#Timeless Sans

[spotaus]

Timeless AU Sans and Asriel! 🫡

I was going to color them but I'm mildly afraid my roommate will come back and I am not about to try and explain... this. So, temporarily take these sketches!

With a bonus full-family wip! (I need to make Gaster smaller/thinner but y'know--)

In this au, Gaster isn't killed in the core accident, and so he's present for the major tragedies that would normally follow his death. And subsequently is able to fix some of the problems! One being Asriel's death and transformation into Flowey.

Gaster, who was working on making a monster from almost scratch (his soul was too weak to form another soul but he wanted a kid and yadda yadda), successfully created Sans. After a bit of studying Sans' growth, Gaster was practically able to revive Asriel. Asriel is older than Sans by a few years as his 'death' made him miss a few.

And during this process, Gaster also managed to rizz up Asgore by complete accident. They'd always been close, even before the war, but Asgore was to be king, and he was already betroathed to Tori at birth, so Gaster was content being by Asgore's side as a friend. Buttttttt Toriel leaving for the ruins in her grief left the door wide-open for Asgore to finally make a move on Gaster. They never officially marry, but literally everyone outside the ruins is aware that the two are together.

Asriel remembers very little of his death, but he remembers Chara, and he remembers the surface. Asgore and Gaster don't hide the fact that Asriel died from him, and one day Azzy got up the courage to ask Gaster if he could bring back Chara too. Gaster hadn't even thought about it, but he figured that without Chara's body he wouldn't be able to revive them in any meaningful way. Azzy doesn't give up hope, but he doesn't bother Gaster about it anymore.

Azzy is a gentle soul, shy and playful. He's not used to being an older sibling, and he misses his mom, but he likes his new family too. He often trips and falls, resulting in the bandaid scattered on his body, and he loves to farm just like Asgore, so he usually wears overalls.

Sans is Gaster's oldest son by magic-line. He's punny, a prankster, and the more confident between himself and Asriel. If they're out of their element, Sans is the one to forge through the path and laugh while doing it! Gaster can't get him to wear shoes ("You and Dad and Azzy don't, so why should I?" Is usually his rebuttle. No one can really argue it.) So he's usually seen only wearing socks.

Papyrus (who is only a few scribbles in Gaster's arms rn) is the youngest and doesn't really get the same chances as Sans and Azzy do as older kids, but he'll grow to be the most rambunctious of all of them. I think Papy is self-conscious when he's young (what if he's not good enough? Sans is so good at science stuff like Papa, and Asriel is a great prince like Dad, so where does that leave him?) But he ends up training in combat with Asriel before meeting Undyne and deciding he wants to be part of the royal guard! (That way he can protect his 1 hp brother and his Princely brother!) Undyne and him are quick friends.

Actually, since I'm on a role: Asriel keeps studying and learning from his dad on how to be a prince. Honestly, he likes what Sans and his Pops are up to a lot more, but he doesn't mind being Future King. (He sneaks into the lab to watch the two do their studies whenever he can.) Meanwhile Sans works with Gaster in the labs! He's a fast learner and loves the work, but everyone can see just how much more natural he is with social science. He understands the political theory Asriel tells him and Sans can dissect exactly wtf it means and why Asriel has to react the way he does. Sans still ends up being the Judge, but largely keeps his focuses to the Lab with his pops abd Alphys. And Papy is certainly Great. He ends up as co-captain of the Royal Guard. He's not quite as personable as Undyne, but he sure is committed, and has direct ties to the royal family. More often than not, when he's not doing his rounds or helping with training, he's Azzy's personal guard.

And yes, this does mean incoming 20-ish Asriel, 19-ish Sans, and 17-ish Paps designs are incoming eventually! Asgore and Gaster get to see their sons grow up!!!

[triptychcryptid]

Made these for @tinfoil-jones's Jerk Ford AU. XD It's like if the Jerk Ford Hate club gave out business cards, but you were allowed a tiny bit of customization. Jerk Ford and Anti-Ford like to frequently act/dress like regular Fords and sneak into the JFHC, so I figured they'd hand out their business cards to newbies and other Fords, which would piss off the Fords to no end. Jerk Ford would have 4 different versions of his to maximize trolling. The QR codes are scannable, but two of them are NSFW (NOT porn. A song about dicks and the other teaches you how to swear. XD) You've been warned. XD

According to Tinfoil Jones, the other Fords refuse to call Jerk Ford anything but Jerk Ford and have forgotten he actually has a dimension designation, so he just walks around with his designation on his badge and cards and whatnot, and no one sees anything amiss. XD

Oh, and the phone number says "GO 2 HELL" in calculator speak. The email is another huge troll. Basically a jab at how most of the other Fords aren't tech savvy enough to have a more updated email server.

[zucchiyeni]

For a lil project i'm having 😎🔥

Finished this in one sitting hello?!??? Soo so proud how it turns out💞

Cross belongs to Jakel95

[goranvisnjiconline]

🥱 Just a little update before going to bed!

I've added some screencaps in the Gallery today 👇

📷 Timeless S1-EP10 The Capture of Benedict Arnold (1553 Screencaps)

Click 👉 HERE for the Gallery

📷 General - Episode 4 (608 Screencaps)

Click 👉 HERE for the Gallery

📷 Leverage Season 3 EP15 - The Big Bang Job (216 Screencaps)

EP16 - The San Lorenzo Job (392 Screencaps)

Click 👉 HERE for the Gallery

I also added on the GVD Youtube, a BTS video from Leverage Season 3 - EP 15 The Big Bang Job. We See some shots of Goran from the Pool Scene!

