#BUFF women my beloved

[jazzkolart]

Personal foxians hc cause I think they deserve more than just ears and tails as fox features

[snail-sir]

Going back to my roots of genderbending/cis-swapping characters out of boredom lmao

[cowboy-noises]

Yeah I like BMWs

Big Muscular Women

[all-lee24]

I would love to see your take on Brienne!

“Winter will never come for the likes of us.”

[bri-the-nautilus]

current mood: wanting to have my face ground into nothingness on eleonora's abs like a fine wedge of cheddar on a stainless steel grater

[kinokochi]

york loves his buff girlfriend

(ref image etc under read more)

please tell me nobody has done this exact thing with these exact characters or i might cry

also the phone case is green bc delta <3

[ak800]

Asuka Langley Sōryū

Plus a close ups :)

Shading done with the wonderful ‚tutorial‘ of @hfjtp <3

[fruitisthenewvegitable]

Pictures of buff Victorian women flexing in their corsets has done more for the lesbian community than Ellen DeGeneres ever will

[ask-wretched]

@the-water-dweller I had to draw her immediately

[lesbiansforspock]

Okay so SNW is so confusing because I like it!! It’s camp it’s fun it’s a good time. However in the context of TOS it makes me hmmm a bit. Though in the end if it’s fun it’s fun and I like it I think.

[the-nameless-wacky-inventor]

I wish I could draw Dellumbra more often but Penny is just so hard to draw 😭

[mothekko]

Her woman.

Where Ambessa demands your attention after a long trip.

Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader Warnings: alcohol drinking, buff reader, reader is implied to be lesbian, slightly sub!ambessa, fluff, no-smut, kisses<3 mwah mwah. Word count: 968.

notes: ambessa my beloved (not just mine but of course my best friend's beloved too), i had this idea yesterday when she cried cause every reader is always the girly girl type, never a big woman with big everything (including her arms 😛), anyway, enjoy reading as I did writing :3 xoxo

MEN AND MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Ambessa was not a fragile lady, no. She was far from this. First, she was the type of mercilessly war dog everyone heard about. Her fingers were not as delicate as some women tried to imagine.

Oh, and you knew it. You knew her hands were stronger than any other woman you ever had an affair with. She was delicate, but rough. She was firm and strong, and for God’s sake, you could listen to all the girls and boys in the whole Noxus almost moaning for her, just by seeing her walk on the streets. She didn't pay too much attention, she had her business with you. She came back from war, her fatigue was noticeable in her letters, and you analyzed them perfectly, all of them.

As much as you knew about her weariness, she always asked you for a visit, and how could you deny the woman who gave you your position as high guard in Noxus? The more time passed, your attention was drawn to the dark streets of Noxus, scantily clad women didn't attract you, even though it was the complete opposite for you and they sometimes tried to attach themselves to your belt, along with the axe and sword that were in the hem of your pants and back. The icy wind touched your hair, two braids made by the war general framed your face. It wasn't usual for you to leave your hair loose, but after weeks, or months, without seeing each other, the braids were Ambessa's only request.

You looked across the horizon, all the tents closed and quiet, but that one... that central one, which you knew who was inside; the candles flickering in the air were warming someone. Ambessa was waiting for you. As you approached the place, your muscles tensed in suspicion as you entered the tent. You sighed and Ambessa looked back, a smile from her brightened up her face. A woman like her? Smiling? You're lucky.

“Night, ma’am…” You said, the smell of alcohol around the place was a little too much this time, but well, it’s Ambessa, after all. “Too much to handle this time? Or drinking for fun?”

She didn’t answer you, not like she usually does. She silently invited you to sit next to her, moving the wine bottle to the side on the floor. Cautiously you walked through the tent, until you reached her side, and before you could even sit down, she settled her head on your waist. Her mind was heavy with thoughts.

Ambessa without her usual clothes, smiling, and laying her head on you? Of course something was wrong. But this kind of wrong is not so bad, not at all. At least she was showing some affection. 

