#I'm SICK

[luxmoogle]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ A q u a ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

[nevermeyers]

“When it's your time to go, make sure you're surrounded by others”

[rosieofcorona]

thinking about solas' "rare and marvelous spirit" comment and how much that truly means. try to imagine how many spirits solas has known in his long life. imagine the depth of his experience, communing with and learning from and befriending them. think of how he respects them, defends them. how he loves them. think of the weight of that understanding, and then put that weight behind his compliment. her singular spirit, out of innumerable others, is rare to him? countless years of wonder in the fade, and her spirit is worth his marvel?

[theroundbartable]

Sick fic except no one is sick.

Merlin is tired of the tavern excuse and at this point, Arthur doesn't really believe the 'gathering herbs' thing either anymore.

So, Merlin tells Arthur he's sick.

Except he didn't account for the fact that Arthur becomes a terrified worryward of a mess. Merlin, thinking he's got some time alone, is now chained to his bed with Arthur feeding him soup and 'checking his temperature', only that Arthur has no clue what he's doing.

Merlin on the other hand can only think of the assassin and.... 'Actually, this is nice.'

[holyblanchett]

Can we just take a moment to discuss how LADY DEATH told Agatha Harkness no one in history has ever gotten special treatment like her??? Do yall know how long that is?? Death has been around since the beginning of time.

[sceletaflores]

thinking about needy art...just so desperate for you :((( always so horny and riled up :((( he needs you so bad he can't help it :(((

we love you girl!!!!!! pls don't die!!!!!!!!

-🧶

anon i was literally just thinking about this omfg we're so connected it's crazy (this lowkey wandered into a bit of puppy!art territory, @fawnnpaws your influence is too great <333)

and you're SO right!!! in my mind this is so married art coded. that man literally worships the ground you walk on, there's nothing he wouldn't do for his WIFE. the woman with HIS last name. the woman that wears HIS ring on your finger. you're his whole world.

you're cooking dinner when the front door creaks open, the sound of art dropping his keys and bag clear from where you're stood at the stove.

he's always a keyed up, horny monster after practice, so you're not surprised when two strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. art clings to you like a second skin, pressing his chest to your back and hooking his chin over your shoulder, a sweet "hey baby," muttered into your hair.

you hum, not looking away from the pasta coming to a boil in front of you. "have a good practice?"

art nods, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your familiar scent. "missed you," he says, voice going all light and airy. it makes you smile, stirring the pasta calmly as art starts grinding against your ass in small circles. you wonder if he even knows he's doing it or if he's more gone than you first thought.

"i did so good today, you'd be so proud of me," he rambles, brushing his lips over your neck as he speaks. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

"yeah? hope you worked up an appetite, it's almost ready." your tone is overly casual, like you're not soaking your panties at the feel of art's thick cock through the thin fabric of your sweats. but it's all part of the game, ignoring him only works him up more.

"i could eat," he pants against your skin, a pointed roll of his hips pushes you closer to the stove. "god, i couldn't stop thinking about you." he groans, finally done pretending that it's dinner he cares about. he trails wet kisses down your neck, his hands slipping up under your shirt to paw at the lacy cups of your bralette.

the pot's water snaps and pops in warning, threatening the bare expanse of your stomach. you push art's hands down but he's not deterred, dropping them to knead at the meat of your hips.

"let's go to bed," he suggests into the crook of your neck, his breathing starting to get a little faster as he grinds against you with a purpose.

it's tempting, but you're not done cooking yet, and you know this won't take long.

"no," you say dismissively, turning the heat down to let the sauce pan on another burner slow to a simmer.

art whines, nuzzling deeper into your neck. his hand slides around, slipping between your legs to rub your cunt through your bottoms. "please?"

you sigh contently at his touch, letting your head drop to his shoulder. you let yourself get lost in him for a few seconds before you push his hand away again and cast your gaze back to the food, "no."

