#It's on Andrew's calf

[jtl-fics]

This came randomly to me but imagine an au where neil gets into the habit of doodling on andrew instead of his hw and one day he just draws the key that Andrew gave him from memory. And Andrew just. Gets it tattooed. From then on it opens a floodgates and anything that neil draws that Andrew likes gets just drawn on permanently

That's so sweet I think I'm getting a cavity!

I always think of Neil getting the Key (on his hip where Andrew kissed him during THE SHOWER SCENE) and Andrew getting the Keyhole over Neil's favorite spot to kiss on his neck (Andrew may in fact like Neil's fetish).

Nicky makes some jokes but for Andrew Neil unlocked a lot of stuff (feelings / experiences) for him and for Neil Andrew is home.

[scholliski]

I’ve just remembered that canonically Andrew carries even more knives than just the ones in his armbands, where does he keep them? Just chilling in his pocket? Shoved into his socks? Wadded in his mouth like tiny toothpicks? The possibilities are endless here

[sitting-on-me-bum]

African Savanna Elephant Calf

By Andrew Y. Liu of Austin, Texas, USA

African Wildlife Photography Awards

[poetrysmackdown]

[detectivebambam]

"andrew with a medusa tattoo" "andrew with a knife tattoo"

Andrew with a Two-Headed Calf tattoo. for. for him and. Aaron

[beetboxx]

a siren’s call home - a.h.b x reader

pure, sickeningly sweet fluff in which you wake up to andy home from tour, finally.

content disclaimers: not proofread, religious reference, reference to sexual activity but no smut, language? maybe?

author’s note: we are so back squad. it’s only been like two years. i haven’t written in so long so we can call this a test run as i get back into the swing of things. ill update my intro post to better align with what im into! feel free to come and talk to me about prompts, ideas, random thoughts, whateva. i miiiiiiggghhhhtttt write some smut next. hope you enjoy!!

orange light intruded through window shutters like holy arms, caressing the cozy room you laid in with a touch of warmth to counteract the bite of cold at your feet and nose. what was also fighting against that was the thumb stroking the small crevice between your nose and your cheek, not doing much to help but comforting nonetheless. it was the exigence to your wakeup, a bit alarming at first until you understood the source- a large hand with long fingers attached to a proportionally long man smiling like the protruding rays of sun through draped brown, ginger-ish curls, most of it lazily pulled back into a bun at the back of his neck. you registered the vague freckles speckling his cheeks as you blinked lazily, huffing and tensing your grip in your blanket.

“hi.” he said, breathing out a laugh as you felt his calf rub up against yours and his hand smooth against your cheek to your hair to comb his fingers through it as best he could, his nails scratching your scalp ever so slightly.

you sleepily murmured a response, a quick, “hi, andy,” scrunching up your face when his palm returned to your cheek. his other ventured to your waist under the comforter, soft and delicate and squeezing the plains and valleys of your side a bit when he felt like it.

”you’re pretty.”

for such a poetic and profound man, able of expressing emotions so difficult to pin down, he was seemingly struck dumb in this moment over the sight of you. maybe in order to allow his wisdom to return, maybe in order to attempt to become impossibly close to you, his other hand paralleled the other on your waist, pulling you into his torso and wrapping around to meet at the small of your back. you nuzzled into his chest, taking in his familiar scent of a cologne reminiscent of dark forestry and a breeze and placing your own hand on his shirt at his heart to feel it flutter at your fingertips. comfortable, comforted.

“when’d you get back?” you asked, voice coming out as a mellow drawl.

andrew hummed, placed a kiss on the top of your head. “late.”

“you should have woken me up,” you whined, rubbing your eyes.

another kiss, this time to your forehead where your skin meets your hairline. his lips were warm against your chilled skin.

“you say that,” he teased, accent thick with sleep and homecoming, “but you would have crucified me had i actually done that.”

“crucified, no. pinned you to the bed in a similar pose and jumped your bones, maybe.”

you grinned, leaning your head back to allow enough room to kiss his jaw. a stubble met your lips, one that had grown out and been trimmed many times over the course of his touring, all phases of which you unfortunately, miserably, missed.

“hush. you’re dreaming.”

