#dragging anchor

[bugwolfsstuff]

Headcanoning the Stolls as sons of chthonic Hermes and Katie as a daughter of Demeter Erinys (Demeter when she was grieving Persephone and killing everything) is fun because

A. using the epithets gives ways to explore powers for non-big three kids (THEY ARE CHILDREN OF GODS WHY THE FUCK CAN THE HERMES KIDS ONLY OPEN LOCKS AND RUN 'FAST')

B. Demeter got another one of her daughters falling for a Chthonic dude and she does not like it.

[barrenclan]

I wish this wasn't a warrior cats webcomic bc it's so good and I want to recommend it to people with negative interest in warrior cats 😭😭😭😭

I also wish this wasn't a Warriors webcomic, don't worry.

[tiredqueermushroom]

Something Something, the parallels between Laudna sacrificing parts of herself that will lead to her inevitable destruction in order to protect Imogen. Vs Dorian telling Orym that he doesn't need to sacrifice parts of himself in order to protect everyone (him) and that he's strong enough to stand with him instead of behind.

[abyssal-ilk]

trespasser wedding with sera and my viv/bastien kid (who has been named luciana and nicknamed lucia/lucy/luce!! inspired by @kitkaedatidler who suggested lucienne 🫶!) hits so different with the added tension of lucia being bastien's bastard. in what i have for her so far in terms of lore, bastien's son and lucia's half-brother, laurent, raises lucia's status as a recognized bastard/potential heir as it was bastien's wish before he died, and it causes. so many interpersonal issues for lucia. namely with the fact that since lucia is both inquisitor and has the blood of such a prestigious family, there is a constant pressure from other noble families of orlais to try and form alliances through marriage. lucia has no interest in becoming any more involved in orlesian politics than she already is, has no interest in marrying or having children with any of them, and it is a massive strain on her when she's already struggling with everything going on with the inquisition, solas, and the anchor actively trying to kill her.

sera's solution is to, of course, marry her. no bigger way to flip the finger to the entire court of orlais than to have the inquisitor marry an elven fereldan woman who fucks over nobles on a daily basis.

[chocosvt]

:]

[gaymarisa]

most fuckable touhou spell card. tell me

[blusandbirds]

i started suits just cuz i thought it be a whatever lawyer show but then they hit me with a big messy gay friendship break up. “i don’t wanna live in a world where we’re not tight,” trevor says. “then kill yourself,” mike says.

after what i assume is at least multiple months of not talking, trevor calls mike up again to bail him out of jail because mike is the only one he thinks would come for him. mike does. trevor gets held hostage for drug money and he begs mike not to come for him even when his lifes on the line. mike does. “i put you in trouble just by hanging out with you” “then why’d you do it?” (because he couldn’t stay away.)

[seud-luachmhor]

Our whole house has been unwell this past fortnight, so my granny (80, loves a sloe gin, appreciates naked bums in museum statues) has been bringing us treats to make us feel better. This morning, she dropped us off a cake she'd made, wrapped in this very Tim-esque linen tea towel.

I dunno how accurate it still is as im sure this is an ancient print but it got me thinking.

In the beginning of Them™, Tim and Anne passing paperwork between their offices - all offical and above board except for a little flag scribbled on a scrap piece tucked in the pile of manilla folders. A meaningless doodle should anyone else's eyes happen upon it, but the message perfectly clear to the recipient; their own little code.

A simple 'affirmative' or 'negative', or a coy 'stop carrying out your intentions and watch for my signals'.

'My vessel is stopped and making no way through the water' for a clear afternoon schedule?

'Keep clear of me, I am engaged in pair trawling' when Tim just couldn't get out of back to back meetings.

(I'm not even going to mention 'I require a tug'...)

They were definetly up to some Cute Enough to Kill shenanigans, so I guess I'm now headcannoning this.

[saptaincwan]

i need a 4 hour long video essay on ouat but done by someone who actually likes the show

[abyssal-ilk]

i cannot be thinking about solas dragon age and taashath adaar right now i just woke up. i cannot be doing this rn.

[rouge-the-bat]

the adhd-fueled desperation to create for hyperfixation vs my adhd struggle to do anything or even decide between the million ideas i have is my own personal hell. im dying squirtle

[ii-zi]

Why is apologizing and explaining urself n ur feelings without sounding like a sad, pathetic wet rat so difficult

[oldtestleper]

all that shit would have never happened if they had followed OSHA guidelines

[skaiawards]

I used to live in this abomination of a congressional district.

Thinking about how every major city (except fort worth) in Texas is blue, votes democrat in every election, is majority liberal/left-leaning. It's driving me insane okay. The majority of Texans live in or around the major cities. Land does not vote.

75% of Texans live in BLUE!!!

