#thank you Jess

[pernillecfcw]

Thank you jess for everything you have given to the club 💙💙 as we always say once a blue always a blue , you will be greatly missed by us fans and will miss seeing you in blue . You are a chelsea legend and wish you all the best in your new chapter💙

[transbot-brian]

pov: irish talkng to american

[Image ID /: A screenshot from discord on mobile reading: "I've come to make an announcement: Sun-shadowscast a bitch-ass motherfucker, he pissed on my fucking heritage. That's right, he took his irish dick out and he pissed on my fucking heritage, and he said his Irishness was "THIS BIG," and I said "that's disgusting," so I'm making a callout post on my Twitter.com: Sun-shadowscast, you've got a small dick. It's the size of this walnut except WAY smaller. And guess what? Here's what my dong looks like.

[Explosion sounds] That's right, baby. All points, no catholic guilt, no pillows — look at that, it looks like two balls and a bong. He fucked my heritage, so guess what, I'm gonna fuck Ireland. That's right, this is what you get: MY SUPER LASER PISS!! Except I'm not gonna piss on Ireland, I'm gonna go higher; I'M PISSING ON THE CONTINENT OF EUROPE! How do you like that, CHARLES?! I PISSED ON EUROPE, YOU IDIOT!

You have twenty-three hours before the piss D R O P L E T S hit fucking Europe , now get outta my fucking sight, before I piss on you too!". / End ID]

[modpix-blog]

Doing soooo much math for this cordium video <3

[singlethread]

Happy Birthday! I hope it's wonderful! 🥰

💕💕💕💕💕

[chanrizard]

SKZ TALKER | Ep. 65 ⁝⁝ Bang Chan

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

I totally get you, this fic is definitely for when you need comfort from the world being too much.

Billy is definitely reining his crazy for her in. He totally knows things are super delicate and he doesn't wanna mess it up.

Objects in Motion

Part 2

Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

Part 1 here

You’re deep in sleep when a loud bang wakes you.

Bolting up with a gasp, your heart pounds in your chest for a few minutes. You’re not sure what the noise was- a door slamming shut, or maybe something falling in the apartment above you, but the echo of it in your head keeps you awake for a while, hating that your anxiety doesn’t let you sleep.

.

You go to another dry cleaners, you do your best to avoid going out. You go to work, and back home for a couple of weeks, worried that someone will find you and scold you for what you’ve done.

You think about being scolded by him, you doubt you’d be able to last a moment in his presence.

After you’d ensured the safe delivery of the coat, did you finally research the owner.

William Russo, his stoic, borderline angry expression staring back at you through your computer screen had only made you aroused all over again.

This, this was the Alpha with a scent so magnetic, you couldn’t resist it.

He was rich, a CEO, and you could only look around your threadbare apartment and sigh sadly, there was nothing you could offer him that would interest him.

So, you try to move on with your life, work hard so you can afford to buy alleviators for your next heat, and stay away from alphas that would no doubt hurt you.

The art museum was a big comfort. On a Friday evening, when it was at its emptiest, you’d go in, and stare at all the paintings. You’d study the brushstrokes till your eyes burned, items like Starry Night, and Street Light were beautiful works that always made you dare to dream of a life better than the one you were in. Today however, The Lovers was the one that kept you most occupied.

Two people, with white cloths over their heads as they lean into each other, kissing.  Hidden from each other’s sight, you wonder if the painting only holds its romance because of the seemingly anonymity of the subjects. If the mystery was removed, would there be more love, or less?

It was kind of how you felt right now, pained, searching for something that you weren’t familiar with. An alpha, to call your own.

None of the alphas you’d met had ever been right for you. There was an entitlement written into them, the belief that your station was lesser, so you were supposed to submit. Alphas constantly lived with that air of superiority surrounding them, and they were easily upset when you did not give them what they wanted. 

The alphas you dated were wrong to think that submission was something freely given, in reality, it had to be earned.

You wondered if the alpha on your mind would ask nicely.

Probably not. It was a good thing he existed only in your fantasies.

.

Your omega privilege means you get to stay a little after closing. You smile gratefully in the security guard’s direction when he comes to escort you out.

“We’ve got a new piece coming in tomorrow. You won’t be able to stay late anymore, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You smile in delight.

“Do you know which one it is?” You ask.

“Not really, not much of an art guy, but it’s a big deal, really expensive.”

