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aezyrraeshh · 1 year

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; SHIP SONGS

i was tagged by @leviiackrman to post 5-10 songs for a ship; thank you so much! tagging @aartyom @arklay @nuclearstorms @nokstella @honeysofte @galeboettichergf @risingsh0t @indorilnerevarine @steelport @unholymilf @devilbrakers @liurnia @florbelles @shadowglens @calenhads @swordcoasts @cultistbase @girlbosselrond @reaperkiller @faarkas & anyone else who wants to do this!

I WOULD NEVER HAVE TO KNOW - SAMURAI DRIVE

saw you at the break of the tide // and every bird at flight // i met you at the trembling of the knees // you are the sirens of the seas

2. TO BE LOVED - ASKJELL & AURORA

i tell myself I have to build defenses // 'cause once you are in love, you are defenseless // everything was easy when it meant less // but once you are in love, you are defenseless

nobody knows me, nobody knows me // i'm never lonely // until someone holds me // and lets go, just to show me // how it's like to be loved

3. SNAKES - SORRY

no one can take away the time // i spent with you // or, no one can take away a time // that is so coloured blue // and every time i made you cry // i was crying too

snakes didn't even scare me // quite like you did

4. SMOKE - TENDER

loving you's like holding smoke // my countless tries become a joke // i can't stop wanting you // and all these things that you do // you're like an anchor on my soul // the fear of death running through my bones // this old room with a view // i'm holding on for something new

5. I FOLLOW RIVERS - MARIKA HACKMAN

oh i beg you // can i follow? // oh i ask you // why not always // be the ocean // where i unravel? // be my only // be the water where i'm wading

6. I HOPE YOU DIE - MOLLY NILSSON

maybe it's all beyond control // but baby, you can have my soul // i hope you die by my side // maybe it's all ages away // but i can't help but think of the day // i hope we die at the exact same time

7. TOO MUCH - PALE.

could i make it more clear? // could i give you more time? // did i say enough // or maybe i said too much? // let me in, let me wonder // let me worry where you've been // let me in, you can find me // when you find me we begin

8. TERRIBLE THING - AG & BRAD GORDON

lose my self-control with you (when i'm with you) // do things i don't want to do // oh for you, you terrible thing, you // terrible thing, you // terrible thing, you // beautiful thing

a wreck, a wreck you make // you leave, you leave me in your wake // oh honey, let me go // aha, aha, don't you let me go

9. BIG DARK LOVE - MURDER BY DEATH

i know it's a big dark love // i know it's a big dark love // i know it's dangerous // it's my big dark love

let me in with my big dark love! // let me in, me and my love!

#my favorite clowns <33 #this was super fun to do !! ty again for the tag #♡: tag games #my oc: candy #my oc: aleksandr romanov #x: they got the range

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laurenkmyers · 1 year

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prapaisky + rough/soft flipped kisses.

#prapaisky #lita #love in the air #pai x sky #asiandramanet #asianlgbtqdramas #litaedit #prapaiskyedit #mine #my boys got the range #i just love a flipped kiss #ugh

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sebsxphia · 1 year

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The “who hurt you “ trope but you show up at Rhetts door at 2am

-🥊😘

“who hurt you?”

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ c/w: mentions of violence and injury, descriptions of injury, mentions of abuse, swearing, kissing, rhett is a big softie who wants to protect you.

￫ a/n: @sandbarbirdie bIRDIE YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS TROPE WITH RHETT, TURN THIS UPPP <3 i started writing this and it turned into a full fic, woah! i understand this topic is heavy so please, please dm or inbox me with any c/w that i’ve missed or if you just want to talk, i’m here to listen, always. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett’s sure he heard the knocking on his front door. He was coming out of his slumber and couldn’t work out if it was in his dream, or real life, but then he heard the knocking again, far louder this time. He was sure that it was a pounding on his front door. He slipped on a pair of boxers from the day before and a plaid shirt was thrown haphazardly over his shoulders. It was freezing during the Wabang winters now and he would be damned if he was going to catch a cold.

