#Enemy Positioning

[fogaminghub]

🐜✨ Master the flanking mission in Empire of the Ants with our detailed guide! From strategic scouting to perfect execution, we cover everything you need to know to lead your ant colony to success. Don’t miss out on these essential tips!

[keferon]

Don’t mind me I just like to see him go bananas about cartoonish Autobot rules

Maaan…..if Prowl was in tfp he would spontaneously combust at least once a day

[demigods-posts]

just imagine all of camp half-blood knowing that percy and annabeth clearly have a thing for each other. not because of their banter that toes the line of flirting. not because of their countless hugs. not because of their refusal to go anywhere without each other. but because they watched annabeth kiss percy on the cheek. and both of them turn away to smile to themselves.

[nekrosmos]

[hungharrington]

hi, gorgeous. currently daydreaming about steve’s innocent, shy girl climbing on top of him while he’s in a chair and she’s ready to ride him but his huge hands settle on her hips to stop her and she’s looking at him all confused and ready to do her part but he just says “just sit here and look pretty for me,” before he begins to absolutely pound into her, one hand on her hips and the other holding her jaw to make her look at him. he’s just praising the hell out of his little angel baby for taking him so good because he’s just so big. the mental image of his furrowed brows and clenched jaw as he watches her completely melt on his lap from pleasure has me clutching my peARLS

– sittin’ pretty

U KNOW WHAT!! UR THE DEVIL! THE DEVIL!! anyways this request had me feral the moment i started writing it… it gets a little soft at the end tho fem!reader, light choking, hella praise kink, what the request says basically <3 and around 1.7k MDNI this entire blog is 18+

It’s hard to press down your shyness as you tug the tight elastic of your underwear down your calves. They pool at your ankles. You step out of them and resist the urge to cave in and cover yourself. 

“C’mon, c’mere sweet girl,” Steve says softly, his hands smoothing over the top of his tan hairy thighs. He pats them to urge you over. 

Everything feels a bit stilted as you tiptoe over to the big comfy armchair he’s seated on, with his thighs parted. You can feel a surge of slick between your thighs at the sight of his aching cock, the head all pink and drippy just for you. It lies back against his happy trail, the vein on the side prominent. 

Steve offers you his hand, palm up. You take it and let your knees gently find either side of his hips, hovering hesitantly above him. Heat swirls between you, mixing with the fog of lust that emanates heavily from Steve. His adoring face gazes up at you, but his are eyes dark in a way that makes your tummy twist up. 

“Hi, pretty.” He murmurs, guiding your face down for a kiss. You sigh into it sweetly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You whisper back, against his lips. His kiss and reverent gaze give you courage, leaning back to plant one hand on his knee. Your other hand reaches between your two bodies and curls around his throbbing cock. It’s warm and hard, twitching at the sudden stimulation. Steve hisses lowly, his tummy flexing as pleasure jolts through him. 

Even though you’re shy, that doesn’t mean you’re not impatient. Today, there will be no working him up til he’s begging to be inside you, no matter how much you desperately want to. Instead, you waste no time, tilting your hips forward to let the head of his cock catch against your entrance in a way that makes you moan. Your thighs ache a little with the slow pace you lower yourself — but Steve’s cock is always a stretch. 

It stings, just the slightest, but enough to make you revel in it. You sink down, hand shifting forward to hold his hip to prop yourself up, and your eyes flutter shut in pure ecstasy as his hard cock stretches you open— unaware of how Steve fights to keep his eyes open, drinking in every minuscule expression on your face. 

“That’s it, honey,” He coos, sweeping his hand up your hip to tug you down an inch more. You mewl, body shuddering as you clench around him. It feels fucking mind-melting how good he feels filling you up. “That’sssss it.” 

You’re whimpering by the time he’s fully hilted in you, your thighs pressed down against his own. Steve’s panting a bit, hairy chest rising and falling as he struggles to keep himself in control. You’re so wet, so warm, and god, you’re still so shy even when you’re sitting on his cock — averting your eyes even as your tight little hole clenches around him. When did he get so lucky?

Try as you might, there’s not stopping the pitiful gasp that comes out when you lift yourself back up, his cock gliding almost all the way out of your cunt. You can feel the mess you’re already making on him, can already feel the subtle ache in your thighs but none of it deviates you from your plan. You’re going to ride your boyfriend like there’s no fucking tomorrow. 

But right as you prep yourself to sink back down, Steve’s hands stop you, shooting out to grab you by the hips. You pause. Shyness creeps back in. 

“Wha…? Is something wrong?” You ask. 

Steve’s quick to comfort, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek. “Hey, hey, everything’s fine. I just—“ He shift his hips up a bit and you shiver, eyes fluttering closed without thinking. When you open them again, he’s grinning. 

“I just want you to sit here and look pretty for me, hm?” He leans up to kiss your cheek and it makes you entirely too distracted for what happens. 

His tummy clenches, muscles tightening, as his hips suddenly snap up, thrusting his cock back deep into you. You squeal. 