You nod, enthusiastically.

“Well, I can’t wait.” You reply, wishing the beta a good night when you finally reach the exit, pulling your jacket tighter around you to protect from the cold.

.

Not for the first time in his life, he feels the loneliness. 

It’s only that he’s never felt it quite like this. Usually, people just didn’t want him, his mother gave him up when he was a baby, and he’d never really understood why. Through his life, people had assumed he’d present as a beta, because he’d been a scrawny kid. Things had only gotten worse when at ten, his alpha denomination had shown through.

Then, everyone had wanted a piece of him, an opportunity to say that they’d fought an alpha and won, uncaring of his age and size- the world had forced him to become ruthless very quickly.

He’d let the world’s rejection shape him, and he’d only realised that when he’d met Frank.

Frank had made him understand, that alphas were not supposed to be cruel, but rather the very definition of safety and security.

He'd tried his best to ignore the hollow feeling inside of him, and that had worked.

At least, it had, up until he'd smelled that stupid coat.

Now, it was like someone had taken a piece of him and ran off with it, ripped a carefully placed bandage off and left him with an open wound. He could feel the absence, like if it was a whole other person in the room.

He wanted his omega.

It was all he’d thought about now, as he pressed the coat to his nose every night, struggling to catch her fading scent, he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again when the scent fully faded.

He keeps going, maybe he even pushes himself harder, his work distracts him, helps him keep a clear head.

He’d even accepted a job to secure artwork for the museum, even though his specialty was protecting people, and Frank was usually the man that handled asset protection.

He’s following closely behind The Scream when he stops dead in his tracks.

One of his employees tosses him a confused glance, but he ignores it as he takes a deep inhale. 

He’d know that vanilla scent anywhere, the smell of apples mixed in and his heart gives an eager kick.

Surely not-

He turns his head, sees a painting of two lovers hiding from each other, kissing through a shroud of white cloth. He studies it for a moment, his mind racing at speeds he can’t fathom.

When the painting gets too far ahead, he turns and resumes his stride, thinking about all the ways he can do his best to get what he wants.

.

He gets permission to access the security footage of the museum.

Who’s really going to deny an alpha anyway?

Billy finds her, or at least the back of her head, and he can’t help the excitement that after weeks of searching, he’s managed to get lucky and obtain a lead on her.

He talks to the security guard that walked her out. With a sleepy voice over the phone, the man tells him that she’s a frequent visitor to the museum on Fridays, and she doesn’t cause any trouble so he lets her stay a little after closing.

“She just likes looking at the pieces, and I can’t be mean to an omega as shy as her.”

Billy’s mouth twitches upward, amused at the biological imprint inside everyone to protect omegas. The men who’d done her a favour to deliver his coat had said near the same thing.

It had made him fond, of a sweet girl, that would no doubt be spooked if he showed up at her home unannounced. Even if he now had the means to trace her back to her home, he couldn’t take the risk. He had to play this right.

.

When you hear Edvard Munch’s The Scream is on display, you vibrate with excitement. Instead of going the opening week, you wait till your usual time the next Friday, when hopefully there’s much less of a crowd to contend with.

It’s not completely empty, but you’re okay with the sparse crowd, you smile, tiptoeing to peek over shoulders so that you can catch a sight of it before you’re at the front.

You love everything about it, the colour and the expressionism of it, you wonder how much the paint has faded over time. The little paragraph beside the painting describes an infinite scream, a universal anxiety, and you think you can almost feel that as you stare at it, the idea that you’re being watched sending a nervous thrill down your spine.

When you move away from the painting however, the feeling lingers. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to shake the feeling, you don’t understand how a painting can have such an effect.

To clear your head, you find an impressionist nearby, Monet’s reflections of clouds on a lily pond, and you stand in front of it, letting out a long sigh.

When the distinct smell of bergamot hits you, you stiffen. 

Your heart squeezes into your throat, and you try to look around as casually as possible, betas turn to look at you as they scent your distress in the air. 

Did you feel like you were being watched- because you were actually being watched?

You take in another breath, and this time, you’re sure.

Cracked pepper, citrus- 

The alpha was here.

Someone says your name behind you, and you turn in fright.

There he was. Dressed down in casual clothes, trying to blend in with the people around him- as if an alpha as handsome as him ever could.

Billy Russo was devastatingly gorgeous up close.

But you were fucked.