He padded down the stairs and into his hallway to hear another pounding. His door was shaking with the force. “I’m coming, Jesus fu—” He unlocked the door and opened it to see you with your hands wrapped tightly around your arms, and trying to incase some of the warmth into your shaking frame from the cold. You peered up at him and squinted your eyes at the warm brightness inside his home. The light purple bruise on your eye that was starting to form made it harder to look at him. The gash on the side of your temple was boring into your skull, with dried blood trickling down onto your cheek. “Jesus Christ.” He muttered under his breath and your name in tow, before ushering you quickly you inside.

He shed the plaid shirt and wrapped it around your quivering shoulders. He gently cupped your face in the hallway where you both stood still and tilted you up to look at him. He was hyper-aware that there could be other injuries he wasn’t aware of. You looked at him with guilt spreading across your face. It was sheepish almost, but Rhett wore a look of only worry on his face.

“Who hurt you?” His tone was firm and unwavering.

You were childhood sweethearts long ago and you’d both enjoyed your younger teenage years together and early adult lives, but things got in the way and you were no longer together.

“Shit happens,” Is what you told Rhett, however you found in the more recent months, you were getting closer to each other again. Sometimes you wondered late at night if you could ever truly tear apart from one another. The relationship you held with each other could never be argued about or even understood. The only thing he knew is that he would bury someone in the ground for you and protect you with his still, beating heart.

His eyes bore into yours awaiting your reply. He was waiting for the name of who he was going to ruin the next day. You knew your Rhett and his tendencies to loose all control over anyone who would even dare to look your way, so you opted for the safer option, not looking him in the eye when you told him. You pulled away from his soft hold and stumbled to the kitchen chair and slouched down. “Darren.” You muttered out, looking down at your scuffed cowboy boots, a gift from Rhett for your twenty first birthday.

“Darren.” Rhett repeated with a grunt and clenched fists by his sides. Darren was your new fling and while Rhett knew about him, and he knew he had no real hold on you anymore, it burned at his insides like acid. Rhett also knew he had no place to ask what you were doing with Darren, but he needed to know why you showed up at his door at two in the morning with blood running down your face and a nasty bruise forming on your eye.

Rhett reached for the first aid kit in the top kitchen cupboard and came to kneel by your side in the dimly lit kitchen. His nostrils were flared and you saw how he was trying to steady his breathing. Shallow and deep breaths came out of him, and you knew he was already plotting his downfall.

Rhett broke the tense silence first. “What the fuck did Darren do t’ you, angel?”

That name. Fuck sake. That fucking name. Rhett’s words were laced with venom, poised and ready to attack your attacker but the name “angel,” simply made tears swell in your eyes and it stung the bruised one. You remembered when Rhett called you angel. It was always during the softer times at night when your bodies were entwined with each other, talking about your future together, or when he consoled you after you didn’t get into your dream college.

“He wasn’t aiming for me. He went for some guy standing next to me, but he ducked at the right time and Darren’s fist met me instead.”

Rhett scoffed and made a mental note that Darren had a lazy punch. That would be good to know for tomorrow.

He dipped the cotton ball in the luke warm water and dabbed cautiously at the wound on your temple. You let out a hiss, gritting your teeth together and scrunching your eyes shut. Another groan left your chapped lips as the pain in your eye swelled from the scrunching. You felt one of Rhett’s hands rest on your jean clad thigh and give it a reassuring squeeze, his thumb running soothing circles over your flesh. “I know, I know. It’s gon’ sting, I’m sorry.” Rhett never apologised to anyone. Only you.

“If it were me punching some guy f’ you, I wouldn’t do it anywhere near you.”

You huffed out a small laugh at Rhett’s attempt to ease the pain. “I know. I remember.” You reminded him.

“Did you drive?”

You hesitated on your answer. No matter the response, it wasn’t going to help you try and hide what happened.

“No, I ran.”

Rhett’s eyebrows twisted downwards ever so slightly.

“I live a good mile away from town, angel.”

