#ride the storm

[allthingsabouther]

"I can't stop the rain, but we can ride the storm"

[highrepubliczine]

✨ 10 Days Until Impact ✨

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Preorders will run from September 1 - October 13.

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For Light and Life!! 🌌

[nomoremaybe]

[lenbryant]

h/t Wil Wheaton.

“When they drafted the Constitution, the Founders’ greatest fear was that a populist demagogue would flatter the mob, subvert American democracy and establish authoritarian rule. “The only path to a subversion of the republican system of the Country is, by flattering the prejudices of the people, and exciting their jealousies and apprehensions, to throw affairs into confusion, and bring on civil commotion,” Alexander Hamilton wrote to George Washington in 1792. “When a man unprincipled in private life[,] desperate in his fortune, bold in his temper … is seen to mount the hobby horse of popularity … It may justly be suspected that his object is to throw things into confusion that he may ‘ride the storm and direct the whirlwind.’””

—  The Founding Fathers feared demagogues and hoped for civic virtue

[arabella-strange]

jesus christ man

bonus: the face Orym made when Dorian suggested if he wanted to ride Coriolis into the fight by asking, "Do you want to be a mounted fighter?"

[naz-razzer]

i've had this drawing in my mind since i first read how to ride a dragon's storm. i might come back and redo bits of it cause i'm not fully happy but i wanted to try an art style thats a bit more simplified and stylized. I also think how angry he is makes it a bit ooc, but maybe he's older?

[imminent-danger-came]

The Devil and the Lovers

Stills Under the Cut!

[whereifindsanity]

Amidst Rolling Thunderclouds by artist Greg Rutkowski

[pocketseizure]

Sealing War bas-relief early concept art

[mg-aesthetic]

[highrepubliczine]

✨Contributor Applications close in 3 DAYS✨

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From the Core to the Frontier, from No-Space to Starlight Beacon, this zine will include all manner of characters, settings, and events introduced in PHASE ONE of The High Republic saga.

[cringefaecompilation]

"bell's hells should tpk because it'd be thematically relevant for a tragedy!" "no they should all make it out 100% okay because it'd be thematically relevant for them being underdogs!" um... actually... it'd be the most thematically relevant if dorian storm joins the nba because he's 6'1

[floridagrowngirl]

@floridagrowngirl

[nocanonhere]

Tav x Gale One-Shot: A First of Many

One-shot TavxGale fic. If you choose the bed love scene option.

‘It draws moans out of his chest, not his throat. She’s claimed his lungs too, because of course she has. There’s going to be very little of him left that won’t belong to her. None at all, if he has his way.’

Rating: Not Suitable for Work/Timeline

He isn’t even sure that saying he forgot what this felt like was accurate. He hadn’t. This felt wholly new, because it was. Nothing had ever felt quite like it.

He’s been outside himself, undulating amongst the stars and filled with the white heat of being overwhelmed and blissfully blinded. Barely a moments rest in between sharp, pleasurable sensations; exploding in a single burst that would leave him reeling. He would find himself back in his bed, or office settee, or the floor, still dizzy; not able to come down as fast as he would like. And why would he? It was a mind blowing experience with the one who held his muse. The one he thought was his muse.

Here, there is heat, but it’s a tolerable warmth. And it’s not just focused in the area receiving the most stimulation; it’s not pinpricking his nerves. His whole body feels heavy, but still liquid. Every steady roll of her hips and dig of her nails into his chest drag him down further into a pool of pleasure. His breathing is heavy, and here and there, it’s hitched. But he has time in between the roll of her hips to breathe; to not be crashed into the sensations. Rather, she is coaxing him into them with a precision that he is impressed and devastated by.

He always appreciated meticulousness because it signaled thoughtfulness. Passion, even. That must be what this is, then. True passion. She hasn’t stopped moving on him; has not faltered once. Their bodies are covered with a sheen of sweat, so much that her skin glides across his lightly haired thighs in a way that ratchets him up further.

By the gods, she won’t stop.

It draws moans out of his chest, not his throat. She’s claimed his lungs too, because of course she has. There’s going to be very little of him left that won’t belong to her. None at all, if he has his way.

In between those moans, he bites his lips. Licks them for no other reason than that pleasure dictates it. And she’s quieter in bed; that he can already tell. But she can’t fight the small moans exiting her either. They seem to come from her throat more than her chest, however. As if she was trying to resist making noise at all.

He wants to tell her to let them out. But all he can do is slide a palm over her damp thigh, and hang on.

She rolls, and presses, winces, moans, bounces. Rolls, presses, repeat. And the buildup of his climax isn’t a forceful push into a bright bang. It’s quieter, and stronger. Enough that his groans rattle his chest. He is slipping into a place that, once he reaches, he’ll never want to leave again.

