#old ass man.

[krissonlythoughts]

i got reminded of tsp

[avrorean]

Humans tended to get better prices than elves in Orlais, even in a smaller city like Val Firmin, so Solas passed Nanna a few coppers (that he’d gotten from Varric) for the crepe stand. The seller, a young woman of no more than 35, nearly tripped over herself to offer Nanna a price well below the market value. When Nanna handed over the coin and their hands brushed, the young crepe seller’s face flushed red. She then offered Nanna something from her "rare stocks" which she apparently kept in her living quarters above the stand. Nanna politely declined, the woman looked heartbroken, and the exchange ended.

Solas watched the whole thing with his brow furrowed and his mouth slightly open. When Nanna returned with his crepe, he held his hands up.

“Why did you not go with her? She was lovely and harmless, and you could have passed me the food before you left.” Speaking of, he took the crepe before it could cool. “Is it because she is Orlesian?” He glanced back at the forlorn crepe seller. “Is it her age?”

Solas narrowed his eyes, raising the crepe to hide a bit of the sly smile threatening to break out. “Nanna,” he said, “how old do you think I am?”

They’d be fine as long as she didn’t ask him how old he thought she was.

She had been looking forward to this. For all of the tales of excess and needless extravagance she had heard of Orlais from every Fereldan she had ever known (and, granted, seen herself), Nanna found she quite enjoyed how they handled some of their food, and their creative use of sweets in particular. She’d been absolutely enamored by those spicy candied nuts they’d served at Halamshiral, and this little venture through Val Firmin with Solas had revealed a prime opportunity for them both.

Nanna watched at the vendor’s stall with an excited sort of fascination as the woman rolled the egg mixture into shape with a fast and practiced familiarity, the skill of which clearly well tended as she layered in fruit and cream and honey to Nanna’s own. She liked learning these new, little things. And though she’d noted the woman’s glances to her as she worked, Nanna’s attention had been firmly elsewhere. The exchange afterward had been short once the crepes had been made, and Nanna did try to be kind in her refusal, but other than that she hadn’t given it another thought.

Solas, on the other hand, seemed to have taken another view of the matter, and his question was the only thing to give her pause. Nanna rolled her neck loosely to the side to give him a dry look.

“Was I meant to leave you in the streets to run off with a woman whom I hardly just met?” she asked with a pointed incredulity, only briefly glancing back at the disheartened vendor. “Her age has naught to do with it - if anything, she seems near an age with the Inquisitor, and she is hardly older than I am. Neither of which is the point. I did not come for a dalliance, I came to try one of these.”

As though to emphasize her point, Nanna plucked one of the thinly sliced strawberries out from the open lid, and waved it pointedly toward him in emphasis  before popping it in her mouth.

There was a part of her that was beginning to regret her mischief at the Winter Palace. Not a particularly large part, but even so. It had been great fun to watch her friend drunkenly try to pick someone out of the crowd of equally drunk devotees of the Empire to dance with her, and sharing secret, laughing looks across the room with Leliana, but now she wondered if she should not have just taken one of the dances and gotten it over with. As now it seemed Solas was treating the issue of her supposed lovelessness as a matter of pride to remedy.

But his question, sly though the tone may be, gave her pause. Nanna looked at him for a moment, thoughtful. It struck her quite suddenly that she hadn’t known the answer to this beforehand. So with a careful shift in her grip around the crepe, she met the mocking glint in his eyes with a squint, leaning in slightly to get a solid look into his face as though each little crease in his skin or number of freckles was as discerning a factor as rings on a tree.

“Somewhere around… your fiftieth year, perhaps? Early so, I suppose.” She shrugged, and returned her attention to her sweet prize. As good as she hoped. “Why? Was I near enough?”

[corvid-khaos]

fionna and cake but simon drops increasingly wild anecdotes about his life

[lucidpeech]

against all odds, we all survived, together.

[mugiwara-lucy]

Kamala will make the FUNNIEST president in all of American history 😂

[shotmrmiller]

your superior finding out about the secret praise kink you didn't know had a name because you'd always been called an over achiever, a goody two shoes. never gave anyone any trouble, nose burrowed in a book since you had knobby knees and a library card.

you'd thought it normal that the apples of your cheeks burned when praised after giving your teacher the drawing you'd made for them the night before. that heat spread from the center of your chest up when your first boyfriend/girlfriend whistled at the sight of you outside of uniform. that warmth settles in your belly when you get a pat on the back from your platoon leader firm enough to force the air out of your lungs because you'd disassembled and cleaned a glock with the ease of a professional.

apparently it wasn't.

after weeks of training with the fabled task force, weeks of sharing elbow room with the team, weeks of soaking up the dizzying praise from the captain ("did real good out there, eh? can always count on you." you didn't question the throb betwixt your thighs, taking care of it with a cute little bullet like you've always done since joining the military)

you're confronted by the worst of the lot. ghost catches you in a break room, your back to him, hands clutching a cup of coffee that's more sludge than liquid, its warmth barely seeping through the styrofoam.

his figure fills the doorway, shoulders nearly brushing the frame. your first thought is that his brows aren't twisted together and he lacks that cold, blank look in his eyes so your death isn't in the nearest of futures. the second is that when he's not fully covering his face, the outline of his jaw is quite visible, looking sharp enough to cut.

then he crosses his sculpted arms over his chest, seams straining against the expanse of his muscles, head tipped to the side.

he moves with the keen curiosity of a predator sniffing around a newborn fawn, gaze intense yet inquisitive, assessing your every detail with a menacing interest.