“After everything happened I screamed at Darren, like I lost it Rhett.” You twiddled with the hem of your t-shirt as Rhett continued to patch you up. You still couldn’t look at him. You felt shame clouding your senses. “He lost it back at me. I’d never seen him like that. I mean sure, we’ve only been dating like a month, but… But you really see peoples true colours when they’re drunk, huh.”

Your statement was laced with a double meaning. You remembered when Rhett got drunk, sure he would defend you within an inch of your life, but he would never scream at you. Never. He would cling to you all night and whisper sweet nothings in your ear about how you were the only one for him. It stung more than the wound on the side of your face to know that you might’ve lost that.

Rhett stuck a butterfly band aid to the side of your face and cleaned up the rest of your blood. “‘nd the gash?” He paused. “He punched you, angel. Y’ don’t get that after a blow t’ the eye.”

Now Rhett was finished with bandaging you up, he could slip his hands to yours and give them a light squeeze. He wanted you to know that he was here. He was going to listen to anything you had to say and reassure you with all his might. The tears that had pooled in your eyes from before were now slipping over and onto your cheeks. You held his gaze and bit your bottom lip harshly. You were trying to stop the sobs that wanted to tear from your throat. You winced as you reminisced what followed after and how you got the gash.

You didn’t need to say it, Rhett knew.

His eyes softened at seeing you like this. He wanted to reassure you that he heard you, but he felt a bile form in his throat. He could feel it threatening to spew out of him. The idea of someone intentionally hurting his angel made him nauseous.

“I was s’ scared. I didn’t know anywhere else to go, expect here.” You blubbered out between small sobs now leaving your throat. Rhett shuffled closer to you and removed his hands from yours to hold your face again, lovingly.

“You don’t have t’ be scared anymore, angel. Y’ can always find your way back home ‘ere.”

You nodded in his hands and gave him a thankful look with all you could muster without your face contorting into pain again.

“Can I stay with you tonight, Rhett? Please?”

Rhett was baffled that you even had to ask, but he understood that the injuries could very easily adhere your thinking.

“Of course, angel. I’ll always protect you.” A featherlight kiss was pressed to your cheek. He could taste your salty tears and it only made his insides wrench further in disgust at the man, no boy, who hurt you. No man would do this.

He bent down and wrapped his arms around your waist, and you instinctively hoisted yourself onto his. You rested your head into the crook of his shoulder. One hand cradled your legs as they attached to his hips and another softly smoothed over the back of your hair. You inhaled his familiar scent of cedar wood and spearmint. You felt safe as Rhett carried you to his bed that was once yours as well.

He sat you on what used to be your side of the bed and the mattress moved underneath you, as if to welcome your figure that once laid there. He gently shed you of his plaid shirt and your t-shirt underneath. In between the loss of your clothes, he pressed another feather light kiss to your cheek.

“You okay?” He checked in with you. When you nodded in response, he retrieved your old sleep shirt from his chest of drawers. He shed a slither of embarrassment at the prospect of still keeping your clothes, but it melted away when you accepted it with the first smile on your face that he had seen all evening.

“Arms up,” His voice was a soft instruction. You did as he asked and he slipped the top over you. It fitted like a warm hug, something that always fitted you perfectly. Just like Rhett. “I’ll help y’ take off y’ jeans now alright, angel?” He knelt down and brushed his fingers over the button and zipper. He un-did them with ease and slipped your jeans off. It was like you were a deer that he had seen in the forest who he didn’t want to spook. You’d always appreciated Rhett’s softer side.

However, his softness contorted into ferocious anger once again on his face. His eyebrows furrowed as he saw the second graze on your kneecap. “I fell to my knees after, he— he—” Your voice wavered again and you felt the tears sting at your waterline once more.

“I know, angel. I know. It’s not as bad as the others, I can patch it up tomorrow, alright?” Rhett reached up to wipe the one tear off your cheek. His lips gently met your flesh just above the graze on your kneecap and you sniffled at his adoring touch.

All clothes and shoes were now shed, and he picked up the empty glass on his bedside table. He went to leave the room but you stopped him in the doorway with a hold on his wrist. You looked at him with a pleading look and a small pout on your lips. You didn’t want him to leave you.

