#no one would have survived that

[sail-not-drift]

The Buddietommy in that episode was beyond anything I could have dreamed, we can’t stop winning ❤️

[hinamie]

thank u canon plant nerd megumi for my life

bonus:

[aerequets]

me when im getting refs off pinterest again except this time instead of cute hugs or vintage drawings it's just loid getting beat up by the women in his life

(except anya. the only hits she'll get on him are the emotional ones, which may be arguably worse)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

weird hearing "were you a Theatre Kid" "were you a Sports Kid" "were you a Choir Kid" "were you a Dance Kid" bc no? i mean i did all of that and more but resented ever minute of it? actively avoided sticking with anything? i was a "In This Family After School Activities Are Mandatory Kid"

[lazylittledragon]

i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD

[imagine-too-many-books]

Imagine Annabeth and Percy have a kid early, unplanned and it kinda fucks with their finances so Percy drops out of school to get a job so he can care for the kid and support Annabeth in school. At first he gets a job teaching kids sword fighting but then he hears about underwater welding which pays well because it’s dangerous but Percy is a child of the sea so it’s much less so for him. His boss is even willing to give him flexible hours which means Annabeth doesn’t have to take their kid to class anymore and they can actually afford daycare (why does is it the price of a mortgage nowadays???). A huge financial burden is lifted and Percy doesn’t mind the work so it’s good all the way around.

Fast forward to when Annabeth is done her masters in architecture and lands a job at a top firm. They’ve got savings and have Annabeth’s income to rely on. Percy heads back to school and finishes a degree in marine biology, going on to research some really niche topics like how underwater welding impacts the environment and shifting from there until he’s a well known expert in the field.

Just them finding their way. Supporting each other and landing on their feet no matter what

[lineffability]

I'm personally still stuck in this half-milisecond of Aziraphale thinking lovingly of Crowley in front of jimmified Gabriel, at this point not even sure what's happened to him and if he really remembers nothing, and yet his face slips, all by itself, into this enamored expression as he thinks of his one person that makes everything better when he's with them

[orangechickenpillow]

I'm-- [long foghorn] [glass shattering] [explosion] [gunfire]

Ahem. 🗣Fellas is it gay--

[haunted-xander]

For what do you live?

[asbestos-11]

they're so sick and disgusting, i need to shoot them on sight (said lovingly)

reblogs highly encouraged *cocks gun*

[amaltheas-garden]

when u point out Dany having the power of god x3 to destroy any city she doesn't like might be a bad thing and probably won't be rewarded by the narrative

targies: noooo it will be fine because Dany would NEVER do that she's just too fundamentally GOOD to ever be corrupted by unlimited power 🙃 source: trust me bro

apparently the theme of asoiaf is absolute power is good, actually, we just need to make sure the *right* people have it 😇

[ballad-of-the-lamb]

Anyone tried courting Narinder, how'd they respond? how funny was it :3

no

[captainmaxatx]

Late Mermay idea!

Orca mer Ghost in an aquarium but he is almost always hiding and quite depressed so the aquarium decide to give him a little more enrichment.

With humans lack of mer knowledge they come to the conclusion that because orcas eat seals then surely an orca mer would eat a seal mer. They decide that during closing hours (to avoid guests seeing the blood bath that will surely follow) they will drop a live seal mer into ghosts tank so he has the natural experience of hunting instead of just being fed slabs of meet.

But mer’s don’t eat other mers, regardless of secondary species.

So when seal mer soap is dropped into his tank, ghost just thinks he’s being given a very energetic handsome roommate.

And the humans are confused as to why ghost hasn’t eaten the seal mer yet

[willgrahamscock]

The Titanic is a gravesite not a museum. Going inside of it and “exploring” should be considered disturbing the grave, let the families find peace in knowing their loved ones are at rest, not being desecrated by greedy entitled millionaires.