[liliallowed]

dust would probably like try to bring Chara from the grave and say "fuk you I quit taking your job"

after like five genocides.

bro just leaves. peaces out. screw the timeline screw the world it can crash for all he cares he's going back to drink his damned ketchup...

then the world friking crashes and everything gets corrupted in code. dust is just stuck in grillby. the outside is non-existent. space is false. there is no passage of time or a sense of it...

I might call this au... timeless!

-inspured by htsan

[timelessdubs]

Back and better then ever!

[acousticloveruk]

Dragons Exist (Motion Picture Soundtrack)

Written by: Vlad & Izzy J.

Dm - C - Bb- Am- A

Verse 1

Never thought that I would make it this far;

Dust to dust, we fuss, it’s us & just another rainbow to our stars

Near yet oh so far in the distance (in the distance)

Verse 2

Forever mass a lass between the hollow hearts

I swim & sing a dream alone

League beneath a gleam of their sea

Don’t know anything outside of me

Tell me what you see when love finds me

Chorus Interlude:

Bb - Am

So much tension

(So much tension)

Did they mention

(Didn't they mention)

Chorus:

Dm- Am- C - G

Dragons exist

We don’t burn us down

We just burn out bright

You put out the lights

And make a World full of space

Trace us to our source

Here we are full force

So don’t you miss

When dragons exist 🐉 📿

Verse 3

Through a life of strife a knife cuts deep within an ancient curse

Its worth will hurt; My Earth is dirt

The places once lost

All have a cost & a flame

Shame to fame your blame it gives us all your glory

Pain it heals we fill our sorrow for a story

Beginning to the end

I am a friend

You can't tame me

Chorus Interlude:

Bb - Am

I am fiction

(So much tension)

Did I mention

(Didn't they mention)

Chorus:

Dm- Am- C - G

Dragons exist

We don’t burn us down

We just burn out bright

You put out the lights

And make a World full of space

Trace us to our source

Here we are full force

So don’t you miss

When dragons exist 🐉 📿

They want to see me fail, even in death I will prevail) (X4)

Chorus:

Dm- Am- C - G

Dragons exist

We don’t burn us down

We just burn out bright

You put out the lights

And make a World full of space

Trace us to our source

Here we are full force

So don’t you miss

When dragons exist 🐉 📿

Copyright 2024AD ℗ All Rights Reserved

[bumblingbee1]

I love how after the Green Sabre part, it really brings hindsight on how much of a snake Big Smoke was from the very beginning.

[darlingillustrations]

PRIDE is timeless

sources for photographs:

Bluebirds - Kitty Ely class of 1887 (left) and Helen Emory class of 1889, Mount Holyoke students, via vintagephoto.livejournal.com. Source for image.

Cats - Nusch Éluard and Sonia Mossé. Paris. 1935 Photographer: Man Ray. Source for image.

Chipmunks - Source for image.

Deer - Source for image.

Dogs - Source for image.

Foxes, dancing - Photograph by Thurston Hopkins, Tango in the East End, London, 1954. Source for image.

Foxes, dapper - Source for image.

Frogs - Photograph from a collection called “Hidden in the Open,” curated by Trent Kelley. Source for image.

Giraffes - “Tough Threads.” Ken Russell photographed Teddy Girls in London -1950s. Source for image.

Hedgehogs - Chuck Rowland & Harry Hay (Apr. 7, 1912 – Oct. 24, 2002), 1983. © Stephen Stewart, via @onearchives. Harry Hay was the visionary behind the queer liberation movement in the U.S. With his background in leftist politics, Hay merged the revolutionary idea of homosexuals as an “oppressed cultural minority” with the fundamentals of organizing. (verbiage by lgbt_history… read more here).

Lions - I found this image on the internet in 2017 and have not been able to relocate it since.

Octopus - Circa 1970 by Donna Gottschalk. Source for image.

Otters - Source for image.

Polar Bears - Source for image.

Rabbits, mm - Source for image.

Rabbits, ww - Source for image.

Raccoons - Photographed by Kay Tobin, circa 1977. Source for image.

Red Pandas - Mariana Romo Carmona and June Chan (b. June 6, 1956), New York City, 1988. Photo © Robert Giard Foundation. (read more about these activists here)

Seagulls - Source for image.

Skunks - Photograph from the etsy shop The Vintage Image Boutique.

Sloths - Castro Street Fair, San Francisco, California, August 17, 1980. Photo © Paul Fusco. (read more about this street fair here)

Snow Leopards - Gay Pride Day, NYC 1980 / © Stanley Stellar.

The Affectionate Animal series is a project I have worked on for years, illustrating vintage photographs of queer couples. All paintings are by me, Erin Darling. Here is a link to the series on my site.