“am not.”

andrew laughed, you squeezed him in your arms. his laugh, although quiet in volume, felt like a dose of hospital-grade medicine to your yearning-induced blues in your system as soon as it entered your ears. his voice and presence was coaxing you awake, a process usually so difficult and taxing, flooding your growing consciousness in a pool of comfort. you missed him. you missed him like a wilted flower misses the sun. you missed him in a way that could only be equated to something of cosmic origin.

“i missed you,” he whispered. thank god.

you returned his sentiment. silence then fell like a thick blanket over you both, thicker than the one bunched up at your shoulder. it sat there for a long while, robbing the both of you of thought except for the feeling of relief. andrew’s thumb rubbed back and forth on your back, a reminder of existence so you didn’t float away. you could have sworn he fell asleep with how quiet he was and how steady and light his breathing was.

you sighed, began squirming your way to get up at least to a sitting position- but you didn’t get far, that ambition quickly being squashed by two lean arms squeezing tightly, barring you from moving away from andrew.

“no.”

a mumble, quick and straight to the point. you huffed out a chuckle, choosing not to argue and enjoy the moment. moments, andrew decided for the both of you. very long, undescriptive in quantity moments. one of his hands moved up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in closer and raking into your hair to rub at your scalp. he was wearing a gray crewneck, you noticed, with unfamiliar blue embroidery of the name of some U.S. state, vintage style. you didn’t recognize it, guessing he must have gotten it on tour at whim.

he was definitely tired- exhausted, even. the lines and circles of color under his eyes had emphasized themselves, but the sight of you gave them a certain light that made you know he wasn’t going to sleep. too many thoughts, too many things to do now that he was home and finding himself complete. he was completely overwhelmed with the feeling of being home that he felt perfectly energized- that, and three cups of coffee he had had just before laying down beside you definitely helped. he took your hand in his as if he was inviting you to a dance, pressing the back of yours against his chest. to further trap you in his web or to just get closer to you, you’ll never know.

“honey, i have to get up eventually,” you remarked, trying to convince yourself more than him.

“no you don’t,” andrew immediately replied without skipping a single beat, tightening his grip on you in case you tried to pull a fast one on him and get out of bed. one of his legs, clad in loose cotton sweatpants, swung over both of yours under the covers, effectively holding you right where he wanted you in his arms.

“andrew, i have to be a functioning member of society,” you joked, wiggling around just a little with no actual attempt to break free from his hold. truthfully, you could never: he had a hold on you and your heart so tight and driven by fate that you were damned for eternity to be consumed by your love for him.

“i can make you breakfast,” you added, craning your neck back to smile at him.

andrew hummed, clicking his tongue. “ooh. very enticing and unfair,” he said. “trying to seduce me with the prospect of food.”

“seduce? i am merely giving you incentive.”

he paused, thinking. his head tilted, as it often does when he is thinking. you took his occupation with thought for an opportunity to make a smart decision and begin your day, freeing yourself from his entrapment and slinking off the bed. he acted quick, however, letting out a noise of surprise and disappointment wrapped in one and throwing himself across the bed to your side. andrew wrapped his arms around your waist as you stood, stopping you from moving too far away from

him. not again. you figured he would be a bit clingy getting back from tour, but this was taking it too another (but very welcomed) level.

“andrew!” you whined without any real weight to it as his chin rested on your hip, grinning happily. your fingers tangled themselves in his wild hair, frizzy from travel and the usual irish moisture. his hair tie was certainly not doing a fantastic job at keeping it all back, strands thick and thin escaping its weak confines. you giggle, “you’re like a puppy sometimes, you know that?”

“and you’re like.. ehm.. a siren.”

you playfully scoffed, “a siren?”

“oh, yes, a siren,” he grins, pulling your waist in until you were sitting back on the bed. “a beautiful but relentless creature with an inclination for luring and trapping defenseless men such as myself.”

“and eating them,” you added.