“Listen, darling… don’t ask any questions today… I just want you to be good for me.” She said, she doesn’t look drunk. Does she? “These months without you made me so bored, you know…”

You kindly touched her hair, asking yourself what you should do in that situation. 

“Ma’am, you’re not drunk, are you?” You laughed, looking a little closer. You touched her face, checking her eyes, and suddenly, she removed your hand and sighs deeply. 

“You know me too well, sugar. Maybe I should pretend harder next time…” You finally felt like everything was okay, she was lying and that’s all. “Are you gonna sleep here tonight?” she took a sip of wine “Or will I wake up with a boy calling me out for being too sleepy?”

A sigh escaped your lips, a frustrated sigh now. You looked straight at her, sitting by her side. 

“Listen, ma’am, I always told them to send a woman to wake you up, look at me, do I look like someone who likes any kind of boy here?” She shook her head. “That’s what I thought. And, who said you’re too sleepy? These boys around here have no fucking respect for you…”

You pulled the woman closer, holding her tightly. She was warmer than you, obviously because you were outside thirty minutes ago, but still, that makes your heart skip a beat. Again you move your hands to her cheek, and she looks at you with those shining eyes.

“What a beautiful woman I see…” You said. And then, you gently kissed her lips, in a simple way. You used to kiss each other, nothing new. But it was definitely special this time. You felt like it was. Her hands, which had been resting on her thigh, now moved up so that they could rest on your waist. “Won’t you tell me about your…”

She shut you with a finger to your lips, kissing you again calmly, caressing your war scarred face. Your arms, which were a bit stronger than hers, held her against your body, feeling how fast her heart was beating.

“I have to be careful… or you’ll become stronger than me, imagine if they put you in my place?” She made you chuckle softly, moving a hand down to rest on her back.

“You’re making no sense, ma’am. I could never replace you. But I’m happy you noticed…” 

“Well… I always notice, sweetheart.” She gave you a peck on the lips, snuggling into your chest. “You’re my woman, and I know when you get stronger.”

She said it so casually, with her closed eyes as if she was almost asleep; you wouldn’t doubt it. She had just arrived from a long trip after all.

“Your woman…? Mhm… yeah, you’re definitely sleepy. Goodnight, ma’am… I’ll wake you up tomorrow…”

You could hear a “finally” coming from her as she snuggled into your body. You picked her up, taking the woman to the bed, blowing the candles, pulling the blankets over you, finally spooning her from behind and nuzzling her neck.

[irissfoot]

arthur morgan x fem reader

him drawing you nude… fluffy and smutty please

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Soft Lines

╰┈➤ After a few weeks away from each other, Arthur takes his beloved wife to the saloon for a night of drawing and soft love making. ♥

Word count: 890

Warnings: unprotected p in v, kissing, nudity (obvi lol), author has zero sexual experience, not proofread

A/N: This is my first ever fic ive written so please be kind lol, also sorry for the delay ive been rlly busy and everytime I sat down to write it i got scared lol.

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Soft giggles met the gentle crackle of the fire, the warm glow casting a soft shadow over her curves as she posed on the rich red chaise couch.

Dutch had sent him and Lenny on yet another wild goose chase, a habit growing annoyingly common. Because of these pointless missions, he hadn't had time to catch up with the love of his life. To correct this, Arthur took her out to dinner at the saloon in Saint Denis - promptly followed by booking a room for the night. 

And that's how you ended up laying on your side on the couch, as bare as the day you were born. You were reluctant at first, I mean, who wouldn't be? Laying naked as your husband who looks like he was sculpted by the gods, sitting there, drawing you. But with a few kisses and a promise that it wouldn't take too long, you obliged. 

“Are you almost done? I feel silly”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you look gorgeous.” He mumbled as he continued scribbling away, a small smile crept its way onto your face.

“Do you really mean that?” you already knew what his answer would be, but you were growing tired and figured teasing him would help aid that.

He looked up, surprised almost. As if he didn’t say it enough. “Well ‘course I do!” Suddenly an idea popped into your head as he put his head back down.

