#HI CHIN DIMPLE
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andy-clutterbuck · 1 year ago
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TEACHERS - SERIES 1
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u3pxx · 7 months ago
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ermmm chilchuck warm-ups from a while ago drawn with the firealpaca marker brush (which i dearly love)
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mustbolt · 9 months ago
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No, my love, perhaps you are sick with heartbreak. I think I shall never have another friend like him. You will always have me.
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viivdle · 7 months ago
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actual feral over the frostbitestudios oak fanart
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MEOOOOOWWWW
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rainyssafespace · 6 months ago
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dreadwo1f · 12 days ago
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just.   * sighs * . . . his sharp cheek bones and jawline will be the death of me.  
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fireflylitsky · 4 months ago
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:3c I couldn't pick so I had to narrow it down to three
AnFuu Jack of All trades (Undead Unluck)
Kai Fuwa - Fixing Overhaul (BNHA)
ZabuTema Abandon Reason
askldfjksadjh I am surprised by the selection?? Very well then :3
Okay Jack of All Trades is a medical kink one shot in which Andy casually divulges he has a PhD (because the man has been alive forever and apparently is good at everything) and offers to give Fuuko a checkup since she probably hasn't had one since before her Unluck ability developed. Fuuko is both mortified and tempted, as she's been concerned with one thing in particular regarding her sexual health for a while now...
Aaaaand snippet time (this one is very wip):
“Oh my god…” Fuuko hisses, face flashing red. “I have to go.”
“No, you don’t,” he calls her out with a laugh. “But hey, if all your stuff is in working order, then alright.”
Yeah. That was the problem. It wasn’t really—not all her stuff, anyway.
She looks at him with a moment of pause, chewing at her lip. “Y-Yeah. No, of course it is.”
Andy raises a brow. “You lyin’?”
“No!” 
“Yeah, you lyin’.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “So what’s the issue?”
“It’s… it’s nothing,” she denies, feeling the burn of her cheeks.
Andy’s face take on a wolfish sort of amusement. “That don’t look like nothin’, Fuuko.”
She huffs indignantly. “Nothing important, okay? All the necessary parts that keep me alive are working just fine and that’s what matters.”
“C’mon,” he chuffs. “All of you matters.”
“Andy…”
“Just tell me.”
“Do you promise not to laugh?”
“Sure.”
“I mean it, Andy.”
“Hey, that makes two of us. You stallin’ for time or what, sweetheart?”
“I… God… I don’t even know how to say this…”
“You got some sorta bowel movement problem or somethin’? IBS?”
“What? No. No, it’s nothing like that. I… this is stupid—I don’t know that it’s even worth mentioning. I doubt you could even do anything about it.”
“Whoa now, pretty hasty in doubtin’ me like that. Keep it up and I’ll get all offended.”
“Well unless you’re a gynecologist, it shouldn’t be all that offensive I’ll have you know!” she blurts, hands fisted at her side and mouth snapping into a tight light, a hot breath puffing from her nostrils.
Well, beans. That just kinda slipped out now, didn’t it?
She expects some snappy zinger back. Like ‘Oh ho, I know the female body intimately’, but instead his mouth pulls into a frown.
“You alright?” he asks, brows pulling together with concern.
“I–yeah…” she mumbles, staring at the floor which is much easier than Andy’s scrutinizing face. 
“Hey." There isn't an ounce of humor or judgment in his voice. “You should tell me what’s goin’ on, I do know some stuff—no bullshit or funny business. I might be able to help.”
“Andy…” she mutters, tipping her eyes up reluctantly. 
“Look, ya don’t gotta be embarrassed,” he assures. “Whatever’s botherin’ ya, well that means it’s botherin’ me too. We could use one of Nico’s labs. Easy. Make it real legit, put you in a gown and all that good stuff.”
“I don’t know, Andy…” she whines. He’s so… comforting? He makes it so darn hard to tell him no. Does she even really want to tell him no? “I mean it, i-it’s really not important. Not in the grand scheme of things.”
His brows angle sternly and he leans in and down, almost even with her height. “I mean it too. Quit tellin’ me you're not important before I do somethin’ stupid.”
“Wh-wha? Like what?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” he hums. Somehow it sounds like a threat coming from him. She doesn’t want to find out to be honest. Surely it’d be embarrassing for her, whatever he decides.
“Okay, fine!” Fuuko caves, throwing her arms up in  exasperation. “I can’t…” she swallows thickly, the words don’t come out. “Look, I-I can’t say. Will you just… I don’t know…. maybe if I just had a regular exam you’d figure out what’s wrong with me?”
“Sure,” he agrees easily. “Ain’t nothin’ 'wrong with you', but sure, Fuuko. Whatever gets ya there.”
Gods, if he only knew how on the nose that is… Nothing is getting her there. That’s the problem. She can’t freaking orgasm. Never has, and odds are looking slim at this point that she ever will. She hears it’s lovely though.
As for the Zabu/Tema fic, that's an enemies to lovers pairing set in an AU where Zabuza and Haku live. Temari (an adult at this point) is investigating a series of disappearances when she comes across this asshole, Zabuza, also investigating the same thing. (Haku and Kimimaro, who he's raised, are both among the missing.) They agree to set aside their differences and work together to infiltrate this complex trafficking operation. It focuses much more on an undercover scenario than fighting.
Snip snappet:
When Zabuza finally passes through the beaded curtain doorway, Temari makes it a point to keep her breath even. Not a sigh of relief in sight, despite the tension shedding away from her shoulders. It took him long enough.