[metamatar]

In 2005, the tellingly named studio After Stone wall Productions released a film titled Dangerous Living: Coming Out in the Developing World. Featuring interviews with various LGBT activists from different countries outside the West, spliced up and lumped together haphazardly, the film delivers the following overarching messages: that it is not safe to be queer in the "developing world," that what queer spaces do exist in the "developing world" are to be found in certain metropolises: Cairo, Kuala Lumpur, Calcutta, Rio de Janeiro—and that these sites trace their genealogy to the Stonewall riots. Furthermore, according to the film, queerness/gayness and sometimes transness (when it is acknowledged) were invented in the West. Epistemic breaking points such as the Stone wall riots and canonized locales such as San Francisco and Greenwich Village are the originating points of this innovation against the backdrop of a timeless, pervasive heterosexism. This cosmopolitan gayness/queerness then "spreads" from the metropole to the periphery, forming a web from city to city This coincides with Jack Halberstam's (excruciatingly white) analysis in his book In a Queer Time and Place: the idea of "metronorma tivity" that "the rural is made to function as a closet for urban sexualities in most accounts of rural queer migration" and that "the metronormative narrative maps a story of migration onto the coming-out narrative" (2005, 36-37). We can extend Halberstam's analysis further and see the ways that the closet/rural/(post)colony as well as out/urban/metropole get col lapsed onto each other—the queer is always pulled closer to the heart of capital.

The overarching savior narrative occurs towards the end of the film, when each interviewee, in clips spliced together, tells his or her story of emigrating to the West. After a particularly heart-wrenching story of Ashraf Zanati's departure from Egypt, the narrator comments that "Ashraf Zanati left Egypt. Ashraf had become part of a planetary minority." Although the film purports to care about the status of queers in the "developing world," it actually forms a wounded attachment that fetishizes displacement and bifurcates the queer from his or her society. This narration of non-Western countries as inherently unsafe for queer subjects produces the very displacement it describes, in a manner similar to the ways nine teenthcentury colonial archaeology laid the foundations for Zionism and the dispossession of Arab Jews. Writing about the European "discovery" and destruction of the Cairo Geniza—a building that had housed pieces of paper documenting centuries of jewish Egyptian history—Shohat (2006) shows us that the discursive/ archival dislocation of Egyptian Jews by the forces of European/Ashkenazi colonialism anticipated the later dislocation of Egyptian Jews. This dislocation would form part of the backbone of Zionist historiography's production of a "morbidly selective 'tracing the dots' from pogrom to pogrom." The fetishization of queer displacement, as projected by Dangerous Living, performs a similar historical flip to the one Shohat documents: "If at the time of the 'Geniza discovery' Egyptian Jews were still seen as part of the colonized Arab world, with the partition of Palestine, Arab-Jews, in a historical shift, suddenly became simply 'Jews'" (Shohat 2006, 205). Through various colonial practices, there was a discursive bifurcation between the "Arab" and the "Jew"; in the case of case of Dangerous Living there is a similar bifurcation between the "Egyptian" and the "Queer."

Papantonopoulou, Saffo. “‘Even a Freak Like You Would Be Safe in Tel Aviv’: Transgender Subjects, Wounded Attachments, and the Zionist Economy of Gratitude.” Women’s Studies Quarterly, vol. 42, no. 1/2, 2014, pp. 278–93. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24364930. Accessed 11 Nov. 2024.

[spotaus]

I am begging on my knees that Tumblr posts this. It has no audio but I cannot send it from my computer to phone and I want it archived lmao-

[yokohamapound]

ok but like consider,, dazai, akutagawa, kunikida and atsushi (or anyone else u wanna add my request is mainly for akutagawa and kunikida) working alone and you open your coat to reveal you're just wearing lingerie underneath <3

Ah, such a classic move! <3

Characters: Kunikida Doppo, Dazai Osamu, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Nakajima Atsushi, Nakahara Chuuya

Contents: gn!reader, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, mild derogatory dirty talk

Kunikida Doppo

Kunikida is often to be found working late in the Armed Detective Agency’s office, especially after the conclusion of a case. Or if Dazai has been especially a pain in the ass that day and prevented Kunikida from keeping to his packed work schedule. Kunikida is not the type of man who’ll let the day’s work slip over to tomorrow. That’s how nations start to crumble (according to him). 

Hours after the rest of the agency have gone home, even Fukuzawa, Kunikida is still there, typing away at his laptop, the glare of the screen making his glasses seem opaque. His only concession to the late hour is a half-drunk cup of coffee sitting beside the laptop. 

His head twists around when the door to the agency office opens. Who could it be this late at night? Atsushi coming to check up on him? Dazai coming to sleep on the couch again? He tenses when he sees the tan colour of a trenchcoat through the wavy glass of the office door, but his shoulders loosen when he sees you in the doorway. 

“What are you doing here so late?” he asks you, turning back to finish that last bit of paperwork. “And what’s with the coat? You’re not trying to dress like Dazai now, are you?”

He hopes not. Kunikida doesn’t need to be jump-scared like that every time you meet up with him. He’s only half-listening when you give him some excuse about being cold. Faintly, he picks up the sound of high heels clicking against the polished floorboards as you make your way over to him. He catches a hint of perfume as you come to stand at his shoulder. 

“I’m almost finished,” he grunts, his fingers flying so fast across the keyboard they seem to blur slightly at the edges. He’s tired, and it must be late indeed if you’ve come to pick him up. He turns his head to ask about what you two should pick up for dinner on the way home, when his jaw falls open like someone pulled out a screw holding it shut.

You’ve allowed your trenchcoat to fall open, revealing your body clad in scraps of structured silk and lace. Something classy and timeless, in soft cream or sultry black. It’s like something out of an old movie or a vintage catalogue. Kunikida’s glasses steam up briefly, before he slams his laptop closed.