“whatever,” andrew said, pulling himself up to sit beside you so he could drag you into his lap. you turned yourself and straddled his thighs, arms wrapping around his neck, your intentions for the morning entirely forgotten.

he kissed your lips, softly, like he was testing the waters. you thought your breath stunk for a second with how gentle he was- until you tried to peel away, only for him to grab your face and keep you in his entrancing kiss. he deepened it, mouth opening slightly in rhythm with yours, lips dancing together like they hadn’t in so long.

you stayed that way for a while, letting andrew delicately consume your heart and soul and very essence with his neglected mouth. you could feel his breath mix with yours and span over your cheeks, and you swear it was full of helium with how light and floaty your lungs felt. you pulled away, eventually, taking a little more willpower than you would like to admit as his charged lips pulled yours in like a magnet.

he sighed, happy and content as he stared at you with big eyes, twinkling with every overwhelming emotion he had towards you.

“you have me entirely whipped, woman. like a siren.”

“i know,” you replied, kissing his lips again. “i’m glad you’re home.”

“i know.”

[radiansjort]

The Minyards’ and Hemmicks’ Names

I don’t think I’ve seen anyone point this out, but it was one of the first things I noticed when I read the books; Andrew, Aaron, and Nicky all have Biblical/Catholic names. It makes sense because Luther and presumably Tilda are Catholic, but their Biblical names also correspond with who they are as characters.

Andrew: In the Bible, he is one of Jesus’ 12 Apostles. He was brother to Simon Peter, who was Jesus’ closest Appstle. The name Andrew itself means ��strong” and “warrior,” and in the books Neil narrates how strong he finds Andrew; we can also see him as a warrior when he protects Nicky especially as well as the other Monsters.

Joseph: There are 2 Josephs in the Bible and both fit Andrew’s character. The first is Joseph the father of Jesus on earth. He was seen as the ultimate protector because he protected the Holy Family and followed God’s call to stay with Mary. He protected Jesus from being killed as an infant by taking him and Mary to Egypt shortly after his birth. Obviously, Andrew is very much a protector. He is very protective of all the Monsters and frequently called a “mom friend” in the fandom. The other Joseph, is Joseph son of Jacob (Israel). He was the favorite son of his 12 brothers, and all of the brothers were jealous. Because of this, they leave him in a ditch and sell him as a slave to the Egyptians. As a slave, he works his way up the ranks to become the Pharaoh’s adviser because he can interpret dreams. Eventually during the famine, his brothers and father come to Egypt in hopes of finding food, and Joseph forgives them for selling him off. There is obviously the similarities of complicated brother relationships which is very much Andrew and Aaron, but I say he also relates to this because Joseph reconciles with his brothers, and post canon Andrew and Aaron begin to reconcile and really have a relationship with one another.

Aaron: In the Bible, Aaron is the brother of Moses and a high priest among the Israelites. He helps them along their journey to the Promised Land. One of the most notable things he does is while Moses is on Mt Sinai, he builds a golden calf for the Israelites to worship. When Moses sees this, he gets so angry and upset that he smashes the Ten Commandments and has to climb the mountain to receive them again. I see this as Aaron (Aaron) and Andrew (Moses) and their early relationship. After their deal is made, Aaron doesn’t understand the significance of this and instead goes against what they agreed to (kind of like—> Aaron and Moses were both priests and dedicated to God and Aaron went against that with the idol) and it almost reflects how Aaron beings to go against their deal.

Michael: Michael the Archangel is the warrior and protector of the Church, and he is the one who directly opposes Satan and defeats him. I see it as pretty fitting, because in the end, who is it that kills Drake?

I find the twins names so very fitting because not only do they relate to their characters, every one of them in the Bible had a brother. (If you count the other Archangels as Michael’s “brothers.”)

Unlike the twins, Nicky’s names are not the names of Biblical figures, but instead of Catholic saints.

Nicholas: St. Nicholas was known for his generosity, as he gave his wealth to the poor. And probably what he’s most known for, he gave gifts to the poor at night inside their shoes. (Which brought about the story of Santa Claus). I think this fits Nicky well, as he gave everything he had to the twins. He gave up living a normal teenage life to instead not go to school and instead work 3 jobs to keep him and the twins all afloat. Also more obvious, St. Nicholas is the patron saint of children and known as the protector of them. That very obviously relates to Nicky as he protects and cares for the twins.