This makes me want to put a toaster in the bath tub okay bye!!!

[mw00nie]

before you and nanami started dating, you thought you had him all figured out.

quiet. composed. polite to a fault. the kind of man who holds the door open for strangers and tips too well. the kind of man who never interrupts, never forgets birthdays, never texts past ten unless it’s an emergency.

you thought you knew what kind of lover he’d be. careful. respectful. maybe even a little restrained.

you were so wrong.

because nanami kento is the definition of ���gentleman in the streets and freak in the sheets.” not the loud kind. not the messy, aggressive kind. he doesn’t degrade. doesn’t spit unless you ask. doesn’t choke unless you beg. and even then, he makes you say please.

but he knows how to ruin you. with quiet control. with devastating precision.

he learns you like a language. reads you like scripture. he notices the smallest things. the shift in your breathing when his hand rests on your thigh, the way your hips tilt slightly when you want more. he catalogs it all. stores it away. and when you’re under him, you feel it. every inch of that studied, focused attention.

he fucks like he’s solving a problem he already knows the answer to. his fingers are experts. his mouth is lethal.

and the worst part? he says the filthiest things in the gentlest tone, like he’s giving a lecture. like it’s all just matter-of-fact.

“you’re soaking,” he’ll murmur, two fingers teasing your entrance. “i’ve barely touched you.”

“there it is,” he’ll say when he finds that spot inside you, the one that makes your back arch and your thighs tremble. “i thought so.” “you can take more, can’t you? i know you can.”

he never loses composure. he doesn’t need to. he’s in control, always. he’ll have you shaking, begging, gripping the sheets like you’re drowning, and he’ll still be fully clothed, sleeves rolled up, watch ticking on his wrist.

he praises you like it’s a prayer. “good girl. just like that.” “you’re being so patient for me.” “look at you. you’re so gorgeous when you fall apart.”

and when he finally fucks you, it’s deep and slow and ruthless in its restraint. like he’s savoring every drag, every clench, every sound you make. he doesn’t just chase his own pleasure. he chases yours. insists on it. he’ll edge you until you’re crying, then kiss the tears from your cheeks and ask, softly, “do you want to cum now?” as if he hasn’t earned the right to decide for you. as if it’s still your choice.

he’ll hold your face in one hand while he pushes into you, thumb resting at your jaw. not to grip. not to control. just to feel you. to anchor you.

you’ve never been so exposed. so undone. and he never rushes. never gets sloppy. even when he’s close, even when he’s quiet and tense and thrusting just a little harder, a little deeper. he still holds your gaze. still whispers, “breathe.” “you’re okay.” “i’ve got you.”

and when it’s over, when you’re limp and dazed and boneless beneath him, he pulls you into his chest and strokes your spine like you’re something delicate. something treasured. he doesn’t gloat. doesn’t tease. he just kisses your forehead and says, “you needed that.” like he planned it. like he’s known for days.

you thought you knew him. but the truth is, nanami’s the kind of man who thanks you after eating you out for half an hour, who ruins you with his hands and then helps you into the shower. he’ll say “may i?” like he’s asking permission to wreck your entire evening. and when you say yes, he will. completely. beautifully. quietly.a freak. but always polite. always in control. always him.

[maskedbyghost]

+18, mdni

He stops with a sharp breath, his hands locking around your hips, fingers digging in hard. He’s close—too close—and you can feel it in the way his thighs tense under you, in the way his chest rises unevenly.

"Wait," Simon rasps as his one hand leaves your hip and finds your face, pulling you down until your mouth is on his.

It’s that lazy kind of kiss—lazy and wet, all tongue, just the way you love it. His lips are warm, soft, and parting with a hum when your teeth scrape just a little. He kisses you like he’s trying to catch his breath through you, like if he slows it down, he might not cum right then and there.

Your body doesn’t get the memo.

You're already soaking, but that kind of kiss? That slow, wet drag of his tongue against yours? It makes you clamp down around him so tight he chokes on a moan.

“Fuckin’—love,” he grits out against your mouth, voice rough and cracking. “Stop squeezin’ me—I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

You smile into the kiss, smug and breathless. “Then stop kissing me like that.”

He stares at you for a split second—just one—and then drags you back down, kissing you deeper, messier, like he’s punishing you for talking back.

You keep squeezing.

He bucks once, twice, hips jerking under you like he’s losing the fight. "You fuckin'—ngh—"

You feel it when he gives in.

His head drops back, jaw slack, hands gripping your ass like he’s trying to anchor himself. You ride it out slow, lips still brushing his, feeling him pulse inside you while you grin like a little menace.

“You’re evil,” he mutters, breathless, his eyes half-lidded.

“And you’re terrible at resisting me.”

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gooood morninggg

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