#its my first time drawing a shirtless man

[bubuslutty]

omg its me the pec lover 🫣sorry yes 141😭 forgot to put who mwehehehhe

hey anon! thanks for this delicious ask!!

pairing: gn reader x (platonic? romantic? you decide) John Price, Simon Riley, Soap Mactavish, Kyle Garrick

warnings: none

price:

I know for a fact this man has a hairy chest. not TOO hairy. but hairy enough to be ticklish when you lay your cheek on it when he's shirtless.

and he has massive man boobs.

I said what I said.

reader would 100% randomly go up to him, asking for a hug or for comfort. and because price is price, he'll wrap an arm around them, to comfort them.

but what he doesn't expect is them just shoving their face between his pecs and groaning, the sound muffled by the material of his shirt.

and he's just standing there like 🧍‍♀️

and he smells nice, like cologne, soap, his own musk, tobacco sometimes when he's stressed and a hint of sweat.

when reader first ever did it, he almost died of embarrassment and confusion, but quickly got his shit together.

he couldn't even pull them away from him, he didn't really feel like it actually, because it looked like the reader was having a great time.

So now don't be surprised when u catch the captain laying somewhere, trying to take a nap with reader on him, face buried between his pecs, arms straight down their body, and sleeping as if it's the most comfortable position on earth.

ghost:

the first time reader buried their face in Ghost's pecs was in the excuse of a hug. it was easy, really, whining and just falling face first on him. and he didn't mind at first because in his head reader was gonna get up after like a couple of seconds. but they DIDN'T.

and Ghost was confused n lowkey suspicious, so he grabbed them by the back of their shirt, like a baby kitten, with one hand and ripped their face away from his chest.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing" 😇

Ghost simply placed them back on the ground and eyed them up and down, then left.

but reader was on a fucking mission, so anytime they had an opportunity to lay on ghost, they would, be it in the Heli, in hideouts, in the base, anywhere. until ghost has had enough.

"Bloody hell- what do you want?"

"Can I cuddle you on your chest, please? 😔🙏"

ghost just stared at them in complete silence. and when he didn't say anything for a whole minute straight, reader added, "I'll give you 10 quid."

"Keep your money." and he wrapped an arm around their neck and brought them straight to his chest, choking them for a minute.

and reader was in heaven, with their arms wrapped around as much as of him as possible.

"Thanks-"

"Shut up."

Johnny:

soap in my head is already very friendly and pretty physical with the people he cares abt. so it's not an unusual sight to see him hanging out with reader, on a couch, or on a bed, watching a movie on a laptop.

and he loves cuddling when the weather is cold enough, so they'd be tangled in each other, watching whatever movie is playing on the small screen while reader is drawing random patterns on his chest with their finger.

if reader is tired, they'll bury their face in his neck at first, trying to get comfortable and go to sleep. or they'll gradually slide down his body and end up with their face pressed against the swell of his pecs.

"They're soft. like pillows." reader would point out while wiggling around, trying to get comfortable.

"Yeah? they are?" Soap would laugh and puff out his chest, making the reader's head bounce a little and they'll laugh and then whine, "Stop it, I want to sleep."

soap would pat their head, "Use the bed, then."

"Nah, you're way better than a bed."

"Thanks?"

gaz:

when gaz noticed the small obsession reader has with his guy's pecs. he knew he was next.

So he was basically a bit nervous n hot around the collar when he found himself and his guys being squeezed into a car, bullets raining down on them.

and there wasn't enough seats in the thing, so reader had to sit on him, chest to back while shooting out of the window.

"You good?" They shouted above the utter chaos outside as Ghost tried to drive them to safety, with soap screaming at how he should've been the one driving instead.

"Yeah!" Gaz shouted back.

and when they were far enough that gunshots sounded so far away, reader took off their helmet and leaned back against Gaz with a deep sigh.

"You're comfy." They said with their eyes closed.

"Am I?"

"Uhum."

Gaz didn't miss how they would rub the back of their head against his chest, or how they would turn their head to the side and try to bury their face between his pecs, even though it was practically impossible in the tiny space the car had.

but you better believe reader tried anyway.

and the whole time he was flustered, trying to act as normal as possible, squeezing their shoulder once while they sagged against him.

I hope you liked this anon! I tried my best 😋

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs

#bubuslutty writes #bubuslutty ask #cod mw2 #call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #john price #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #gaz #Kyle garrick #gaz x reader #task force 141 #johnny mactavish x reader #soap #johnny soap mactavish #cod #cod mw2 headcanons #task force 141 x y/n #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 headcanons #task force 141 x gn reader

[leclerced]

during angels innocent beginning (pre sex with lando or oscar) maybe they are in the making out shirtless part of a relationship before you actually have sex?? and it’s just her and lan she gets a little bold and is still exploring but she pushes lando back onto the bed and licks a line from the base of his abs up to his neck and he is just like “baby you gotta stop , we have to wait for oscar” because he knows oscar is gonna want to be here for this. but he is all out of breath and feeling borderline subby and he knows she can’t handle being in control the first time and he is PRAYINF oscar walks through the door any second because my man is about to lose it .

-🪼

im sorry it took me hours to respond i was sleepy n needed to wake up from my nap n i smoked n i am ready. jelly this is incredible i love it so much. hope u like this bby sorry its messy 🫶🏻

angel’s getting more and more touchy with every day that passes and they’re lavishing in the feel of her lips and skin on theirs, even if it’s just making out, she’s taking their shirts off, or more importantly her own considering they both sleep shirtless half the time. it’s like they’re teenagers seeing boobs for the first time when they see hers and ask if they can touch them. i can imagine oscar went to the store to get something and angel wakes up from a nap and calls out for them because she had a… dream.

when she hears oscar’s gone, she gets a diabolical plan to mess with the little competition they seem to have going. she sits up, the blanket slipping away from her and revealing the snug little tank top and panties. they immediately catch lando’s attention, his gaze is drawn down to her body then back up in a flash as she kicks the covers away fully then coos, “i guess he’ll miss out on the fun this time.” she pats the spot next to her on the bed and lando wordlessly joins her, sitting on the edge of bed. her hands are on him before he can think, first on his shoulders to turn him towards her, then cupping his cheeks to draw him in for a kiss.

the fact that she’s taking control, even if it’s just the tiniest bit, sends lando reeling. it starts off slow, her soft hands cup his jaw as her softer lips move against his. one of her hands curls around his neck and teasingly tugs the hair on the back of his back so he sighs into her mouth. lando feels more control slipping when she nips at his lower lip, then she’s sucking on his tongue while she pulls his hair a little harder and he’s putty in her hands. everything she does gets a reaction out of him, the way his lips stutter against hers when she scratches his scalp and he sighs when she gives his hair a tug.

he doesn’t think it can get better or maybe worse for him until she’s breaking the kiss and pushing him back on the bed so she can redirect her lips to his neck. he tries to squirm away from her, clumsily climbing up into the pillows, but she just follows him and fits herself between his legs and looks down at him for a moment. he doesn’t know what she’s thinking as she worries her lower lip between her teeth, and he doesn’t have long to debate it before she’s tugging on the hem of his tshirt and he’s removing it.

lando doesn’t know what she’s doing but he can’t stop her, he needs to see how this will play out, but he’s not in the frame of mind to tell her how to do anything like she’ll want if she wants to go further, not when her lips immediately find the newly exposed skin and she begins licking and sucking at his lower abdomen. plus oscar isn’t there. he’s trying to form a thought other than please, more, because it’s all he wants, needs. but not without oscar. angel’s drunk on the reaction she’s getting out of lando, his skin is hot under her lips on his stomach, under her fingers as she rests her hands on his large thighs on either side of her. when she looks up at him, his chest is rapidly rising and falling and he’s got his gaze locked on her, eyes glazed over and lips parted dumbly, like he’s confused over something.

angel pulls back for a moment and he drops his head back with a sigh, thinking she’s done teasing, but she grins to herself before leaning back down and kitten licking at his v-line hesitantly. his hips almost jerk up, but he catches himself and grits his teeth, praying oscar is driving down the street or even better, about to walk in the door. he looks back down just in time to see her trail her lips to his belly button and then lick a stripe up his chest. he can’t fight his hips jerking up when her lips meet his after the erotic action, and he barely finds the resolve in him to mumble into the kiss, “baby, oscar- he’s not here, we can’t- we have to wait.” angel ignores him, she knows that they can’t do anything without oscar, but she concedes a little and resigns to kissing him until oscar gets home.

neither of them hear him entering their home or notice him entering the bedroom, until he’s climbing onto the bed and they feel the weight shift. angel practically vanishes from lando in the rush to get to oscar, eager to pull him in for a kiss. lando’s a hot mess and oscar gets the briefest glimpse at him and the sight goes straight to his cock. he knows angel is getting more confident in herself, can tell in the way she’s wearing almost nothing and is crawling into his lap. when she pulls away from the kiss, she skips hello and goes straight to asking, “have you ever licked lando’s chest? i think he likes it.” the casualness at which she asks the question stuns him, and he looks to his teammate, who kind of looks horrified, because that isn’t something either of them would have thought of? he tells her so and she grins like a kid showing off her new toy, then shifts back over to lando. he closes his eyes this time, unable to look oscar in the eye as she licks his stomach, a low moan erupting from his lips as she finishes by nipping at his collar bone, then draws back and looks to oscar for praise, “see?”

#ask #🪼 anon

[multifandomslxt]

🌸LIAR🌸

(Bsf brother! Yuta x Black Chubby reader)

Synopsis: Yuta, Y/n’s best friend's brother just came home from college to a beautiful surprise in the form of thick thighs, stomach pudge, puppy eyes, and a little bit of lies.

Warnings: Mentions of a kn*fe, smut and lies.

Word count: 1.8 k (ik I went overboard)

“Oh, Yuta’s coming tomorrow” My best friend of 6 years says to me in the most casual way possible.

I turn to look at her in shock “What?”

We were seated in a booth at our favourite diner ‘PHUCK ONMEI’.

Yup, its exactly that

We were having our weekly tea pill over some cherry cokes and cheesy fries when she just dropped this bomb.

“Lisa, I’m not fucking with you. What do you mean your brother’s coming tomorrow?”

She rolls her eyes and slams her tall class of coke on the table “My brother, Yuta Nakamoto - the man you’ve been wanting to jump your draws since first year high school - is coming tomorrow”

I slapped her hand at the rude but true comment.

I’ve had a crush on my best friend’s brother since the first day I saw him.

Lisa and I were 16 and chatting up in her living room and 16-year-old Yuta had walked out of his room shirtless with bed hair.

That was 7 years ago.

Ever since then, every time I saw him, I stared.

Back then, He confronted me many times about it.

He tilted his head and smirked

Holy fuck.

“See something you like You like Y/N”

“N-no”

“Shush bitch. At least pretend to be disgusted or something.” I stated.

You’d think someone would be upset at their best friend having a crush on their sibling but nope, not Lisa.

Matter of fact she encouraged it.

‘You lie when you’re flustered, and he lies all the fucking time. Match made in Heaven’. She would always say.

“I thought he couldn’t take time off this year” I said still trying to digest the news. Yuta had moved away to college three years ago and was currently studying to become a doctor.

More specifically a Gynaecologist.

Christ.

Lisa slurps the last of her drink and says, “That’s what he said but mom misses him and y’know when mom wants something she gets it”.