Esteban: The English equivalent of Esteban is “Stephan,” and St. Stephan is known as the first martyr. He is actually mentioned in the bible, but doesn’t appear on page. He refused to denounced the Catholic faith, so he was stoned to death. This is similar to Nicky because Nicky again gave up everything for the twins, and he was the first person to really give everything he had for these two.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

"i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know." for Victor

Destroy this boy with a flirty letter ;)

Picking up postman and squeezing him like a squeaky toy lol

Rated: Mature | Warning: none

Rarely does anyone send letters between each other, a few times a letter is sent from a hunter to a survivor but none send a letter among the same faction. Postman, Victor, apprentices you using the pen and paper to communicate with him. When you first met him, he would shy away from you, energetic as Luca, he barely could keep up. Then one day you started using your hands to make strange gestures.

“Helena taught me sign language so I can talk to you!” The joy on your face as you thought you created a bridge between him and yourself. You did but not the way you thought. Victor is mute, selectively mute, and he prefers the words on paper rather than verbal words.

The first letter you sent was mostly rambling about the day as you did not see that whole day due to matches and the occasional break to recuperate before once again going to a match.

The second letter asks him questions. Colors, food, a season, anything you could think of that is not invasive. Victor answers them while slipping in a few details you did not ask about him in order to seem more open. You matched it as you spoke about things before you came to the manor.

Then the letters between you both became a common way for you two to communicate until Victor, in his room with you, spoke softly. A small ‘thank you’ had you in tears of joy as he trusted you. Few can claim that— Literally three people outside of yourself.

And as the bond between you both grew so did feelings that started being expressed in the letters. His words are gentle, dancing around cautiously; while yours are to the point and announce your interest.

As someone from a time ahead of his, Victor felt it made things easier.

What is not easy is how you flirt so casually without shame or fear, people of your time move fast compared to his time.

The letter in his hand is held in a furious grip before closing it and facing it down; his face is red as he cannot move his eyes up to look at you across the dining table. Your foot rubs his calf, nearly making him jump.

A simple few words have his mind scrambling: I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you should know. Love, (Name).

You smile at him, your fork playing with your food. Luca is beside you talking to Andrew and Aesop, all of them distracted while you are playing footsies under the table with Victor.

“Are you okay, V?” The nickname you gave him, “You feeling sick?” How can you see that while your foot is rubbing his crotch through his pants!? He should close his legs but… That look in your eyes is drawing him in.

“Your face looks flush,” Comments Andrew, “Maybe you should rest.” It makes sense given Victor has been in back-to-back duo matches recently. Those are a headache.

“Good idea!” Luca chimes in, “(Name), can you take him?”

“Of course.” Smiling as you get up from your seat, “You guys take care.” You place a small kiss on Lucas's cheek and Victor is standing up grateful for his uniform covering his lower half. The Postman waves goodbye before you tug him away out of the dining room.

Aesop watches the two leave before looking at Luca who is smiling too much, “You know something.”

“Maybe.” He does and completely changes the subject.

Victor pins you against his door with his hands on your shoulders, his eyes on you as his brows are knit together, “Are you really?” Low but you hear it.

“Yes, I'm not lying.”

The Postman should have known since you are wearing a skirt, yes, a skirt. You hate skirts! You complain about them especially when in a match. Yet, here you are in a long skirt in his room… Without underwear.

“Show me.” An edge to his sweet voice, his eyes and head tilting down.

You grin, “Okay.” Grabbing the middle of the skirt and lifting until you hear that gasp of surprise and cool air on your exposed lower regions. “Victor?”

He swallows loudly, “Can I?” His one hand off your shoulder, “May I?”

“Of course, this is for you.”

You might have underestimated Victor. You expected to be the one guiding and in control, dominant but gentle. No, Victor took over with his mouth on yours, a leg between your legs, and his hand that has your hands gripping the back of his uniform. His mouth never leaves yours, the sharp intake of air only when you both are dizzy, and you are the one making the most noise.

There are sweet whispers between kisses, those three words that have you begging him to touch you more.

Both of you barely get to the bed, fumbling a bit to strip, tripping and falling on one another but luckily on the bed.

[simmisstrait]

#118 Throw The Rope - Request Posepack

Included:

● 8 Poses

❗ All poses will be linked to the regular poses starting in September, including the numbers.

