#remember it right now

[quiggel]

Look. Here me out. I have a magpod thought and I can’t decide if it’s stupid or not so please let me know.

I like coming up with AUs in my brain that I don’t really share with people. And currently I’m making up ideas for like. What if TMA but with the main Protocol cast and vice-versa. And I have this particular idea for something. And I don’t know if I’ve struck gold or am just pulling shit out of my ass.

Celia Ripley: Head of the Magnus Institute

[umblrspectrum]

so like is it specifically planets the solver craves or can it get by with just eating dirt off the ground

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Vanny and Amanda from DBD would get along..

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[naturecalls111]

unorthodox murder mystery

[bluerosefox]

Uncle Damian Mode ACTIVATE

Twins Danny and Damian but! They both know where the other is (Damian going to Bruce and Danny being sent to the Fentons on a mission at a young age), has kept in touch and all that.

They just...never got around to telling anyone about the other.

That is until Danny comes interrupting Damian on patrol one night in a panic, pushes a bundle into his arms and hurriedly says "Read our texts! It'll explain! I gotta go, got a fruitloop on my tail! Be back when I can!"

And rushes off. When Damian looks down at the bundle in his arm, ignoring the yelling on comms and Nightwing rushing over, he is stunned to see a almost identical face to that of his brother staring back at him, only he can tell its female from the more delicate features.

When he later reads the texts his brother sent during his patrol... well he's tempted to go fruitloop hunting but he has a niece to take of... and inform his father of his granddaughter he's currently holding.

[ahhrenata]

‘how quickly power can change hands’ | X |

[blackpearlblast]

five days until the state of georgia is scheduled to execute willie pye

[paintedcrows]

Some Fords! (and Martin K Blackwood is also there)

[bi-writes]

Would you ever do like mob and Simon’s first date night together or something like that ( love your writing )

mail-order bride (18+)

the wine sits idle in the middle of the table. simon leans back against his chair, sighing deeply as he runs a big palm over his lower stomach, all pudgy and full from the meal you had placed on the table.

you had surprised him. candles on the table, his favorite red wine decanted into a crisp glass, beef short ribs falling apart over a plate of mashed potatoes. he had no time to scold you for cooking because you had been finished by the time he stepped through the door.

immaculate, sweet girl. the first bite of the food had him sucking on his teeth, biting back a moan. such a good meal, perfection in a pot, with creamy potatoes that had him licking the prongs of the fork as he watched you from across the table, eyes glazed over with love for feeding him better than he ever had been in his whole life. he had seconds, thirds, pawing at your skirt when you asked if he wanted more, his tongue sliding over the knife that he didn't even need to get any piece of sauce off the plate.

and then dessert. perfect little chocolate cakes in pretty little tins, with a cracked top. and when he broke the surface with his spoon, it was flooded with hot ganache, a gooey molten lava cake that he gave you heart eyes for as he ate it up with dramatic slurps.

fuck, he cannot stop looking at you. maybe you put poison in the food because you've never looked more beautiful than you do right now. you're sitting there, hair off your face, spoon in your mouth as you lick off the warm chocolate from it. that pretty pink tongue sliding over the edge of it, gathering that sweet center and swallowing, the bob of your throat making his breath catch as he follows it all the way to the low neckline of your dress. that sweetheart neckline makes your tits look so perky, so bouncy, and he can tell you aren't wearing a bra because he can see your nipples between the polka dot pattern.

"come 'ere," simon says lowly, dropping the spoon with a defiant clatter onto his plate. you smile, standing from your seat, and you bounce over to where he's sitting. simon sits you down on the table in front of him, shoving his plate far back to give you room. he picks up his glass of wine and chugs it practically, licking the last drop before setting down the glass and flipping you over with practiced ease.

you gasp as your hips hit the wood. you bend, barely having enough time to catch yourself with your hands before you hear his chair scrape against the floor. you can feel his size as he stands up and towers over you, and your toes curl when you hear the buckle of his belt.

"w-what--"

"'m not gonna fuck ya, baby," simon sighs, smoothing his hands up the back of your thighs before flipping your skirt up. he snorts when he sees you're wearing polka dot panties to match your little dress, and you squeak when he grips the flimsy fabric with one big hand and shreds it with ease, tossing it aside. "first time 's gonna be so nice, i promise..." he clicks his tongue, "but fuck, ya gotta let me, luvvie..."

"please," you gasp, sliding back a little, pressing your ass against the front of his jeans. you can feel the open zipper scratch against your cunt, and he sighs shakily. you hear the rustle of fabric, and you sob with relief when you feel the warmth of his cock slap against your ass. "oh, god--simon!"

"i know, luv," he groans, "i know...not ready for it, not yet..." he licks his lips, sliding your dress up further, exposing your lower back and the sweat that's gathered there. he grips himself at the base, swiping over his wet tip before using it to give himself a languid stroke. at the first sound of a squelch, you whine, and he squeezes your hip gently. "agggh--fuck--"

your back bows when he slides his cock between your thighs. he's so big. thick and wide, not as lengthy as you might have expected but god, he's got the girth of your fucking arm. he keeps your back arched as he grips your wrists and tugs, drawing you up until your neck leans back against his chest. he gives you a slow thrust, the tip of his cock catching on your clit as he rolls his hips just right.