“It’s okay, angel. I’m jus’ goin’ t’ the bathroom t’ get you some water.” You hesitantly let go and got back into bed, shuffling up to the headboard and tucking your knees under your chin.

The weight of the mattress dipped again when Rhett sat next to you. He held the glass at the base while your still trembling hands held onto one side, helping you drink. “I’ll fill it up again for the night ‘nd then come into bed with you, alright?” He pressed a kiss to your temple, the side that wasn’t injured. You nodded in response and pulled the covers over your body, and slouched down into the pillows.

They smelt like Rhett, and you inhaled his scent and hair products again, deeper this time. The smell that flooded your nostrils made you inhale deeply. You felt a breath you’d been holding onto all night slip out. Rhett came back and made his way round to the other side of the bed. He slinked in beside you and you could feel his fingers rest on your upper arm first, testing the waters. He felt you relax under his touch and he took it as a welcome signal. You shuffled back into him and he slid his arm around yours and pulled you into his warm chest, his chin resting just above your head.

Another kiss was placed to the top of your head and you heard Rhett speak up, his drawl coaxing his words. A familiarity you’d missed so much recently. “You’re safe, angel. I’m never lettin’ you go again.”

That was the last thing you heard Rhett murmur to you before you fell asleep in his arms. Safe at last.

taglist:

@tallrock35

@iloveprettyboysblog

#💌you’ve got mail #sandbarbirdie #<333 #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott drabble #lewis pullman #outer range

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lar-mx · 7 months

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dcxdp write indication

At the Wayne Mansion, the entire Bat Family is gathered to watch The Voice USA (or the talent show of your choice). As they watch contestant after contestant pass by, Cass is suddenly startled to see a familiar face on the screen. Danny (Fenton) Nightingale takes the microphone and makes a small statement, he will sing the song "Fairytale" with a dedication to someone from his past, someone who became his own fairy tale. Each fragment, each note is loaded with emotions that only the audience present could appreciate. When the song finished the audience was applauding. Danny Nightingale moved on to the next round with a slightly melancholic but happy look if that were ever possible. While Cass's brothers said that (Danny) had done very well, she didn't know what to think, after years of not seeing each other it seems that some embers were left, even if only at one of the ends of the red rope that joined them together. sometime.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #mala escritura #danny x cass #Danny and Cass were together for about a year.#They had to separate for various reasons.#Cass knows about Danny's powers and how he got them.#Cass has a Fenton brand laser lipstick and will not hesitate to use it as a long-range weapon #Danny has a photo of them together in his wallet.#You can continue as you like #although I won't complain if you get Cass and Danny back together.#but this thing that came out of nowhere #seems to point to a reunion ready to bring closure to the past.

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callsign-rogueone · 2 years

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ladies love country boys - r.a.

You’re a graduate student in agriculture, in town for a few weeks for a friend’s wedding. Rhett takes an interest in you one night at the bar, and decides to play the long game to get into your pants. It fails spectacularly, in the best way possible.

1.7k, first chapter of a series I’m planning

🏷: F!reader (she/her and ‘girl’ used), a healthy amount of misogyny pertaining to hookup culture / buckle bunnies, “started off with questionable intentions but wow I really like you” trope (is there a shorter name for that?), I haven’t actually finished the show so uhh, whoops, but I really don’t see this being at all canon compliant, yes, the title is from the Trace Adkins song.

The first time Rhett Abbott sees you, he already knows exactly what your deal is. Or he thinks he does.

You’re sitting with a group of girls your age -- probably a bachelorette party, if the matching rhinestoned cowgirl hats were any indication.

He thinks he recognizes a local girl on your left. He went to school with her but he can’t remember her name. She must be the bride; her hat is white while the rest are black, and there’s one of those cheap ‘bride to be’ sashes over her shoulder.

You’re talking, laughing, and then the local girl — Emily, he decides — is pushing you up from the table and toward the mechanical bull.

He leans back in his seat a little, resting his back against the bartop. This should be good.

He’s fully prepared to watch some tipsy out-of-state college girl get thrown, and then maybe sidle up to her later tonight and casually drop that he does this for a living, and he’s willing to teach. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that those exact events had played out.