“True.” Was all I could say as my mind started to fill with thoughts of him.

I picked at my food for the rest of our little ‘gossip date’ until it was time to go.

The minute I stepped into my apartment I screamed in excitement.

“Holy shit!” I ran around my apartment smiling like an idiot.

“I’m seeing him tomorrow for the first time in three freaking years.”

As the evening went by my excitement began to be replaced by fear.

‘What If he doesn’t remember you?’

I feel like he does. He has to.

‘What if he brushes you off?’

 I mean we aren’t exactly family.

‘What if he hates what he sees?’

My skin crawled at my last thought.

Yes, my body changed over the past few years, but I wasn’t insecure about it.

My hips filled out nicely, my boobs were alright, and my ass was heavenly.

It rested on thick thighs that complimented my stomach pudge and back rolls…I was Hot.

“What’s not to like” I said out loud to no one in particular.

“Wear something sexy but cute tomorrow, mom wants you at the welcome dinner”. Was the last thing Lisa said before we parted ways.

Thank God I went shopping last week I know exactly what to wear.

://///////:::::::/::::::////////////////////TIME SKIP

“Hail Mary mother of G-” I was interrupted by a smack on the back of my head.

I rubbed my head trying to quell the pain “OW!”

“Cut that shit out. It’s just my brother not the coming of Jesus” Lisa hisses as rolls her eyes.

We were currently sitting in her living room surrounded by what Mrs. Nakamoto called ‘simple decorations’.

They were not simple.

Blue and white Balloons were all over the floor and there as a fucking 7-foot standee of Yuta at the front door.

Scared the living shit out of me when I got here.

“Mom says he’s on his way here.” Lisa says as she idly kicks a balloon.

I shrugged “Whatever.”

“What? All of a sudden, you’re not trembling in excitement anymore? That’s weird.”

I shrugged again “I wasn’t excited.”

Lisa looked me up and down and threw her head back laughing “Liar.”

//////////////////////////////TIME SKIP///////////////////////////////////////////////////

He came.

He fucking came like a storm.

He changed.

So damn much.

He walked through the door and heart fell to my ass.

Yuta Nakamoto did the fucking impossible and became hotter.

I watched as he hugged Lisa and his mother before turning to me who was standing behind Lisa.

I waited for him to say something…anything.

Instead, he did the unthinkable

“Who’s this?”

The world stopped.

Shame and embarrassment clawed at my chest.

Lisa gasped in shock and Mrs. Nakamoto swatted his arm.

“You don’t remember Y/N?”

His eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“This is Y/N?” he gestured to me in disbelief.

I smiled shyly and looked down “Yes, its me”.

I could feel his eyes on me. Taking me in.

I hope he likes what he sees.

We had dinner in comfortable conversations, revelling on past memories and Yuta’s school life.

Throughout the entire meal he didn’t even spare me a glance.

I felt dejected.

Soon it was time for dessert but Mr. Nakamoto who was supposed to be here earlier had called.

“Your father needs to be picked up from work again so I’ll have to go get him”. Mrs. Nakamoto said slowing standing from her chair.

“I’ll come with” Lisa said also standing from her chair.

“There’s cake in the kitchen” Mrs. Nakamoto says grabbing her coat and car keys, Lisa following close behind.

“Oh, I’ll cut it” I offered.

I needed to get away from him and take a damn breath.

I got up from my seat and headed to the kitchen leaving no room for Mrs. Nakamoto to object.

“Alright then, we’ll be back soon.” Mrs Nakamoto shouted out before closing the front door.

Great.

I grabbed the oven mitten and pulled the cake from the oven and setting it on the countertop.

I heard a chair scrape the ground and footsteps making their way towards the kitchen.

Soon, there was a presence beside me.

"Missed me?"

I peered up at the man I'd met a thousand times before. Before he left for Uni his hair was shorter

and he was slimmer. Now, his body was lean with muscle and his hair was so long that he gathered it

in a ponytail at the back of his head.

Nakamoto Yuta was a sight to see.

“N-no I didn’t”

Then he did that thing, the thing that almost made me loose my shit about a hundred times

He tilted his head and smirked

“Liar. I know you did”

I shake my head “You’re so full of yourself”.

 He chuckled “I know.”

I rolled my eyes and turned around reaching for a knife to cut the cake.

I could have imagined it.

I really could’ve.

But I’m pretty sure I just heard Yuta do a sharp intake.

I turned around to face him again “Are you okay?”

“You changed a lot” He ignores my question.

“yeah, I guess.” I said simply said.

He nods.

“And this dress…did you wear it for me doll?” He questions as his fingers skim across the fabric covering my breasts.

My breath hitches as I feel my nipples getting hard under the fabric “N-no I did not.”

He grips my chin causing me to look directly in his eyes.

“Liar”.

////////////////////////////////////// SMUT! NSFW SMUT! //////////////////////////////////////////

“You taste so fucking good baby” Yuta says gripping my thighs pulling them further apart as his tongue works between my legs.

We were still in the kitchen.

I was now on the countertop with Yuta between my thighs.

I could her him sucking and lapping at my juices.

His face was glistening and covered in it.

my mind was so foggy I could barely understand anything.

Suddenly my lower abdomen started to feel cramped, but I could tell something was different.

More intense.

“YUTA! WAIT!” I shout as I try to squeeze my thighs shut.

He uses his strength to keep them open. I try getting up only to be held down and pulled closer

“Don’t you fucking run from me.” He grunts.

Tears were streaming down my face “Yuta m’gonna make a mess”

“Not yet baby. Not fucking yet” he says standing up.

I whine in protest.

He pecks my lips to shut me up.

I can taste myself on his lips.

He grips my waist and helps me down form the counter

“I want you to sit on my face.” He says as I watch him lay on the kitchen floor.

“What?” I ask in disbelief. Staring down at him

He grunts and pulls me down by the hem of my dress making me fall on top of him.

“I’ll crush you” I state.

A sharp slap to my thigh causes me to screech “Sit. On. My. Face.”

I hesitate but go to hover over his face anyway.

“Y/N I said sit. Not hover” he says sternly

“But I don’t wa-” I was cut off as he grabs my hips and pulls me down immediately. His mouth latching to my pussy.

He continues licking and sucking eventually adding a finger.

“Oh fuck!” I shout as my eyes roll back at the intensity.

“Did you miss me?” He asks again.

“NO!” I shout

“Liar” he says adding another finger causing my body to jolt.

His fingers pressing into my Thighs keeps me in place as my thighs tremble and my orgasm builds.

“Yuta I’m gonna cum! I wanna cum!”

“Did you miss me? Ill let you cum if you tell me the truth doll.” He says as he places sloppy wet kisses on my clit continuing to pump his fingers in and out of me.

I shut my eyes tightly as a stray tear rolls down my cheek “YES! YES I FUCKING MISSED YOU!”

“Atta girl. Cum for me baby” he says from under me.

And I did.

I roll off to the side beside Yuta.

I was panting and so was he. Except I look like I just rana mile and he looks like he just had the best time of his life.

“I missed you too doll.”

///////////////////////////////////////END OF SMUT///////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Y/N! YUTA! We’re back!”

Lisa says as she walks in her Mr. and Mrs Nakamoto behind her.

Yuta and I already cleaned up and were watching TV.

“Hey!” I say smiling at them.

“Dad, you’re late” Yuta says mischievously causing Mr. Nakamoto to laugh heartily.

Yuta and his parent walk to the back patio to catch up leaving me and Lisa in the living room.

She takes a seat next tom me on the couch and says

“Bitch, the house smells like sex.”

#nct fluff #nct taeyong #nctzen #nct imagines #nct mark #nct smut #nct dream #nct jaehyun #nct yuta #nct scenarios #nct doyoung #nct bbl #nct fanfic #nct 127 #nct #nctinc #nct u #nct haechan #nct x reader #nct moodboard #multifandomslxt #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct x chubby reader #nct x black reader #yuta x reader #nct kpop

[shooters4logan]

Milo’s Guide to telling your co-workers (best friends/almost siblings/pack) that you have two lovers

Milo’s palms were sweaty as David stared him down, confusion painting his face. "So you're telling me you're dating not only a Stealth but an Unempowered guy as well?" David asked, pinching his nose.

Asher stifled a laugh trying to ignore Tank who was looking up at the ceiling. Christian leaned forwards and slapped Milo on the back in support, pearly whites on show.  Asher cleared his throat, drawing 5 sets of eyes in his direction. “Milo man, congratulations. I really would love to meet Guy and Sweetheart.'' He said facing Milo before turning to face the others, “I don’t really understand why it's such a shock that Milo ‘The Man-whore’ Greer is dating two people. A Stealth and an Unempowered? Yes, that did shock me. I would have expected two vamps with how much you like getting your dick sucked.”

Milo chuckled, a weight coming off his shoulders. Tank wrapped their arms around Asher’s neck, leaning their head down on the top of his. “You gonna tell us how you met?” they mumbled into Asher’s hair. Milo paused, scratching the back of neck. How was he supposed to talk about illegal shade-hunting and his insubordination in front of his Alpha? Everybody looked at him expectantly and he huffed, deciding to take advantage of David’s good mood to drop the bombshell. “Sweetheart’s an investigator in the department-”  Christian’s eyes widened,  “- and Guy’s a pizza delivery guy, but is pitching his script to a bunch of producers. There was a rogue shade and Sweetheart broke into my apartment to ask if I saw anything strange on a job we worked. I can’t lie, I was thinking with my dick but when a hot person is working a dangerous case, I offer to help.” 

David glared at Milo, a thousand words flashing through his head. Milo shrunk slightly before continuing his story; “We found the shade and hunted it down, but it was pretty strong. I got hit in the stomach, five inch gash and the shade had sweetheart by the neck, ready to take their life-force. Out of nowhere Guy appears, ramming his car into the shade like a knight in grimy red uniform. He bought us enough time for me to shift and Sweetheart to cloak. Guy then threw a boiling hot four cheese pizza on the shade and let’s say it died from its injuries. We ran before the department could book us for being vigilanties. Sweetheart dealt with the initial report and all three of us ended up in Sweetheart’s apartment and ended up making out for the next three days. Once again I was thinking with my dick but when you have two really hot people shirtless in front of you, it’s basically inevitable. We’ve been dating ever since.” 

The room fell silent.

Milo gulped.

Asher blinked.

David laughed.

Hand on chest, he laughed with his belly. The whole room vibrated with his laugh, and for a moment it was as if Gabe had never died. Stress washed off his face and laugh lines reappeared around his mouth. David slung an arm around Milo, “I can’t lie, I always thought Christian would be the first of us in a relationship. But I’m really happy for you. I also am really happy about the $100 I just won.” Milo threw his arms up in the air, watching as money was placed in David’s outstretched hand. David split the pile, handing half of it to Milo before ushering him out.

Milo drove in comfortable silence, rain drumming down on his car. He got out of his car quickly, reading messages in the groupchat as he walked inside the apartment complex.

The Smexies

My Guy 🍕: Working a long shift today, I’ll bring dinner.

My Guy 🍕: and treats for Aggie, can’t forget the little guy.

My Sweetheart💌: Don’t worry about drinks we still have a shitton of mountain dew.

Milo: I SAID I WAS SORRY.

