#would let him eat me out

[postm0rt3m]

writing this so fast because if i dont ILL FORGET IT PLEASE

(insp by that super SEXY IMAGE posted by @simonz-angel !!)

bzzt.

your eyes jolt open at the sudden feeling of your phone buzzing, the vibration under your pillow prompting a soft, groggy groan from your lips.

you’re not sure what time it is, but when you open your eyes, it’s still dark outside. riley, your retired bomb-sniffing german shepherd, is still fast asleep at the foot of the bed. and your two little kitties are seemingly no where to be found.

you finally roll over, the time on your little bed stand alarm clock reading 2:28 AM. ‘who the hell is texting at 2 in the damn morning??’ you wonder with another groan, this time an annoyed one. although one person pops in your mind. specifically, a big beefy man, who is currently out on deployment. your annoyance washes away instantly.

you can’t help the giddy smile that spreads across your face just at the thought of him. simon riley. your big beefy man.

he’s been gone for a little under a week now, although its felt like years. the same as it always does. you miss your warm, brick wall of a man! you’re currently bundled under three different blankets, and its still not the same! you miss his big, plush pecks and biceps that feel like pillows under your head, the rough skin of the burn scar across the entire right half of his torso that you could just run your tongue over for the rest of your life, and just don’t get me started on that tattoo sleeve.

of course.. you also just miss him. the way he yells at riley then immediately feeds him a treat because he feels bad, the way he looks at you when he finally does arrive back from his harrowing work, the way he whispers sweet nothings into your ear when he thinks you’ve drifted off.

simply put, you miss your simon.

you’re brought out of your thoughts when riley stirs at the end of the bed, a soft giggle escaping your lips as the dog lies on his back with his tongue flopped out and each of his limbs in the air, like a possum playing dead.

you decide to finally open the message, although that small pit of worry is in your stomach, as it always is when you receive a message from him.

is he hurt?

did something happen?

please be okay.

the same thoughts always run through your mind when you get these random texts, but as soon as you open the chat, your mind instantly freezes. well.. maybe blanks is a better word.

there’s no caption, no words. just a single image attached. and holy shit, is it better than anything you could’ve asked for.

he looks to be lying in his bed, the familiar military-approved white sheets tucked in neatly behind him. the camera is angled high above himself, and it looks as if he still has his gloves on. you can also see the waistline of his pants, and of course that sexy mask (you could bust just from thinking about it), and the dogtags you were just wearing when you bounced up and down on his cock, but.. thats it. he’s completely shirtless.

his muscular, toned abs and pecks are fully on display. for you. only for you. his beefy biceps are on either side of the frame, and that tattoo sleeve you remember tasting just a week ago is sitting deliciously in view. the way his shoulders barely fit in frame, the way the muscle connecting his shoulders up to his neck sits so perfectly high, the way his collarbones. THE WAY HIS V-LINE.

god.. and his scars? you can remember leaving a rather large hickey over that old bullet hole. giggling over the stab wound stretching over his ribcage. licking a stripe all the way from his v-line to his shoulder over the jagged skin of his burn scar. although there is a new one, one you can only presume he got in the last week. no matter, it will be tasted as soon as he gets home.

you end up staring at the picture for a good ten minutes (12, but who’s counting?) before you actually respond. you.. really aren’t sure what to say. it’s not uncommon for him to send images while hes out on deployment, but at 2:30? on a random tuesday? he must be horned up.

but you can’t just leave your man hanging! so.. you decide with a simple text.

> oh

you can already imagine the deep chuckle as he reads the message, the way he’d palm over his painfully tight bulge just thinking about you before unbuttoning his pants, his hard and leaking cock springing up against his lower abdomen and his big, veiny hand wrapping around it-

obviously, you’re feeling the same as he is, considering just how quickly you rush riley out of the room (don’t worry, he’ll get a treat later to make up for it) and plop back down in bed, your phone in one hand as the other lazily circles over your clit.

like i said, you miss your simon.

and you’ll definitely be getting him back for that little tease.

tumblr STOP DELETING PARAGRAPSH WHEN I TRY TO SPSCE THEM. hi i wrote this within like thirty minutes at 3 in the morning and its not proofread so.. enjoy!

ft a lil msg 😜 (BCZ WTF WOULD YOU RESPOND TO THAT my hand would be PREOCCUPIED)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

ghost horses

GHORSES

[egophiliac]

i love your riddle design so much, he's so pointy and british. so gracious. do you think he would enjoy a brazilian goiabada

thank you! ❤️🖤❤️ it's just. important to me on a level I can't explain that Riddle have an extremely pointy nose that he can stick into everyone else's business.

also goiabada is sweet and fruity and red, I think he would like it very much indeed!

not me stealth-editing because I forgot his antenna whoops

[one-chaotic-neautral]

Arcane ships ranked, for fun

The main ships and some rarepairs I've found, I like pretty much everything in the first 4 rows. I probably missed some but idk what they are and I'm too lazy to add more rn.

feel free to add your thoughts or ships but again its just for funsies :)

[little-pondhead]

DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)

[tommygotwrittenoff]

bobby says to eddie one shift where buck is home sick with chris. going home to see your boys? eddie smiles and says. yeah. and your boys just Sticks in eddies brain and when he gets home he sees chris and buck curled up on the couch asleep and the sight makes him pause cuz. yeah. those are his boys

[butterflysonnets]

absolutely insane that mike literally p a n i c k e d when will was like "well what about us?" because will wasn't even really making things gay he was honest to god just inquiring about the state of their estranged friendship and wondering why mike didn't make time to talk to him when they're supposed to be best friends but MIKE was the one having an aneurysm like "🏳️‍🌈⁉️ W H AT!!"

“WE'RE FRIENDS” “i know mike” “WE'RE!!! F R I E N D S!!” “right so why don't you call me — ” “I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND” “… that in no way answers my question"

[moonyslesbian]

i know tim said we're not getting a cliffhanger but man. how good would it be if we got buck nde while eddie was leaving LA to go get chris back and had no way of knowing. like maybe its the a shift's day off and eddie decides on a whim that actually, he wants his kid back mom, and he buys a last minute plane ticket. and buck gets into a car accident or his loft burns down or whatever. and everyone's in the hospital waiting room getting frustrated at eddie's number going straight to voicemail and wondering just where the fuck eddie is. meanwhile eddie's on the plane sitting and thinking like Hmmm i wonder if chris will come more willingly if i mention buck's name... :)

[beartes22]

Season 2 Jayce with season 1 Viktor this, beard Jayce with young Viktor that….fools, all of you. I raise you, season 2 arc 2 Viktor and season 1 Jayce.

[nemesisfall]

obligatory pokemon au time!!

[electric-plants]

cyno: we’ll set out immediately after i have a quick meeting with the scribe

aarav: oh did he need more of our records?

cyno: no?? i just have to go and kiss him goodbye

[totallyradicalmucky]

After a while of struggling, I finally managed to draw something alright with these doomed yaoi folk.

They have a lot in common, I think even if they don’t fit romantically, they could get along in the show somehow.

[dykedvonte]

Danse and Hancock work only after blind betrayal because it’s the equivalent of the one closeted person you kinda pity getting kicked out after being outted and you and your like 7 other faggot friends take them in and help them do a 180 on their outlook on life and personal style and get them to weed (possibly grape mentats in this case).

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[velvetsssapphic]

Me whenever this scene comes up