You’ll need:

∙ Andrew’s Pose Player

∙ Teleport Any Sim (Updated version)

∙ Calf

∙ Saddle

✾ I really would like to see if you use my poses! So tag me at tumblr or instagram.

Disclaimer:

Every Sims is different, so the poses can maybe different than in my photo. There may be clipping

DOWNLOAD Or TSR

T.O.U.

✾ Please tag me on insta,  if you use it, i would love to see it

✾ Don’t re-upload!

✾ Don’t claim as your own!

✾ Don’t put this behind a paywall

✾ Don’t re-edit (ask permission first

✾ Please let me know if somthing doesn’t work!

@ts4-poses  @sssvitlanz @love4sims4 @emilyccfinds @maxismatchccworld @mandy-ccfinds @itsjessicaccfinds @nolan-sims-ccfinds

[akumastrife]

might drown in these tides between us // AFTG (Selkie/Pirate AU)

Rating: Mature (canon typical violence, drinking and drug use, smut in later chapters, mentions of past abuse.) Fandom: AFTG/The Foxhole Court Pairings: MattNeil and Andreil (background: MattDan, Rennison, Allison/Seth, maybe I'll throw kevin in there idk the devil's been speaking to me.) pirates love sharing booty ok this ship's open relationships are vast Word Count: CHAPTER 1 (out of????) 3.7k {Read full chapter on AO3 and subscribe for future chapters!} Summary: Neil's spent too long running and hiding, too long lying and pretending, to ruin it all with a stupid bout of carelessness. He should run, but with one foot on land and the other in the sea and his skin pulling too tight wherever he goes, he's running out of options as his past gets closer to catching up to him. Or: The Selkie!Neil AU that got away from me. Written for the @aftg-paranormal event =3

“Crossbow!” Dan roars over the ringing canon fire.

“Not for long,” Allison throws back. She lunges over a sliding box and scoops up a rifle out of Renee’s hands. “Seth!” She shouldn’t’ve wasted the breath. He’s already sprinting across the deck and skidding between her and the railing.

She swings the barrel of the rifle onto his shoulder to steady and—between one breath and the next—they’re both deathly still on the rolling deck; Allison sighting her target high up in the other ship’s rigging.

Neil’s not sure his ears will ever stop ringing from the boom of cannons, the shouting, the clang of metal, the splintering of wood. But in that moment as he ducks behind the mast, he can somehow hear the exact moment Allison inhales slow and smooth, the catch as Seth doesn’t breathe at all, and fletching singing through air as an arrow skims scant centimeters from Allison’s cheek.

He watches the drop of blood fall to the deck, soaking in. 

She fires and the man tumbles down, scream stolen on the wind.

Seth cheers as Nicky whoops, hurling something at him. Neil doesn’t get a good look at what—Seth swings a cricket bat and sends it sailing across the space between their ships.

Another man falls.

It’s over fast after that, with a furiously waving white shirt and several of the crew swinging over onto the enemy deck.

Neil stays where he is, heart thumping fast but not from exertion. The boarding crew will handle what to take, who to spare. He’s content not to have a hand in it, distancing himself from the violence as much as he can. Instead focusing on keeping his head down and bringing Abby and Aaron bandages where needed, clumsily catching the hammer Andrew tosses at him to start temporary patching. He grimaces at the jarring of his thumb, but says nothing.

The work is becoming familiar, and there’s a certain surety in having a set role. Knowing what’s expected of him even if he hasn’t yet got a handle on all of it. He’s learning. Fast enough, if Kevin is only snapping at him that they’ll dump him on the nearest island, instead of actually doing it. They’ve passed two already this week, and Kevin has yet to make good on any threats.

He deftly coils up rope, and ties down a crate that’s come loose.

He climbs the rigging with a thick needle in his mouth to stitch up a rip in a sail. Almost-smiles at Nicky across the way, hanging down by his knees to catch a bulky spool of the waxed thread they use for repairs. Nicky smiles enough for both of them, laughing brightly at something Dan’s said, leveraging himself up to join him in his work.

Neil’s not forgiven him. Might not for a while yet. But he can accept the spool and cut off a length with the knife strapped to his chest before handing it back.