My Sweetheart💌: SORRY IS FOR THREE BOTTLES 

My Sweetheart💌: NOT 12

My Guy 🍕: LOL

Milo: You can’t laugh Guy

Milo: I still remember the coffee incident. 

My Guy 🍕: YOU SHUT UP

Milo turned the key inside the lock and was greeted by Aggro circling his ankles. He took his shoes off and petted his cat with both hands. Sweetheart lay on the sofa, one arm grazing the floor. They turned to look at Milo, who walked over to them and leaned down, kissing them gently on the lips, a hand behind their neck. “Hi.” They whispered against Milo’s lips. He kissed them again before lying down on them, face hidden in the soft skin of their collarbone. Aggro jumped up onto Sweetheart’s stomach as the front door opened again, Guy stumbling in with takeout bags in his hands. He flicked his work hat off his head before collapsing onto Milo and Sweetheart, nose resting against Sweetheart’s cheek. Milo leaned forwards and kissed Guy, brushing the sweaty hair off his forehead as Sweetheart kissed Guy. 

“Long day at work?” Milo asked his lovers, receiving groans in return. He chuckled, closing his eyes as Guy recounted how he had been roped into becoming a mascot for a children’s party.

#redacted asmr guy #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted asmr milo #redacted asmr sweetheart #milo x guy x sweetheart

[typekiku]

TSUKIHIME FASHION REVIEW 3!!!

under the dark crimson moon, i write this newest entry of the much awaited much beloved tsukihime fashion review.

it's a duty i must carry out for the sake of the generations of lost sheep both before and after my time that have yet to truly appreciate the true depth of style that is contained within the single greatest visual novel known to mankind (according to me)

yet, i feel as if i am not doing my duty to its fullest... how can i possibly adequately sum the glory of todays fashionista? how can i dare attempt to sum that up?? no! i cannot waver in my faith in my incredibly lacking writing skills nor fear people figuring out this barely has anything to do with fashion... I WILL PERSEVERE!!

on with the show as the youth say!

(SPOILER ALERT: i should mention ill probably end up spoiling a shit ton of oghime and whatnot here so watch out)

so without further ado todays subject is:

drum roll

MORE DRUM ROLL

thanks uhh whatever you are from

MICHAEL ROA VALDAMJONG

yes the one and only roa

BROA

the legend himself, the Serpent of Akasha, Uroboros, the founder of the burial agency, the infinite reincarnatior, and professional Arcueid simp.

we have gathered here today to judge his design and uh fashion ig and whatever else i feel like ranting today about.

lets get right to it.

look at this dude all shirtless and shit like cmon so shameless... cover em up damn. seriously tho this man has a thing for showing off his (or should i say others) bodies like you will see soon.

i guess this comes down to him enjoying the freedom of being fully in control of whatever body he is currently occupying actually?

maybe this is some super deep look into the merits of semi nudism or whatever idk im not smart.

probably takeuchi just wanted an excuse to draw some seriously ripped abs actually i mean this might seriously be the most abby abs we ever see in any TM work. its fucking shredded and roa probably knew that. weirdo

on the flipside that majestic hair is simply incredible. DAMN thats some 10/10 hair. only other hair in this series that compares is my wife arcueid's long hair before her mean little (Older actually but idc) Altrouge got all mean and shit.

umm who is this? what happened to my incredible haired roa?? TAKEUCHI WHERE ARE YOU??? someone please give me back long haired roa... this isnt funny...

do you see what we lost? long gorgeous haired roa should've stayed and im genuinely upset we lost him to this admittingly much better dressed roa. im ashamed of you serpent of fraudkasha

fr tho where tf did he even get this rockstar ass drip anyways? we know SHIKI has been locked up in the outside house for awhile before released thanks to a certain maid... did he just drop by the local hot topic or whatever? did he manifest it through sheer willpower and arcueid simpery?

understandable tbh i too acheive things through arcueid simpery such as dirty stares and social exclusion!!

for reference, here is SHIKI

yea

i guess he just uhh changes him which in hindsight is really fucking sad to think about so lets not

uhh ANYWAYS

ok so ignoring ciel on the right elesia or should i say roa decides the very first thing hes gonna do in poor elesias body is to strip it naked

huh?

yea roa is definitely a weird one. no wonder the other ancestors hate him (besides nero because he is #HIM)

sick cape tho

why is he so hot here actually? what the hell? i underestimated his looks like damn

no really why is he so hot anyways he should look like an absolute freak like he actually is. i see you roa. i see you got that long braid wrapped around your neck like damn son... you may have fallen in love with a literal killing machine and never even got to speak to her till the very very end but i see you.

rizzless bastard.

well thats enough from me so ill drop this classic mahoyo line because i found it very funny without context.

ciao!

#type moon #tsukihime #roa #broa #serpentofakasha #arcueid brunestud #ciel #shiki

[izzysthirstposting]

18+

Izzy and Stede finally get it on by themselves, a sneak park of some future content in my fic, Blood and Oil. I will admit, this fic is a massive undertaking, so my apologies if it’s slow, if you like it, I’ll try and write more consistently-

Stizzy content, implied SteddyHands, Izzy is trans, Ed is mentioned, Ed is trans

“So what now Bonnet?” His hair plastered against his forehead, sweating, still shirtless from their lesson.

Stede sucked in a breath, looking down at the red face of the smaller man, he was sure he was achieving a similar hue himself. He’d been running this over in his head for weeks on end. He’d watched what Ed did to Izzy, Fuck, Stede had relished watching what Ed did to Izzy. The man reduced to a whimpering mess begging for more, always more. The few times Stede had been directly involved with Izzy, Ed was usually there to guide him.

“Yeah now gently, small circles, a little faster, good boy…” Stede snapped back to the present, erasing the picture of Izzy ass up in front of him while Ed guided him from his mind. Izzy was pressed in close, face and chest flush, staring hard at Stede.

Stede swallowed hard. He got the idea Izzy wouldn’t be so docile with him. Stede breathed deeply, and made a move, pressing back against Iz, making him take a few steps back until Izzy’s back was flush with the desk. Stede paused. Izzy’s chest was heaving, and Stede was becoming more aware of a familiar burning sensation across his own cheeks. For a split second, the fire dwindled in Izzy’s eyes and was replaced with that softer look he always gave Edward in the bedroom, or closet, or anywhere for that matter. Maybe his earlier idea was wrong, go figure.

Locking eyes, Stede whispered “Yeah? You’re sure?” To which Izzy responded, “Shut the fuck up and do something already.”

Stede took little time after that requests and brought a gentle hand around the back of Izzy’s neck, bringing hint in for a kiss.

IZZY POV- NEXT CHAPTER START

Izzy was furious. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet and his idiotic sword fighting lesson. (Though he must admit, he was improving.) Stede Bonnet and his stupid red cheeks and huge eyes and feigned innocence. Izzy knew what Stede was after. Ed had brought it up to Izzy one night while Stede was away, then they had all talked about it together. Yes, Stede wanted to fuck Izzy, and he would never admit how much but dear GOD Izzy wanted Stede. That strange man had topped Ed , had the much more experienced pirate in absolute ecstasy, despite minimal prior experience.

Normally Ed pulled out his strap, and whatever soul wound up underneath him was pounded until they couldn’t walk straight. The times Izzy had watched and been in bed, Stede was gentle, deliberate, being so meticulous that one might think he was drawing it out, teasing. The three or four times Stede had touched Izzy, he found himself screaming profanities new to himself as he came, needing a few minutes to catch his breath. Even when Ed was on top, he and Stede were so much slower, deliberate, it made Izzy crazy.

He now found himself, nearly sitting on Stede’s desk, cock insatiably hard just from Stede walking him backwards across the room. Then Stede placed a hand around the back of his neck and fucking hell did it take every ounce of Izzy’s being to not throw himself forward. He did meet Stede halfway, inviting the exploratory kiss the blonde initiated.The first one was all lips, chaste, almost awkward. Stede broke away for a moment, those enormous eyes scanning over Izzy’s face, waiting for the slightest hint that Izzy wanted to stop.

Despite himself, Izzy whined. A small, thready thing that wormed its way out without Iz inviting it, but that seemed to be the encouragement that Stede needed. Stede twined his fingers into Izzy’s tousled hair, pulling him in for a kiss that was tongues and teeth, nipping and licking, the kind that left Izzy’s lips swollen and red, and his hair even more disheveled. Stede pushed a thigh between Izzy’s knees, spreading them apart, and broke from Izzy’s mouth to kiss down his jaw and neck.

Izzy whined again, needier. He felt his face flush at the thought of Stede Fuckin’ Bonnet already having him worked up like this. Stede’s other free hand made its way to Izzy’s waist, then chest, then playfully thumbed over Izzy’s nipple, making Iz suck air through his teeth in a hiss. God Stede really was paying attention to Ed during those lessons. Not only that he remembered stuff he’d only watched Edward do, and was executing it with cruel precision. Stede sucked at Izzy’s collarbone as he rolled Iz’s nipple between two fingers, drawing a short string of expletives from Izzy’s mouth.

Stede’s hand abandoned its quest on Izzy’s chest, and sneaked down to the lacing on the leather pants. Stede loosened them slightly, then slid his hand down to cup Izzy’s cunt.

Izzy bit his lip and stifled a groan. He wanted so badly to press himself into Stede’s hand, desperate for some friction.

“Israel, if at any point you want to stop you just say so,” Stede said between kisses.

“Stede Bonnet for once in your life shut up and fuck me already,” Izzy replied through heaving breaths.

Stede beamed. “So I’m doing well?”

“Yes you’re doing well you fucking twat can we possibly move this along somewhere more comfortable?”

Stede smiled, that fucking fuck.

Izzy let himself be eased down, not realizing he was practically sitting on the desk at this point. Stede guided him across the room and sat him on the edge of the bed. Agonizingly slowly Stede traced his splayed hands across Izzy’s thigh, using one to deftly undo the buckled that held on Iz’s prosthetic, keeping the other firmly pressed against the inside of Iz’s opposite thigh.

Once his leg was safely removed, Stede gently placed it on the floor under the bed. He was so damned considerate.

#izzyhands #trans izzy hands #steddyhands #stizzy #ofmd fanfic #stede bonnet #blackbeard #edward teach

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

The second part of 'I'll always be holding you' is going so slowly--so here I am, indulging my impatient need for a wee bit of input by publishing a snippet.

from my Defender Strange x Female Reader fic

here be passion, a taste of angst--and soft Defender Strange

Defender Stephen has returned to Kamar-Taj to discover that the woman he loves had been seriously injured and traumatized, while performing a routine exorcism. After months of mutual longing, they finally give in to the love that has flourished between them.

Your back still rested against the propped-up pillows, while you watched Stephen pull his shirt off over his head and let it fall to the floor, with that same swift grace that always left you speechless. Breathless. And filled with the desire you’d been silently denying could ever be set free. Your mind flashed back to that evening in the sauna and your first sight of him shirtless. How you’d tried so damn hard not to stare at his strong, broad shoulders and his muscular biceps and chest. You had been awestruck by the markings of his battle scars and tattoos upon first sight, but now--knowing him as a man, instead of as hero and leader and the Sorcerer Supreme—you didn’t have to forgo the urge to touch him. To memorize with your fingertips—and later, with your lips—the chronicle of his service, and to cherish each marking with the tenderness which he deserved.