“Steve!” Your hands propel forward, grasping his shoulders, but he doesn’t pause. His hands on your hips tighten as he holds you in place, drilling up into your wet cunt, hard and fast. Pleasure dribbles through your core, hot and melty. His thighs slap against your own, causing them to buckle and you sink down a little lower — only forcing his cock deeper inside you. 

You whine, all of a sudden overwhelmed, and tuck your face away— all too aware of how every time he fucks up into you, you make a needy little uh. 

And, well, that just won’t do. With one hand keeping your hips secure, his other wanders up, creeping in around your neck. Even as he fucks you roughly, his touch is still gentle. His big hands can stretch across the expanse of your jaw— and he uses it to coax your head up. You’re already looking teary eyed, warm enough in the face that he can feel it with his hand, all from how much you’re enjoying it. Steve loves it. 

“Baby,” He manages to rasp out sweetly. You gasp, hiccupy and high pitched, embarrassed by the wet squelchy noises he’s fucking out of your cunt. “Look at you, my baby. Doing so good for me, huh? Taking it so well, angel.” 

You lean into the hand around your throat further, letting him curl his fingers around it a bit tighter. One of your hands flies up to grasp his wrist, needing, craving the connection. 

“Steve,” you cry, delirious from the pleasure. His cock fills you over and over, unravelling you from the inside. “Steve,” You repeat his name uselessly, mouth hanging open as a whiney moan takes over. 

“I know, I know.” He coos, sweet as he can be while ruining you on his cock. He’s got a furrow in his brow, his jaw set, perfect brown eyes searching your face— always looking for which button to press next, which way to make it better for you. God, you love him. 

“So fucking good, isn’t it angel?” He grunts. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt, just made to take my cock, isn’t she?” 

“Yes!” you keen, the words tearing from your mouth. “Yes, yes, yes, fuck,” Pathetic whimpery noises flow out freely, your grip around his wrist tightening as you feel heat gather low in your tummy. 

“G-God, fuck,” Steve groans, the first hint of desperation leaking into his words. His hand around your throat tightens in the slightest, a soft pressure that has your head spinning. “Can fucking feel you getting close.” 

His words make you moan, your thighs slipping further down — your hand shoots out to brace against the arm of the chair, desperate to keep him going, to reach your peak. 

“Your—“ A whimper slips into his voice. “Fuck. Your pussy gets all tight when she wants to cum— y’wanna cum?” 

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished his sentence. With how hard he’s fucking you, hips thrusting up against yours, it’s a wonder he can even see it. You whimper out a “Yes.” just in case. 

“I know you do.” He groans loudly. “Deserve to, too. You’ve been so good, so fucking good, yeah?” 

His hand holding your hip slips forward, snaking towards your clit and pleasure twists the coil in your tummy up tighter and tighter. His rough thumb pushes against it, sloppy but effective. You wail. 

“Y’deserve to cream all over my cock like a good girl, don’t you?” He rasps, throat a bit wrecked from every sweet sultry noise thats passes his lips. 

You’re not even sure if it’s words coming out your mouth anymore, just a whiney mess of yes’s tangled up in your moans. Steve whines, the rhythm of his strokes beginning to falter as his own orgasm begins to rear up. You whine and your hips move on their own accord— bouncing down on his cock to meet his thrusts midway. 

“Yes, yes, fuck, you’re so good, y’look fucking perfect bouncing on my cock,” Steve rambles, that perfect pussy-drunk expression beginning to take over him. His moans turn to whines and with one desperate whimper of your name, you topple like a house of cards. 

Pleasure unravels you. Your hips stutter and drop down, trying to cram every inch of Steve into you as you can, while your other hand claws weakly at his tummy. Heat scorches every nerve inside you, delicious and overwhelming all at once. 

The scratch of your nails, the clench of your wet cunt, the pitiful crying noise you make, all of it sets Steve off — his back arching and hips bucking up, trying to get more of your hot, wet pussy. His face screws up, a high whine tearing out his throat as his hands grapple to circle around your back, trying to get you closer.

It’s a sweat press of skin, chest to chest. You twitch and moan, face tucked away safely in his neck, as Steve lets all his noises out into the curve of your own. It’s deeply intimate — enough to make your shyness peek back up when Steve digs his face out after a minute of laboured breathing. His face is pink, his expression blissful. 

“You,” He huffs tiredly, eyes scanning your face worriedly. “You okay? Wasn’t too rough?” 

You melt a bit, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Yeah, I’m okay.” You chuckle. Nerves rear their ugly head within you before you can flatten them. “Was I— that was good?” You check. 

Steve laughs softly, nuzzling in closer to you. He smells fantastic. You can’t help how you mirror him, nosing along his cheek, letting your eyes slip shut. 

“Baby, I think you melted my brain.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

[lgbtqtext]

[handweavers]

working class nonblack people when faced with the plain truth that We have more in common with working class black people anywhere in the world than we will EVER have with the bourgeoisie of our own ethnic groups in our own countries have 2 options: to choose to stand in solidarity with our black comrades and combine our numbers so that we may work together for the liberation of all working peoples, or attempt to "raise" ourselves by stepping on our black comrades and ultimately fail in enacting real change for ourselves let alone anyone else. your anger toward black people is misdirected, dangerous and reactionary, and too many of you fall for these attempts to distract you from who the real enemy is, and that enemy is not working class black people in any country. fucking get it together

[mikasasrippedtoenail]

A woman would call the most well articulated essay you've ever read a "ramble" while a man would call his shittyreddit post an "intellectual thinkpiece"

[clumsypuppy]

aughg

[incomingalbatross]

Don't quite know how to put this but there are certain story beats that, in order for me to actually like/admire the story, specifically have to be accomplished without being a big deal.