As if you can feel his eyes on you, you shoot him a sly smile. You seem confident, clipping up your hair with a quick twist of your wrist and tugging up your jeans by the loops. They fit perfectly, probably made of that stretchy shit that city people call denim, but he isn’t complaining, not when you look this good in them.

He shakes his head with a soft laugh, returning your smile and flicking the brim of his hat up with one finger. That always drives the girls a little crazy.

He watches as you enter the ring, sparkling hat in hand, and waste no time climbing on. You spread your knees, loosening your hips and cracking your neck before you look up at the operator, telling him you’re ready.

He can hear a few of the locals placing their bets on how long you’ll last, but he keeps quiet, just observing. Rhett’s frequented this bar for years, he knows that every fifteen seconds it gets more intense — his personal best is nearly three minutes, but he does this for a living, on real bulls.

It starts to move and you flow with it, leaning back as it bucks back and forth. You keep a loose grip on the saddle with one hand, the other still holding your hat. It’s as cliché as ever, probably trying to emulate something you’d seen in a movie, but it works. You lean forward with it at just the right time, which offers Rhett an excellent view down your shirt.

Up to thirty seconds now. He gives you another sly smile, getting impressed.

You return it, settling your hat back on your head firmly. You still keep that hand free, arm extended out for balance. Smart girl.

He can tell you’re reaching your limit, the movements becoming more erratic and harder to flow with. He’s almost a little worried that you’ll be thrown into the gross vinyl padding below, as he’s seen so many other overconfident first-timers be, but you surprise him once again.

You push down hard with both hands, jumping over the head and landing on your feet calmly, grinning from ear to ear.

Rhett checks his watch one last time. A minute and three seconds.

The whole bar cheers, and you take the attention in stride, taking off your hat and bowing humbly. You return to your friends with a pep in your step, laughing at their exaggerated applause.

Emily heads up to the bar to order you all another round. This is his opportunity.

“Emily,” He calls, nodding his head, and she turns to look at him. Thank the lord he got her name right. “Congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Thomas Daniels.” She says with a smile.

Rhett doesn’t remember much about the guy, other than that he went to school with him, but Emily definitely gives him the vibe that she’d marry within the town. They’d probably been high school sweethearts, and he probably shipped off to the military shortly after graduation — the way things always seemed to go around here.

“That your friend up there?” He asks, nodding toward the bull.

“Yup,” She gives him your name, “we’re sorority sisters, we were roommates back in the day.” She reminisces, even though ‘the day’ can’t be more than four years ago.

Oh, lord. This cannot get any better. The universe has finally given Rhett Abbott a break for the week, dropped a pretty city girl into his lap — figuratively, and hopefully by the end of the night, literally.

She gives him a dry look, seeing the lazy smile on his face. “Don’t get slick with me, Abbott. I know where you think this is headed.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I don’t know what you’re talkin about.” Bullshit. He does.

But before she can call him out on it, you’re approaching the counter. You’ve abandoned your hat and untied your hair, letting it trail down your shoulders. You almost fit in with the crowd now. You give him a quick raise of the eyebrows in acknowledgment, and order a Shirley Temple.

“Really?” Emily asks.

You admit it’s a bit of a childish choice, but you’re driving tonight — there isn’t exactly a booming market for Uber out here. “Someone has to get all of you out of here in one piece.” You remind her.

She gives you an ambivalent look and heads back to the table with the rest of the shots.

The bartender slides a glass over to you, complete with an artificial-looking cherry on top and a little red straw. You thank him politely and give him your last name for the tab.

“After that performance, it’s on the house, sweetheart. S’ just juice and sprite, after all.”

You laugh, but accept it graciously, and turn to Rhett. The stars are aligning more rapidly than he’d planned.

“So, you went to school with Em?”

Of course you call her Em. God, you’re a walking stereotype. This should be easy as pie. But something tells him you’re gonna take a little more effort than usual. You’re the responsible type, probably volunteered to be the DD because you don’t drink much. You definitely won’t abandon your girlfriends on a whim. So he smiles, and decides to play the long game. “I did.”