"you ever gonna tell me you've a praise kink, bird?" the question sends a chill through your veins before turning into a fiery rush as it races at twice the normal speed.

praise kink? no. surely not. doesn't everyone like to receive compliments?

"sure. i don't mind gettin' told i've an impressive cock but that's bed talk. you look ready to bend over 'nd show us how slick tha' pretty cunt can get over a rufflin' of hair and a couple of empty words."

that has you positively reeling, fingertips cracking the cup in your hands, pulse on your neck fluttering. you feel a cornered, skittish animal, ready to flee lest your life come to an end in his maws.

but as usual, the cruel man more creature than person, twists the knife he's dug into you with a certain ruthlessness only he can muster.

"so be good for me, eh? love your praise? earn it."

you've always been an over achiever, proven once again by the way you take him to the root in one long, broad stroke with any complaints at the sheer size of him resting firmly behind your clenched teeth.

"tight little thing, spread open over me like you were meant for it. for me." he runs a gloved thumb over your swollen bottom lip. "there's tha' look. drivin' me bloody insane when you gave kyle tha' molten gaze. none o' tha' now, yeah?"

he creeps his ungloved hand down to circle your pearl with the spit-slick pads of his fingers, drawing in a sharp breath when your walls flutter and constrict around his cock at the feel of something other than your toy giving you the relief you need after a hard day's work.

"bloody fuckin' 'ell."

ghost claims a fistful of hair, pulling you closer to him, his breath warming the stinging, throbbing mark he bit onto the delicate skin of your neck. the shuffling of feet right outside the door snap you out of your daze, fingernails sinking into the bulging muscle of his chest but he has none of it.

he uses your hair to direct your focus back onto him and even though he'd only given you a leading tug you felt some strands of your hair come off with a pop.

"easy. can't see your pretty face when i'm fuckin' ya if your lookin' away."

your expression twists into what you hope is bliss when he bucks his hips, your whimper drowning out his groan when he hits on something new.

something you want him to keep hitting.

"exactly like i'd thought."

everything else blurs together after that, and only when you're back in your room using a warm cloth to clean yourself up do you remember the other things he'd rumbled.

(inside o' ya, make you mine-)

(-get 'bout bein' with anyone else-)

(-ll to myself-)

you touch your tender pussy with gentle fingers at what he'd said in the end.

(leave tha' f'me, he swipes your hand away, i'll get ya there, pet.)

if price's compliments take a nose dive off a cliff you don't notice because you're getting your daily fill of them and ghost after dinner every night. kyle keeps them to one word and soap likes to tempt fate as always.

[n0ahsferatu]

haven’t watched the star treks in five million years but this is what happened in In The Pale Moonlight right

(credit to @/sweepswoop_ on twitter who drew the original Labru meme!)

[golden-lovers]

[loveanddeepstress]

Slight spoilers, completely humor purpose cause it's funny.

Lads headcanon, what if we're astra's daughter and he just can't stand the idea of his child in a relationship.

"You can't fall in love with the god of the sea! He's a drama queen and all the way in the depths of lemuria!"

"Maybe some time in the mountains with my forseer will do you some good.... YOU CANNOT MARRY THE FORSEER NO MORE MOUNTAIN- I SAID NO MORE-"

"You know what, I think you should go learn some swordsmanship and what better place than philos? NOT THE PRINCE-"

"Look at all the beautiful flowers mc- mc? Mc- A MF DRAGON?!"

"Now, you're in a simple life now, no dragons, my forseer almost killed me, the sea god is supposedly dead and the prince is on a deepspace mission from philos, no dragons or nothing in this time period- PUT THAT POOR BOY DOWN YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE HE'S BEEN-"

Hes just a tired overprotective dad.

[arapa1ma]

"you have to do your algebra homework right now or else you'll get a bad grade!!" ok but what if i didn't do it because not only does the teacher take weeks to grade things but i am also Extremely overwhelmed due to ALMOST ALL of my classes giving homework and having a test almost every three days and on top of that i have two online classes that i have to complete at least three assignments for each week and ON TOP OF THAT i am expected to be able to act like a regular human being when i am at such a low point right now and did you consider algebra is just really stupid and time consuming and if i end up going into the career/s i'm planning on i likely wont need this type of math

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

Bones when Spock isn't around: Jim, you can't possibly blame Spock. Our dear friend Spock? Our best friend Spock who never lies? He's just doing his JOB, Jim. How can you even say that???

Bones interacting with Spock himself: Raise your eyebrows at me again and I'll slice you open just to watch you bleed you pointy eared fuck

[teethlordd]

Warm him up (plus an older drawing of Kremy in a 20s zoot suit, which is very fun to say)

[aznisure]

“Side effects of a prefrontal lobotomy include, but are not limited to: altercations in personality, dementia, inertia, inappropriate social behaviors and emotional impairment.”

[iloveteethhh]

another dump

[justaishy]

[poorlydrawninstarsandtime]

an extremely normal heart to heart between two very mentally stable fellas.

[ids in alt]