[sandsorghum]

Clouds & Curtains

husband!Nanami x wife!reader

wc. 1.3k

summary. Perhaps Nanami's approach to...rousing you in the mornings has changed over the years.

tags. Established relationship, Domestic bliss | Romance | Smut | Body (& Soul)Worship | Mentions of Nanami wanting to be a father

a/n: Super soft, super indulgent piece. Have your cake and eat it nanami girlies. Sometimes i just need to write him a love letter ok

Prologue

Back when you'd just begun to be intimate with each other, Nanami tended to be a little embarrassed about his subconscious (but hardly subtle) desires for you. He would rather suffer his internal, infernal dilemma than disrupt your rest. But he couldn't quite control his urges, squirming between decency and depravity, not when you'd rub up against him, so innocuous and merciless.

It was a hard habit to shake; how Nanami felt he ought to earn your every quiver against him, every whimper, however much he yearned to feel you tremble at his moans at any given moment. It was codified in him, there was a time and a place and patterns to follow, before he could permit himself the pursuit of your shared pleasures.

Of course, you'd unveil him in the evenings, the privilege of your touch stripping bare the prerogatives of his flesh. You unraveled him, his reticence, his reasoning, his very capacity for speech, by braiding your breath and fingers with his, in the friction-begetting-friction tangle of your lips and limbs together.

Yet he still thinks of these mornings, that find the two of you entwined, as an undeserved luxury. So Nanami would do his best instead to focus on your face, how sweet your peaceful expression was. It would be wicked of him not to cherish this, he'd chastise himself for wanting more, for wanting to drown in your adoring gaze, for wanting to return it with his own hungry one, body and spirit beggared by the night, by the hours not spent beheld by you.

Nanami assumed the beauty and tenderness of your countenance would quell, or could sate his appetites, would tame the primal stirrings in his belly. But nothing could be further from the truth, in fact they had the opposite, compounding effect; a lump in his throat would rise, and his desperation would thicken till he could only helplessly rut his hips against you.

And then your eyelids would flutter open, and in the crease of your knowing smile, all his definitions, his distinctions, all that distance between need and greed would collapse with a single kiss.

Years later, and your husband is so absolutely shameless about his...early head starts to the day. He pulls you into him, snug against the cleft of your ass cheeks, content to let your scent and radiance seep through the thin fabric and warm him in a way the sun, in its reluctance behind the clouds and curtains, can never hope to.

He stares at the petulance drooping off the petals of your lips, rose bud coiled tight before daybreak can coax it to unfurl for strobes of gold. Nanami is a patient man, too patient you've often thought, yet you feel his phantom touch, a tender sweep of your mouth, a zephyr whispering in the wings, billowing brocade and swelling muslin, ghost pulling you through the gauze of sleep.

You shift against Nanami to hear him sigh your name, soft and distant, thick with slumber and affection and it's this which rouses you more, not merely his growing rigidity pressed to the curves of you. Although, it helps, feeling every inch of his hunger like this, in a slow swirl and pinch at your waist, the gentlest rocking as your breasts are cradled in his palms, familiar persuasion pebbling your areola. You know he dreams of them swollen with milk, that all your memories of his teeth are girded by the desire for them to be suckled by the most innocent of mouths, baring only gums and tiny wails. Your nubs stiffen and a small smile stretches across your face at the thought that with his wish to grow a family fulfilled, he might find also a small regret, of his monopoly of your mounds contested by another, to whom he owes the genesis of your body's generosity, that sweet fullness dribbling, stolen, into your husband's mouth, enticing in its envy.

This prospect of hypocrisy is to be savoured for another day, far down the road. This morning brings neither hesitation nor urgency, all syrupy light and his maple gaze, the languor of his limbs splayed around you to be treasured just as much as the gradual grind of his cock. There's a certain smugness in its slowness, as with the self-assuredness of his thumb circling a bare sliver of your skin.

A familiar motion that stirs a memory, fuchsia-tinted for the both of you. You remember your then boyfriend stammering and scarlet-tipped, matched to the rosy tips of his ears, excuses lost in the shuffle of sheets and stutter of hips.

"I-it's just-just the t-temp-ah-temperatuur," he'd slurred, the excuse as thin and transparent as the sticky film he laved across your throat, dangerously growing gossamer and feebler with every twitch and each strong buck against your body.