“Doppo,” you chide, faking a gasp. “You didn’t put a period on that last sentence of your paperwork. You can’t just leave it…unfinished like that.”

Kunikida pulls off his glasses, his expression stern. “This time,” he proclaims, his voice deep and momentous, “I’ll make an exception.”

Kunikida drives you home, driving so close to the speed limit he’s practically edging it, with one hand buried firmly between your thighs. If you’re very misbehaved, he might use his notebook to conjure something to keep you…occupied…on the drive home.

Dazai Osamu

You went one better for this and stole Dazai’s trenchcoat. Let’s leave it up for debate whether he knew what you were up to and let you steal his coat to pull off your little performance—it’s more fun that way. 

Because it’s Dazai, you arrange to meet at a bar for a date. Preferably one where he’s not already run up a tab or been slapped by all of the female bartenders and waiting staff. There are a few of those left in Yokohama, you just have to look really hard for them. 

When you arrive, Dazai is sitting on a barstool, one foot propped on the footrest, his elbows on the bar. He’s sans trenchcoat, dressed in his dark waistcoat, with the sleeves of his blue pinstripe shirt rolled up to his mid-forearm, revealing the bandages wrapped around his wrists. Spotting you in the reflection of the bottles behind the bar, he glances over at you. Dazai’s dark eyes sweep over you from head to toe, and he immediately knows there’s something interesting going on beneath that trenchcoat.

“You know,” he drawls. “I lost a coat just like that this morning. It’s quite the startling coincidence, don’t you think?”

He's so intrigued that he even cracks open his wallet to buy you a drink (shocking, I know). Dazai's eyes are glued to the sight of you cinched into his coat. His eyes drop down when you sit on the barstool beside him, crossing your legs. His fingers tighten around the cut crystal of his glass. 

"Is that...lace?"

At your smug confirmation that is indeed lace, Dazai knocks back his drink. No time to savour the liquor. He pinches the hem of the trenchcoat and lifts it up a little further to see the stocking clinging to your thigh. 

Dazai's eyes glint dangerously in the dim overhead lights of the bar. 

"Bella." His voice is a lusty purr as his hand runs up your thigh, fingers plucking at the top of your stocking, tracing circles into your soft flesh. "I'll give you a thirty second head start. When I catch up to you..."

I hope you can find somewhere relatively private in the next thirty seconds. 

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

If you thought it might be a good idea to copy the move above and wear Akutagawa’s trenchcoat over your lingerie, let me gently pry that idea from your eager little hands. It is not a good idea, and it will not end well. Just get your own trenchcoat. Maybe in a nice shade of camel?

Akutagawa waits impatiently for you in the middle of town, watching the civilians amble around between stores, his eyes narrowed in irritation. He doesn't know why you asked to meet him here, but it feels like a waste of his time. He decides he will wait only five more minutes before he leaves.

A flicker of something pale from the corner of his eye. It's a Pavlovian response—Akutagawa's head whips around. Instead of his former master, he instead spots you click-clacking toward him in a pair of heels, wrapped in a light trenchcoat. Hair? Done. Make-up? Flawless. 

Akutagawa's forehead furrows, his voice pitched low with annoyance and confusion. "Why are you wearing that?"

You're used to his pricky demeanour by now and it doesn't faze you. You turn so you are facing away from the crowds, slowly untying the belt. You peel open the front of the waistcoat enough to give Akutagawa a glimpse of what lies underneath. 

Black lace. Smooth skin. Silk. 

His throat tightens, and for once it doesn't signal the onset of a coughing fit. Akutagawa's eyes widen, his teeth and fists clenching.

"What in the hells are you wearing?" he demands.

"Lingerie," you say, retying the the belt of your trenchcoat. "Don't you like it?"

Akutagawa knows every alley and alcove of Yokohama. Every blind spot and dead end. He puts this knowledge to good use as he manhandles you into the nearest semi-private spot. Bands of Rashoumon wrap around your wrists and ankles, pinning you up against the alleyway wall. 

Akutagawa's pale hands tremble with suppressed excitement as he unties the trenchcoat and peels it open again. The sight of you, dressed in such a lewd fashion and bound, makes his cock harden fast enough to make him dizzy. His voice is low, curt.

"If you insist on dressing like a harlot, I shall treat you like one. After all, that is what you wanted, is it not? My attention."

Please don't worry about making any noise. He'll simply use Rashoumon to gag you. <3

Nakajima Atsushi

Oh dear, are you trying to give the poor boy a heart attack?

Atsushi is at the Armed Detective Agency office alone. Perhaps it's lunchtime and the rest of the agents and staff have retired downstairs for coffee and lunch at Cafe Uzumaki. Atsushi needs to finish his report, or he's flat broke and doesn't want to have to mooch of Kunikida in the cafe again, so he's eating some cold rice balls at his desk.

He sputters on a mouthful of onigiri when the door swings open, popping up like a daisy from his desk, expecting it to be a client. He sags in relief when he sees it is just you, hastily brushing some grains of rice from the front of his shirt.

“Hi!”

Oh, he’s so chirpy to see you. It really is adorable. Look at how the smile blossoms on his face. There are practically sparkles coming off him as he heads toward you. 

Only for Atsushi to stop in his tracks when you casually untie the front of your coat and flash him the sight of your body in sweet, pink-and-white lingerie. You’re frosted in lace and frills like a little cupcake, and Atsushi’s brain jams like the printer.

