for certain because

Eren: omg captain levi you’re such a badass!

Levi: Excuse you?

Eren: Pardon?

Levi: My ass is better than yours, how dare you call it bad?

anonymous asked:

OH MY GOD photographer H is the best thing there is, like what if you're camera shy at first but now you're accustomed to him taking candids of you all the time (you're the only model he wants to take photos of) and he's experimenting with different genres and asks to take raunchy photos of you and then he proceeds to fuck you against the table in his makeshift darkroom while he waits for the photos to develop heLP ME 😩

PLEAS E YOU KNOW WHAT MAKES THAT EVEN BETTER??? Imagining Harry having taken a million and one pictures of you by now – you’ve been together for nearly a year, and in that time he had managed to rid himself of most any other models by the third month and his sole focus is on you, in his personal life and his professional. He’s constantly taking pictures of you, and at first you’d shy away, tell him to ‘stop it, H,’ and he’d argue that he couldn’t help it, ‘there’s just no one quite as lovely as you, baby,’ he’d tell you, and he’d eventually gotten you to loosen up and you let him take as many candids as he’d like – because that’s honestly and truly what he prefers, just you existing as a person. But sometimes he’ll be in the mood to have you pose for him, and you do that just as happily, following his directions and stealing a kiss from him every time he comes to adjust your positioning. 

And maybe he’s got his favorite of his cameras close by at all times, and it’s on the bedside table when he catches a glimpse of it while he’s laying with your head on his chest, on a post-sex cloud, and he’ll rub over your bare shoulder before he speaks. “D’you – would you ever lemme’ take photos ‘f you like this?” He murmurs, and you raise an eyebrow as you look up at him, because sure the idea has crossed your mind a time or two. You’ve posed for him in lingerie and he’s got a few of you with your bare breasts on display, but you know what he’s asking for is far more than any of that – he wants to capture the intimacy, not just you in your panties (although he quite enjoys that, too). You tell him yes, regardless, and he pulls you in for a kiss. 

The next day is spent with you all over him and him documenting your every move with a snap on the camera. It starts with him coming down to find you making breakfast in your knickers, and he gets a photo of you from the back before he slides up behind you, and presses his lips to your neck and his hands to your hips. “Think ‘m gonna’ spend this whole day takin’ photos ‘f you,” he whispers and you grin, because it’s not the first time he’s done that, but it doesn’t happen as often as some might think, really. “Think it should be like the ones you were asking about last night,” you murmur, and he digs his fingers into your hips, and you turn around to kiss him good morning. 

You end up with your knees against the kitchen tile before long, and he snaps photos of you on the way down, and then more than just a few while you’ve got him in your mouth. When he comes, you let a bit dribble onto your lower lip, and he tilts your head up to snap a picture of that, as well, your chin pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and your eyes are pretty and sparkling up at him. He’s never seen anything so sinful in his life, and he’s just immortalized the image. He does it again when you gather his cum on your fingers and suck them clean as you stare up at him, swallowing down every last drop of him.

Later, the button down of his you’ve been wearing all day ends up unbuttoned while you lounge on the couch, your head in his lap, and you’ve got your fingers dragging over the soft skin of your tummy, and he grins down as he watches you, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he aimed to capture you at the perfect angle. You smile up at him when you realize what he’s doing, and he gets a few of you laughing as you look up at him. When he reaches to cup your cunt, you gasp, and he documents it while he makes you cum around three of his fingers and you’re pulling at the white t-shirt he’s wearing as you whimper, whine, and let out the prettiest moans he’s ever heard. 

The raunchiest photos he takes that day are taken in your shared bed, though, and it starts with him taking pictures of you as you strip down completely at the end of the bed. Harry asks you to stand there for a moment while he gets the perfect shot of you nude, with the night sky peering through the windows behind you, too, and you happily oblige. When he goes down on you afterwards, he passes the camera off to you, and asks you to photograph him while he makes you cum on his tongue. It’s not an easy task, considering you turn into a fucking mess any time Harry gets his obscenely talented mouth on you, but you manage, and you snap a few extra of him, with your wet around his mouth, as he hovers over you just after. 

The photos that come after that are what send a chill down your spine, though – because he takes pictures of you with his fingers in your mouth, with his hands on your tits, of where his cock is buried deep inside of you, his thumb pressed against your clit, his fingers spreading your cunt, and half a dozen with his hand around your hickey covered throat. Perhaps the filthiest of them all comes after you’ve finished, though, because he’s quick to situate himself between your legs to get a few of where you’re leaking his release onto the sheets beneath you. A year ago, you’d be wary to even let someone take pictures of you in just your underwear, but Harry’s currently taking pictures of his cum dripping out of your cunt, and you let out the quietest moan at the acknowledgment alone.

