

He'll have to continue what he's started once this conversation is done. He did promise to take care of you after all.

[sorikuceo]

my graphic novel came in i Teared up im so serious HES SO STUPID AND SMALL AND UGLY

[ducktracy]

that news just completely tanked my mood and now i'm literally just sitting here like this forcing myself to draw funny starfish. WB give me Porky and Daffy's adoption papers WB give me custody rights WB i will pay you.

[nightowl1556]

I died.

[apollos-boyfriend]

CONNOR DONT MAKE INFLATION FETISH JOKES IN FRONT OF ELON MUSK