Your eyes widen and you take a step back, knowing that this was definitely about stealing his coat. He would no doubt try to make you pay for cleaning- or worse yet- a new coat entirely.

Your body flushes with fear as you back away from him on shaky legs.

His head tilts as he watches you go, dark eyes caught on your retreating form.

“Don’t run, omega.” He says easily, taking a single stride as you back away, his presence looming over you, igniting something in your stomach like a match being struck.

You make a small sound in the back of your throat, and you do exactly what he says not to.

You run.

Well, not exactly.

More like a quick walk, looking back to see if he follows, you beeline for the bathroom, hoping to hide in there for a moment.

You groan, splashing your face with water, internally grumbling over what you've gotten yourself into.

You should have never grabbed that stupid coat with your stupid omega senses always searching for the right alpha. What did you think? That just because he’d had an amazing scent meant that he wanted to take care of you? 

No, he was probably going to scold you, and force you to pay him back, and you couldn’t afford three thousand for a coat. 

Your throat tightens in panic, your body flushes with fear.

You couldn’t think too much on what he would do if he caught you, all you needed to focus on right now, was getting away.

So you take a deep breath and you shed your jacket, tucking it under your arm and stepping out of the bathroom behind someone. 

There’s not a lot of people, but luckily you know the museum, and you take the most secluded paths that you doubt anyone unfamiliar to the museum would know of.

You sigh happily when you see the exit door in sight, making large meaningful steps, looking back every now and then. Behind you is empty, and you think that you might have actually lost him.

It sends a pang of sadness through you, but you shake your head to shove it away.

You look back once more when you push your way through the exit doors, making sure the path behind you is clear of any six foot alphas.

And you walk right into him.

You’re not sure it is at first, but his size and smell give it away. Your face is pressed securely to his chest, and his hands come up to grip your upper arms firmly.

You raise your head in panic, trying to wrench back from him.

“Relax omega, you’re not in any trouble, I promise.” He says, something in his voice that makes his words sound believable.

You whine in distress.

“Please, I’m sorry, I can’t afford to replace your coat. I shouldn’t have taken it.” You plead, voice wobbling with the struggle to speak under duress.

“Shh, little one, I’m not here to ask you for money.”

His words don’t register in your head, and you begin to cry. Thick swells of tears fall from the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t pay.” You struggle out in a tiny voice.

He grunts, his hands move to cup your face, your tears spilling onto his fingers instead.

“Omega.” He says meaningfully.

The command in his tone makes you look up at him, brain going quiet, the power of his voice catching your attention easily. His stern expression softens.

“I’m not here to make you pay for anything, and I promise you’re not in any trouble.”

You make a little sniffle.

“ ‘M not?” You ask weakly.

The corner of his mouth curves up.

“No, I just want to talk.” 

“Talk?” You repeat dumbly.

His thumbs trace over your cheekbones gently, a soft tingling sensation swims in your head and settles at the top of your spine. Your eyelids flutter as you watch him nod.

“I’ve been searching for you for weeks, omega, since you left me that coat drenched in your sweet scent, I haven’t had a clear thought since.”

You gulp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t be sorry just-” He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s looking for the right words, “Have dinner with me. Tonight. My treat.”

You take a deep breath, eyes widening.

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

He lets out a swift breath, you worry that you might be aggravating him.

“What aren’t you sure about? Your safety?”

You feel your heart pick up its pace beneath your ribcage, tormenting your body with the feeling of panic.

You reach up, cupping his hands in yours and peeling them off your cheeks. 

“Alphas are… notorious for getting angry when they don’t get their way.” You reply anxiously, your hands uncurling from his, filled with so much trepidation. 

“I understand, but give me a chance to prove myself. There’s something between us, omega, you just have to open yourself up to it.”

You blink, stomach flipping as you debate your options.

You eye him warily, too afraid to say no, too scared of how he would react.

You take another step back, and his face looks pained, his body tense.

You shake your head, scared, taking another cautious step away.

“Please don’t run.” He says softly, it makes you pause.

Maybe… maybe a chance wouldn’t be so bad.

“What about lunch tomorrow?” Somewhere bright and public that would make you feel safer about being around him.

He lets out a slow breath.

“Lunch is great. Where?”

You think for a moment.

“We can meet right here, there’s a place not far from here with nice sandwiches.”

He inclines his head.

“Sandwiches are great.”

