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#anything goes
sprout-fics · 5 months
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Sex with Simon is intense. 
Physically, emotionally, sensationally intense. Simon handles you like he would a prized rifle, tracing his fingers across your grooves and indentations. His warm breath fogs across your spine, his hands guiding you into position so he can squeeze the trigger to your desire. He knows your body like he knows the fractured web of scars across his skin. He’s taken ages to find the parts of you that will make you whimper in utter overwhelm into the mattress, will make your thighs shake with the force of your climax. He disassembles you over and over and over again, only to put you back together better than you were. 
Simon is focused, completely involved in the process of defiling you- like he can’t get enough of the taste. When you first began sleeping together it was a rushed, sloppy affair. You’d catch each other after missions, in the evenings after training, getting back to the barracks after being out at the pub. Hurried hands and clashing lips, stripping each other with little regard for where the clothes landed, too eager to feel skin against skin. That had been when you were less than you were now, simply using each other to shake the anger and the fear of the world you lived in.
When things became softer, when you had cried into his arms and confessed you needed him, things changed. Simon eased at the sharp edges of him, allowed you to dip your fingers into the shallow end of his vulnerabilities while he kept himself still guarded under the surface. Each kiss, each breath, each roll of his hips against yours allowed you to drag him an inch closer to you, to sink yourself and drown in the depths of his scarcely concealed emotions for you. 
Yet there’s always an ounce of control that remains in his touch, as if he refuses to allow you into the shadows with him. It comes in the way his voice purrs down at you darkly, the hand on your hip dragging you upward to him with firm insistence. It comes in the way of him hushing you through a hiccuping orgasm where your body finally reaches the extent of its endurance. Simon is a force, domineering and insistent, forcing you to bend to the gale of him like a sapling in a storm. Yet his lips trace gently over the shell of your ear, whisper filthy, torrid praises there until your cry of pleasure muffles his voice.
He handles you the way he wants, forces you to buckle onto your front as he drapes himself across your spine with his thick and heavy weight. He growls down at you when you try to hurry him on, low in warning, and then coos at your glassy, lidded eyes. He holds your hand as he sets himself to devouring your slick folds, and you clutch at him as you buck and writhe because it’s so good. He dangles your orgasms out of reach until you beg, teary eyed and desperate, only to force you over the zenith with such power it snaps the synapses in your brain. His hand catches your face when you try to turn shyly from his chuckling, dark taunts of your reedy moans and breathless please. He sucks dark bruises just below your collar with a hiss of “Mine.” that would scare you with its possessiveness had you not entrusted yourself to him long ago.
You’re his. Completely. You didn’t know when you first met, and even then he refused to admit to himself what you were to him. Now, with every rumbling moan and dirty words whispered against your skin, you have no possibility of denying it. You’ve tangled the fibers of his soul in your fingers, tug on them so he falls into you. He doesn’t try to catch himself, merely wraps his arms around you and drags you to him with fervent, dizzying kisses that leave you breathless and reeling. Simon shapes you to him in the way you both need, and after every time you spend in his bed you feel the weight of his need for you in the sated sluggishness of your limbs, blissfully tucking yourself into his side. He turns your limp form to him, cups your chin to kiss you gently, hums a note of pride there in the hazy, dreamy stare you offer him. 
“Mine.” He whispers, as if to remind himself, and descends to your lips once more. You don’t need to be reminded. For you there’s only Simon. Even before you two touched for the first time, there’s never been anyone else. You’re his. 
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bestmusicalworldcup · 2 months
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thegoodmorningman · 6 months
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It's Friday, god damn it! If you're not partying, you're not paying attention!!!
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thewatcher98 · 1 month
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Don't ask me why but I LOVE this gif
All his poor little meow meow energy it's showing and for some reason I'm a sucker for it (am I a bad person??)
***Okay so this belongs to a @snappyjenkins gifset and you can find the original post HERE. I'm so sorry. Didn't mean to steal or anything. Unfortunately Pinterest had no link. Thank you @phoenixflames12 so much for telling me.***
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jessieren · 2 months
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Good morning…
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maturelittleme · 5 days
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Before I was mature I was an, " Anything goes" girl, and now, well I'm an, " Anything goes" woman. 😄
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HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND, GUYS. 💋 💋 💋
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doyouknowthismusical · 5 months
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luke-o-lophus · 20 days
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Be an angel and send me asks about Good Omens/Moon KNight/Wildlife/Bird/Personal stuff cuz why not. Or comment. Or DM. Anything.
I need to stay up overnight to finish a project. Haven't done this in a while and have already consumed too much caffeine. Did it calm me down? NOT REALLY
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rainbowcaleb · 2 months
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Crack theory: this is Ludinus’s childhood home. The house is scrubbed clean and empty so no one will know he’s from a very boring small town
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overture-contest · 5 months
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Round 1, Poll 16
youtube
Propaganda for Anything Goes:
It's just so fun and sounds so quintessentially musical-y and overture-y
youtube
Propaganda for Phantom of the Opera:
It's the Phantom of the Opera overture. It's THE overture. It needs no introduction. It's a 27-piece orchestra blasting your eardrums off while a giant haunted chandelier levitates over the the Majestic Theatre and the pipe organ rattles the audience in their seats.
When the full orchestra pauses for a moment then soars in with that melody, is possibly the best thing ever put to stage. I think you could invent books full of new adjectives to describe the experience of listening to the Phantom overture.
It is one of the most iconic, most well known overture, showcases all the music that will be playing perfectly, and is paired with the rising of the chandelier
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bloomingdarkgarden · 3 months
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Canonically hilarious that anyone in this digital hemisphere thinks their 7k long projections regarding any facit of acotar storytelling still hold weight now that a magic sjm bean exists lol.
magic. bean.
Elain wants to bear Illyrian children? Magic bean.
Rhys decides to be high king? Magic bean.
Eris wants to make Azriel his wife? Magic bean.
Anything goes. Magic bean or bust.
.... O no.
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thegoodmorningman · 6 months
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Wanna disco? Wanna see me disco?
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The word diva to me means doing something supernatural with something natural.
- Patti LuPone (b. April 21, 1949)
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The ultimate tournament!
You can submit anything, from an animal to a country. As long as its something. I will use it in this ultimate tournament. So submit, follow, and see what happens to the thing you submitted. Will it win the tournament? Or get blown away by the competition? Its up to you and the voters, wich will decide Tumblrs favorite thing!
It is to be decided whether i use 128 submission or 256. maybe i should let you guys take a vote on it?
tagging: @bestsiblingstournament@best-animal-bracket@ultimatepokemontournament@respectthewolf@randomreasonstolive@bestpokemonevertournament@bestgirlsnametournament@worstinsultsever@catsthatlooklikepinupgirls @lunarnamesbracket@dead-character-showdown @the-ultimate-tournament @hellsite-hungergames@dead-character-showdown @best-green-character @bestsiblingstournament @bestgirlsnametournament @best-fictional-cat @hellsite-hungergames @the-ultimate-tournament @thelittlestguy-tournament @the-nobody-tournament
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jessieren · 2 months
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So
In the absence of any more inspired thought
I’m going with the Sunday Shaun Special
Anything goes…
Your fave photo, gif, quote, interview, moment of our amazing man…
Here’s your starter for ten
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