You laid the tips of your fingers upon the thin, vertical scar nearby his tattoo tribute to his sister; later, in the warm and loving afterglow, he would reveal it had resulted from his first encounter with dark magic and it had been a miracle that he’d survived at all. At your tentative touch, Stephen’s eyelids fell shut while his mouth fell open with a soft moan, reminding you how touch-starved he must be. “Tell me,” you murmured, softly tracing along its length back and forth and back again, “If not now, but as our time together unfolds. Tell me the stories behind each of these…”

You laid your palm on his shoulder, to smooth you hand down onto a far fresher weal upon the firm curve of his bicep, “I want to know everything, Stephen. And thank you for every danger that you’ve faced and all the pain you’ve borne for the sake of keeping the world from harm.”

He nodded, opening his eyes to meet yours, pledging as he moved close enough to breathe light, lingering kisses on your cheeks and chin, these promises, “Every secret of my body…every truth that my soul houses…are yours for the asking, Y/N. And my heart I’ll trust to your hands alone.” Stephen was patient as he took your lips, slowly, deeply, stealing your breath. Remarkably gentle as his tongue teased yours--drawing a soft sound of relief from your mouth into his, while its thrust gradually grew more insistent. He cupped your face in both hands, again more gently than you had ever imagined he could. You’d seen how strong a man he was, witnessed his imposing physicality, yet the care he took with you now was that of a gardener nurturing the tenderest flower in his care. Your whole being was flush with joy and filled with your willingness to give Stephen whatever he might desire.

He withdrew and you both gasped for breath as one. “My darling…my precious Y/N,” he whispered as he brushed his lips onto your cheek again, softly spoiling your skin with his full, tender lips. You had slid your hand up to the nape of his neck, laying the other laid flat over his heart, lost in the sweet kisses he continued brushing on your face—until you realized he was placing them upon the half-healed cuts that marked your cheeks and forehead from your battle with the demons. Stephen trailed his lips along your jawline too, to linger softly on the bruise marking the shelf of your jaw. “Oh, Stephen…” you sighed, weak with awe to receive such loving care.

Then he moved down to nuzzle your neck and you nested your fingers in his hair. His whiskers only tickled you briefly as you got used to them and they were softer than you’d expected. As heavenly in their way, as everything about him. He’d drifted his hands to your shoulders, painting your throat with soft, moist kisses, while the warmth of his breath made you shiver, in anticipation of the pleasures to come. The give and take of the love it felt like you’d been waiting forever to share. “Mmmmmm…you’re so good to me, darling…”

“And I swear- I’ve only just begun,” he rumbled, and then nosed his way up to graze your earlobe, while sliding his right had down to cup your breast. “Oooo, sweet baby,” he panted against your ear, not even trying to hide his surprise, “You’re not wearing anything beneath this…”

“Mm-uhhh…” your lips parted with a sigh at the gentle flex of his large hand upon you, delighting you in how fully you filled it. “I wasn’t expecting company, you know…”

“Yet…here we are…at last…” The warmth of his breath on the delicate shell of your ear as he trailed off, raised goosebumps cascading across your skin and all down your arms. You felt the raw hunger of his voice as a thrill in the pit of your belly and an unmistakable need at the apex of your thighs...

tagging: @harlekin6 @valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn @doctorstrangeaskblog

#my writing #Defender Strange x Female Reader #snippet #'I'll always be holding you' part two #'I'll always be holding you' #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange fan fiction #stephen strange fan fiction

[midasinc]

enjolras & marius?

yeahhHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!

enjolras:

-he has a really bad fingernail biting problem. they've been reduced down to stubs and he chews at his cuticles too. it's a mixture of stress and a habit he had as a kid that his parents never really noticed to correct. he's been doing it for 25 years, so it feels impossible for him to stop

-he also has hella cowlicks. im projecting bc i do too but it's so difficult for him to find a hairstyle that works because there's always a piece jutting out of place. in canon era he normally just tries to hide this with a hat and in modern era this man does not give a fuck at all. dude has the most insane hair just because he lets it stick up in its natural positions

-modern era enjolras is a pickles/olives friend. he loves briney stuff and picks them off of combeferre and courfeyrac's foods when they dont want them. he relishes in snacks like that and pickles his own stuff. it's a new hobby he just picked up and now his fridge is full of various pickled things

-he's a sagittarius sun, leo moon, taurus rising (just for funsies)

-enjolras's closet is full of muted colors. he wears very bland clothing but people don't tend to notice because they're focused on him himself. it drives some of his fashion-focused friends up the fuckin wall because they'll hear someone go "he's just so wonderfully attractive- that waistcoat looked so good" and whatever bullshit and they wanna scream because it's the most boring piece of clothing in reality

marius:

-idk how many times i need to push this onto my mariuses, but he loves miniatures. whether that be making little ships in canon era or planes in modern era, this guy loves miniatures. he also likes to unwind by watching videos of people making miniature scaled rooms. it's something he wants to get into, on top of the planes and such. something in his brain is such sooooooo scratched by tiny versions of big things

-he has a large birthmark on the back of his shoulder. honestly he forgets it's there until he's shirtless and someone is like "woah dude" just out of surprise. cosette likes tracing the shape of it when she can't sleep and just wants to relax

-modern era marius smokes weed for the first time with courfeyrac and enjolras when he's like 23. he's been raised with this very negative view of weed in general bc he's been scared into thinking it's like fucking meth. anyway this dude takes maybe 2 good hits off a pipe and is outrageously high (it happens). dude just ends up on the floor watching cooking videos for like two hours before falling asleep there. he doesn't smoke much after that

-he also has hyperactive sweat gland disorder. in canon era he struggles a lot with sweat stains because some days it goes through several layers and is visible. he likes to wear a lot of dark clothing because it's less noticeable on those days

-canon era marius tries sketching out his friends faces after everything. he tries really hard to remember and get it down so he never forgets. when he's unable to draw particularly well or cant get a feature right, it kinda breaks him. he just wants to get what courfeyrac looked like down on paper, but he's just not that artistically skilled to do it. it gets worse when he starts forgetting what his features were. there are a lot of stress-induced breakdowns with marius surrounded by crumpled sheets of paper and smudged charcoal on his hands

#kind of a mood killer at the end #sorry about that #TY FOR THE ASK! these 2 are like gerbils i wanna put in my hands and just Observe #les mis #les miserables #les amis #les amis de l'abc #enjolras #marius pontmercy #tw death mention

[matoitech]

HELLO for the one character design ask thing: glance, motion, canvas, bling, and favorite for elle!! ALSO not exactly one of the asks but for your ocs in bands: how do they dress onstage vs day-to-day?? :0

HI YIPPEE ELLE QUESTIONS! also that band one is rly interesting.. lemme do elle first

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

good question.. maybe her thick facial stripes? she has very fluffy cheeks and i like her hair too so maybe that. she has a kind of sleepy looking face

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

she tends to 'stroll' would be the best way to describe her slower gait i think, or 'stride' and move with purpose! she leads with her shoulders and has heavy footing i think. not particularly coordinated but not super clumsy, her only flexibility comes from doing stretches pre workout and her arms/fingers/wrists move easily from being a musician playing bass. i dont know if her clothes rly help or hinder her range of motion she just wears like normal person clothes. they might seem kind of constricting to blue if he tried something like a button-up (he hates buttons) but their styles dont rly match up theyre both masculine in different ways

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

she probably does have scars here and there just from living life but i wouldnt specify them on a ref sheet or really add them in drawings i think, but she doesnt have tats or piercings atm. she likes the look of them she just isnt really interested in them for herself. i think if she did get tattoos she wouldnt care about displaying or covering them she's just walking around

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

she doesnt usually wear jewelry she'd probably just motion to her hearing aids and say they count. she may wear rings sometimes but likely not anything else. sometimes she might borrow or wear blue's dog tags (that can signal MANY different things in their relationship or lack thereof at the time)

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

shes probably got cool work boots she likes that she wears constantly! she also wears cowboy hats sometimes so shes probably got some favorites she got in texas she keeps with her. i dont think she wears them a lot though

---

now for the other question, how my ocs in bands dress onstage vs day-to-day.. its a good question i think it rly just depends! ill go thru them tho.. its mostly blues band with a couple other ocs tossed in there, not all my musicians but not all of them perform on stage and also quite a few of them r newer characters or r going thru design changes so it might not stick if i did include them anyway

blue: it does depend on the show but typically i do think he dresses up more on stage but its mostly in like leather harnesses and spiked wristbands and stuff, maybe more of his piercings in and necklaces, tail bands and stuff. underneath maybe shirtless or in a tank top/black t (that he'll probably throw off at some point) with leather pants maybe, shoes that r comfortable to run around on stage for a few hours in. at home hes just in like a tank top and sweatpants lol. he is not dressing up at home. archetypal masc fits

elle [blues band]: she dresses slightly punkier (wristbands or jewelry maybe) or leans into her country roots more on stage than just day-to-day where she probably wears button ups or something. i could see her dressing kind of like an old southern man ngl lol

dakota [blues band]: ive been struggling w their clothing style at ALL tbh at first i thought i wanted smth more feminine for them then i leaned more masc at the moment im thinking maybe like goth-y punk-y emo androgynous SPECIFICALLY the kind of androgynous associated with that scene. on stage probably lots of black and layers, spiked collar and maybe a leash, etc. dakotas fur color palette is pretty grayscale so i think they lean into that with a lot of black outfits, maybe with splashes of electric blue like their eyes. probably that teal harness sometimes i drew them in on their th

malani [blues band]: shes goth as fuck and she loves skulls i honestly dont think her style changes that much i think she dresses up in her full goth getup to go to the grocery store. shes probably careful about her jewelry on stage tho bcuz shes the drummer and doesnt want her shit to go flying off or tangling with anything when she gets into it

kaisa [blues band]: kaisa probably leans punkier during shows than she does in her general life but not too hard, she likes green too much to commit to an all black ensemble and their music also doesnt like, require that anyway lol. she might wear camo or something on stage more than in her daily life. she likes layering her clothes but doesnt as much during shows cuzit gets WAY too hot

cain: he leans a lot more 'hardcore' in his shows than he does inhis daily life hes giving like hard fem black spikes tall boots but i have no idea what he wears in his daily life his whole thing is being a mystery. he IS fem in his daily life too but he leans into it strongly and in a VERY specific way with how he comes off to the public and how hes decided to take control of being perceived

griff: honestly probably dresses wilder in his daily life than he can at shows but i know his ass is going crazy at his shows too. he is all about the performance and his stage name should probably be icarus. maybei should change it.. it would be on the nose but i dont think it would be the way he'd view himself or name himself at all so

damn those were the only ones.. i always think i have so many musician ocs that perform but i guess i DO have an excuse to make more.. -> doesnt look at the characters that just need design changes n stuff

#thank u !!! u always have such interesting questions i love answering them :3 #keymintt #asks #ocs

[stelly38]

Yes, it’s an old article, but this is the sort of taking-the-piss-out-of-it I LIVE for.  It gives me liiiiife, darling.  This is by Patrick Freyne, in the Irish Times, dated June 11, 2017.  Hilarious!  (and that’s not the photo that came with the article; I grabbed this one off the nets.)

Poldark: He’s so fertile, I may have got pregnant watching him

18th century mining mogul, stealth Irishman and professional hunksman Ross Poldark is very fertile. As someone who has studied 18th-century medicine (the points were low) I believe this may be due to all that cliff-top horse-riding he does and possibly regular leechings.