It’s all necessary, but tedious at the same time. A little less so with the chatter and cheers and ribbing floating around him. He’s happy enough letting it happen without him, sinking into the folds.

Familiarity is certain death. Familiarity breeds complacency—will make him docile as a calf to slaughter.

He clenches his hand against the trembling, forces a cough through the tight squeeze in his chest. Shakes his mother’s voice from his head.

Shakes Nicky’s eyes from him as he wipes his hand on his breeches, surprised at the smear of blood. He sticks his pricked finger into his mouth, ignoring the sting and the taste of grime, salt, and gunpowder ground into his skin.

That, too, is becoming familiar enough to not be worth his notice.

He’s not sure if it’s crashing waves or seabirds screaming in his ears.

{Read the rest of the first chapter on AO3 and subscribe for future chapters!}

[mikerickson]

2/17/2024

Woke up in the middle of the night with a horrible charley horse (why are they called that?) in my right calf that took about a minute to subside. I thought I was being quite about it,but apparently I was screaming and Andrew though I was being murdered.

Went to my favorite restaurant for a delayed birthday outing and got jersey clam chowder, which is 50% New England clam chowder, 50% Manhattan clam chowder. Several disgusted looks around the table were directed at me.

Went ice skating for the first time in 14 years by my count. I used to go a ton when I was a kid and kept up a little bit through college, but it took longer than I'd like to admit for me to get the hang of it again. But I did get there, even though my ankle muscles were on fire.

I only fell 4 (four) times.

While I was taking a break I mentioned smelling funnel cake and ended up in a strange conversation about it with a stranger who was watching his kid from outside the rink. One of my friends said it was my birthday (I uncharacteristically did not correct him that my birthday was on Tuesday), and the guy came back 10 minutes later with funnel cake fries he had bought for me.

Today my feet are fucking killing me.

[kiwiaok]

I know that ppl usually write after-sex-andrew as distant, often leaving the room, etc (it actually might even be canon with how often I’ve seen that) but. I’ve been thinking about how kid andrew must have felt after being sexually abused and I imagine he felt very lonely. used and empty and disgusting and so very lonely. and I like to think that after-sex-andrew doesn’t leave neil. perhaps he’s not cuddly but he almost always stays – keeps his palm on neil’s calf or combs his fingers through neil’s hair. bc even though andrew knows sex is not the same as what’s been done to him and neil is in an entirely different headspace, as long as there’s any chance that neil could feel like andrew did back then - abandoned and lonely and used - andrew will do everything in his power to prevent it. so he will stay.

[she-karev]

Trying to Get Pregnant (Smut) (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister)

Previous Part Here

Age Rating: 16+

Chapters: Five of Five

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 18 Episode 17

Warning: Smut

Summary: Amber comes home to find out what Andrew has planned for them this evening.

Words: 1177

February 18th, 2022

Amber waits in the living room of her and Andrew’s house while her husband sets up the bedroom for their second attempt at having a baby. They both tried to get through the day as normally as they could without giving away their plans for tonight.

It was hard for Andrew to keep his emotions to himself since he helped Link with his dying patient who’s wife is heavily pregnant after years of trying. It made him extremely grateful that he and Amber were both healthy enough to try to have a baby. It also made him want to go the extra mile on his part tonight like she did last night. Andrew comes out of the bedroom and stands in front of Amber with a loving grin that she shares.

“Okay I’m ready. Close your eyes.”

Amber looks taken back but does so causing him to grab her hands and be her guide. He holds her hips behind her and walks them both down the hallway leading to their bedroom. He stops her outside the door, opens it and walks her inside making sure her eyes were still closed. He stops both of them in the middle of the bedroom.

“Okay now open them.”

Amber opens her eyes and is awestruck by the sight. Their blue bedspread is covered with red rose petals. There is a line of candles on the drawers providing a dim light in the dark room. The record player on her left is on with Italian Love Songs by Dean Martin playing against the needle. The entire setting makes Amber’s heart flutter at how her husband took the time to make their plain bedroom romantic for their second attempt at getting pregnant.