That must get his attention, because he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, and sets the camera on the nightstand as he moves back up to kiss you gently, his hand cupping your cheek as you stare up at him with blown pupils. “You were so good f’me, baby. Did so well t’day. Looked so pretty,” he murmurs, and you grin as he speaks, wrapping your fingers around his wrist to hold him in place as you turn your head to press little kisses to his fingertips. “I love you so much,” he whispers, and you smile even wider. “I love you, too,” you reply, and he’s kissing you as he situates the two of you so that you’re pulled into his chest and you’re both on your sides facing each other. He gives you one last slow, gentle dicking, in that same position, before the two of you finally fall asleep. 

The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, but you don’t even have to wonder where Harry’s gone off to, because you’re certain that he’s already situated himself in his ‘darkroom’ (it’s the basement, but that’s what he’s turned it into). 

You find out that you’re right when you wander down after a shower, thankful that he’s hung a black curtain between the staircase and the rest of the room, so you’re not worried that the lights will disturb his prints when you open the door. “You left me all alone in bed this morning,” you murmur, your arms wrapping around his middle much like his had you the morning before in the kitchen, and he hums, finishing the task at hand before turning to you and dropping a kiss to your lips. “Couldn’t wait t’see ‘em,” he replies, and you grin wider when he corrects the word ‘them’ to ‘you.’ 

There’s no telling how long he’s been down here, considering he’s already got several of the prints drying, and he drags you over to show you as much. The first one you notice is of you with your back arching up off the bed, your lips parted in a pretty ‘o’ and your eyes screwed shut, with Harry’s hand covering one of your breasts. You’ve seen plenty of porn, sure, but there’s something about seeing yourself that way and knowing that Harry took the photos that makes your entire body flush. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says, and it’s not a whispered sentiment; his voice is loud and sudden and his hand on your hip is burning against your skin, and you wrap your arms around him and lean into his side just to be closer

“‘Re you gonna’ do anything with them?” You murmur, and he hums in thought, because you haven’t even discussed whether or not he intended to use these for a gallery show, you just said yes without a second thought. You don’t think you’d mind if he did want to use them, though. After all, it’s you and Harry, not random people, and the thought of people getting to see your love, your intimacy isn’t something you’re opposed to. “Thought about it,” he starts, and you look up at him as he speaks, and he shakes his head as he looks down at you. “Maybe two ‘r three, but I think I mostly jus’ wanna’ keep ‘em for us,” he murmurs, you smile as he leans in to kiss you again, but the kiss turns hot and needy, fucking greedy – all teeth and tongue and your hands all over each other. 

You suppose that’s how he ends up fucking you against the table in his darkroom for the first time, his hand gripping your ass harshly as he fucks up into you, and you’ve got a leg hoisted around his waist, your teeth scraping over the skin of his neck to try and keep yourself quiet, but Harry tells you he wants to hear you, because he always does, so you don’t hold back after that. When you both finish, him in your mouth, you tell him you think a proper sextape should be his next project, if he’s still interested in learning more about videography. He laughs into a kiss and tells you he was thinking the same. 

anonymous asked:

Is it actually confirmed Matt deleted the picture because of the comments? I mean he shares pics of Esther quite often and while I do not make a habit of reading many comments under those posts, I actually thought the fans' reaction to her was largely positive?

honestly, i couldn’t tell. all i know is that i got a notification that matt posted sth on his ig but when i wanted to check it out, it was already gone

but people are often very rude to esther. so even if it wasn’t the case this time, it is a problem in this fandom. because certain girls hate on esther because they would like to be with matt. and i’m just?????

just look at him whenever he even mentions esther. matt is happy and he’s in love. you’d think that should be enough for fans… but no, apparently not

if a person of color is telling you that you’re being racist you need to recognize it and apologize. if a gay/bisexual person is telling you that you’re being homophobic/biphobic you need to recognize it and apologize. if a transgender person is telling you that you’re being transphobic, recognize it and apologize. if a woman is telling you that you’re being sexist, recognize it and apologize. the line is not yours to be drawn.

anonymous asked:

can you draw some Sonny n Graffiti Pete Valentine's Day love !! I wanna surprise my girlfriend she loves them more than me

getting pete to accept that sonny actually likes him is a full time job

Aquarius Debunked: Myth #2

People keep calling Aquarians “humanitarian.”

It’s true, in a way. 

Aquarians do charity work. They’ll feed the poor, help build shelters, and give a homeless person a dollar.

But they’ll make sure someone’s taking pictures, put it on their resume, casually mention how they helped make the world a better place, in every single conversation with everyone they meet. 

If you ask what they’d do if they won the lottery, they’ll say, “I’ll use the money to make the world a better place” (build a hospital, donate to PETA, whatever). They’ll say it while they watch you carry an armload groceries into your house, without offering to help. 

There’s no glory in helping with the little things. You can’t put small acts of genuine kindness on a resume. Where are the cameras? Pfft.