“Well then show me.” You got up and started walking across the room towards him. Hips intentionally popping out, accentuating your curves.

A smirk made its way onto Arthur's face as he put his pencil and journal down, reaching out to grab onto your soft waist. Pulling you down to have your ass sit flush against his lap. Smiling at you gently as you play with the tuft of hair at his neck, looking lovely into his eyes.

“Don't know what I did to deserve you.” He continued staring into your eyes for a moment, muttering a faint beautiful before leaning in to kiss you. Soft and gentle, those are the words you’d use to describe how Arthur treats you. Holding you like you’re the most important thing in the world to him. 

The kiss became more passionate and deep, kissing down your neck before standing up with you in his arms. Walking back towards the couch, delicately laying you down. You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer as you start to unbutton his black blouse - his favourite but only because you always tell him how handsome he looks in it. 

His hands start to move from your hips and up towards your soft breasts. Massaging them tenderly, making you let out a small sound of protest before breaking from the kiss.

“Arthur, take your clothes off.” Your tone was kind but he knew better than to test you. 

“Yes ma’am.” He sat back on his feet, pulling his arm out of his suspenders as you untuck his shirt pulling it down his shoulders. 

Caressing his shoulders and buff chest as he unbuckles his belt, “God I love you.” Just as he takes his pants off you pull him into a deep kiss. His hands find their way back to your breasts, teasing your nipples as you massage his growing erection.

Mumbles and groans grow louder and you just couldn't take it anymore, pulling away slightly whispering a soft, “Please Arthur.”

You don’t even need to ask a second time before Arthur takes his length in his hand, trailing the tip of his penis between your wet folds moaning at the sensation. 

“Good god women.” He rests his forehead on yours, staring oh so lovely into your eyes before entering you. You couldn't help but moan. It had been a long time since he stretched you out, his ridges rubbing perfectly against your warm velvety walls. Letting out a low groan as he bottomed out. He pulls his hands to your sides, caressing you with a desperation you absolutely adored. 

He started moving, slow, deliberate, and deep. Relishing the noises you were making, the desperate grabs at his back. You needed this just as much as he did. Speeding up a little, hitting your g-spot everytime. Reaching down to bring Arthur's hand into yours, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. 

“Oh God Arthur.” You weren’t gonna last much longer, walls clenching around his  length. Heels digging into his back, pushing him deeper.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” His pace speeding up a little, he wasn’t gonna last much longer either. 

With a few more strokes and messy kisses, you came undone. Walls spasming on his cock with such a vigor he had never felt before. Moaning loudly, you pulled his sweaty forehead down to meet yours once again. He looked into your eyes as he came, watching the way your face contorted when you felt his warm cum filling you up. 

Panting heavily as his thrusts slowed, collapsing down onto you as you panted. Wrapping your arms around him, kissing his head tenderly. 

As you both layed there, the world around you seemed to dissipate. He looked up at you, the orange glow of the dying fire highlighting the sweat on your face and the frizziness of your tousled hair. And he swore, you never looked better.

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[sporadicthingcollection]

Eppur è d'uopo, sforzati! (Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which a stork arrives early, Buggy has a rough day, and you get what you deserve. Pairing: Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Clean. Word Count: ~1.5k. Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth, exploitation of a Devil Fruit power. A/N: good news is that i'm not ovulating anymore bad news is that i got a mental image in my head that wouldn't go away so i'm subjecting you guys to it too. also, this buggy has more of the anime version in him, so just a heads up!

---

It was a power move, plain and simple. Boa Hancock, Warlord of the Sea, refusing to negotiate with anyone away from Amazon Lily. And Buggy, having drawn the short straw, gets ordered under threat of revocation of his title to go do it.

So not only does he have to brave Sea Kings in the Calm Belt, he doesn't even get to go ashore when he gets there. No, he has to send the female crew to deal with it.

And, to make matters worse, you insisted upon going with them. You, with swollen ankles and an aching back. You, waddling around and damn near ready to pop. You, eight and half months pregnant with not just any child, but his child.