“H-buh? Whuh? You…you…”

His face burns crimson, standing out stark against his white hair, and he whips his head around to make sure there is no one else in the office, even though he’s relatively sure he’s alone. Atsushi grabs the front of your coat and covers you up, flushing when you laugh at his embarrassment.

“What are you wearing?” he hisses, his eyes wide as saucers. “Why are you wearing it here?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise~”

“It is,” he stammers. “It’s very…it’s so nice.” He opens the coat a little, peeking at what lies beneath, before closing it again, his ears burning. “But…but not here. Maybe at home?”

You give an airy shrug. “Perhaps you can tell Kunikida you weren’t feeling well so you had to go home early?”

Smash cut to Atsushi fake-coughing down the phone to Kunikida. 

Nakahara Chuuya

It's late. Yokohama is a glittering sprawl beneath the windows of Chuuya's plush office. The office is dim, save for the light of his laptop screen and the recessed, moody red lighting of his shelves. He eases away from his emails, rubbing at his eyes, and crosses the room to pour himself a whiskey from the cut glass decanters. 

For Chuuya, 'working late' often involves taking a few heavies and going to threaten someone, not sitting and trawling through emails, but now and then he needs to engage with the corporate bullshit that comes with being an executive. 

The buzz of his personal phone draws his attention. He scoops it up, his thumb tapping the screen. He has his gloves made custom so they work with touchscreens. A text message from you pops open and he grins, leaning against the edge of his desk. 

The image is simple, but evocative. Smooth skin under red lace. He's not even entirely sure which body part it is, but it's tantalising all the same. He's sure he'll find out after your dinner reservation that evening. Steak, of course.

A knock sounds at his office door and he lets out an annoyed grunt, immediately locking his phone and laying it facedown on his desk. 

"Yeah, come in."

His annoyance evaporates the moment you saunter in, all high heels and cinched black trenchcoat. And damn, is that red lipstick? It is. 

"Hey, doll. Whatcha doin' here?" 

He's running his gaze over that trenchcoat, trying to imagine what you're wearing underneath. His smile widens into a full-blown grin when you turn and lock the door behind you. 

"Don't know where this is comin' from, but I like where it's goin'."

You make a show of it, untying the knot on the belt, letting the smooth fabric rasp as it slides against itself. First baring one shoulder, then the next, shimmying the coat off you like its a fur stole. It crumples to the ground, leaving you in all your glory.

Chuuya drags a hand down his face, letting out a low, ragged laugh that sounds just this side of feral.

"Fuck, dollface..."

Bro launches himself at you, pushing you up against the back of his office door. His gloved hands slide over your bare skin, gravity starting to make less and less of an impression on you as he floats you. His mouth crushes against yours. 

Unfortunately, you miss your dinner reservation by several hours. 

[austinbutlerslovers]

Edge Of Desire

Label Mature 18+

Summary Arriving late and waiting for Austin after his film festival, his new look has you pining for him unable to keep your desires at bay. 🚨 Depraved Smut 🚨 cocky Austin• pining for Austin• dirty talk • name calling •simping for Austin• edging •teasing • taunting •fetishism • overstimulation • multiple orgasm denials• insane oral on fem• skull riding?• just the tip • clit play • over indulgence • cock denial • cock warming • size kink• multiple orgasms in a row 🔗Masterlist

💭 ✨ Inspo via @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal we’re insane for this 🥵

Edge of Desire

The view from the hotel room is breathtaking. Perched high above the bustling streets of San Francisco, the windows frame a glittering panorama of the city, with the Bay Bridge stretching across the dark waters, its lights twinkling like a string of stars.

The room has a rustic charm—a vintage feel with art deco details, plush velvet furniture, and warm golden light spilling from ornate sconces. It feels both luxurious and intimate, with a hint of faded glamour that makes it timeless.

You arrived an hour ago, much later than planned thanks to a delayed flight, and by the time you landed, Austin’s film festival was already well underway.

You were supposed to be in attendance as his date for the special event, and the delay frustrated you at first. But now that you’ve arrived, the quiet luxury of the hotel begins to ease your tension, and all that’s left is to wait for his return.

The suite is perfectly neat, except for your suitcase, left open on the chair where you unpacked. You strip out of your travel clothing and head straight to the bathroom, the promise of a hot shower too tempting to resist.

As the warm water cascades over your skin, the tension of the day melts away, the stress of delayed flights and missed plans fading with each passing moment. By the time you step out, wrapped in one of the hotel’s plush robes, you feel lighter, the comfort of the space beginning to settle over you.

You pour yourself a generous glass of wine from the welcome basket, the warm aroma comforting as you walk to the window.

The glittering city lights stretch out before you, and the Bay Bridge glows softly in the distance, its reflection shimmering across the dark water. Settling into the armchair by the window, you tuck your legs under yourself and sip your wine, letting the stunning view and the quiet elegance of the suite soothe your restless energy.

A soft buzz from your phone pulls your attention away. It’s Austin—he’s just finished at the festival and will be there soon. A smile spreads across your face as you read his text, your heart swelling with love.

You can’t help but think about how much he means to you, how deeply you crave him. The anticipation of seeing him again makes your pulse quicken, and you pour another glass of wine, savoring the moment as you wait for him to walk through the door.