Your conversation confirms a few of his assumptions — you’re from out of state. Check. You’ve got the sorority girl smile and the pretty face. Check. It’s clear that you know how to party, but you’re educated. Intelligent. Responsible.

He asks where you went to school and listens with a smile as you tell him about the program you’d completed — and your research with agriculture. Oh, lord who art in heaven, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

It’s cute seeing you all excited like this, even if he only understands about every other word of your description of your research. After a minute or two you realize you’ve been talking his ear off, and apologize profusely.

“Don’t be sorry. S’ not every day a pretty girl at the bar teaches you something new about your own job.”

Oh, god. You fucked up. He watches it dawn on you, an amused smile on his face.

“D’you own a ranch up here?” You ask, a little embarrassed. “Emily said you were a rodeo rider.”

Oh, so you’d been asking about him earlier. That’s why she pushed you into the ring, to try and impress him. Hook, line, and sinker.

“My family does, yeah. Rodeo’s a tough business, don’t pay much. More of a hobby, I’d say.” He’s impressing himself now. A hobby. Sure. Like making those little ships in bottles, or fucking pretty girls in the backseat of his truck. Not just a dead end dream that might get him killed someday. “So now it’s your turn.” He says with a winning smile. “Whaddaya want to know?”

“Oh, that is way too broad of a question.” You laugh. “You didn’t come here to be interviewed, I’m sure.”

“And you didn’t come here to conduct research.” He nods toward the table where the rest of the bridal party sit, still talking and laughing. “Tell ya what. How about I give you a tour of the ranch on Monday, let you ask all the questions your little heart desires.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly-“ You start to decline, polite as ever, but he sees right through you, cocking an eyebrow as if to say really?

“I would love that.” You accept. “Thank you.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” He says with a sly smile, reaching for a spare cocktail napkin and bumming a pen from the bartender.

You try to push down the fluttery feeling in your chest while he scrawls his name and number onto the brown paper.

307-555-7184. Rhett. He crosses both the T’s with one short stroke and hands it to you.

You thank him again, taking your now-melted Shirley Temple and hopping down from the barstool to reunite with your friends. You clutch the napkin to your chest, heart racing at both the opportunity at hand and at the way he interacted with you — the sweet country-isms, that smile… you’re in trouble.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or did you get a phone number?”

“Indeed I did. But it’s not what you think. We got to talking about my research and he said he’d show me around the ranch sometime, for my thesis.”

“You know what he really means by that.” One of your less-inebriated friends says, giving you an older-sisterly look.

“I think he’s being genuine.” You defend with a huff, watching as he settles up with the bartender and steps down from his stool. “How many guys have actually listened to me talk about my research?”

“Like, none. Because it’s boring.” Another answers, clearly a little more buzzed.

“Thank you.” You say exasperatedly. “He seems to have a genuine interest-“

“In getting in your pants.”

“I wouldn’t complain about that.” You admit with a soft laugh, almost embarrassed.

That’s good to know. Very good to know. He tips his hat to you on the way out, and all you can think about for the rest of the night is how many hours there are until Monday morning.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #rhett outer range #rhett abbott x female reader #thats all the tags i got #pls let the rhett fuckers find this #I need to scream with someone #mine

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sunnytastic · 1 year

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i think Dennis, like many other sexual assault survivors, takes the mentality of "if sex doesn't mean anything, then nothing was taken from me." His conquest of sleeping with as many women as possible is a futile attempt to rewrite the narrative of his assault, to gain control of a situation in which he was powerless.

But sex with Mac.... sex with Mac would mean something. Dennis would be forced to acknowledge Ms. Klinsky violated him in a way that matters. He would have to acknowledge he hurt himself trying to cope by neglecting his need for intimacy.

It's not enough she stole something from Dennis as a teenager, but she also stole his life afterward. Dennis finally has the opportunity to fully be with the man he loves, and he just can't, because that means she won.