They’ll offer to travel the world with you- because they need someone to take pictures of them to put on Instagram. They need to appear popular and well-traveled, but they have no genuine interest in taking in the sights, making connections, or having fun. 

It’s always about appearances.

An Aquarius would rather project an image of being happy and fulfilled via their facebook profile, than experience actual happiness and fulfilment. They’d rather appear to be humanitarian than actually help people from the heart. They’d rather appear popular than have any real friends. They’d rather appear to have a perfect relationship than find true love. 

It takes less time and effort to construct a pretty lie than to build something beautiful and true. So, I get it. (I don’t respect it.) But I get it.

We are currently in the age of Aquarius. One glance around shows that everyone displays the behavior described here to some extent. People are allies because it’s the cool thing to do, not because they care. People stay in friend groups just to fit in and appear well-adjusted, not because they’re actually friends. Etc.

Those with prominent Aquarius in their birth chart (esp. rising) just do this more than the rest of us.

The evolved Aquarius is a true rebel and revolutionary. The evolved Aquarius does things for only one reason: because they want to. Not to help others, and not to help themselves, but from pure, genuine, internal motivation. This form of Aquarius is exceptionally rare. You’re more likely to come across the sheep than the lone wolf manifestation of this sign.

So… For the love of god, stop calling Aquarians ‘humanitarian’ when they honestly couldn’t give a fuck, unless it makes them look good.

[Myth #1]

KURO WEEK - DAY 8 (FREE DAY): Magic.


“Lance - what exactly are you doing?”, Kuro whined, feeling the freshly closed wounds on his arm and back strain with the movement. The Blue Paladin decidedly kept his usually chatty mouth shut. Instead of answering– or even recognizing– Kuro’s defiant tugging, he gently closed his grip around Kuro’s flesh wrist a little tighter and pulled him along.


Only minutes ago they had been at the Castle’s med-bay, tending to his scratches and cuts. Their latest mission had been rough. Although it was supposed to be a simple in and out rescue mission, it had gone awfully wrong. As in, Kuro was happy he’d walked away with his flesh arm and legs still intact and attached to his body. Thankfully, the rest of the group had had more luck.

In hindsight, they should’ve known better. They should’ve been prepared for the whole mission to go sideways with how heavily guarded the planet they’d freed had been. But saving planets and whole star systems from the ones that once had created him was their job now. It was Kuro’s job now. And nothing, not even the most hopeless situation, would keep them from doing just that. Saving lives.

This whole concept, the mere thought of him being one of the good guys, still had the Galra hybrid feeling adrift and somewhat out of place. He hadn’t been created for this. For killing - yes. For fighting, shedding blood and tearing whole fleets apart - definitely. But doing so for a good cause? A higher goal? On behalf of the whole damn universe? Nope. Just- no. Kuro would’ve laughed his ass off at that prospect.


But times change you, a small voice in the back of his head provided.

Averting his gaze from the back of Lance’s head and focusing on their somewhat awkwardly joined hands instead (he was still new to the whole human interaction and physical contact thing, okay?), Kuro couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

Not times, he countered. People. People change you.


It took one more turn around a corner for Kuro to know where they were heading. Lance had asked him to close his eyes. What for, Lance  wouldn’t tell. Not even when Kuro stated how he knew they were going to Lance’s room. The Cuban boy wouldn’t have any of it; simply shushed him with a finger to the clone’s dry lips. There had been a gleam in those dark blue eyes. A gleam he couldn’t quite pin down, but made him want to lick that delicate digit pressed to his lips.


“Just do it already!”, Lance huffed and playfully put one hand over Kuro’s yellow eyes, before he opened the door to his quarters. “Or you’ll ruin the surprise.”

Had he been smiling before, he was downright smirking now.

“Lance, I swear to all deities out there, if the surprise is you taking off your clothes right in front of me, I-”

His teasing died right on Kuro’s tongue and came out as a sputtered, choked sound when he felt two warm hands grab for the hem of his own shirt and pull it upwards.

What the-

“Don’t open your eyes”, came Lance’s voice - a bit shaky, but determined nonetheless. “Just-… Take that off, will you? But please be careful with those scratches on your back.”

It took Kuro a second.

Then another two or three.

His mind had gone completely blank, out of order, Kuro.exe had stopped working. His hands however - oh he’d have to have a talk with them in the near future about not acting on their own, pulling his shirt off within a heartbeat, just because a certain Paladin told them to.


Cool air hit his bare skin - thanks for that you little traitors!, he glowered at his hands for a moment, before screwing his eyes shut again, waiting for Lance’s next move. Heartbeat thundering in his ears and filling the silence that hung over them for a few moments before the smaller man carefully took his clawed bionic hand in his own flesh ones and led him to the bed.