Mesmerized by the view of the city you don’t even hear the door open. It’s only when Austin steps into the entryway, his presence filling the space, that you turn, and the sight of him steals your breath away.

He’s wearing a tailored black suit from the film festival, the sharp lines hugging his lean, powerful frame in all the right ways.

His tie is slightly loosened, and the buzz cut, which you’ve been obsessing over since he got it, now adds a raw, commanding edge to his elegance that makes your knees weak.

“Hey, baby,” he greets, his voice smooth as silk as his eyes meet yours. There’s a playful, confident glint in them that instantly makes you feel undone, your pulse racing as he steps closer.

Without hesitation, he leans down pressing a soft kiss to your lips—just deep enough to leave you aching for more the moment he pulls away.

He steps back slightly, his smirk deepening as his hands move to undo his cufflinks. The way his fingers work carefully over each button is so seductive you can’t help but rake your gaze over him shamelessly.

“Austin…” You manage your voice barely above a whisper,

“Hmm?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, his smile deepening as he takes his time removing his watch and setting it carefully on the dresser.

You’re already trembling, opening your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Your thoughts are scrambled, completely overridden by the presence of him.

“Austin, you look… I can’t—I can’t think. You look too good. It’s driving me crazy.”

His smirk widens as he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it casually over the back of the chair. “Driving you crazy, huh?” he says, loosening his tie with skilled hands, the silk sliding through his fingers so sensually it makes your breath catch as you watch him.

“You’re already such a mess, and I haven’t even touched you yet,” he teases, his grin widening as his eyes lock onto yours, and the way he stands commanding and effortlessly masculine as he unbuttons the collar of his white dress shirt has you swooning.

“I can’t help it,” you admit, your voice trembling as you stand shakily, the wine amplifying the heat already burning through your body. “Looking at you like this… I want you so much Austin.” you softly confess.

He raises an eyebrow as he smirks, clearly relishing the desperation in your voice. “You’re not even gonna make me work for it tonight?” he asks, stepping closer.

His presence is overwhelming, his eyes raking over you as his fingers brush under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You’re just gonna beg me like that?” He grins his voice gently taunting.

“Yes,” you whimper, your voice trembling. “Please, Austin.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as his smirk turns darker. “You’re completely desperate for me,” he whispers, leaning in until his lips brush your ear. “You’re lucky I find that so fucking hot.”

Your hands instinctively move to his chest, to feel him, to pull him closer, but he catches your wrists easily. “Mm mn,” he hums, his tone low and commanding.

“If you want something from me tonight, you’re going to ask nicely,” he confirms, his voice a smooth, teasing challenge.

“Use your words” he encourages as he inches closer, his height towering over you, “Let me hear how much you want me” he urges as the warmth of his proximity making your breath catch.

He leaves no room for hesitation as his hand moves to hold your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze as he awaits your response.

You whimper, your voice breaking as your body presses against his. “Please. I need you, Austin… I need your mouth on me so much,” you plead, the mere thought sending a thrill through you.

He tilts his head, considering you with a smirk that’s both teasing and dangerous. “My mouth, huh?” he murmurs, his tone dripping with seductive amusement, his gaze raking over you like he owns you. “Lay down for me,” he says, his eyes dark with intent, his voice smooth and commanding. “I want to see you earn it.”

The way he speaks to you and the way his eyes linger on you, make your pulse race, and you rush to lay on the bed, your body trembling with anticipation as he follows.

The heat in your core twists tighter as he pushes you down, holding you firmly beneath him. His presence is overwhelming, all controlled strength and confidence as his knee nudges between your thighs, pressing just enough to make you gasp.

“You want to earn my mouth?” he asks, his lips curving into a wicked grin, his gaze holding yours with unrelenting intensity. “Beg for me,” he commands, his voice a smooth, teasing dominance. “Show me how desperate you are for it.”

“Austin, please,” you whimper your hips instinctively rolling against his leg. “I need you. I need your mouth. Please, I’m begging you.”

His eyes darken, and his smirk turns dangerous. “You’re so cute when you beg,” he teases, leaning in to brush his lips over yours without letting you kiss. “Pathetic, but so cute”

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and arousal, and you buck your hips against his thigh harder, earning a low chuckle. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, pressing your hips back into the bed. “You’ll get what you need when I’m ready to give it.”

With that he lowers down your body, his hands pushing your robe apart with agonizing slowness as he settles between your thighs. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight,” he teases, his lips grazing your thigh.

He doesn’t bother removing the rest of his suit and the stark contrast of his sharp white dress shirt against your soft inner thighs is enough to drive you insane.

His mouth finds your pussy, and your back arches off the bed as he works you over with a precision that has you sobbing his name. His lips and tongue move in a way that’s both merciless and excruciatingly teasing, keeping you teetering on the edge.

Your hands find his head, your nails lightly scratching against his scalp as you moan uncontrollably, the sensations driving you to the brink and before you realize it, your hips buck forward, pushing his head down too far.

The moment your body meets the coarse texture of his buzz cut, a shudder wracks through you. The contrast is intoxicating—the smooth heat of your skin against the short, sharpness of his hair sends a jolt of sensation coursing through you, leaving you breathless.

In a haze of pleasure you instinctively hold his head down, rolling your hips against the hard contour of his skull, the friction sending a lightning bolt of pleasure through you.

The intensity is thrilling as you grind against his head until he groans fighting back, his hands tightening on your thighs. With a firm grip, he pulls back just enough to regain control, glancing up at you, his eyes blazing with a mix of curiosity and desire.