And so Ross's first love, Elizabeth, is pregnant with his child but married to his arch-enemy, the upwardly mobile rotter George Warleggan. This is the key dramatic driver of the new series. The elitist banker Warleggan is, once more, pitched against the tin-mining man-of-the-people Poldark, as if they're the protagonists of some sort of olden-days Brexit.

We know Warleggan (Jack Farthing) is a baddy because he enjoys the effete pastimes of the age – thwarting villagers and standing in a drawing room with his hands behind his back and a puss on him.

In contrast, whenever we cut to Ross (Aidan Turner) and his saintly wife Demelza (Eleanor Tomlinson) they are carrying bales of hay, or pumping water, or punching sheep, or wrestling horses. They are generally to be found breathing heavily and perspiring, with a lock of hair in their faces, something which has no effect on the general viewer whatsoever.

Poldark, all in black, his brow furrowed like an Olde Tyme goth, has much on his mind. Demelza wishes he didn’t always “rise before dawn” Fine-Gael-style as he walks by, once more, carrying a cow over his head or something. “Everyone has shadows,” he explains later. “The trick is to outrun them.”

This shows a basic and panicky misunderstanding of the science of shadows, but we’ll let it pass. It’s the 18th century.

Over in Warleggan’s place George is trying to wean the family off Ross’s earthy influence. There’s Ross’s Aunt Agatha, who hints darkly about disasters to come from the corner of the room, much like a newspaper columnist or Twink.

And then there's Elizabeth's son, Geoffrey Charles, who has never read any old English novels about what happens to the first children of remarried English aristocrats, and so is unwisely insolent towards George.

In a moment of rebellion, he runs off with Ross who shows him how to manfully batter the inside of a cave with a pickaxe, thus inculcating him with a transgressive love for manual labour and, possibly, shirtlessness.

Actually, Ross keeps his shirt on for this episode, leaving the more explicit hunking to two new characters, Demelza’s brothers, the wannabe preacher Sam and the Canadian hip-hop artiste Drake (editor’s note: um, I think that’s a different Drake, Patrick).

This tuneful duo arrives to bring news that Demelza’s father is dying, and we are promised, in a teaser for next week, that one of them will divest himself of his horrible chafing shirt. Shirts are so uncomfortable. I regularly take my shirt off, because, as you know, typing is manual labour (editor’s note: that reminds me, you’ve a meeting with HR today, Patrick).

There are minor subplots. Caroline Penvenen, a friend and local pug-farmer (well, she has a pug), is marrying noble military doctor Dwight Enys in defiance of her kindly, slowly-expiring guardian Bergerac (John Nettles). Geoffrey Charles also bonds with his new governess, his cousin Morwenna, who gazes lustfully at hunky Drake, no doubt contemplating his Hotline Bling.

Poldark is, as always, almost bizarrely gripping and entertaining. Possibly due to its roots in the novels of Winston Graham, it never undermines its historical strangeness with high-concept notions or overly prescient references to the internet or the millennium bug or Jeremy Corbyn. It looks amazing. Everything is sun-dappled or candle-lit.

The tense omnipresent soundtrack is, somehow, never intrusive. The striking-looking, charismatic actors never undermine the dark, morally problematic melodrama by winking to camera.

And then there's the beautiful, ocean-battered coastline of Cornwall along which Ross and Demelza ride when in emotional turmoil and which some liken to "another character on the show".

Sadly, it hasn't yet been given any lines ("Whatsa matter Mister-a-Poldark?" for example) but it is spectacular. It is, as you know, played by Timothy Spall.

It’s the 18th-century so life is hard. There are references to the war which will, I think, dominate later episodes. There are two deathbed scenes (for nice Ray Penvenen/Bergerac and Demelza’s brutish father) and a difficult childbirth scene which all occur under the eerie shadow of “a black moon”.

Elizabeth spends the episode trying get thrown from a horse or flinging herself down stairs in fear that George will listen to Aunt Agatha’s hints about the child’s parentage and figure out that Elizabeth is nine months and not eight months pregnant.

The latter action apparently causes her to go into labour. Ross spends a bit of time lurking outside the window spying at this point, which is pretty weird behaviour even for him (this show expects you to forgive a lot).

Anyway, it’s very important for Elizabeth that there’s no indication that she might be giving birth to Poldark’s child. The baby comes out shirtless, brooding, riding a small horse and wearing a tricorn hat.

“He favours you, I think,” says Elizabeth to George, chancing her arm.

“Yes,” says George, a little desperately, as the baby moodily gallops along a clifftop with a sheep under his arm. “I see the resemblance.”

Back at the Poldark residence Demelza tells Ross that she too is pregnant, and to be honest, after an hour watching I’m feeling a bit pregnant myself. “Curse my hunky fertile genes!” cries Ross Poldark shaking his fist at the heavens in anticipation of an excitingly tumultuous eight episodes to come.

Okay, he doesn’t say the last bit but you get the picture. That Poldark, what’s he like?

Link to original if you like:

https://www.irishtimes.com/culture/tv-radio-web/poldark-he-s-so-fertile-i-may-have-got-pregnant-watching-him-1.3116115

#poldark series #taking the piss #thank you #funny review #patrick freyne #period dramas

[kharti]

[ Drown My Will to Fly #15 ]

      ( first | prev | next )

How did someone fall in love?

And how did someone make their love reciprocated?

Izzy paced the deck with his arms folded behind his back. The wind had abandoned them, leaving the boat to drift idly and bake under the afternoon sun. It made it easier to think without his surroundings rocking around him.

      ( Continue reading on AO3 or... )

How did someone fall in love?

And how did someone make their love reciprocated?

Izzy paced the deck with his arms folded behind his back. The wind had abandoned them, leaving the boat to drift idly and bake under the afternoon sun. It made it easier to think without his surroundings rocking around him.

The real problem was he had no idea where to start. Blackbeard had been the only love he’d ever known, and it was becoming clear that he couldn’t call what they had love.

He stopped.

Stede fucking Bonnet.

Stede and Ed had fallen in love. But how? How had he done it? Izzy squinted up at the sky as he tried to recall. He’d been so distracted by his hatred for the man at the time that he couldn’t remember much now.

Stede was insufferable, arrogant, and ignorant. Something about him fascinated Ed, intrigued him. And then they were suddenly inseparable.

“All right, boss?” a voice grumbled from behind him.

Izzy turned his head to see Wharf Rat standing there, and his first reaction was irritation, but it fell rather quickly into—curiosity.

“What is your name, again?” Izzy asked as he turned to face the man.

His face was momentarily surprised, then offended, and then quickly schooled to neutrality. “Jimothy… sir.”

Izzy tightened his grip on his own arms as he tried to say as neutrally as possible, “What do you think of me, Jimothy?”

“What?”

Izzy frowned. “Be honest.”

Jimothy stared at him, his eyes darting over Izzy’s face in search of the deception or the trick. Izzy gave him nothing to find.

“You’re…” Jimothy paused, then shrugged. “Kind of an arse.”

“But what do you think of me.” Izzy’s lips twitched into a frown.

“I think you’re an arse?” Jimothy frowned back at him. “What do you want me to say?”

Izzy didn’t know. He stared at the man for a bit, trying to determine if there could be anything there, trying to determine if he even wanted there to be.

His eyes widened as he remembered, too vividly, the time Lucius had gotten in his face, had stirred something primal that he’d told himself was anger but knew was lust.

“Have…” Izzy swallowed, his throat dry. “Have you ever been… sketched?”

“Huh?” Jimothy’s stance shifted, his shoulders relaxing and confusion taking hold of his expression. “You can draw?”

Izzy felt himself close up, a clam snapping its shell shut tight, and turned his head to spit off to the side. “Forget it. Fock off back to work, wharf rat.”

Jimothy’s eyes rolled as he brushed past him, letting their shoulders collide with unnecessary force, muttering under his breath, “Fucking arsehole.”

Right. That was a waste of time. Izzy sighed and put a hand to his forehead where an ache was growing.

He had no fucking clue what he was doing.

“All good, Iz?” Jack said in his usual easygoing way as he stepped onto the deck, shirtless and already taking a swig from a bottle of something dark.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Izzy snapped, then sighed and dropped his hand down to his side. “I’m just losing my fooking mind.”

Jack frowned and swayed as he made his way over to him. “’Bout what?”

Izzy sighed through clenched teeth. “I… tried to make a pass at one of the crew.”

Jack barked out a laugh, then pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to smother it. “Ya what?” He lowered his hand, grinning. “Tryin’ t’tell me I’m not enough for ya?”

“You aren’t,” Izzy replied with an unexpectedly bitter edge to his voice.

Jack blinked, then snorted and ran a thumb over his chin. “Fuck, man, bit early to be bustin’ my balls, ain’t it?”

“I’m just—” Izzy turned his head to look out at the horizon. “I’ve decided… that…” He sighed. “Don’t make me say it.”

The bottle fell out of Jack’s hand as he punched Izzy’s shoulder, laughing. “Holy shit, Iz, did I do that good of a job makin’ love to ya?”

Izzy felt his face grow unbearably hot and be took a step back to put himself out of reach. “I always focking wanted… That’s why….” He growled and turned away, taking a step forward to storm off. “Fuck you.”

“No, wait, baby, come on, hold on.” Jack grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him back. “Seriously, are ya lookin’ to settle down? Get domestic?”

Izzy clenched his eyes shut, tried to ignore the heat of the sun and of his embarrassment and of the sudden rush of Jack’s rough skin touching the soft underside of his wrist.

“I don’t know,” he said a bit like a whine. “I don’t have a focking clue what’s happening to me.”

There was a pause, long enough for Izzy to open his eyes and glance over at him, and the vulnerability on Jack’s face caught him entirely by surprise.

“Yeah.” Jack sighed and let go of him, his hand falling limp against his thigh. “That’s why I keep my heart out of shit. It’s fuckin’ complicated, and it hurts, and I’m not going through that more than once.”

“More than once?” Izzy felt himself lean in closer conspiratorially. “Have you—”

Jack shook his head and brought the bottle to his lips, mumbling against the glass after he took a sip, “Got a little too involved once. Would rather not talk ‘bout it, yeah?”

Izzy’s eyes widened. “How did you find someone?”

Jack sighed and rocked back on his heels. “Pure accident. Just ran into ‘im by chance.”

And that, Izzy realized, was what he already knew, what he was pretending he didn’t.

“By accident,” he repeated in a quiet voice, walking toward the railing and leaning against it, his shoulders slumped. “Fuck.”

      ( next )

📚 view a list of all my current stories!

#our flag means death #ofmd #jackhands #calicohands #calico jack #izzy hands #izzy x jack #drown my will to fly - jackhands ficlets

[cheeseloverlactoseintolerant]

Levi and little Udo

#snk #levi ackerman #my doodles #little udo #dad levi #I have no idea of what Im doing #anatomy? don't know her #its my first time drawing a shirtless man #did i use a reference? absolutely no #if he has two additional sets of abs then thats his problem not mine #im drawing hange and udo next #its 5am #i should be asleep right now #but no #im drawing fluff

[little-fics]

Bee

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stucky x Reader; platonic!uncle!Tony

Summary: Reader is teetering the edge of a slip when her buddies Sam and Clint are mean to her, daddy stucky to the rescue

Warnings: age regression, scary bees, bottle, pacifier, anxiety, a little violence, angry!Steve (not at you), mean!sam and mean!clint, I may have missed some, read at your own risk

Word count: 2.2K

A/N: I had fun with this one! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer for my blog!