“Wow.” Amber says with a smile and turns to Andrew who has a proud grin, “This almost ties up with my date.”

Andrew chuckles, “I know it’s not a rug by the living room or The Ritz in Paris and it’s probably a fire hazard but still I put a lot of thought into it.”

Amber puts her palm over his chest and grins, “It’s perfect.”

Andrew smiles at that before leaning down to kiss his wife who holds his face in her hands as she kisses him deeply. He closes the bedroom door with his foot not taking his attention away from her as his hands move from her hair to her back to her jean clad bottoms that he squeezes gently before lifting her up. She giggles against his mouth wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifts her.

He moves them to the rose petaled bed laying her on her back as he continues to kiss her moving from her lips to her neck before lifting her shirt up and kissing her flat stomach. She sits up so he can take off her shirt exposing her in her white lace bra before doing the same thing for him taking off his shirt and exposing his ripped physique that she never gets tired of seeing and exploring.

He breathes heavily as he leans down to take her jeans off kissing her calf causing her to grin and breathing heavily as well overcome with lust. After taking her bottoms off he does the same for his own leaving him in his black boxers and her in her white lace bra and panties set.

He moves them to the middle of their bed so she can prop her head against the pillow while her husband hovers above her exploring her taut and soft body with his hands. He squeezes one of her breasts that perfectly fits his hand before pulling the cup down and gently biting her nipple. She responds with a moan, arching her back towards his talented mouth.

He chuckles lightly at her reaction before coming back up and kissing her overlapping his tongue with hers. She glides her hands over his muscular back pulling him towards her before moving to his boxers and grabbing his perfect ass that he clearly likes as he moans against her mouth. She unhooks her bra while kissing him and he takes it off her before moving his hands down to her panties lightly rubbing her sensitive area over the white lace before removing them.  

He takes his boxers off throwing them on the floor with the rest of their clothes and they both lay on the bed naked with him on top of her. They enjoy each other as their hands explore the parts they know so well as their lips collide in heated passion with the romantic Italian music filling the room.

He enters her easily as she’s ready for him and she moans as his lips move to her neck. He moves inside her slowly enjoying the feeling of her and treasuring this moment with her. She pants against his ear and holds his back against her small hands as he continues to move his hips against her slowly that she revels in with every thrust. While he kisses her neck his hands grip her curvy and pale hips pulling her towards him lightly squeezing her flesh as he picks up the pace causing her to moan and pull his head back up to hers so she can kiss him as he moves.

Andrew can’t get enough of her silky softness and sweet scent as he drives deeper into her body, and she feels the same with his muscular form against hers. Her cries grow louder moaning inside his mouth as she nears her completion. He pants against her mouth as he’s near the end and fastens the pace causing her hips to rise off the bed reaching her peak and gasp as she stops kissing him and puts her face against his broad shoulder. Her contractions are the last straw for him as he jerks and pulses in release grunting his pleasure next to her ear. He collapses on top of her feeling the aftershocks panting next to her ear as does she while she lazily strokes his back with her fingers.

After a minute he holds himself up above her with his elbows and looks deep into her eyes seeing the same satiated look he has as well before kissing her tenderly and rolling off her. He covers both of them with the blanket letting the petals scatter on the floor. His wife looks at the ceiling with a dazed look as she still feels the aftermath of their recent love making. A smile slowly crosses her face that he sees.

“I take it back; this beats my date night.”

He chuckles at her competitive side before pulling her against him and kissing her before laying on his back with her lying on his side. She eagerly presses herself against him, putting her head against his chest and draping her arm across his ribcage while he wraps his arm around her back pulling her towards him. They let the soft lull of sleep take them as they drift off in each other’s arms.