Like, does your story present ordinary, mundane, even ridiculous people as possessing worth and dignity? Cool. Does it pat itself on the back about doing that? Unfortunately, that has circled back around to patronizing.

Does your character make the lives of bit characters and nameless bystanders a priority, even when it distracts them from Important Plot Things? Nice! Does your character make a big production of/express a lot of angst about doing that? This only barely edges out "leaving them to die" in terms of my respect for said character.

Ordinary people are just as valuable and important as Our Heroes. But the narrative should have enough conviction about that to take it for granted, and let the audience catch up if need be. A Hero should definitely take it for granted, unless they're still in the process of becoming heroic.

Otherwise, I'm left with the sneaking suspicion that the writers don't really see this themselves.

[shushmal]

okay you know the american express skate shop commercial?

eddie who co-ownes a skate shop despite having only been on skateboard twice in his life (he broke his arm the second time) but gareth loves skating more than drums, and the band never went anywhere but his skate career DID, so eddie somehow wound up taking care of gareth's shop while he travels the world breaking his bones. eddie's clientele is a pretty narrow group, until fucking steve harrington himself (his hs school crush) comes into the shop asking for a board for his daughter.

months of awkward flirting later, eddie finds out max is a big fan of gareth and that night eddie is curled around gareth's ankles chanting "please please please please please please please" and gareth throws up his hands and agrees to meet them.

that weekend eddie happily gets to hang off steve's shoulder while gareth and max are tearing up a half pipe. max is happy, so steve is happy, and gareth is impressed with max's talent and keeps getting more and more into coaching her through a few little tricks, and eddie may never get into steve's pants, but anything is worth seeing steve smile, so happy and excited for his kid and—oh fuck, eddie's in love fucking shitting fuck

meanwhile, steve spends each morning lamenting to robin as they get their bakery ready for the day how he'll die alone because eddie won't ask him out and robin keeps yelling at him, all exasperated "why don't YOU ask him out then??" and steve pouts because that's no fun

anyways one day eddie wanders into the shop not even realizing that steve works there (luckily he's doing a delivery atm), and robin sees eddie from all the way in the back and beelines it out so eddie just randomly gets accosted by the bread lesbian hissing "i need you to dick down and marry steve already or i WILL kill him, i'll drown him in the sourdough."

eddie walks back out thinking robin's some kind of prophet or psychic, he has no idea that she actually knows steve.

but who is he to argue with a fate-sayer? and he fulfills part of the prophecy that very night.

[murasaki-cha]

Let's ignore that completely cryptic and very uneasy comment from Arnold that is 1000% foreshadowing for the future for a moment and let's focus on this gorgeous pic of them laying down next to each other and Arnold holding Rishe's hand and gazing at her with so much longing I can't 😭😭😭💕💕💕

[sunlight-shunlight]

suddenly sitting up awake at 12am: i think thedas has a genre of memento mori types of paintings, where they put a skull in with some fancy still life stuff to indicate that the patron/artist is wealthy, but also Pious and thinking about Inevitable Death rather than material things (even though they're lovingly rendering all the silverware and expensive fruits and lace tablecloths or whatever)

BUT. since andraste is associated with fire, this is done by including like a lit candle or an urn of ashes or something in the composition, to show the piety and focus on the impermanence of life! i think this would be common in orlais especially. presumably tevinter is trying not to play up the "whoops we turned the saviour into a burnt kebab :)" angle in their religion, so they'd have... idk. a knife or something? to indicate the sword of mercy as the pious symbol of death rather than the fire itself?

[booksandmore]

something about denki as a character that i am very fascinated by is that he is a Normal Kid. a normal cheerful energetic kid who loves his friends and gets scared and who hesitates and tries his best. people complain about how he doesn’t utilize his quirk to its fullest potential, but also. he’s a kid. a student. who attends UA specifically to LEARN how to properly use his quirk to save people. he’s not a prodigy or crazy smart or reckless or overly passionate like his other classmates, and he doesn’t need to be

in particular i really think this part of his character doesn’t get explored enough when it comes to his relationships with other people. like, he has a powerful quirk, he’s attending his dream school, in the class that is constantly in the limelight, and no one doubts that he’s exactly where he should be or that he should be anything other than a hero. is that not everything that midoriya or monoma or shinsou wanted? is that not what makes denki’s acceptance of shinsou so impactful?

[damienshaas]

#they really did that

[bucksaiga]

Someone suggested that the thing that makes Buck spiral is that Tommy has a "reputation" around Los Angeles and I had a nice chuckle over that.

If those men are slut4slut who the fuck actually cares lol

You can't spell home without h-o and e anyway so <3