#HIS BICEPS???

[whimsiwitchy]

dude i just saw this on twitter and i’m actually drooling rn what the fuck

[ditzybat]

tim with a knife in his hands: damian, step away from the computer

damian reading superbat fanfiction on tim’s personal laptop: i wanted to play roblox, but this is adequate writing, are you in need of a beta reader by chance?

[rafesweetie]

need a jealous bsf!rafe x reader where he is possessive and doesn’t want other guys touching her even though he touches other girls, so she is basically over it and at a party, she dances on another guy and he gets mad

౨ৎ in which bsf!rafe just can’t help wanting to protect you.

you were done with rafe cameron. you’ve decided it. he was your best friend, sure, but he was controlling, mean, overly protective, and he acted like he owned you or something. so you were completely done with him, forever.

this is the third time you’ve promised yourself that, and news flash — you never dropped him.

it wasn’t your fault, you try to tell yourself every time. he just wouldn’t let you leave him, shutting you up whenever you’d even try and be reasonable with him, yelling louder than you or slamming his palm over your mouth. but a little part of you knows that you like the attention. you like that rafe cares so much about you, even if it does ruin your chances of getting a boyfriend. today is the day that you break the pattern though, and rebel against his constant authority.

parties are where rafe thrives. he’s like a celebrity, it always wonders you how much people love him. during parties, he keeps less of an eye on you, assuming you’re just busy gossiping with your friends. but little does he know, you’ve found a boy — it wasn’t often you’d get the opportunity to chat with a boy that wasn’t rafe, and you were loving every second of it. you felt so free from your friend’s gaze, listening to the boy talk, his deep voice vibrating your brain.

but the issue was, the boy was boring. he didn’t talk about cool things, like dirtbikes or his life or death adventures or money. you hated to say it, but he just wasn’t rafe. your mind kept flashing back to him, how much more you smile and enjoy his company. maybe rafe was right. you just didn’t need boys when you have him.

you’re so close to excusing yourself from the boy, going back to rafe’s arm and giggling with him and talking with your faces really close together. you glance back to where he is, ready to retreat, until you see it. you see her.

you’re not sure who she is, but she bothers you. her hair is so gorgeous and healthy, and you can’t see her face from behind but she must be gorgeous. her arm is on rafe’s bicep — your bicep, the one you always hang onto while you’re walking with rafe. you hate that you’re jealous. rafe’s your friend, not your boyfriend, you have no reason to be. but it’s like you can’t control it, your rage, and before you know it, you’re blinking back any potential tears and touching on this boy — this stranger — like there’s no tomorrow. tyla is blasting through the speakers, and yours and these boy’s hands are all over each other’s bodies. you really hope rafe sees you like this, drunk off the smirnoff pink lemonades and enjoying another mans company.

it really doesn’t take long for him to notice. he’s so predictable. shrugging the girls hand off of him, rushing over to his dear friend to get her away from this lowlife.

usually he’d reason with you. coax you away from the boy nicely and lecture you. but he’d had a few beers and a line of coke and he was in no mood for politeness. a rough hand pushes the boy away by the chest, and rafe isn’t muttering a word to anyone, grabbing your wrist and stomping away with you stumbling behind.

he pushes you into a spare bedroom, the first private place he could find. sitting you on the edge of the bed, he starts pacing in front of you and rubbing his face as if this was hurting his head. it’s like your brain flicks a switch, back to “rafe rafe rafe” as you’re sat there with tears brimming your eyes, fiddling with your manicure as you bat your eyelashes up at him, remembering the girl flirting with him, and now you making him mad, and now he’s got you in a puddle of guilt.

“shit— it’s like, you never do what i say, huh?” he mutters, still pacing. “you know i do everything to protect you, kid. you even know who that fuckin’ guy was? no, m’sure you don’t, cause you don’t think. thought by now my voice would be in your pretty head, there to help you make some smart decisions every once in a while. but nah, nah, you see one other boy and it’s back to square one with you,”

you go to speak, glossy lips parting, but he shuts you up with a quick “no”, and stopping pacing to go kneel in front of you.

“everything i do — for you, okay? for you. my girl,” he often calls you that, it makes you weak every time. he grabs your hands. “stop fiddling, paid for this polish.” you stop instantly. “i know— i know you think that my protectiveness is, uh, stupid, but i need to be like this, or you’re gonna get hurt. i know you, baby. i need to be all over you for you to even have a slight awareness to not do stupid things. so i do take some ownership over you in that sense—“

you cut him off, muttering a, “don’t want you to take ownership.”

he huffs. “yeah, but i do, so…” he shrugs. “you’re mine. my friend, my girl. so i don’t like it when someone else touches my girl, or when you’re the one intiating it. makes me so fuckin’ angry, kid, makes me wanna, like—“ he cuts himself off. “so i need you to knock it off.”

you wanna argue so badly, but your brain turns to mush around him. so you sniffle and nod hesitantly.