"Mmhmm," you'd hum, carnal ache turning you conciliatory. Such complacency. You had been the one to smirk back then, canines gleaming coy, as you offered ruin in the guise of reprieve.

"Want me to warm you up, darling?" Hands already reaching for him, mind already marveling before your fingers could be reacquainted with their hubris, his girth.

"P-please, anythin-nghing" he'd panted, all wide-eyed desperation to be devoured, sweet thing.

You'd been such a fool.

To not know not greed was a two-way street, this ravenous osmosis, this vicious ouroborous.

You think perhaps, in fact, you got the worse end of the deal, trembling against your spouse now, thighs clamped together.

"My dear," Nanami hums, a teasing timbre dripping honey as he sinks his fingers in, "always so ready for me."

You squirm, eyes screwed shut and fisting the sheets, trying to grasp the pale image of the boy who'd once writhed and blushed beneath you, a spectre all but vanquished. You miss him, sometimes.

You arch your back into Nanami, the way you know he's addicted to, just to hear him groan your name, ragged with the dregs of self-restraint or slumber, you're not sure which, but it's a close enough echo to send pleasure juddering through you, the recollection churning hot in your gut, of when he was wrapped around your finger, instead of your cunt around his.

"Sweetheart."

The tenderness of his tone pries your lids open. He doesn't have to ask, doesn't have to say anything but he does, because he knows you are too stubborn to ask for what you need to hear.

"My love."

He claims your gasp, in the crush and curl of his mouth, in the crook of his fingers.

"My girl."

Another smattering of kisses, chasing the flutters of your belly down, down, down to your creases weeping nectar. He licks a whine from you, pitching high into the air, his husky moan vibrating within you.

"My wife."

You feel the hot gust of Nanami's breath over your clit, as he pauses.

"My wife."

There's a reverence as he repeats himself, pathetic attempts to vanquish his disbelief, wonder glistening in his gold-flecked irises, staring at you in awe, searching for proof this isn't some frenzied fever dream of his.Of course, he finds it in your own unwavering eyes.

You've been such a fool.

There, in the locked gaze your shared history glimmers, that shy boy paralyzed by his worship of you, prostrate as the man before your parted legs now, offering his soul, his past, his future.

You reach for him, and he surges upwards. The collision is wave returning and rising from oceans, over and over, is starburst, is incandescence, is the fission of atoms never, ever meant to be split.

It burns away all notions of him as your acolyte or priest, any concept of deity and devotee.

"My life," he breathes into you, and you feel the throb in your ribs, the furnace of his lungs.

"My life," you repeat to your husband.

Adam. Prometheus. Kento.

This morning and many after, he lavishes you with irreverence, a ravishing of irrelevance; his goddess, his woman, his joy -all that matters is that you are his and he is yours; Together, you forge a paradise that exists for as long as the melding of your souls persist, boundless as horizons and sure as sunrises.

@houseofsolisoccasum

[lolottes]

Ida is Constantine's good ex.

They separated on good terms after a few months because Ida wanted to start a family and not Constantine (for obvious reasons). Then, despite Ida's efforts to keep in touch as a long-distance friend, she quickly no longer received any news from him.

So when she sees him barely older and seeming lost in his town… she takes him for a ghost who has retained a very human appearance. She rushes to him because she is surely not the only one to notice the presence of a “tourist” in town.

She takes a minute to pity him and apologize. He hadn't ignored him, he was dead!!! Then start explaining to him why as a ghost it's not safe for him here even though it's very nice of him to visit <3

Constantine had not informed Ida about magic, after all it was one of his exes from before his cancer (a little near the time when he stopped responding to her) and his first triple sale of soul for escape death. But he knows Ida well enough not to contradict her. In addition, she gives him all the information in flash notes that he is looking for.

…

Okay, he also missed Ida. It felt SO strange to see her old. But she apparently hadn't lost anything from a mental point of view

This is how Constantine was invited to have tea and catch up on lost time at Ida's in addition to having a more complete debrief of the Amity Park situation