"the couch?" he tries, "it's just right there, in the living room. i can eat you out, i'll make you feel so good."

you bite your lip, stifling a smile at his needy begging. you bob your head side to side lightly, a considering noise passing through your lips before you deny him for the third time, "no."

art swallows, his breath getting shallow. "right here, i could eat you out right here," he rambles, his hips speeding up. you can feel the wetness of his pre-come leaking through his own shorts to seep into yours. "i could fuck you right here, against the counter."

you hum noncommittally, adding more dried oregano. it's quiet, just the sound of art's ragged breathing and the hiss of the boiling water. art takes it upon himself to fill the silence.

"i could," he takes a shuddering breath, "we don't have to fuck, i could just eat you out. i could sit by your feet, you don't have to do anything. i can...i could, i could use your leg."

you almost give in, his sweet voice begging you to let him get his mouth on you too much. you don't have to see his face to know he's gone red and flush, embarrassed but too worked up to stop.

"you want me to abandon dinner because, why? you can't keep your dick down? i'm busy, art."

art’s breath hitches, his hands trembling as they grip your hips. "i’m sorry," he breathes out, though you know he’s anything but. the apology only makes him grind harder, chasing any scrap of attention you might throw his way. “please,” he whimpers, his voice cracking. “i just— i need it so bad. please, baby.”

you click your tongue in disapproval, shaking your head as you turn back to the stove, stirring the sauce with a slow, deliberate motion. “you’re such a mess, art. can’t even wait until dinner’s done before you start acting like a desperate slut, can you?”

art shudders behind you, his grip tightening on your waist as his hips jerk involuntarily. “i’m sorry,” he gasps out for the second time. “i just—fuck, i can’t help it. please, let me—”

"no, if you want to come in here and hump my leg like a desperate puppy, than that's how you're going to come."

art’s whimper is pitiful, his hips stuttering against you, driven by nothing but raw desire. he’s practically drooling, his breath hot and uneven against your neck as he desperately grinds himself against your thigh.

“please, please,” he chants, the word a broken prayer on his lips, but you don’t miss the way he shudders under your cruel tone, his body trembling with anticipation.

“god, you’re pathetic,” you say through a condescending laugh, “you can’t even control yourself for a second, can you? always so eager to make a mess. i should make you clean it up with your tongue.”

art comes in his boxers with a broken whine. the timer goes off a couple seconds later.

[uzukage-naruto]

"Gojo was attached to him like a handler and would take care of him"

I'D LIKE TO BUY A GUN

[pinetreespants]

Day 20 Kiss

[artfulzee]

Do you think they miss it?

[becasbelt]

caitlyn's love languages are 1) physical touch and 2) giving up her gun to help vi

[atomicqueens]

"Three or four houses with different livery, and different banners, and different insignia, all marshaling together. Sadly for them, most of them are there as dragon fodder, and they don't know it." — from House of the Dragon: The House That Dragons Built

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2022– ) | 2x04 "A Dance of Dragons"

[starregulus]

Thinking about how the Foxes constantly let Andrew play games while going through withdrawal and no one probably said anything about it

Would they have let Matt play like that? Or even Seth?

And the way they thought the drugs "helped him" and didn't really want him to come off of them even though he willinging put himself through hell for a game they know he doesn't like (eventhough he does) just for a moment of sobriety. a moment of having control over himself and his thoughts

[monster-disaster]

A monster boyfriend/girlfriend under the bed who takes care of you when you are sick and can't sleep. They pet your hair, give you a massage and check your temperature.

[holyblanchett]

The fact that canonically Lady Death who is a Cosmic being said Agatha Harkness is her scar.

[ugh-my-back]

they're in denial

[the-mighty-e]

Just saying

But the memory sequence was absolutely beautiful

The memories slowly rising faster until they all become overlayed

Romantic or platonic I love Aiden and Ashlyn an unhealthy amount they're so precious