Did I Tell U Guys I Got Into An Argument On Twitter Bc I Said Foxes Are Dogs And Someone Tried To Bring

For years, Price remained the only person on Ghost’s emergency contact list. Price practically had to bully Ghost into getting put on there too. Then comes Soap, who makes his way on there like he belonged there. The scotsman was always so good at that type of thing. It’s been almost a year since Soap died. Ghost has been more reckless on ops, he knows it. This time, it lands him in the hospital. The staff says there’s two people on his emergency contact list, but Ghost knows only one could ever answer the call. He can’t bring himself to take Soap off. Ghost still pays Soap’s phone bill to hear his voice mail.

SPN MOODBOARDS

Save a horse, ride a Vaquero 😌

~Quick painting study I did recently - the man, the legend, the SAS scalpel - Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick ❤️‍🔥~

thinking about getting a little too drunk w husband!simon…

he’s already a super possessive guy, but your drunken antics are only making it ten times worse.

sure, coming to the bar was his idea. it was only fair, after such a long week at work, that he got to have a nice dinner on the town and a few beers shortly after. even better that he got to do it with his pretty fucking wife, you know?

yeah, he watched you slip into the tightest, smallest dress you had, curl your hair into pretty little coils, and push and pull at everything else out of place. he saw the too tall black pumps you choose— the one’s he got you for your anniversary that make your legs look model-length long. he even saw the way your black lace bralette played peek-a-boo along your dress’s neckline.

all of it only made him more excited.

getting to show you off on the town? his sweet, sexy little woman all done-up and pretty, hanging off his arm like his little trophy? god, he was practically hard before you two could reach the front door.

the second that liquor hit your system, though, was the second all hell broke loose.

at this point in the night, you’re long past the idea of sitting pretty, eating your food, and posing for pictures. now, you’re feeling good. a little tipsy, or maybe even drunk. all the shyness or docile little feelings from the beginning of the night are gone.

now, you wanna dance. you wanna throw your arms up and sway with the other bar-goers, and why shouldn’t you be able to?

you didn’t mind the way your dress rode up your thighs, giving the wrong people an eyeful of your goods. you hadn’t noticed the men who’d run their hands over you, every so often passing by with their crotch just a little too close to your ass. all you were focused on was the music, how good you felt, and when your next shot was coming.

if only you had paid attention to the damn near menacing stare simon had you under. something that rivaled a madman’s with its intensity.

he’d held back for the first few songs, letting the angel on his shoulder telling him to ease up guide him. sure, he still stood around like an unamused body guard, sending glares to the gawking men and buying your drinks whenever you asked. maybe occasionally he’d get a cute picture or video of you too. that was just what came with the simon o’riley type though.

it wasn’t until you got to the flirty territory, grinding your ass into him with the music or kissing him with a little too much tongue, that he decided to pull the plug.

and god, did you always give him attitude for it.

“i’m not ready to leave, simon,” you’d whine, eyes glossed over and face screwed up in that cute little way you only do when you’re aggravated.

“i want another drink,” but you’re slurring and stumbling already.

“just keep kissing on me, baby,” you protest as he grabs your discarded shoes and purse and starts leading you towards the exit.

he’s sweet with you at first, given how drunk and cute you truly are. sure, you may have triggered his possessiveness early, but you’re batting your eyelashes up at him and clinging onto him for dear life. how could he not talk to you softly? how could he not kiss you back as he tugged your dress back down?

“it’s alright, lovie. let’s get home and i’ll take such good care of you.”

you start trying to fight him though and you’ll see how thin his patience truly is.

doing things out of spite? pulling his hands away from you while he’s trying to guide you down the street? arguing with him through your half-coherent sentences? cursing him under your breath just loud enough that he can hear it?

you’re getting yourself in trouble and you’re too drunk to know it.

he was prepared to let your little outbursts slide. wouldn’t hold it against you and still keep his plans straight for the night.

after all you’d done, he was still gonna get you home, slip off those stockings and undo those zippers. dedicate the rest of the night to making you feel all good like how you’d begging him too.

but you just can’t keep that pretty little mouth shut, can you?

“don’t make it worse for yourself.” he’d warn, grabbing your face from its resting place against his passenger-side window, “you’ve already fucked up enough as is, yeah?”

his voice is gruff and his jaw is set, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a second.

you’ll be making it up to him all night long, and he’s gonna be anything but nice now ;)

Dick waking up at 3 a.m. to a phone ringing loudly. The only night off he takes from Nightwing. He couldn't be grumpier.