How could you be so callous and cruel to him like this? Where do you get off on tormenting him with the knowledge that, if something happens, he won’t be able to get to you? It’s pure sadism is what it is, and he’s wearing a rut in the deck trying to get his mind off of it.

A distant scream splits the air.

Your scream.

---

Nine months. Babies come out at nine months. That's how it's always been, that’s how it always will be.

So then why, oh why, does this little asshole decide to pop out at eight and a half?

A wave of pain wracks you. You double over in your chair.

You suppose you're lucky. You’re in a palace in a private room with a bed, a tub of warm water, anything you could possibly need. The midwife, Cassandra, has gentle hands and comforting words. Dozens of women show up to fuss over you and encourage you, a number of them mothers themselves. Dahlia brings food, Gloriosa sings songs, Marguerite and Sandersonia hold your hands when the contractions get worse.

Even the Pirate Empress herself pays the occasional visit, albeit under the excuse to scold you for making a ridiculous amount of noise. But she always lingers with a curious gaze, and commands that more bedding be brought or that “I must be prepared for when I bear the child of my beloved,” whatever the hell that means.

Too bad they don’t have any morphine.

---

The only thing stopping Buggy from collapsing into a million parts is that he has completely locked up. He cannot move his head, his fingers, his eyes, everything is frozen stiff.

Fortunately for him, Galdino asks the question for him. “She’s what?” 

“I just told you: in labor.” Alvida is way too calm. She dusts her coat, adjusts her hat, buffs out a scuff on her fingernails. “Her water broke right in the middle of the discussion. Three hours of political maneuvering, wasted.”

“I think we got it sorted, though.” The strongwoman shakes her head. “Poor gal. Of all the dumb luck.”

Another scream rips the air. Everyone flinches.

It cuts through Buggy like a knife through... well, himself. He gets his senses back and only one thing consumes his mind.

He vaults over the side of the ship. Kuja laws be damned, he needs to get to you, even if he has to swim for it. Before you get hurt. Or killed. Or worse.

He only realizes the mistake he’s made when he hits the water.

---

You blink in disbelief. “It’s what?”

“Upside-down,” Cassandra says. She adjusts her glasses. “If my intuition is correct, it’s coming out rear end first.”

Breech birth. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised. Your grandmother was a breech, your mother was a breech, your niece was a breech... Breeches all the way down in your family.

And, considering its father, of course the little fucker’s an acrobat.

You groan and fall backwards. Part of you is glad he’s not here. You’d strangle him. The other part wishes he was here. So you could strangle him. And rip his balls off. Hell, you might just do that anyways. DIY orchiectomy.

A contraction wracks you and you yelp.

---

What do you do with a distraught sailor, when the sun is highest?

Hold him back from swimming to the island. He’ll kick and thrash and escape all three of the strongmen and throw himself overboard and Cabaji will have to jump in and fish him out.

What do you do with a distraught sailor, early in the evening?

Lock him up in a cage with Richie. He’ll cut himself to ribbons and slip through the bars and sneak past everyone on deck and throw himself overboard and Cabaji, having just finally gotten himself into dry clothes, will have to take another dip.

What do you do with a distraught sailor, at the witching hour?

Clamp him to the mast with Seastone handcuffs. He’ll pick up a nail on deck and pick the lock and outrun everyone trying to catch him and throw himself overboard and Cabaji will make Mohji jump in this time because he’s getting really sick of this bullshit.

What do you do with a distraught sailor, early in the morning?

Hack off his hands and arms and noggin, throw the Seastone cuffs on his ankles, tie his torso to the mast, stuff his own bandanna in his mouth, then post up guards.

Even gagged, Buggy’s screams rival yours.

---

Just when you’re ready to give up the ghost and will yourself into unconscious bliss, you feel it. Something gives. Then something else. With one mighty push, one mighty curse, and one mighty splat, your child is born.