“You wanted to just use me like that?” he asks, his gaze sharpening, his voice filled with amusement and dominance as he sits up slowly, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“I didn’t mean to,” you gasp, your voice trembling as your body quivers beneath him.

He shrugs the dress shirt off his broad shoulders, revealing the hard lines of his torso as he uses it to wipe his head clean before tossing it aside.

His smirk turns dangerous as he places a hand on either side of your hips, leaning over you ready to extract revenge.

“You didn’t mean to?” he repeats, his tone dripping with mock disbelief. “You didn’t mean to keep grinding against my head like that —holding me down like that? Don’t lie to me, baby—I felt how much you liked that you almost came.”

You flush, your words failing you as he leans down, his breath warm against your inner thighs. “Since you couldn’t stop,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “I won’t stop what I’m about to do either.”

Without hesitation, he dives in, his lips and tongue working you over mercilessly, driving you higher and higher until you can barely think.

Your thighs tremble uncontrollably as his fingers dig into your hips, keeping you exactly where he wants you. The overwhelming pressure builds until you’re about to come, the sounds of your pleasure spilling from your lips in broken sobs.

“Austin… please—don’t stop,” you cry, your body shaking as his grip tightens devouring you without mercy, leaving you helpless beneath him.

When he pulls back denying your orgasm you whine in desperation, but it turns into a sharp gasp as his fingers pinch your clit, rolling it tightly between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure crashing through your body. Then he flicks it with just enough pressure to make your thighs shake around him.

“Did you think I was going to let you come after pulling a stunt like that?” he asks, his tone low and edged with mock amusement.

You gasp beneath him, caught between a desperate need to orgasm and an insatiable need for more.

His smirk deepens, his control undeniable, and his free hand moves with precision to unbutton and lower the zipper of his dress pants, his eyes never leaving yours, holding you captive in his gaze.

“Look at you,” he taunts, his thumb pressing against your clit, circling slowly as you writhe beneath him. “So desperate to come, so needy… you were literally fucking my buzz cut, and you loved it , didn’t you?

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice trembling. “Yes, I loved it. Austin—please.”

“Yeah?” he repeats with a taunting edge , leaning down to replace his fingers with his mouth again. His tongue moves with maddening precision over your clit as he slides his fingers into you, thrusting with purpose, stretching you just enough to make you cry out.

Your pleasure rises to an unbearable peak, and just as you begin to orgasm again, he quickly pulls away, sitting back on his heels as you writhe beneath him aching desperately for release. His hand slides up your trembling thigh, flicking your clit one last time, drawing a sharp, breathless cry from your lips.

“You’re not done begging yet,” he reveals, his voice low and commanding as his hands lower the waistband of his dress pants. With deliberate slowness, he slides them down over his muscular thighs, letting the fabric glide over his legs.

His cock rises, thick and firm, the sight making your breath catch. He wraps his hand around it, stroking it firmly, running his palm over the sensitive tip before gliding down the length with a practiced ease that makes your cheeks flush.

“Beg me for what you need ,” he says, his tone laced with quiet dominance, his eyes locking onto yours as he continues to stroke his cock, waiting for you to respond.

“I n-need…” you hesitate, the words catching in your throat, your body trembling.

“Spit it out,” he commands, his tone firm as he brushes his knuckles against your pussy. You gasp your thighs clenching and his smirk deepens and he watches you struggle, clearly reveling in your helplessness. “You’re so cock drunk you can’t even think straight, can you? He taunts.

“Austin,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you writhe beneath him. “Please…. I need you. I need you so bad, I’ll do anything. Please I need your cock.”

He laughs softly, shaking his head as he leans in closer, “So cute when you beg ,” he whispers, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear, “Let’s see how long you can last.”

Your breath hitches as he shifts, positioning himself between your trembling thighs. His hand presses firmly against your hip, holding you steady as he drags the blunt tip of his cock along your slick entrance, the slow, teasing strokes spreading your wetness.

“Austin—,” you whimper, your voice breaking into a desperate moan. Your hips jerk involuntarily, chasing him to push in, but his strong hand grips your hip, pinning you down with ease.

His smirk is devastating as he watches your body tremble beneath him, the tip of him pressing against you but denying you more. “Is this all it takes to ruin you?” he taunts, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

You can’t stop the pathetic little movements of your hips, your body instinctively seeking what he refuses to give. The friction is maddening, every slight nudge of his cock making you whimper in desperation, the sounds only deepening the wicked satisfaction in his gaze.

“Please,” you cry out, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close—I can’t take it.”

He presses the tip inside, just enough to stretch you, his eyes locking on your face as he takes in every shudder, every gasp spilling from your lips.

“You’re already trembling, baby,” he coos, his voice a mix of teasing and dominance. “Are you really about to come just from the tip?”

You let out a strangled moan, your body clenching involuntarily as the overwhelming sensation courses through you. “Yes—oh my god—yes!” you cry, your nails digging into the sheets as your body arches toward him, desperate for more.

He chuckles darkly, leaning down as he grips your jaw, his fingers squishing your cheeks to make your lips pucker. “You’re so cute and pathetic,” he teases, his voice filled with wicked satisfaction as he releases your face. “I haven’t even given you half of me, and you’re already falling apart. Should I stop?”