“no, i want a ‘yes rafe.’ need your words.”

“i just think that—“ you try.

he cuts you off. “yes rafe. say it with me.”

“..yes, rafe.” you both say.

he squeezes your hands and gets up. “yeah, there you go, good girl. now do you, uh, need a minute, fix your makeup, or d’you wanna go back down there and hang out with me?”

your hand goes to his bicep as you stand up with him, and a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. “wanna go with you,” you say softly, leaning into him a bit.

“yeah, that’s what i thought.”

[lucinfernos]

There is beauty in imperfections. They made you who you are.

[thatlioninthecorner]

Opening up Tumblr today got me like:

Full on twst bomb 🤯 (I ain’t complaining tho)

I am LOVING Leona’s new sprite 👀👀👀 He keeps showing his forehead as of late, you know what that means

Still not exactly sure what’s going on in his dream, but OUGH does he look good 🤭

[tibby-art]

wild life thoughts

[starry-nights12]

Girl,we get it.

HE'S YOURS!!!! 😭😭😭😭

Update:

SHE TAGGED HIS ASS!!!

[strawberrylind]

who’s matching my trans grunkle stan freak

[jangmi-latte]

wait if he was a first year here and vil said he bulked up/grew bigger during the latest beanfest then...then what is this. is this not bulky enough what h..how big did he grow now that he's a third year..h-he grew bigger???? h-he gained more muscle now that he's older??? a-and he's still working out???? w-what do you mean wha..what i..i like...like he GREW BIGGER????????

BIGGER!??!??!??!?!!?!!??

[theghostavocadoe]

if you ever feel bad about your anatomy in art, just remember that this is official art used by square enix.

[fawnsflowerbed]

UMMMM NSFW MDNI OBVI!!! PRETTY PLEASE!! RAMBLING ABOUT A POST I FOUND ON X!!!!

ugh… it is EXACTLY how I picture Damnation - RE6 - Vendetta - Death Island Leon would be with you after a long trip. Like he gets back from an awful mission.

OKAY THIS IS STRAIGHT UP A TWITTER CLIP SO TAKE CAUTION BUT!!!! THINK OF IT!!!!

Man’s been lusting, starving, thirsting for his baby. You’ve been all he can think of. Every second, every minute and every hour has been spent wishing he was back between your thighs with your hips grinding against his face. He missed you so damn much. He can’t help but be slow and greedy about it, sure some of the pleasure’s for you but it’s mostly for him. Don’t get him wrong, Leon loves you. He’d give you all the stars in the sky if only he had enough spare time to count them, pluck them from the air with rough fingertips. But a man’s gotta eat after being away from his favourite meal for too long.

I think it’s especially older him cause of the pacing. This isn’t some pussy drunk rookie sucking on anything he could get his pouty mouth around, no this was deeper. This was stubble and sweat, whiskey lingering on his lips as he licks over them. This was calloused hands without callous soul looking for the one thing that could bring him solace. Pussy. Yours, specifically. Aren’t you lucky?

Your hands raking through the dark strands of his hair are what really get him though, he’s not even showered yet. He’s fucked up, bruised and battered, fresh scars littering the Band-Aid battlefield you’d newly set up on his bicep after the last time he got nicked. But he just couldn’t care less. As soon as he got through the door he was dropping his bags, placing a gentle hand around the smooth span of your throat and kissing you. The briefest signal of dominance, of love and affection and trust. Just holding your neck as he carefully drags you backwards into the bedroom, and that was enough for you to know. No words had to be spoken, not yet. And the only ones that dared leave either of your lips? Nothing but whispered comments of bliss. “Fuck, forgot how fast you fall apart on my tongue..”

Your head’s still spinning by the time he’s got your underwear tugged down and your legs tossed over his shoulders. Whimpered breaths shuddering from your lungs in timid gasps, with weak hands keeping him so strong through it all. Leon can feel the way you somehow manage to get wetter at the sight of his return. It’s flattering, really. Then again, so is the way your cunt twitches at even the idea of his cock. It has him chuckling at how impatient you get, even your body’s gotten pouty for dick. “Be patient with me baby, m’ not as young as I used to be.”

