Same, Poor Sean🥺🥺 (and Dutch Was Kind Of A C*nt All The Time And Made Everything About Himself,

Where I'm from the 1L. Pepsi bottles are 1,50€, so... 😺

Kinda fucked up and nasty how vampires drink blood, imo. Like. Pepsi costs a dollar seventy five

You forgot ghostface, he's such a mood

Mind you, I was depressed before the milk tea

One thing I enjoy in this whole story is how Otto and Alicent Hightower have somehow convinced themselves that they speak for the entire Realm.

They don’t call a Great Council after King Viserys dies to settle the succession, they don’t let people choose between Rhaenyra and Aegon, they keep King Viserys’ death a secret and plot with the Council behind closed doors.

And then they claim to speak for the Realm when they say things like: “The Realm will not accept her [Rhaenyra]”.

Is that right? And how could your conniving, backstabbing ass know that, Ser Otto? Did you run a survey during the years you were Hand? Did you create polls? Anything like that?

[Don’t even get me started on Alicent. In real life, a woman like her (upstart, conniving, jealous and cruel bitch who steals her stepdaughter’s inheritance immediately after her father’s death), would never receive any kind of support from anyone].

All I can remember is Aegon being crowned by his mommy, granddaddy and his mommy’s lap dog/wannabe lover in the Dragonpit, with hundreds of smallfolk who were forced to attend this farce of a coronation and swear obeisance to a false king under penalty of death (the death of Lord Lyman Beesbury was proof enough that the Greens were going to execute anyone who did not comply with their treasonous actions).

And despite everything, Rhaenyra ends up having the majority Houses on her side (53) and she controls the largest territories of the Realm (the North, the Vale and the Riverlands).

As a whole, Rhaenyra has: the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, the Iron Islands, the Crownlands, and half the Reach.

Meanwhile, Aegon only has the Stormlands, the Westerlands and half the Reach.

Otto and Alicent are either living in absolute denial and prefer to lie to themselves and others or they are truly out of their minds.

Understand this: 3/4 of Westeros preferred to go to war for a woman, rather than accept the man already sitting the throne.

Now, tell me again, what were you saying about the Realm?

abrahamic religions this abrahamic religions that. when will people stop lumping jews and muslims with christians...judaism and islam have never been the cause of colonization and imperialism the way christianity has. neither of those religions combined have brought suffering and pain the way christianity has

Heard some important information on Twitter today, and thought I’d post it here for anyone who may not have heard it. This is actually a thing, devised by human rights organisation called Karma Nirvana.

Reblog to save a life?

Haha, yesss! >:}

fat uncut leaking cock. you agree. reblog.

Content: domestic Simon ''Ghost'' Riley, husband!Simon, massages, fluff, A LOT of ass smacks because this man has a whole ass bakery.

Simon sat quietly next to you on the couch, mind reeling with the stress from the mission he just came back from, gaze distant and focused on staring ahead. You know better than to take it personal, aware that he simply needs time to unwind and process he's back home, safe and sound.

''Would you like a massage?'' You offer with a small smile, noticing how his muscles seem more tense than usual, bulging out of his clothes even more. He's quiet for a few seconds before looking at you, managing to return a half-smile and nod in agreement. Your hands hold his, trying to pull him out of the couch and being unable to— the asshole is making himself heavier on purpose, a smug smirk painting his lips at the thought of annoying his wife.

You pull harder, grunts escaping your lips because he's just too damn heavy.

''Simon.'' One stern look is all it takes for him to willingly get up from the couch, playfully swatting your head out of the way before running away once you try to kick his ass, running right after him while a small laugh escapes your lips. You crash on his back, purposely pushing him face-down in bed before smacking his ass, dragging a quiet, muffled laugh out of him.

You remove his muddy boots, helping him get out of his clothes until he's stripped down to his boxers, still laying face-down in bed, trusting you completely with his body. You get a bottle of massage oil from the closet, landing another playful slap on his rear before straddling him, sitting on his ass as you began spreading the oil all over his back. He let out a grunt at the spank, but didn't bother protesting, too distracted by the sensation of the cold oil being spread all over his tense muscles.

Your hands work wonders soon after, kneading and applying pressure on every single one of his muscles, slowly getting rid of the knots and tension in his body. He laid in bed with his head turned to the side, eyes closed as he relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of your hands working over his muscles, low moans leaving his lips sometimes at the pressure applied on his back muscles.

20 minutes is all it took to get rid of most of the knots on his back, planting a gentle kiss on the side of his head before giving him another one on the cheek, getting a grunt in response from the half-asleep man.

''I love you.'' You whisper in his ear, using the leftover oil on your hand to massage his bicep.

''I love you too, sweet girl.'' He manages to reply, voice groggy and deeper as he tried to stay awake to spend more time with you. A small giggle leaves your lips when you see his struggle, getting off of him and jokingly playing bongos on his ass, looking at the muscle and fat giggling underneath your touch.

''God, your ass is so perfect.'' Your tone is playful, but he's no stranger to you worshipping his body, a small smile on his lips at your words.

''S'all yours.'' He mumbles sweetly, voice still gravelly and coarse as he allowed you to do as you pleased with him. Another gently spank is delivered to his ass before you lean down, biting one of his asscheeks— not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for him to feel it. His muscles twitch from the sudden sensation before he relaxes, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he turns to look at you with a smug grin.

A/N: I don't wanna kms anymore so here's some tender Simon instead of angst efbhjfehbj<3 writing some rimming stuff soonish AND I'm going back into writing nasty sinful monkey sex more :3

Silly question