The baby howls like a beast. You suppose you’d be screaming too if you were covered in shit and viscera and had a full head of hair.

You want to hold it. You need to hold it. "Give-- Gimme it," you sputter.

Cassandra, hands it to you. "A boy," she says.

You’re ashamed to be a little disappointed. Based on the talk, you were hoping for a girl. But it all fades as you hold him in your arms and bring him to your chest, overwhelmed by a tide of hormones and emotion.

He’s a little funny-looking, with his pink skin and little stretched face and his legs at weird angles. But he’s here. A baby. Your baby. Buggy’s baby.

You start to sob.

---

Buggy is once again frozen stiff. He wants nothing more than to help you back aboard, hold your hand as you step over the railing, and escort you to his cabin. It would be the absolute least he could do.

But no. He’s stuck up here on the quarterdeck, doing even less than that. He watches as you make your way up the stairs, clutching a bundle wrapped in a floral-patterned blanket. Dark circles ring your eyes and your gait is stiff and exhausted.

Say something. Anything. “You look like hell,” he says. Goddammit.

Fortunately for him, you huff in amusement. “I’ve certainly been through hell.” You stand closer and angle the bundle towards him. “Wanna see what I found there?”

His hand hovers over the corner of the blanket. What if it’s dead? What if it’s got a dog’s face? What if its hair is red? What if it’s got its father’s--?

“Just look, Buggy,” you scold.

He swallows. He pulls back the corner.

Nestled in the blankets, blinking in the light, is a miniature you. A head full of thick dark hair, already starting to curl at the ends. Dark eyes, peering at him the same way you do. And, right in the middle of its chubby little face, your delicately curved nose.

Heat fills his belly with smoke. He recognizes this emotion. It’s the same one as when he sees someone waving around a treasure map. When he spies a chest overflowing with gold. When he first laid eyes on you.

He can hardly hear his own voice. “She’s gorgeous.”

“He,” you say. Buggy looks at you. You smile. “He’s a boy.”

A boy. A boy. His boy. Your boy. He has a son. You gave him a son.

The smoke catches fire and sets his whole body alight. He snatches the baby -- his son! -- from your arms and holds him -- his son! -- up high, presenting him -- his son! -- to the assembled crew like a boxer holding up a champion belt.

He shouts, bellows, screams for the whole world to hear: “I have a son!”

A cacophony of cheers goes up from every man and woman on the deck and, for a few moments, everything is right in the world. Mohji throws his arms around Cabaji. The strongwoman picks up Galdino and spins him around. Alvida smiles as she leans against her mace. Richie roars. Even the Kuja who escorted you back whoop.

Wait a damn minute. You did all the work. You made his son. You pushed him out. All he did was be in the right place at the right time with a bad pullout game.

He places the baby back in your arms and sweeps you into his own, separating his trunk from his legs to raise you up even higher. He wants to shout something eloquent, an ode to your strength and beauty, a paean to your power, a declaration that you are the greatest treasure he’s ever stolen.

But all that comes out, through snot and tears that he didn’t even realize were flowing, is a garbled, blubbered, “I love this woman!”

The cheers only grow, joined by your clattery laughter.

---

To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar

[f1rewalk3r]

innocuously reblogging this because it’sgood art. no other reason!

Victoria doesn't even need armor, she should stop wearing it

If Victoria removed her armor she’d unleash her full power like Boros in One Punch Man

Credit to @cpericardium

[toastydoll]

Seeing some absolutely RANCID takes about my beloved abbey bominable in the tag tonight so lemme just put this out there

Tall girls can be trans without it being transphobic

Hairy girls can be trans without it being transphobic

Girls with deep voices can be trans without it being transphobic

Buff girls can be trans without it being transphobic

Tall hairy buff girls with deep voices can be trans without it being transphobic

Headcanoning the tall hairy buff girl with the deep voice to be trans is not transphobic

Headcanoning the tall hairy buff girl with the deep voice to be trans is not removing any kind of visibility of “masculine” cisgender women

Trans Abbey won’t hurt you I prommy