You give him a soft smile of amusement, still a little unsure.

“Okay, we’ll meet here tomorrow? Around 12?”

He nods, digging into his pockets for a moment before pulling a card out and extending it to you.

You blink, a little cautious, reaching for the obsidian coloured paper in his hand. You study the raised silver lettering, his name, his job title, his company.

“The one on the left is my cell. Let me know when you get here. If you want, we can look around the museum too.”

Something flips in your chest at the thought. You wonder what he thought of The Scream.

“No,” You mumble, shaking your head, “The museum is packed on a Saturday. I hate crowds.”

He nods in understanding.

“No crowds then, maybe we can take a walk in the park.”

“Maybe.” You reply, still a little unsure of this entire scenario.

“You're safe, Omega, I promise.”

You offer a sad smile.

“That's what they all say.”

.

He was going to kill every Alpha that had ever made you feel unsafe.

He sits in his car, after you'd denied his offer to at least take you home. 

Your scent fades where he'd touched you, his body demanding more. Apples, so fucking sweet his mouth waters. 

Halfway to his home, a text comes in from you, shyly informing him that you'd made it home.

He'd asked, wanted to make sure that you were safe as the late evening had turned to night.

He keeps it simple, types out a small message to put you at ease.

Thank you. Sweet dreams

.

.

.

A/N: Pretty sure y'all are gonna hate this. Sorry.

Also, just asking for more without leaving any kind of feedback makes me feel kinda used 😅

[inkskinned]

i got my isbn today for the book. 8 months to go. my mom and i were talking about what the next steps are. i was eating trail mix, standing on one foot, phone tucked into my ear.

"yeah," i said. "the problem is that tumblr as a market is like, not something that can be studied." there's this weird wave of nostalgia and affection for this place that came up over me: how lovely we avoid consumerism. okay, it sucks as a creator. but also? keep stickin' it to 'em.

my mother made the sound at the back of her throat that i also make, the one that means i've got an idea. "you should figure out some kind of reward for presale amounts. maybe you give out poems or a mug or a signed book or something. would your followers like that?" my mother is sweet, and kind, and i have no idea how to explain on this website you can buy someone crabs.

i put more m&ms down the hatch. i had to speak through peanuts and almonds. "if it passes 25 thousand i will print the book out in its entirety and eat it live on camera."

"oh god. no, you don't have to do that." she was anguished. "just tell them that you'd love them to read it, and that they've inspired you to write. you got started on that site, and they helped you keep going. raquel, you love these people. the community? you talk all the time about the other writers and artists and whatever else. tell them that you're hoping for their support, they'll come through."

"no," i assured her. i discovered i had dropped an m&m, but an ant had already found it, so it belonged to him now. i will let his little life have a surprise blue treasure in it, too. "i'm gonna fuckin' eat the book."

[enden-agolor]

may I request a little sleepy Jesskas doodle?

(also please remember to take care of yourself! Don’t burn yourself out! Your a huge inspiration to me and others and you are appreciated!!!)

i mean sure. i GUESS i can do that 🙄

also thank you. i promise i pace myself properly and don't go through too much burn out. im so happy i can inspire you and others with the silly block guys : ]

[mithrilhearts]

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Helloooooo baby let me tell you some things come here.

Dark!Vampire Billy Russo

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, Billy uses compulsion to get what he wants, spitting, fingering.

"Well that's not something you see everyday." Frank says, earning Billy's attention.

He turns, following Frank's line of sight, looking through the mirrored window of the upstairs office.

This, was no such territory.

When vampires had first become public knowledge, a lot of humans stopped going out at night, sticking to the safe zones, areas that had been drenched in ultraviolet light to stop vampires from entering. Gradually, as vampires had begun to prove that they wanted to live side by side with humans, the lines had begun blurring, there was now a nice territory between the human areas and the vampire areas where both species could live peacefully together.

Billy had formed his club deep in vampire territory for a reason, simply put, he didn't like humans all that much.

So to see one, as beautiful as you were, doing shots at the bar in his club, burned.

Other vampires in the club paid you and your little group of humans no mind, because here, blood flowed freely on tap, and there was no one hungry enough to attack. Which is probably why you were so confident to come here in the first place.

Billy blinks when he sees a few vampires join your group, and he realizes how you were able to gain entrance.

He can't help the way his eyes keep going back to you, even though your friends were pretty, there was just something about you that called out to him.