#i'm sorry about this one #sex poll to character analysis #i've got range #tw sex assault #tw sa mention #iasip #its always sunny in philadelphia #its always sunny #dennis reynolds #mac macdonald #macdennis #isa x sunny

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golyadkin · 3 months

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*Gets ejected from the Christian nightclub for being just the absolute most*

Drawings without club lighting below the cut

#alright yes i only drew this because i enjoy drawing kelvin in Outfits but he's just got so much range...#the righteous gemstones #trg #keefe chambers #kelvin gemstone #keefe x kelvin #fanart #art tag #also ignore that i don't know how to draw american money #i didn't care enough to learn how #i DID care enough to use a reference picture for adam devine for ONE (1) of these drawings #and just slowly degraded from there #keefe just looks like the saddest wettest dog in the world and that's accurate enough #hashtag let keefe wear skirts

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ofrandomthought · 2 years

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isn't it amazing how loid is both the bread winner and the trophy husband of the relationship???

#my man's got the range I'm telling you #spy x family

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fieryskies · 1 year

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More of a personal rambling - still Sebaciel related tho, but one rhetoric regarding mortal-immortal ships I've seen everywhere is something along the lines: "Why would an immortal be into an icky teenager and not a 25+ year old?"

To which my mind always answers: "What difference would it be between them to an immortal?"

Seriously. Logically, to me, it would be normal for an immortal creature to view humans with either contempt, neutrality or the sort of fondness/fascination one would reserve for their pet or a particualrly entertaining stray.

Think of animals. We know that they have different ages, but do we give them as much weight as we do to gaps between other people? A toddler and a middle schooler, a teenager and an adult? Of course not.

Again, personally, for a human to rise above this in an immortal's eye, it would depend on a unique characteristic they have, not whether they pay bills or not yet.

The mortal's age could be relevant simply because of how human development works and they could have gained experience that attracted the immortal's attention, but it's not a requirement.

People going to college, having a profession, a family - this is more or less part of the usual course. Same as high school classes and standard teenage struggles.

No it would need to be something else as the cause of attraction.

And so to tie this more into Sebaciel again, if I were to compare Ciel, someone more typical his age and the average 20-30 something people love to proclaim would make more sense as an immortal's love interest, I would still see Ciel as the logical object of affection

All of these to say, it matters more what personality you write for the character than what age you slap against his forehead.

#sebaciel #ton of characters in either age range i could not see sebastian throw a second look towards #and then you've got ciel and agni for both which make perfect sense to me #ciel x sebastian #kuroshitsuji #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #otp: monochrome kiss #black panther #sebastian x ciel

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annamariedarkholmes · 2 years

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if marvel doesn’t let anna paquin and the other fox/sony women over 25 in on this lil multiverse 401k scheme all the men have going i swear

this woman let hbo bleach her hair into straw for eight years just so she could play a better version of rogue!! forget j*red l*to and his zodiac killer loot crates, that’s commitment

someone tell disney it’s activism to pay bisexual icon anna paquin to throw ryan reynolds into dumpsters

someone tell ryan reynolds it’s activism to pay anna paquin to throw ryan reynolds into dumpsters

pay

anna paquin

to throw

ryan reynolds

into

dumpsters

#she!! has!! the!! range!!!#plus give her that mcu $ so she doesn’t have to do another ‘american underdog’ to finance her lgbt movies #rogue #anna paquin #deadpool #ryan reynolds #deadpool 3 #x-men #marvel #someone posted a list of ‘the multiverse cast so far!!!’ and everyone was oohing and ahhing #meanwhile it was just like #twenty white men and jamie foxx #she is owed for the years of nastiness she got from creepy men and jealous fangirls alike #her original x2 subplot was given to bobby #she was nerfed in x3 as punishment by ratner #she was cut from days of future past #she was written out of the wolverine and logan #unfortunately i highly doubt any adult women will be asked back #rebecca and famke have already called out the hypocrisy of the women getting recast while the men have lifetime jobs #halle’s said her oscar win is the only reason she had more than two lines in x2 and x3 #they didn’t even fucking ASK kiki dunst #these movies give them the same expiration date as leonardo dicaprio #if anyone else from fox returns watch it be like taylor kitsch lol #or the child who played laura who creepy grown men are already fixated on and desperate to have return

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professionalchaoticdumbass · 8 months

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Coelacanth III venting oxidizer as the sun rises 100 km over kerbin. Not quite as optimal as I'd hoped, but vast improvements over the previous iteration

#ksp #it's got a range that rivals procyon x (my jool 5 ssto) after ox gets drained but the twr is still terrible #it's getting a bit closer to my limit but it's still quite far from my goals. i think i can slap on some more engines with a larger overhau

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sebsxphia · 10 months

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Help I have a thot so rotten I need professional help.