"oh--simon--"

"can't wait," he mumbles, sliding a thick palm over your throat, mouthing against your ear. "fuck, i can't wait to 'ave ya...can't wait to devour this fuckin' pussy--"

"simon--" you cry, reaching up and gripping his hand around your throat, and you sob again when you feel the cold band of his wedding ring. mine, mine, mine, mine--

"wot's y'r fuckin' name, baby?" simon asks, rocking his hips. you shake every time he hits your clit, and with his tight grip, all you can do is stand there and take it as he fucks your thighs. his cock is moving so nice between your folds, stimulating every little part of you, and you aren't coherent enough to be ashamed of how wet you are, starting to soak his cock and contribute to the intense wet shlick that sounds from between your legs. "huh? tell me--"

"'m mrs. riley," you babble, sucking his fingers into your mouth as they move up your throat. your eyes flutter shut, your entire body going slack as he lets go of your wrist with his free hand and pulls your hips back against his.

"tha's right," simon grunts, "my pretty girl. my perfect little wife, cookin' so fucking good for me, takin' such good care o' me, fuck--" simon groans, "rock fuckin' hard ever since i walked through tha' fuckin' door, baby."

"mmm--!" you squeal, bracing yourself against the edge of the table as he cups your pussy with one hand and cums between your folds the next. with just a few warm strokes, you're spilling into his palm, jelly in his arms as he collapses into the seat behind him and cradles you in his lap. "mrs...mrs. riley..." you're babbling again, giggling all warm and lucid, and simon chuckles as he cups the back of your head, feeding you his wet fingers and cursing under his breath as he watches you lick the slick off his hand.

you pay special attention to his ring finger, tongue swirling around the gold band. when you let his finger go with a pop, your eyes flutter open, and they meet his.

yeah, he thinks. she's ready.

[criticalbeauregard]

the parallels of m9 going to allura for a ritual to help yasha and bells hells going to essek for a ritual to help laudna just dawned on me

there will always be a happily coupled gay mage from a previous campaign that will invite the party into their home to help another gay person

[marisashinx]

NEWS FLASH: Tamashina-Mina has been delayed‼️‼️‼️

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I *need* to get pregnant by him.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[relatablepicturesoffinnmertens]

THEY ARE FRIENDS

[two-corpses-in-the-burial-mounds]

Anyone else think a lot about how at the end of canon, Lan Wangji has had time to mature for 10+ years into a guy in his mid-30s, but Wei Wuxian still has the life experience and general maturity of a war-traumatized early 20-something?

Because like. Wei Wuxian died young and he died tragically, and everyone who was around him then that's still there after he's resurrected has gotten to live their lives. They got to mature. They've had 13/16 years to heal (or not heal -_-) and learn who they are. To become fully realized adults outside of the pressures of war. And Wei Wuxian hasn't had that. If you believe MXTX's interview that circulates on this site sometimes, he spent those 16 years in a suspended state of agony. And even if you don't believe that, he was still dead. Non-existant.

For Wei Wuxian, the war is fresh. The pain is fresh. He has no idea what's doing because he's barely an adult, if admittedly a highly skilled one for his age. The world has moved on around him and he has stayed in place. What does he do with that?

Wei Wuxian had no choice but to pretend that he's moved on, too, because that war that took so much from him was almost two decades ago, now. The Wen Remnants have been dead for over 10 years. What use is it to dig up old hurts? Except, those hurts are still hurting him.

When he died, Wei Wuxian was helping care for Lan Sizhui. Wen Yuan. When he died, Lan Wangji raised A-Yuan with the Lan. If Wei Wuxian was dead for 13/16 years and A-Yuan was 3/4 when he died, then Lan Sizhui is about his age, or very close to it.

This is the child he was raising. This child is now his peer.

Wei Wuxian has memories of war and tragedy, but no one to talk to. The juniors, who are closest to him in relative age, haven't known war, and everyone who has known it has moved on. He's trapped between generations, and that has to be so incredibly isolating.

Jiang Yanli, the Wen Remnants, Wen Qing of particular note, all of them died shortly before he did. Did he ever really get to grieve them? Will he be allowed to now? Especially with his reputation. Especially with the number of people who would really prefer him to simply leave the past in the past. Especially with all the people who think he is the cause of the deaths he wishes to grieve.

Will he be allowed to mourn, if the cultivation world thinks these deaths are his fault? Or that these people don't deserve to be grieved?

Wei Wuxian has the misfortune of being a man who is a decade out of time, and he will have to learn to cope with that, but how does he account for the missing years? When the pain is still fresh for him, how does he find a place in a society that has long since moved on?

[daily-odile]

sorry i was gone for a while i just got back from the mountains