Before he can think about it, or second guess his decision, he turns, and walks out of his office and down to the ground floor.

In the darkness of the club, you don't see him coming. The music pulses low, soft for sensitive vampire ears, and you love that about the club. You love everything. The dark red and blue lighting, soft edges and gentle respect from the vampires, this was way better than any human club ever.

Josh, your vampire colleague had been excited to show you, after you'd complained about regular clubs, he'd told you that the vampire in charge really was a pillar of the community.

So you'd gathered a little group of friends, and now here you were drinking ages old tequila.

A little tipsy, laughing at something, you don't notice when someone comes up behind you until he's right there.

"I hope you're enjoying yourselves." He says easily, and you spin in surprise.

Your mouth drops open at the sight of him.

He's dressed somewhat formally, dark shirt and pants, contrasting your casual short dress. He's gorgeous, smiling at everyone before his eyes fall on you.

Josh is finally able to stutter an introduction.

"G-guys, this is Mister Russo, he owns the club."

"Pleasure." He says, raising a hand for you to take. When you do, sill lost in a trance, he raises your hand to kiss the back of your fingers easily.

Your body flushes with heat.

Your eyes slide over his features, over his neat beard and his surprisingly pink lips, down the column of his neck and the glint of his silver chain draws your eye.

"What's your name, little one?" He asks in your direction, and you struggle to remember how to breathe.

You tell him, with butterflies swirling in your stomach.

"May I be so bold to ask you to come upstairs for a drink with me?"

You bite down on your bottom lip hard, trying to make sure this wasn't a dream. His eyes follow the moment.

"Yeah, um, I mean- you may."

His smile his delectable. He looks up at Josh.

"Don't worry, she's in good hands." Billy says.

Josh, who is too afraid to protest, gives Billy a firm nod.

"I'll message you." You say to the group with a smile, as Billy, whose hand is still locked with yours, pulls you away.

You follow him upstairs, trying not to stumble or look stupid as you follow him, your thumb sweeping over the back of his hand, memorizing the feeling of his skin.

He pulls you into a dark room, and it takes you a second for your eyes to adjust for you to notice the classic lounge chairs.

He lets go of your hand, and you feel so untethered without his hold that you try to remain where you are.

You watch him approach a little table, grabbing a single glass to pour three fingers of amber liquid into it.

"None for me?" You ask quietly, a little nervous to be alone with him so fast.

"I wouldn't waste a glass of this on you," he says in a mean way, taking you by surprise.

When he's done, he takes a seat on the couch, leaning back to look at you.

"Come." He says simply, and you respond easily, body throbbing from his easy dominance of you.

You stand between his spread thighs, trying not to nervously pick on your fingertips.

"Take your clothes off."

You freeze. Somehow, before you can stop yourself, you're turning to let him unzip your dress, letting it fall to the floor.

What were you doing? You ask yourself as your undergarments follow. Why couldn't you stop?

He pats his thigh.

"Sit."

You try to fight it, but your body has a mind of its own, moving to straddle his thigh. You gasp when your wet center presses to his thigh. He wraps his free hand around you, keeping you fitted to his body.

"The audacity you have to step into my club, little one, when I built it here to keep mortals away."

"I'm sorry." You whisper, body trembling as you fight to pull away from him.

He turns to look at you, parting his lips to show you the peek of his fangs.

"You will be."

The words frighten you.

He leans you back, and you move easily, gasping when he pours a little of whatever was in his glass onto your shoulder.

You keen in surprise when his tongue makes contact with your breast, moving up to catch the little stream of whiskey.

"Why don't you play it yourself for me."

You make a noise of protest, but your hand moves anyway, dipping between your thighs to massage your aching cunt against your will.

He continues to pour his drink onto your skin, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the sensations.

He grabs the hand between your thighs and pulls it up to taste your fingers. He groans in appreciation.

When he lets go of your hand, it goes right back to your dripping center.

"Edge yourself."

A pained whimper as your fingers speed up, his eyes observing you carefully, only to watch your frustrated expression as your fingers stop so close to the edge.

He lets out a little chuckle.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing to you. It's a gift I was born with."

You gasp, shaking with fright at the realisation.

He grins.

"That's right. I was born. I bet they tell you in schools that all the born vampires are dead, but that's just not true."

"So when I tell you to open your mouth and stick your tongue out. There's not much you can do to stop me."