You didn’t have any time to ask him about work, or what hurt him this time. That was for another occasion, for long hot baths and replacing old bandages, forehead kisses and making dinner. That was to interrupt your domesticity later, to break the normality of a different scenario.

But here? Here he gets to forget he’s some stupid fucking agent. He gets to forget he’s anyone, all he knows is he’s yours. He’s back home, back with his darlin’, and back with said darlin’s perfect cunt spread wide on his tongue for him to lave on for the next few hours. What more could a man want?

[yrsonpurpose]

#subtle touches

[introspectivememories]

im sorry but i choose to believe that tim drake is the most insufferable "my man, my man, my man" girl about bear. he does not shut up about him. steph is cooking smth in the kitchen? oh my man can do that. bear cooks really well. dick triaging some poor victim on an emergency site? oh my man is really good at that. mhmm, bear is on his way to becoming a paramedic. damian building something? oh my man is really good with power tools. have you ever seen him build ikea? it takes him less than an hour. for our anniversary, he built me a coffee table. mhmm isn't he amazing? yeah my man did that. yeah my man, mhmm that's my ma-

[captain-flint]

I LOVE ARM

[reenthinks]

Inspired by this reel of Mingyu and his big, sexy back 🫶🏻

Warnings: slightly suggestive, Mingyu is shirtless, flirting, kissing 😏, hickeys 😏😏. Not proof read.

Synopsis: Mingyu is a morning person. Reader is a Mingyu person.

Criminal. It was criminal for Mingyu to look this good at 7:23 A.M in the morning. Why was he up so early on a Saturday anyways? Who bakes brownies that early? On a weekend. Then again, your boyfriend was the biggest morning person you’ve ever met. Him baking brownies at the ass crack of dawn was not so out of the ordinary.

“Good morning.” He shoots a debonair smile your way.

“It is not. I do not appreciate being woken up early on the weekend.” You walk up behind him, arms settling around his extremely slutty waist. “I don’t care if it’s because of a sexy, six foot two, shirtless man baking brownies in my kitchen.”

“Dang it. Thought I’d get a handicap.”

“Nope.” You trail kisses up his back. “You’re hot, you know that?”

He chuckles. “What’s gotten into you today?”

“What? Can’t a girl compliment her boyfriend?”

“No, no, compliment away.”

Your hands didn’t hesitate to wander. Mingyu was quite nice to look at. Nicer even, to touch. Your fingers smooth up his very toned stomach, over his chest before cupping the curve of his shoulders. Touch feather-light, descending down the rippling muscles of his back. You could swear you felt him shiver.

“Very touchy this morning, aren’t we?” He says, finally turning around so you could loop your arms around his neck. His hands come to rest on your hips.

“What can I say, you’re very touchable.” You reach up on the tips of your toes, waiting for him to close the distance.

“Mm, is that so?” He says, eyes trained on your lips as he meets you halfway.

The kiss is slow yet sloppy, borderline desperate as both of you kiss the other like they’re going to vanish if you stop. You pull his lower lip between your teeth and he groans. “How about we take this party to the sofa?”

He smiles against your lips, “Yes, and the brownies will just bake themselves.”

You scoff. He presses a couple more kisses to your lips before turning back around and spooning the batter into a baking pan. As he closes the oven door, his hands find their way onto your waist again. “I believe you said something about a party.” His hands lower to the back of your thighs and he pats them twice. You jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist and he moves to a clean part of the kitchen island, setting you down.

Your hands find his hair as he leaves wet kisses on your jaw and down your neck, sucking hickeys into your collarbones. You arch into him as his hands make their way under your shirt, sliding up and down your sides and back. Mingyu pulls you even closer, your legs tightening around his waist.

Your hands wander all over him, up and down his arms, squeezing his shoulders, sliding down his chest and stomach. He seems to like it as he lets out the occasional moan into your mouth. Your fingers hook into the waistband of his shorts and you hear his breath hitch as you pull it and it snaps against his hip.

You break apart for air, resting your forehead against his. He looks straight into your eyes, with the occasional glance down at your lips. He looks pretty; hair tousled, lips pink and slightly swollen, and a slight flush on his cheeks. You kiss him shortly, chuckling as he chases your lips when you pull apart.

Hopping off the counter, you let your pinky intertwine with his for a moment before letting go, making your way back to the bedroom.

“How about a walk once your brownies are done?”

He grins. “I’d like that.”

“Put a shirt on, sexy.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m afraid we won’t make it far from the living room.” You wink at him before disappearing behind the bedroom door.

[bodynblood666]

don’t you love it when.