She’s doing her thing, trailing fingers down some guy’s arm so he can feel important as she smiles and finishes delivering his drink. The man thanks her with a yellowed grin and beady eyes that linger on her chest. He’s like all the rest here.
Just as she does any other night, Temari bows–smiles without teeth, appreciative and demure–and pulls back to survey the room for anyone else in need of assistance.
She locks eyes with Zabuza from across the busy, smoke-filled expanse, and a silent acknowledgement passes between them–the plan is in motion and they both have their parts to play. Fucking up in not an option, not when they’ve come this far.
The bristle of nerves Temari feels is annoying at best and she quickly tamps them down. Putting on this act in front of him is no different than anyone else. Just part of the job.
Leaning back in a plush, red velvet chair, Zabuza has his legs splayed like he owns the place. That’s perfect, because the man he’s impersonating basically does. His eyes are on her and he lazily lifts a hand, elbow still leaning on the arm of the chair, two fingers gesturing for her to bring him a drink. 
A weight on Temari’s shoulder draws her attention from Zabuza and to the familiar and unpleasant face of her ‘boss’, Sato, behind her. “That man is very important,” he murmurs, his fingers curling and digging into her clavicle. “You’ll be a good girl and take good care of him.”
Barf.
“Of course, sir.” She smiles so sweetly he can’t even tell she’s choking back bile. Moving to walk away, she finds herself halted, his hand catching her by the jaw, squishing her cheeks to pull her in close.
“When I say good, I mean very good. I mean you’ll give him anything he wants, understand, sweetheart?” he asks, the stench of his breath now in her nose and it is distinctly unforgivable. Luckily for her, the silly contortion of whatever he’s doing to her face hides her disgust. 
So silver linings, or something.
She tries to answer, “yes sir,” but finds nodding to be nominally easier, so she ends up sticking with that.
He smiles, loosening his grip and patting her cheek like maybe he thinks she’s a dog–a good one–and she half-expects him to fish a treat from his pocket and chuck it at her face. 
Instead Sato pushes a highball glass filled with premium whiskey into her hands–neat. “Take this to him.”
Again, she agrees with practiced submission and he eats it right up.
Good boy, she thinks. Despite the nasty little cretin he is, everything is going perfectly, so she can’t complain too much.
She takes the glass and feels those nerves again. They’re bubbling in her gut and they almost come out as some sort of psycho laughter. It’s difficult not to smile when she returns her gaze to Zabuza—some giddiness at their batshit plan actually working so far—but his is pitched sternly and unwavering. 
It straightens her out immediately. It’s almost intimidating, the way he’s looking at her, and she can’t help but feel like he’s playing his part a little too well.
That’s fine, she decides, because she will too.
With one whiskey in hand, she weaves her way across the room, hips swiveling and shoes clacking against bamboo floors. Her and Zabuza don’t break their stare and she notices every time it appraises her up and down.
"Sir?" she greets on her approach. “I hope this is to your liking.” Just as she’s trained, she leans in, allowing him a nice view as she touches his arm with a friendly caress.
He’s just like anyone else, she reminds herself.
Zabuza takes the drink without a word and looks at the hand she’s laid on him, then back to her face. After a long pause, he takes a sip. Temari is waiting for him to pull her onto his lap like they planned so she can discreetly go over important details with him, but of course, he is busy being an ass.
“Sir?” she prods sweetly through gritted teeth.
He takes another sip and a deep breath through his nose. “Fine,” he says on the exhale before reaching out, his hand finding the small of her back and pulling her onto his lap. He’s not exactly gentle and she stumbles into straddling him. 
There’s a flicker of a glare from her. It’s not enough to be noticed by anyone else, but it’s enough to put a smirk on his stupid face.
“You’re late.” She’s annoyed and wants an explanation, but her words don’t match the rest of her. She’s looking up at him from beneath thick lashes, blinking patiently in waiting and steadying herself against him with hands splayed and sweeping across his broad chest.
Zabuza examines her keenly. She isn’t used to being this close to him and she certainly isn’t used to him without his face wrappings. Her nerves flare once more and she hopes they don’t show. 
The corner of Zabuza’s mouth quirks up the slightest bit as he leans in slowly, nosing into her hair. “This little act of yours has gotten pretty convincing, Kuniochi,” Zabuza murmurs, mouth to her ear so no one can read his lips.
“It’s always been this convincing,” Temari counters, allowing her hips to settle just a little lower onto his. It never leaves her mind that she has eyes on her, and every move she makes must be perfect. “You just haven’t seen it before. Doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Do I look bothered to you?” He pulls back just enough to be met with his gaze and she studies it coolly. It’s as cold and hard as his blade and his mouth pressed into a tight line—a feature she doesn’t often see, so she lingers there a moment longer.“You look as you always do,” she finally answers, tapping her index thoughtfully against his lips before allowing that fingertip to trail down to his chin and rest in the small dimple there, “so yes.”
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ohithankyou · 16 days ago
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buck has back dimples. i know he does
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ofdaisy · 3 months ago
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🫡🫴🏼😪
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bedforddanes75 · 8 months ago
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how could you ever hate him he's too pretty to hate
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andy-clutterbuck · 2 years ago
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Edgar Bradley The Murmuring (2022)
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jonathanbyersphd · 5 months ago
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Carmen Cuba really does have her work cut out for her like Charlie Heaton has such interesting facial features
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childoftheriver · 1 year ago
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Oh
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lemxioz · 2 years ago
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if they don't animate Caleb's chin dimple in the M9 show i will commit arson
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skunkes · 1 year ago
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mauvewalker · 1 year ago
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