“Gale,” she says quietly, voice trembling and laced with a hint of urgency.

Her body finishes the sentence, the pulses of her around him too haphazard to be intentional. She’s close, and so is he. And it’s not just the feeling of her gripping him and dragging her along with him. It’s the mechanics of it, the everything of it. The knowledge that the steady press of his length into her is going to coax a climax from her. The realization that he’s going to finish just like this. In the quiet night, with her riding him none too urgently, and with her barely making any noise.

“Tav,” he chokes out. “Gods, Tav.”

The desperation in his voice encourages her to move her hips just a bit harder, causing him to cry out.

“Love. It’s…I’m-

She hums in response, closing her eyes and letting her head roll back.

“I know,” she whispers. “Me too. Just-

“Tav, please,” he rushes out, not certain that he could withstand hearing her tell him to hang on just a while longer. He can’t. He hasn’t been able to withstand her since she pulled him out of the disaster of his own rune. Then out of constant peril. Then out of his own self diminishing thoughts. Of of his own plans. Then joined him outside his body. And now, pulling him apart at the seams.

A harsh sound leaves him again when she switches back to bouncing.

“That’s…gods, love. That’s it. I’m-“

She slows down again and returns to grinding instead.

No, she can’t possibly.

He makes a sound that he’s sure is a whine, reaching a hand up for her to hold. She didn’t really need the support, but she takes his hand anyway. And were it not for the shine of her body and clenching of her core, he’d think she wasn’t affected much at all.

“Please,” he groans, then swallows. “Tav, please.”

“Please, what?” She asks lowly, head still tossed back, hips rolling faster, hand still grasping his.

‘Let me finish. Make me finish. Make me drown. Do it over and over again. Mark me until there’s nothing of me left that isn’t claimed.’

“With me,” he answers instead, and it was a nonthought. Right now, that’s what he wanted more than anything. Their collective crash.

She moans out, and it’s probably the loudest she’s been all night. It forces his hand that was latched to her sweaty thigh to slide up to her lower stomach. He moves his thumb lower, barely swiping it across her west flesh, back and forth.

“Yes?” She asks.

“Yes,” he bites out. “I need you.”

‘In every way, forever.’

“I need to feel you.”

To hells with what the heavens have to offer. Her burning coldness could never freeze over this heat. The tangle of these scarred, tired bodies wrestling on top of dampened sheets is something that he never felt with his goddess. The pleasure and carnality of being in his body and nearly about to be outside of it was enough. Perfect. Still too much. He’s-

He gasps, body locking along with his lungs. The climb up is slow, which makes it more impactful. But yet, he’s not overwhelmed. It’s not happening so fast he can barely feel it.

“Fuck,” he curses in a rare display. “Tav.”

The peak of it takes him high. It unlocks his body and causes him to writhe without thought. It forces wave after wave of moans out of him. And it somehow keeps taking him higher, increasing the volume and pitch of his cries.

It’s lasting so long.

He throws his head back against the pillows, craning his neck even. Gods, it won’t stop.

“Gale,” she says again, quite urgently this time. “Oh gods.”

He can’t respond with anything over than a tortured groan, still in the throes of his climax. It’s not until he finally starts to come down and get control of his movements that she grows frantic.

When his breathing finally starts to level, Tav pulls away from him suddenly, causing him to hiss. She leans over his chest and supports herself on one hand next to his head, the other hand rubbing herself frantically. “Your fingers, please.”

He obliges, movements syrupy for a moment before his brain finally dictates to his body that he has a job to do.

He presses his middle and index fingers inside her, looking up at the tortured expression on her face. Her eyes are shut tight, and her mouth is parted slightly.

In a rare display, he actually has no words for her. His mind has been swirled around too much and has yet to settle. So he fucks her harder, feeling the clench of her around his fingers.

“Yes,” she whispers shakily, matching his tempo. “Gale, yes.”

His only answer is to keep going, and when her climax finally hits, it still earns a twitch from him despite being spent.

She stops breathing when it takes her, her hand fumbling and slowing down. A broken groan leaves her as he feels her push against him, hard, and then a warm rush trickles against his skin.

He slows his hand, still pressing steadily until she finishes trembling and riding her high. When her eyes finally open, that’s when he stops entirely.

Her eyes are alert, pupils blown, and the both of them are panting shared air.

She’s quiet, always has been. But even now she manages to sweep him up by finding the best words to say.

“This,” she says, low tone slightly cracking through. She moves a hand to press over the Orb, but makes sure he keeps his eyes on hers. “Just this. Forever.”

End

[shwinlsol]

Most pathetic Marvel doodle dump in history