Dick: What do you want? Money? A check? My soul?

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds.

Tim: Hiiii to my favorite older brother

Dick: Dfq did you do?

Tim: Ey it's not only me!

Jason: Hi dickie!

Dick remained silent, as he assimilated everything and fought against sleep.

Dick: where do I have to go to look for you?

1 hour later Dick is at the Gotham police station, taking his brothers out while scolding them like never before (mostly for wake him up).

I know most people don't care about anything unless it has to do with the U.S. but can we please start talking about the Canadian election.

Please don't vote for Poilievre. He's basically the Canadian Trump and plans to put in place laws that harm trans youth, and lots of other shit.

Please vote istg this is the only way anything will get better. Poilievre has been kissing millionaires and billionaires asses. He'll make life even harder, and he loves Trump.

Reblogs are appreciated, especially if you aren't Canadian.

Jason is just a fun lil guy. He loves the thought of fucking around with his brothers like how normal siblings would. Playing extreme tag, making pillow forts, running around in stores with them. He loves the idea. But the bats don't know this because they don't ask. To them, Jason is a big brooding guy who has a moody reputation to keep. Why would he want to do silly little things with them?

So the batkids have all this fun with each other minus Jason, because they don't think he's like that sort of thing, and minus Damian, because he's not interested unless his big brother is there too.

One day, Tim wants to film a TikTok. He goes to Dick, but he's too busy. Dick jokingly says to just ask Jason, and Tim is like: "Yeah, alright." So he does.

Jason: *Reading on the couch in his safehouse*

Tim: *Climbs through window*

Jason:

Tim: "Can you make a TikTok with me?"

Jason, suspicious: "Why me? Don't you usually go to other people for that shit?"

Tim: "Is that a yes or no?"

Jason: "Well, if you want me to.. what is it?"

Tim, pleasantly surprised: "We're going to play rock paper scissors to battle for our food."

Jason: "What-"

Jason and Tim in a weirdly lit, empty parking lot

Tim: "Ok, ok, rock, paper, scissors, shoot" *Rock*

Jason, holding up scissors: "Fuck!" *Starts running like his life depends on it*

Tim: "Haha, ok-" *Starts eating some chicken nuggets* "Hell yeah, these are good."

Jason: "Stop stop stop I'm back-" *Rock*

Tim: *Paper*

Jason, running away: "SHIT!"

The video ends with Jason finally winning a round. He starts to shove as much food in his mouth as he can. Tim trips on his way back and Jason laughs so hard he spits everything out and starts to choke.

Tim goes to Jason to do dumb shit now, and Dick is concerned for the rest of the world, unsuspecting of his brothers' BS.

Munch! Simon.

It’s not something he exactly hides.

Whether it’s passing little comments, or simply the way he could spend hours devouring your cunt.

Simon has never hidden the fact that he enjoys eating you out, almost to a sadistic level.

He was gentle at first, learning your body.

But eventually, he simply couldn’t get enough.

Not when you look so pretty riding his tongue, not when you taste so good that he can’t even help but moan against your slick cunt with every pass of his tongue.

Which was what led you to the first bout of overstimulation.

He’d been down there for nearly 10 minutes already, gentle, loving. Exploring your cunt like he’d never tasted it before.

And when you came, he kept going.

“Mm, sweet girl. Gimme more.”

His tongue would find your clit, lightly flicking over it again and again earning that addicting choked sound out of you that had him gripping your thighs a little tighter.

And when your second orgasm came, he groaned into your cunt. Lapping it up like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

“Another…c’mon baby…let me give you more.”

He’d let his tongue trail down, sinking into your clenching hole only to bring it back up to your overstimulated clit. Moaning when you bucked from the sensation.

“You can take it…I know you can…so good for me.”

Over and over, his tongue would flick your clit, briefly sucking on it which only served to make his eyes roll back downright pathetically when you pull his hair a little too tight. His hand trailing down, two thick digits breaching your sensitive hole and curling into that sweet spot that had you squirting before you could even realise.

His head would pop up, eyes as dark as the damp mud outside…that shit eating smirk on his face as he curled his fingers into that spot over and over. Release gushing out of you until you physically couldn’t take it.

“Alright…alright sweet girl…s’okay…I got ya.”

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@whore4romance this was the one I meant to tag you in 😭