You do as he says, parting your lips, extending your tongue, finding that you can't stop him.

He grins, leans forward and spits, his saliva dropping from your tongue and onto your breasts so quickly.

"Swallow." He says, and as you do, you get a taste of his drink- ages old whiskey.

He pulls your fingers from your center, and replaces them with his own.

"You're very wet for someone who's doing things against her will. Tell me the truth, are you enjoying this?"

You fight it. You grit your teeth and hold your breath, and still, your mouth moves without permission.

"Yes." You confess.

He grins, proud, finishing his glass of whiskey in one gulp so that he can put the glass down and grab the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His mouth is sinful, and you pant desperately against him. He brings you right up to the edge of orgasm again before he stops.

"Pinch your nipples."

You do as he asks.

"Harder."

You whine in discomfort.

"Stop."

You sag in relief.

He chuckles.

You think you might hate him.

You think you might be obsessed with him.

When he presses two of his fingers into you, you gasp in surprise. Your body so aroused that you manage to take his fingers easily with only a little pinch of pain.

"I'm going to make you cum on my fingers now. And then you're going to get dressed, and I'll take you back down to your friends. If anyone asks, we had a nice drink. Don't tell anyone about the things I've said."

You nod, deep in bliss, so close to the edge and practically begging for release.

"Good girl. You can cum when you're ready."

You don't need anymore prompt, cunt fluttering around his fingers easily, whining as the bliss overtakes you.

You sag into his chest, fatigue of pleasure flooding your system.

"So pretty for me." He says, and you smile.

"I don't want you coming for anyone other than me. Ever again."

You gasp in shock at his words.

.

Josh gives you a concerned look after Mister Russo departs from you.

"How was it?" He asks, eyeing you up and down.

You smile easily.

"It was nice." Is all you say.

.

.

.

A/N: no reread I'm late for worrkkkk

Vampire Club Owner!Billy Russo

[papanowo]

we’re still here

[stills under the cut] 

[joshdonnas]

JOSH LYMAN AND DONNA MOSS THE WEST WING "Tomorrow" (7x22) Script, 2nd Draft, 03/21/06

[nottogetpoliticalbutwtfisoatmeal]

YAYYYYY!!!! ITS DONE!!! FINISHED (fingers crossed)

ANYWAYS this an an au ive had for a while. Jesse becomes 'possessed' with a player (you) who controls his actions throughout the game. Decision making and combat is made easier, but Jesse has to deal with no longer being in control of his own body. This is the first encounter, I like to think

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

Milo Ventimiglia as Jess Mariano in Gilmore Girls | 3.18 "Happy Birthday, Baby" (10/?)

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

I really like the specific niche of star wars fans that are just obsessed with clones (like myself) bc I swear, we are the most avoidant group of ppl the galaxy has ever fcking met.

what do you mean Hardcase died on Umbara? he looks fine to me?

Fives? Died? girl when? last I remember he was choking the life out of chancellor palpatine

Waxer, dead because of Krell? not if you don't look at it he's not

Domino Squad? ALIVE AND BREATHING, THANK YOU!!

Ponds? killed by a bounty hunter? I'd like to see her try, Mace would kill her

99 will never die, fight me

Tup? are u crazy, I saw him yesterday, we hugged it out

THE ENTIRE 332 COMPANY? We are literally having drinks with them right now, what are you on about?

Jesse has never hurt a soul in his life, he is the goodest boy in blue, he would never raise a pistol to Ahsoka, stop talking okay??

Cody? kill obi wan? someone's been drinking the funny juice huh?

order 66 who? never heard of her, leave me alone, no I mean it. go away. stop. STOP, LEAVE!!

[doitforbangchan]

😍😍😍😍😍😍

Ever Lovely - A faerie tale

Synopsis~ From the dawn of humanity there has been aristocracy. While each group of people -or otherwise- has their own hierarchy the ideal generally remains the same; someone needs to rule. For the illustrious Court of Stars the royalty has remained untouched and unchanging for centuries. Where does a lonely human princess fall in with the new rulers of one of the most distinguished Courts in all Fae realm? And what will become of her if she strays to far from home?

Pairing~ Fae Prince!Bangchan x reader (afab/fem) x Fae Prince!Lee Know

Warnings~ Smut, Fluff, heavy angst, light MxM, late 1700's ish time period, and more tba..

Series coming soon.. Release date TBD 💜💜