Life with Bucky and Steve was great, you'd officially been together for about a year, and they'd been your daddies about half that time. You didn't always regress, just when the world got a little too big and you needed to leave it all behind. The avengers didn't know about your coping mechanism, at your own request, save for Tony who has programmed Friday to detect when you're little and were about to do something that babies shouldn't do, such as cooking or showering because babies makes messes and get hurt. It was something you'd kept private and to yourself for a long time, and it took months to feel comfortable enough to talk with Steve and Bucky about it. You weren't always feeling little, and had the capability of being a very vital part to the team, but on your days off, it was easy to find yourself slipping into that headspace.

That's how you got to sitting on the balcony, slowly slipping into that headspace after a difficult mission. You'd woken up between Steve and Bucky, crawling out of the bed quietly, not quite feeling small but you know it's coming. Clint and Sam find you outside, sunbathing and staring at the clouds. Sam is the first one to come outside, Clint following close behind.

"Mornin' sunshine," Sam sits next to you, Clint moving to the other side of you, relaxing in his seat, Sam holding out a glass to you, "want some lemonade? I know that coffee makes you jittery on your days off." You take the glass, smiling at the yellow straw poking up from the top, "Thank you! And a straw!" You twiddle with it gently, pulling it out to take a sip. "Gosh," your shoulders sag and your head leans back in ecstasy, "Clint's lemonade is the best, thank you." Clint pointedly looks at Sam, smug, "Why thank you Y/n, I'm blushing." Sam scoffs, "You wouldn't have even made it if I didn't beg!" Clint shrugs, "I made food," he looks to you, "speaking of," he has you a plate with a sausage and egg biscuit. You tentatively take it from him, "Oh thank you, are you sure?" Clint laughs, leaning back in his seat, "Yeah, honey, me and Sam already had some."

Once you finish your biscuit, you're back to staring at the pretty sky, sipping on your lemonade listening to Sam and Clint bicker back and forth. A bee comes out of nowhere, eliciting a small yelp from you and you're quickly standing from your seat. They're laughing, which hurt your feelings, the fear of the bee causing you to slip fully. You try to go inside but hear Sam speak to the AI, "Friday, lock patio doors under code Falcon," before you make it to the door. When you pull on it the door won't budge. "Sam," your voice is meek, "that's not funny," you whine and shake the door again, getting nervous over the buzzing around your lemonade on the table. "Friday, open the door." Clint laughs again, "It's just a bee, you've been shot before and you can't handle a bee?" A tear slips down your face, and you feel your heartbeat pick up.

You shake on the door, trying to get away from your mean friends, wiping a tear away, "Open the door Sam." He's laughing, he thinks this is funny, "It's just a bee, it'll be gone in a minute Y/n, it's fine." You shake the door more violently, and it's clear Sam wasn't going to open the door. You bring your hand to the bracelet that lays around your wrist, a fail safe if something is wrong, to immediately notify Steve and Bucky that you need them. You find the tiny sun charm, pressing the tiny button that notifies your daddies of your state of mind and that you're in trouble, different from the other charm, a moon, who notifies your boyfriends of an emergency.

Bucky is the first one to hear Friday, "Mr. Barnes, Mr. Rogers," he groans groggily, "Friday, it's too early for this, what is it?" Bucky reaches over to find just Steve, no tiny baby to love on as he hears Friday once more, "I am sorry Mr. Barnes, but it seems munchkin has requested your presence with signs of distress." Bucky's eyes snap open at the use of the programmed name for when you're in your little space, throwing the covers off and slapping Steve's shoulder. "Bucky, what the-" Steve stops when he realizes that Bucky is already out the door, he's quickly behind him, not bothering to put a shirt on, as Bucky hadn't.

"Friday, where is munchkin?" Bucky spits, FRIDAY speaking up once more, "Munchkin is on the patio with Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton." Their brows crunch together in confusion, Steve finally speaking up on their way to the patio, sleep still heavy in his voice, "Is something wrong?" Bucky shrugs nervously, "Friday said she was showing signs of distress." The system speaks up once more, "That is correct. Munchkin's heart rate seems to be elevated and she is showing signs of high stress. She notified me by her emergency contact Sun Ray." At this, Bucky and Steve speed up, trying to get to you as quickly as possible.

The bee is still there, attracted not only to the lemonade, but the brightly colored pajamas keeping its attention as it flies back and forth between you and the lemonade. When it flies towards you, you hide in the corner of the patio, screaming, running to the other corner to hide from it when it follows you, a tear streaking down your face. Sam sees the stray tear, immediately his stomach sinking while you're piddling with your bracelet, ignoring the tears on your face, not hearing Sam when he stands and calls out gently, "Friday unlock the doors." Sam's in front of you, "Let's go inside, come on." When he reaches for you, you flinch back from him, causing his heart to break a little. You're now frantically pushing the button on your charm.

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, munchkin has sent a distress call 13 times, up to 17, 23," and then they're at the doors to the patio, slinging them open.

Bucky takes in your appearance, you look afraid, tears freely streaming down your face, now surrounded by Clint and Sam, who are violently moved by Bucky. He's lifting you by your thighs, bringing them around his waist, glaring at Sam and Clint before carrying you inside. When you're back inside, feeling the rush of AC, you let loose, heavy thick tears falling with sobs. "Shhh my little bunny, I've got you."

Steve remains on the porch, staring at a shell shocked Sam and Clint, "What happened?" They shrug, "It was just a bee, we didn't know it would scare her so bad." Steve rolls his eyes at the men, following Bucky back to your room. When he gets there, you're straddling Bucky on the bed, hands tucked under you, fists balled up tightly, hiccuping sobs. "'S mean," Bucky is rubbing your back, shushing softly while you try to explain what happened, "wouldn't let me 'nside daddy, I try." More sobs erupt from you, Steve's brow furrowing, wondering what you meant.

"Friday, show me what happened with munchkin on the patio before Sun Ray was activated." He watches as the TV screen starts playing the scene, fury creeping up in his bones, while Bucky continued to console you, but matching the fire Steve has in his eyes. Steve saunters out of the room when the TV shuts off, heading straight for Sam and Clint. Bucky holds you closer when you whimper, "Oh doll, dada will be right back, he's just gonna go get you something to drink." You continue to sob, you refused to take your pacifier, dropping it out of your mouth every time he tried to put it in, sobs not allowing it to stay. "Baby baby baby, you're okay, that little bee isn't gonna getcha in here, only daddy." He tries to tickle you, but you just sob louder. He's thankful for the soundproof walls, knowing you don't like to draw attention.

Steve finds Sam and Clint in the common room with Nat and Tony. Tony stands when he sees Steve, anger on his face still shirtless. Steve comes up from behind Sam and Clint, grabbing their shirts roughly, pulling them up and off the couch, feet dangling a foot above the floor, turning them to face him. They're shouting, trying to get Steve to let go. Tony is trying to pull Sam away from him, Nat trying to hit his weak spots so he will drop Clint but he doesn't budge.

"Did you think it was funny?" Steve spits, bringing his face closer to theirs, "Did you? You think it was funny when she cried? Think it was funny when she screamed and pulled on the door? How would you feel huh? If someone laughed at you because you were scared? If your friends laughed at you?" Tony and Nat are confused, "Steve calm down, what happened?" Steve scowls, overpowering the men easily as he turns them around, still holding them in the air. "Friday, pull up the patio clip and my bedroom feed on the common room television."

"Voice identification confirmed. One moment." The video starts playing, but all they can hear are your sobs, not able to hear the small consoling your daddy is trying or the talk from the patio clip as it plays. "Is it still funny bird boy? Is it still funny when you know you're the reason she's like this? No? Good." Steve throws them down on the couch, Tony is furious, Nat is scolding them, and Steve's on his way into the kitchen.

Tony follows Steve after shutting off the video feed, Nat still scolding the two perpetrators. Steve is piddling around, heating up some milk in the microwave. "You okay man?" Tony asks, placing a hand on his back, when Steve glares at him Tony sighs. "Man you can't go back to her seething like this." Steve lets out a huff, "I've never wanted to throttle someone like I do right now." He grabs the milk from the microwave, mixing some hot chocolate power in it, something that frequently happens when you're having a very bad day. Tony hands Steve a bottle, hidden in a thin cabinet, only unlocked by four people in the tower; Uncle Tony, your daddies, and you. "She's your baby, and she hasn't stopped crying because her buddies were mean to her and she doesn't understand, if you go in there angry, she will think you're mad at her." Tony chides, Steve, resonating with Tony's words, takes a deep breath, filling up your bottle and continuing to shake it. "Want me to come cheer her up with you?" Steve sighs, "Let us calm her down a bit, get her feeling right and we'll play some games later yeah?" Tony starts to rummage through the fridge, "Have Friday notify me." Steve nods, leaving Tony and going back to his baby.

When he opens the door, you're still crying, but when Steve sits he pulls you into his lap, holding you like a baby and rocking you. "Shhh, it's okay baby, I know they were mean, but papa's here now. It's okay," he's rubbing your face gently, your sobs turned to weak whimpers. "That's it baby, you want some milk?" You nuzzle into his chest, Bucky taking a sip of the bottle making sure it's not too hot and gives it back to Steve. He holds the tip to your lips, you instantly wrap your lips around it and hum happily.

"There she is, sweet girl," his fingers tangle in your hair, massaging your scalp gently while Bucky rubs your legs with a feather light touch. You hiccup on the milk, Steve moving it away from you and wiping away a stray tear. Your fingers clutch around his shoulder, whining, "Papa." He coos at you, "Drinking too fast aren't we love?" You let out another whine, your bottom lip wobbling, "Pease papa." He traces your jawline before bringing the bottle back to your lips, "Slower, you hear me dove?" You nod gently, closing your eyes and continuing to drink the bottle.

You're teetering on the edge of sleep, Steve wiping away a drop of milk that finds its way to the corner of your mouth. He takes the bottle very carefully, stopping when you suck on it a little harder, trying to hold it in your mouth. "Bunny," Bucky's voice sings to you, "let daddy have that, okay?" Steve tries to pull it away again, this time with no fight, Bucky pressing your pacifier to your lips, which you take happily. He clips it to the top of your pajama shirt so if you drop it, it'll stay relatively within reach. "Friday, put on munchkins lullaby playlist."

Soft music starts playing through the room, bringing you all the way under, soft snores against Steves chest alerting them to your slumber. "Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barton are outside, requesting entrance." Bucky rolls his eyes as he slides back down into the bed, "Friday, decline entrance and leave us be to nap for an hour." Steve moves you to Bucky, your sleeping form habitually wrapping around him and his warmth. Steve huddles behind you, wrapping his arm over you and resting it on Bucky, rubbing small circles. "She's gonna be a handful today," Steve comments, letting Bucky know that he thinks today is going to be one of those days where you regress further than usual. "She's gonna have such a good time with Tony." Bucky laughs, his eyes flutter shut, "Don't count her daddies short."