Rhett is working and you rile him up - so.far so usual. At one point he snaps and ties you to a breeding stand and then proceed to mount you. All the while snarling how your going to be breed like an animal in heat when you act like one. No amount of pleading and begging will help you

￫ a/n: lemme fucking tell you something anon. i got this. read it. and was in shock for the next ten minutes. i love this so so so much it’s unhealthy 😵‍💫 welp! we’re going down!

￫ c/w: rhett using derogatory language towards the reader, comparing you to an animal in heat, rhett being mean and degrading to you, cnc, p in v, daddy kink, manhandling you, what’s in the ask is what you’re gonna get.

you’re both working in the barn through the afternoon, moving hay and other supplies, cleaning out the horses and keeping the rest of the livestock in check. the humid summer heat has past it’s highest point since midday, but you’re both still struggling through the heat. it’s unbearably hot inside your stuffy barn and understandably, you’re both agitated.

every so often when you pass by rhett, you squeeze at his bulging biceps or at his crotch that’s already supporting a semi from your heated touches. he lets out a low grumble the fifth time you pass him by and you mock pout at him.

“what is it, daddy?” you elongate the last part of your wording with a flirtatious touch and bat your eyelashes teasingly at him.

rhett’s jaw is set firm as he scowls at you. his eyebrows are knitted tightly together in frustration as he bites back at you. “quit it. you’re actin’ like a fuckin’ whore right now and it ain’t helping.”

“but, daddy—” you whine out again, but rhett is there to cut you off instantly.

“enough. fuckin’ help me finish this and maybe, i’ll be nice to y’ later.”

his tone is firm and unwavering, and you should know better than to push him, but you excuse the heat for your lack of better judgement.

“fuckin’ fine. i’m goin’ inside and finishing myself off, somethin’ you can’t do.”

that snaps the final cord of patience that rhett has inside of him for you. he’s quick to grab at your forearm with a bruising grip as you leave the barn. you yelp out and struggle against him as he manhandles you, pushing you closer to a corner of the barn. it overwhelms you how strong he can be. your thrashing is no use.

your eyes are wide when you see him dragging you closer to a breeding stand, yet you feel the inside of your stomach somersault at the prospect of what rhett is suggesting. you still go along with it however, pleading with desperation as he ties you to the breeding stand.

“r-rhett? what are you fuckin’ doin’?!” you land with a final thud as rhett pushes your neck down to rest on the head stand that would be used for animals. you’re bent over and on all fours, with your feet teetering and scraping along the hay covered floor. your dress is flipped over your ass and you feel rhett’s hot and calloused fingers hook inside your underwear and tear them completely from your frame.

“if you’re gon’ act like an animal in heat,” rhett’s voice behind you is an ugly snarl, his teeth biting at one another. “i’m goin’ to be breedin’ you like an animal in heat.”

you hear his belt buckle clang against itself before a harsh smack is delivered to your exposed ass and the backs of your thighs. in reaction, you let out a cry that ends with an embarrassing moan. you hate yourself for being so incredibly aroused by this, but you don’t hate yourself for playing into his fucked up little fantasy.

his hands grip tightly at the flesh of your hips as he mounts you like an animal himself. you let out another pleading moan as you feel his tip push through your folds.

“rhett! please, please—” you’re begging and pleading with him, but you don’t know what for.

another curt smack is issued to your ass as he stuffs himself full inside of you. “animals in heat don’t get a say in this, quit your whinin’ or i’ll stuff your mouth with a horse bit.”

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