[poetrysmackdown]

welcome to the 2023 tumblr poetry smackdown

tumblr has developed something of a canon of poetry over the past couple years, and i figured others might enjoy getting a chance to voice their opinions on a few of those poems! poems i chose for the poetry smackdown had to be more or less widely read on tumblr (generally 10k+ notes, most with more or spread across compilations), and relatively short so as to make voting easier. they also had to be complete—there are a lot of popular lines floating around on tumblr that are excerpted from very long poems and/or poems that are inaccessible via internet, and those aren't included here. a handful of poets are represented here twice reflecting my sense of their popularity, but i arranged the bracket in such a way that it won't be able to stay that way past round 2 at the latest. if i missed a poem that is super popular i'm sorry, that said the bracket is staying as is because this was a shit ton of work to put together and i don't want to. ty.

you can get to the polls by following the links below or going to the #round1 tag on my blog. you can also send me propaganda if you want via ask and i'll post it/add it to the next round's post if the poem wins.

happy voting!

sincerely amelia @poetriarchy :)

ROUND 1: ENDS JULY 17 at 6pm EDT

"The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin vs. "Butter Dish" by Leonard Cohen (cow poems)

"Poem" by Langston Hughes vs. "A Meeting" by Wendell Berry

"Miss you. Would like to grab that chilled tofu we love." by Gabrielle Calvocoressi vs. "My Sister, Who Died Young, Takes Up The Task" by Jon Pineda

"Hammond B3 Organ Cistern" by Gabrielle Calvocoressi vs. "Hong Kong" by Sue Zhao

"someone will remember us" (fragment by Sappho trans. Anne Carson) vs. "Wait" by Faraj Bou al-Isha trans. Khaled Mattawa

"The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel vs "Invisible Fish" by Joy Harjo

"Want" by Joan Larkin vs. "Come, and Be My Baby" by Maya Angelou

"Swan" by Mary Oliver vs. "How I Go to the Woods" by Mary Oliver

"The Orange" by Wendy Cope vs. "The Tenor of Your Yes" by Mary Ruefle

"Here There Are Blueberries" by Mary Syzbist vs. "Instructions on Not Giving Up" by Ada Limón

"To The Young Who Want to Die" by Gwendolyn Brooks vs. "A Litany for Survival" by Audre Lorde

"Night Walk" by Franz Wright vs. "Meditations in an Emergency" by Cameron Awkward-Rich

"Summer Was Forever" by Chen Chen vs. "I'm not a religious person but" by Chen Chen

"How to Be a Dog" by Andrew Kane vs. "Scheherazade" by Richard Siken

"I'm going to Minnesota where sadness makes sense" by Danez Smith vs. "Dream Song 29" by John Berryman

"Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara vs. "Having 'Having a Coke with You' with You" by Mark Leidner

ADDENDUM: at 6pm on July 17th (or possibly a day earlier if there's already a clear sweep), I will be releasing a one-day poll that will give voters the option to sub in "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver for the winner of matchup #8: "Swan" vs. "How I Go to the Woods". this is to help correct my significant oversight when I was remembering which two Oliver poems I've seen most on tumblr, and it's the only time I'm doing this kind of thing, so don't suggest it for any other poems after this please. that said, a sincere ty to @darkcomedies for first bringing its absence to my attention! and keep an eye out for this extra poll which i am calling ROUND 1.5: A HAIL MARY (OLIVER)

[detectivebambam]

More 5'0" experiences for AFTG Fic Writers and Fanartists

5'0 and 5'3" people wear the same size tops. please. i need you to understand this. (bottoms are a different story)

our arms are very short. when Andrew and Wymack were cuffed together, Andrew's arm would've had to have been raised, unless you think Wymack was on his knees the whole time

Hands are also fairly small? If i compare my hand size to my 6 foot friends, they can curl their second knuckle over the top of my fingers

strong calf muscles from needing to stand on their tiptoes for fucking everything

they can go on fair rides y'all. read a fanfic the other day where they weren't allowed to go and, they can. most fair rides are accessible to those 4'10" and taller

i think i put this in my last one, but joint pain is REAL. idk what it is tbh but shorter people just tend to have a lot of joint pain. mine always manifests in my knees and hips. (Ibuprofen and KT Tape rep in fics PLEASE)

they do not see themselves as short, abnormal, or anything of the sort. anyone above 5'8" is considered tall to them, and if you're >6' you're just weird.

I'm writing this instead of paying attention in class so ur welcome

[speedlimit15]

Andrew bird instrumental in the back of the instacart commercial of a father teaching his ~13y/o daughter to shave her legs. she is giggling as she slides the razor across a shaving foam covered patch of her calf. he has to do this instead of grocery shopping i guess?