#agere fanfiction #agere fic #little!reader #steve rogers x reader #Steve x reader #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve #Daddy!Steve rogers #daddy!bucky x reader #daddy!Steve x reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky barnes #daddy!Bucky Barnes x reader #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x reader #daddy!stucky x little!reader #Tony x reader #marvel agere #marvel fanfiction #Bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Steve Rogers fluff #angry!Steve #protective!steve #agere fanfic #platonic!Tony x reader #dom!bucky #dom!steve #dom!stucky

[moxfirefly]

Ssssooooo I'm gonna keep the "only one bed" trope train and ask for it with maybe Heisenberg? I know you're obsessed with him dont even deny it uwu

*vibrates excitedly* oh BOY!!!!! Thank you Dia, you always gimme the prompts my little heart wants. Shout out to @akumaalert I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to include Karl’s powers being on the fritz due to, sensations, and that wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for your brilliance!

I’m going off the friggin rails here so,

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

There was a voice in the back of your head that sounded too much like your mother.

It kept yelling at you that this was unsavory, that this wasn’t modest of you and your teachings. Who were you to lie with a man? A man you weren’t bound to, a Lord on top of it. All those sinful talks in the big black book circled your mind like vultures.

But he had offered, no?

It was pouring out after all, a big bad storm complete with thunder and gusts of wind that would’ve blown you away probably.

The nature of this friendship? Complicated, very very complicated. You had racked your brain over it as you had buttoned up one of his shirts and climbed into his bed just as another clap of thunder sounded. It made you scurry, somewhat not as elegantly as you may have liked but nevertheless it didn’t stop him from laughing at you.

For such a large factory it only housed one bedroom which just so happened to be his own. He had every intention of sleeping somewhere else, some way, but you had insisted that it wasn’t fair. The storm wasn’t his fault or your own, the living accommodations weren’t either.

So here you were.

In bed with Karl Heisenberg.

Falling a sleep had proven quite difficult, the insistent slide of pencil on paper, the storm and its monstrous sounds. There was a distant revving of something you couldn’t quite name.

You turned to face Heisenberg with every intention of passing the time.

Or at least to help yourself to ogling him.

Your mother voice rang again.

Unsavory, so unsavory.

But he was there, shirtless, sturdy, muscle in his arms and missing those damned shades for once. Whatever he was scribbling had his undivided attention, as you snuck a glance you saw drawings instead of words.

He could draw?

Rather good too.

“What is that?” You tried to lift your gaze but a large hand fell on the page to obscure your snooping. “Nothing, just ideas” He flipped the page, the white of it begging for ink.

“My apologies… I didn’t know you could draw though” He could still see curiosity adorned in your gaze, a noticeable silence falling as your stared up at him. You wanted something, that’s all he could tell.

“…What do you want me to draw?” He huffed out, even if you excitedly sat up in bed and rested against the headboard with a big smile. “Hmm, surprise me or maybe draw me?” You chuckled but went quiet when you watched him scoot down to the end of the bed onto his side. He flipped open the note book again and squinted at you.

“How opposed are you to taking your clothes off?” He smirked and in turn you rolled your eyes.

“Depends, let’s see how well you draw me first” You shot back with every intent of dishing out what he was. Heisenberg chuckled before picking up the pen to start on the newest blank page. “You better keep your mouth shut about this, don’t want villagers lining up to get my works of art” His movements seemed almost mechanical, eyes occasionally lifting to meet you as he did. “There’s enough pictures of your mother in everyone’s homes, hm?” You watched his eyes roll again but he remained silent, he stole another glance at you, eyes roaming your chest now.

Something about that made your skin warm, a nice blush found itself onto your cheeks.

“You draw everyone woman you get into bed?” You asked rather quietly, the small pin prick of jealousy manifesting in your fingertips.

“No, much to your surprise I don’t have all the women of this village in here for sleepovers” His gaze fell to your now exposed legs and the urge to cover them increased but he was quick to tap the end of his pen on your approaching hands. “Stop moving,” He returned to the notebook with a concentrated chew on the inside of his cheeks. The strands of silvery hair fell in front of his eyes and you wished that maybe you too possessed the ability to draw and capture him.

He was handsome.

Those pesky sinful thoughts found you again and with that came the urge to do something about it.

“You better fucking like it, this is reserved for projects after all” He let the pen rest on the bed and flipped the note book towards you.

Your eyes went wide.

It was a sketch, not polished but there in the scribbly lines of black was your face and your body. The messy details perfectly representing you. Your drawn eyes stood out to you, the slight fall of his shirt on your shoulder stood out to you, the way he took more time to detail your legs stood out to you.

“Is that stunned silence? It’s shit isn’t it?” He glared at the page, eyeing up all its faults but you were quick to move and shake your head. “It’s not shit! I’m just- Karl this is beautiful, you’re talented” You observed the image again, a small crinkle at the corners of your mouth.

“I’d ask to keep it but-“ He took the notebook back, not relenting even as you pouted. “Nope, I like this, all I usually have on here is ugly inventions” And corpses, he obviously left that out. He continued to admire the drawing before he grinned, letting hazel eyes fall on you from above the notebook. “Well?” He simply asked and you knew.

“Might come back here for the nude study if you’re going to make me look this nice” You shamelessly flirted back. Heisenberg laughed, a true sound with not ill intentions. “Well I’m sure arrangements can be made” He closed the note book but his eyes soon found your own, close enough that he could smell the oils that had touched your skin this evening. With a bite to your lower lip and a steadying beat of your heart you leaned in close to him. Heisenberg’s lips pursed momentarily, the anticipation of your lips coming down on his own making something electric pulse inside of him.

But you stopped, an inch away from his lips.

His brows furrowed at being denied and that fact that you found that so endearing made you muffle a laugh between your tight lip smile.

Of course, he had to make you shudder, rub his knuckles across your cheek and dig his fingers into he back of your head. “What, pup?” His voice was barely a whisper, the sounds vibrating against your bottom lip and chin. The gentle nudge to close the distance left you breathless.

His lips were surprisingly soft, the scar noticeable against your lips but the bumpy tissue only served to make you melt against him. It was short, several gentle touches that made you shiver as you felt his nails scratch into your scalp.

Pressing your forehead to his own you sighed, want was there and he could feel it, taste it against your lips, feel it in the shiver on your flesh. A small zap hit your skin and the small yelp that escaped you only served to make him chuckle. “Did you just- was that electricity?” Your skin felt prickly suddenly, he only grinned more like a mad dog. Heisenberg wrapped an arm around your waist and yanked you beneath him, the series of shrieks you let out only making him laugh more. “You can be such a beast” They way your hands landed on his bare chest to smack him was short lived.

Some retaliation was to be had. So you scratched your nails down his body before landing on his waist. The tremble of his arms as he held himself above you made you smile. With a gentle nudge of your knee you trapped him in between your legs, pulling him down onto you by his waist. He huffed, hair falling and obscuring his heated gaze. It was instinct, to wrap your arms around him and feel his so warm and soft and strong against you. The scratchiness of his beard was felt at your neck, along with that his teeth meeting warm skin.

He sucked a bruise onto your neck with a roll of his hips.

“Do you want me?” He grumbled against your pulse, tongue soothing the bruise.

You nodded, digging your nails into his waist before dragging them up his back.

“No, no, pup” He nosed your ear, teeth finding your lobe with a gentle tug. “I need to hear it, use your words” It was almost a purr, enough to goosebump your skin and lift your hips.

“Want you, want you so much, please…” You exposed your neck more for him, felt his lips find your throat. “Good pup” His hands found the neck of the shirt and with one fluid motion you heard and felt all the buttons pop off. He pulled it apart to reveal your chest, he hummed at the sight before him. “Now I should draw this some day” His grin made your cheeks flush again, even more so when he pressed his face against your chest, a rub of his cheek scratching your soft skin.

Lips pressed, tongue drawing patterns as you muffled a whine and grabbed his hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Ka-oh god!” A particular hard bite at your ribs made you grip silver locks with more intention. He groaned at the rough handling of his hair, the strain on his neck as you tugged hard enough that he could see your pupils blown wide for him.

When Heisenberg leaned back, allowed space between both your heated skins, you ached.

Visibly ached.

You followed those talented scarred hands to the front of his trousers, watched as he unbuttoned them slowly. But you couldn’t stay away too long, fingers itched to feel him, to touch every part of him and find out what made him tick. You unrolled what was left of your his shirt and tossed it somewhere off the bed. When he saw your hands go between your legs he palmed himself at the sight of it.

“You want your hand, mhm? Or would you much rather prefer my cock?” He emphasized with a tight squeeze of his hardened length and wordless you replied by removing your hand and reaching for him once more. Ever the asshole, he gripped your hand away and raised his brows, he wanted those verbal answers.

Bastard.

“Your cock, please” Intertwining your fingers with his own you gently brought him back down to you for a long and sensual kiss. Against those lips you whispered, “Inside, want you inside now” just as another clap of thunder hit.

There were more clothes gone, scattered across the room unwanted and unneeded. Heisenberg had every intention of feeling you come apart around him when he entered you slowly. Each hiccuped whine shooting your arms more tightly around him, pressing him down closer to you. The heat he was already exuding was making you break out in a sweat, you felt his hands slide beneath you with a groan the further his slid into you.

He was buried to the hilt, tight heat so perfect he growl against the bruised flesh of your neck. “Fucking good little pup, taking me so good” His filthy words fell against your ear, short but pronounced thrusts making you dig your nails onto his back. “Yesss, don’t be afraid, don’t break so easily baby” Heisenberg leaned his head as far as he could to catch your gaze in all its lust blown glory. He kissed you again, more ferocity, more purpose, all tongues and teeth and demanding bites. The heels of your feet rested at his back side encouraging him deep into you with every thrust he delivered.

Being at the end of the bed doing this felt weirdly interesting, each thrust he gave you made the bed creak, lean away from the wall just a bit, it’s increasing squeak joining the chorus of the storm.

When you dragged your nails down his back, right towards his rear and gripped and moaned loud enough to have him shake, you saw something lift from the corner of your eye. You eyes squinted at the spoon suddenly mid air, you weren’t unaware of his gifts but why was he-

You train of thought was lost to you when he angled his thrusts just the right way to hit your sweetest of spots, every possible question was being tried and language had fallen at the bottom of your list of abilities. You arched into him, neck on display for his teeth to once again find, that tight hold on his rear remained and he seemed to really enjoy it by the sounds and sensations of his heated grunts. “Puppyyy, such a good pup, could stay buried in this hole all week” Oh you would let him, you wanted him in fact, why go back to the village, you’d rather put your days on this bed.

No matter how many dangerous items kept floating about, no matter how his skin felt almost electric as he thrusted into you more feverishly, this is what you wanted.

You wanted him.

“Then do it, oh god just do it please!” He hooked his arms beneath your knees and locked you beneath him either every intention of making your moans louder than the rain. Heisenberg unceremoniously pounded you, every hit making your toes curl and your voice choke up. “Gonna fuck a mess into you, you want it? Mhm?” Dangerous dangerous dangerous!

But you did.

Whimpered a series of broken yes yes yes, at his ear. The bruising hold proved necessarily, you felt your legs shake and stiffen all at once, heard several things sort of just go pop! It dawned on you that it had been the lights but that couldn’t have been the storm-

Your orgasm snuck up on you, quite literally hit you smack in the gut with Heisenberg at his tail end as well, it must’ve been seconds apart from one another. He moaned right against your ear, hips drilling into you with every intention of making you lose your god damn mind. Several objects clattered around you, startling you and in the process making you hold onto him.