Even with his eyes shut, Kuro could still smell it; the way countless sleepovers made his and Lance’s scents mingle and cling to the sheets and pillows, creating a whole new fragrance that filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt before.

It smelled like home.

Home…

Something fuzzy, tingling unfurled in his chest at that.


“Okay, now sit down, please?”, he could hear the rustling of blankets being pulled back. Without giving a second thought to it, Kuro simply purred an affirmative sound and carefully sat down as not to disturb the straining and prickling wounds on his back any further.

When he’d finally arranged himself properly on the soft mattress, the hybrid heaved a sigh.

“And… what now?”, he asked, proud that the anticipation that caused his guts to twitch didn’t seep into his voice.

Around him Lance rummaged through the room, providing him with the softest wool blanket they possessed and finally turning off the main lights.

There was a soft pad of bare feet on the cold metal floor, followed by the now familiar feeling of a slender body’s weight sinking into the mattress behind him.


Lance shifted closer behind him, close enough that Kuro could feel his breath hit the skin between his shoulderblades. Warm hands crept up his sides until they rested on his ribs. Tender. Careful. So, so careful.

“Do you trust me?”

That question, though barely audible, caught Kuro off guard.

“Uh…”, wow, eloquent as always. “Y-yes? Yes, I trust you.”

He still kept his eyes firmly shut, but he didn’t really need his eyes to know what kind of expression flickered over Lance’s face when the smaller man inhaled sharply.

A heartbeat.

Then another.

“Okay.”

The soft hands at Kuro’s ribs gave him a reassuring squeeze, before Lance continued: “If I do something you don’t feel comfortable with… just tell me and I’ll stop. Got that?”

Another purring sound escaped the clone’s throat, followed by a small nod to make sure the other one saw his approval.

“Good…”


Before he could say anything in return, Kuro felt a hesitant pressure at his back. Warm and soft, barely noticeable, but still it felt like he’d been struck by lightning. His eyes flew open. Heat rushed to his cheeks.

The room around them was mostly dark, the only source of light being the warm yellow fairy lights, they had attached to the ceiling right above their shared bed.

There were soft blankets and pillows everywhere, effectively building a nest around the two of them.

And right in the center of all this cozyness there was Lance. Sitting right behind him. Drawing lazy circles into his sides. Pressing his ever so soft lips to the tender, badly scratched skin between his shoulders. Kissing him.


“W-what… what exactly are you doing there?”, the question came out as a high, squeaky sound that made him cringe.

Lance however seemed to have regained some of his confidence over the first contact of skin to skin. For he dragged his lips over the expanse of Kuro’s wide shoulders, right to the next cut, where they lingered, as light as a feather. A shiver ran down his spine, while Lance replied - lips ghosting over his skin with every syllable: “You know, back on earth we have that term ‘to kiss away the pain’. That’s what I’m doing here.”

“O-okay? And is that… some kind of Terran healing technique?”

Trying and failing at fighting off the major blush that set his whole face on fire, he finally gave up and opted for hiding it behind his hands.

Terran healing technique? Seriously?! What the hell, Kuro?


This… this was so surreal.

Kuro felt like combusting would be an acceptable reaction by now.


“No, you silly goose”, came the huffed response. “It’s called magic.”


And with that the Blue Paladins lips continued their journey from cut, to scratch, to bruise, to scar.


Until Kuro’s whole body tingled with the warmth they left in their wake.


Magic…

___

aaaand there we go. My final entry for the @kuroweek 2017. I’ve been longing to upload this for so long now!! Especially because I made my poor bean suffer like hell. He was in dire need of something good and happy. :3 I had so much fun doing this - all of my entries. This week was super awesome! Thanks!! :3

2

Okay seriously…how fucking gorgeous are Olara and Varl? X_X

anonymous asked:

Why do you still believe? I can't deal with all the crap we are being fed. So I'm taking my life jacket (before they all go) and jumping off the lido deck, with my drink of course. Hopefully one day the games will stop, honesty will prevail and I'll be able to step back on the cruise. Take care you are truly a funny person x

It’s a combination of things, really. One, there’s a fine line between confidence and delusion, and I ride that shit like a bear on a unicycle. Two, I have years of practice picking apart celebrity gossip from fact. Four, I trust my eyeballs over my ears. Five, having a general understanding of how this shit works helps immensely when it comes to not falling for the fake tennis ball throw every time. Six, I’m not a gambler but I like my odds here because 95% of what I see points toward SC as the couple, and I’m not one to throw away my hand on a 5% chance. Seven, I fucked up the numbering and am too lazy to change it, which is a pretty good metaphor for how my mind works when it has already laid the groundwork for something and doesn’t feel compelled in any way to change it. 

  • Maria: Nat how do you want your coffee?
  • Natasha: as dark as my soul
  • Maria: *hands her a cup of warm milk*
  • Natasha: *struggles to push back tears*