His amused chuckle came out in breathless pants, the now darkened room only having a lone candle as the source of light. He gave your hip a gentle tap, “It’s okay, just shit that happens” He sounded somewhat sheepish as you both still panted. You reached up and cupped his sweaty cheek, fingers mapping a crias crossed scar. Here in the dimly lit room he still managed to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You wanted him again.

Wanted all the madness that came with him.

You pulled him down again to show him just that as you kissed him.

#ask #dianounais #re8 village #re8 #resident evil 8 #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #re8 heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #karl Heisenberg #Heisenberg #lord heisenberg x reader #lord heisenberg #fanfic tropes #ns*w

[thatfunkyopossum]

[ID: A drawing of Captain Rex from Star Wars: The Clone Wars. He is seated, shirtless, and looking up and over to his left. There is a white rimlight catching him. End ID] Every time I draw Rex I end up a bit disappointed :( I never feel like I capture how very good he is.

Regardless! Please enjoy. People have been recirculating my edits of the clones again and smth about seeing how much people loved them really made me want to draw them again. Also, Me, Drawing a muscular man leaning forward onto his legs and looking up over his shoulder? Its more likely than you think.

This drawing was first posted last night on my patreon :)

#my art #captain rex #star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #commander rex

[clusterbuck]

hii from the prompt list the 13 becouse i like drama

listen, i see you talking about drama, but due to supply chain issues it is currently a one-way street to fluff city in my brain, now with some thirst on the side

"how could you do this to me?" buck groans, straddling the chair beside chimney and dropping his forehead to the backrest with a resounding thunk. "i thought we were friends, man."

it's a scorching california summer day. the metal of the chair is so hot against his forehead he's almost worried about accidentally branding himself, and the bare skin of his back feels like it might be able to fry an egg by now.

"i know, i know," chimney says. "the objectification of men still contributes to a culture where—"

"what?" buck interrupts, lifting his head to squint at chimney. "no, i don't care about that part, it's for charity, it's whatever."

"then what did i do to you?" chimney asks.

"that," buck mutters, and gestures to the other side of the firehouse parking lot, where a shirtless eddie is bending over to dunk his sponge in a bucket of soapy water. buck makes a strangled noise and returns his head to the backrest of the chair, where his field of vision is safe.

"eddie?" chimney asks, the picture of innocence. "what about him?"

"you know exactly what about him," buck grumbles. "i know you heard me talking to maddie the other day."

well, talking is a word for it. other fitting words might be whining, drunkenly complaining, or maddie's favourite, pining.

"i heard you talking to maddie about a lot of things," chimney says, and even with his face glued to the chair buck can imagine the exact shit-eating grin on his face.

"chimney, i swear to god."

"wait, so you think hen and i put together this entire car wash—this car wash for charity—because we thought it would be funny to watch you fall all over yourself in front of a shirtless eddie?"

"well, i've met you," buck says, "so yeah, that's exactly what i think."

"no comment," chimney says. "it's already funny, though." and maybe the barely contained glee in his voice should have warned buck, but—

"what's already funny?" a familiar voice asks, and buck jerks upright so quickly the entire chair almost falls over.

eddie was already a lot to take in from across the parking lot, and now he's standing barely two feet away. he's wearing turnout pants and suspenders and nothing else, and his skin glistens in the sunlight, some combination of sweat and the water he'd been using to wash the cars.

buck swallows, in a way that is definitely more audible than originally intended.

"uh—" buck starts, and then stops, because he isn't entirely sure he is currently capable of forming words that aren't directly related to the several parts of eddie's body that are just close enough for him to touch.

like the drop of sweat that's tracing a slow, meandering path down the column of eddie's throat. buck wants to lick it away, and then keep licking until he reaches eddie's collarbone, his chest—

"how predictable people are," chimney supplies, and buck drags his attention away from eddie's throat. he holds his breath, terrified that chimney is about to throw him under the bus, but chimney just gestures at the crowds gathered around certain firefighters. then he smirks at eddie. "you had quite the audience for a while there, eddie."

"i was just washing the cars." eddie looks down and scratches at the back of his head, the way he does when he's embarrassed, and buck tries not to stare at the way his bicep flexes.

"i bet some of them would watch you read the phone book," chimney says, and buck does not miss the extremely unsubtle look chimney shoots at him. he just hopes eddie was still looking down.

"who has phone books anymore?" eddie asks.

and buck... is thinking about eddie reading a phone book. damn it, chimney.

it's just—eddie has really good hands. buck has spent a significant amount of time staring at eddie's hands. and thinking about them. and, on a couple of memorable occasions, dreaming about them.

there are few things in life buck wants more than he wants to get eddie's hands on him.

so the thought of eddie's hands wrapped around a phone book, one hand spanning the spine as he carefully turns the pages... it's not not doing it for him.

"buck," eddie says, and from his tone buck figures it probably isn't the first time eddie's tried to get his attention. he shakes his head, trying to banish the image of eddie's hands.

"what's up?" he asks, trying to sound cool and casual and like he didn't just zone out thinking about his best friend's hands.

"i was just gonna ask if you could help me out," eddie says, holding up a bottle of sunscreen. "i can't reach my back. i can do you after, if you want."

buck doesn't splutter, but it's a very close thing.

"uh—" he croaks, then clears his throat and tries again. "yeah, okay." there. that was—mostly normal, probably.

"i'm gonna, uh, go be somewhere else," chimney says somewhere behind him, and buck fights the urge to turn and glare. instead, he puts his middle finger up behind his back and hopes chimney gets the message.

buck stands up, and eddie hands him the sunscreen and turns his back. his suspenders are still up, and buck swallows as he slips his fingers under them. "i'm just gonna—" he says, just above a whisper, and waits for eddie's murmured yeah before he slowly drags them over eddie's shoulders and lets them drop.

the skin of eddie's back is warm under his hands, and his muscles ripple as buck works the sunscreen in. part of buck wants to draw it out for as long as possible, but he knows that the longer he spends on this, the more likely it is that his hands start wandering without any real input from his brain. and he doesn't really know how he'd explain that one away.

"all set," he says as soon as he's done, forcing himself to withdraw his hands from eddie's admittedly glorious shoulders. he hands the bottle back, and eddie gestures for him to turn around.

"your turn," he says, and then raises an eyebrow when buck doesn't move. "come on, buck, uv rays are no joke."

buck turns around.

eddie sets his hands on buck's shoulders, and buck jumps.

"you okay?" eddie asks.

"yeah, just—surprised," buck manages to say. "i'm good."

good is a relative term. he's fine, in the sense that eddie is asking about. but he also feels like he's about to combust, as eddie's hands—those hands he has spent so long dreaming about—rub slow circles into his shoulders, and start working their way down his back.

buck pours all of his focus into standing still. into not arching into eddie's touch, no matter how much his every nerve ending is begging for it. eddie's hands are steady and strong on his back, and he's standing close enough that buck can feel the heat radiating from his body, and it's—a lot.

then eddie moves his hands to buck's waist, rubbing the sunscreen into his sides and along his hips, and his breath catches. eddie's hands inch lower, and every part of buck's anatomy is acutely aware of exactly where they will end up if they keep moving.

eddie leans closer, hot breath fanning across the back of buck's neck and leaving goosebumps in its wake. "you okay?" he asks again, barely a whisper this time.

buck swallows around the dryness in his mouth and manages a shaky nod. he's just about to try to gather the words to ask what exactly eddie thinks he's doing when someone shouts eddie's name from across the parking lot, and the moment is shattered.

"i guess that's my break over," eddie says, and takes a step backwards. buck whirls around just as eddie says "too bad." just in time to see eddie smirk.

smirk.

that's approximately when buck decides that he must have woken up in an alternate dimension somehow, because since when does eddie smirk at him? since when does eddie put his hands all over him like that?

whatever alternate universe this is, it's seriously messing with his self-control. it's probably a good thing chimney has them scheduled at different washing stations, because buck really doesn't think he'd be getting a lot done if he was standing in close proximity to eddie with a bucket of soapy water.

not that he's getting much done anyway. chimney has him on the hose, washing the soap off once others are done, and more than once buck's attention wanders to the memory of eddie's hands on him or to the sight of eddie across the parking lot in his goddamned suspenders. he's mostly brought back to reality by chimney yelling because he's accidentally let the hose drift far enough to soak him.

serves him right, anyway. this is all his fault.

there's an hour left of the car wash when buck steps away to take his last break, and turns around to find eddie right next to him. because of course he is.

it's been hours, and buck still hasn't been able to figure out what eddie was trying to do with the sunscreen. all he knows is he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it, and that every time he's looked over at eddie, eddie's been looking right back at him. it's solidified into an awareness humming under his skin, one he's pretty sure is going to spark and catch fire the moment eddie so much as touches him again.

"hey," eddie says and looks buck up and down, his gaze so heavy buck can feel it like a physical weight.

"hey," buck says, and finds he doesn't know what to do next. he wants—needs, desperately—to know what eddie's been doing all day, but he can't think of a way to bring it up that isn't going to backfire in a big way if it turns out that somehow this has all been unintentional.

and then the meagre scraps of restraint he's managed to scrape together go up in smoke, because eddie grabs a water bottle and pours the contents over his head.

buck isn't sure if time slows down or maybe gravity eases up for a moment, but it feels like he's watching the water cascade over eddie's head and shoulders in slow motion, like in a high school football movie.

rivulets of it chase paths down eddie's temples and along his cheekbones, and water pools in the hollows above his collarbones before spilling over to race down the hard planes of his chest.

"jesus christ," buck mutters. "are you kidding me right now?"

"what?" eddie asks, and it's only because buck knows him so well that he realises eddie is trying not to grin. "what's your problem?"

"you know exactly what my problem is," buck says, and grabs eddie's wrist so he can yank him around the nearest corner. "you did all of it on purpose, didn't you?"

eddie lets his grin spill out, but buck only sees it for a second before he's grabbing at eddie's suspenders and using them to pull eddie close enough to kiss.

it's frenetic and messy and a little rushed, an outpouring of all the tension that's built up over the hours (weeks, months, years) they've been dancing around each other. buck can't decide whether to keep holding on to eddie's suspenders or to put his hands on eddie—somewhere, anywhere—and ends up with one hand clutching a suspender and the other fisted in eddie's hair. his chest is flush against eddie's and they're both soaked, slick with sweat and the water eddie had poured over himself.

it's the best kiss buck's ever had.

he starts reaching for eddie's fly almost on instinct, not thinking about anything except how he wants to get closer, wants to touch more. eddie stops him with a gentle hand on his wrist, but when he pulls back his breathing is heavy and his pupils are blown wide. "we're still in public," he murmurs. "but christopher is at abuela's tonight, so if you come home with me you might get lucky."

eddie bites his swollen bottom lip, and buck nods frantically and replaces eddie's teeth with his own. he's just about to lose himself in eddie when he hears chimney's self-satisfied voice somewhere in the distance, calling out "you're welcome!"

buck doesn't detach himself from eddie, just sticks up a middle finger and hopes for the best. judging by chimney's laughter, he thinks he probably got the message.

send me a fic starter prompt from this list!

#911fic #buddie #ask emma #emma writes #it's like parent trapping except it's thirst trapping #wait that's already a thing #idk man #thirst! at the car wash #this was absolutely not worth staying up until 5am for but once again i have sunk cost fallacied myself into sleep deprivation