“No!” you practically scream, your hands clawing at his shoulders, your body arching beneath him. “Don’t stop—please, Austin, I’m begging you.”

He thrusts in deeper dragging his cock along your tight walls as a loud moan escapes from your lips. His smirk widening as he watches you unravel, the pleasure in his voice unmistakable as he taunts you. “You can’t even handle it, can you? You’re going to come, aren’t you? And I’m not even completely in.”

“Yes,” you sob, the pressure building beyond anything you can control. “I’m going to come—I can’t—I’m—oh god—”

Before you can finish, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself fully inside you, and you shatter. Your body convulses as the pleasure rips through you, the sounds spilling from your lips in a mix of desperate cries and gasping moans.

He groans, his voice dripping with pride as he moves his cock thrusting in and out just enough to keep your orgasm rolling.

Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your body overstimulated and quivering, but his grip on your hips tightens as he continues, driving into you with unrelenting determination. “You’re not done yet,” he rasps, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Austin,” you gasp, your voice a mix of pleasure and desperation, your nails digging into his shoulders. “I— can’t, I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” he coos, his tone firm and commanding, his hips snapping harder as he forces you to ride his cock again. “You think I’m stopping just because you came?”

Your eyes meet his, filled with despair, but he doesn’t relent. Even though you’re trembling, barely holding on, your body responds, the pleasure rising again, dragging you into another overwhelming orgasm that leaves you sobbing his name as he pushes you past your limit.

You move instinctively, your hips rolling against him, the friction sending a lightning bolt of pleasure shooting through your body.

Your hands brace against the headboard, your body trembling as your cries grow louder. “Austin, oh my god—”

“Take it,” he groans, his grip on your thighs tightening as he holds you firmly in place,“Take this cock you begged for “ he urges his voice rough with desire.

His hips snap harder, driving into you with a force that has the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room. The intensity has you crying out, your hands gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles turn white.

You moan uncontrollably as the depth of his thrusts has you feeling him in your gut, every movement so perfectly relentless it’s overwhelming. Your moans turn into incoherent sounds, high-pitched gasps and guttural cries as the pleasure consumes you.

The pressure against your most sensitive spots is too much. You can’t control the way your hips buck, chasing the overwhelming sensation. Each movement sends shockwaves through your body, your thighs quivering as you lose all sense of control.

“You’re coming again already?” he mocks, his tone laced with amusement and pride. “Couldn’t even last a minute, could you?” He taunts, his words only pushing you closer to the edge, and within seconds, your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing as you cry out his name.

The intensity of it blinds you, your legs trembling uncontrollably as you slump back, your mind completely gone.

You try to catch your breath as your body trembles, feeling his confident hand slide between your legs again. His fingers glide over your clit with a teasing pressure that makes you clench around his hard cock still buried deep inside you.

“You love every second of this, don’t you?” he grins, his eyes never leaving yours, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and trembling. “I love it, Austin.”

“Good,” he whispers, his hands pinning your wrists firmly above your head as he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. “Let’s see how many times I can make you come tonight.”

🫦END

🔗 Masterlist

🏷️ Always Tag Me List

@purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @austinbutlerfly @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @lindszeppelin @abswifey @aust-een @umika @feralgodmothers @psycheetamore @megangovier @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @faegoddessog @jessica987 @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @finley-08 @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @lovereadingfanfic @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @thejoywillburnoutthepain @i5uckersblog @ughdontbeboring @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @12joeywheelerfangirl @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @missjadesficsreblog @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya @jjubilee-fluff @stars-remain2 @ausssbutlershortstories @fuckindontknow

[goranvisnjiconline]

Goran @ The San Diego Comic Con, July 20th 2017

He's got Teacher Vibes on this 🤣

HD size pictures available on the Gallery section as always :)

[astroyongie]

How does it feel to be loved by ateez???

How Does It Feels To Be Loved by Ateez

Hongjoong

His love feels like a tether to something beyond, a pull toward redemption and the promise of ascension. His love feels like watching you rise under a strange passion, weighted with the same longing you feel to be free, to transcend, to leave behind the chains of this world. you want the same things, yet Hongjoong's love gives you the contrary of what you this you want. His love makes you yearn to vanish, to dissolve into the ether where neither of you can hold or hurt the other. His love takes what it needs, leaving only the echo of your shared desire, a fleeting mark in the void you both crave to escape.

Seonghwa

His love feels like a quiet, unspoken guardianship, a tenderness born in the shadows. his love raises you in the dark, shielding you as best he could, even as you caught glimpses of his light breaking through. you see his potential love how it carries despite the weight of the world. your heart would ached as you try to hold back the darkness his love somehow provides, to protect yourself from it, even when you know he couldn’t shield you forever. hist love alone might not be enough to save you.

Mingi

His love feels like finding shelter in the shadows, a home carved out of the darkness he carries. He would see you most clearly when you are alone, your raw edges unguarded, and you know every step that led you here. Mingi's love is the sharp intake of breath, the ache of wanting to know him deeper, to understand the parts he hides. If he chooses to give, you would be able to take all he has, all his darkest impulses, all his fears and desires. you would hold them close, not to fix them, but to feel the weight of his truth. If he gives you love, let it be the surrender of himself, let him give in again.

Yunho

His love feels timeless, a thread woven through past lives and future dreams, binding you across the ages. Yunho's love speaks as if he knew you before, as if your future was etched into the contours of his fantasy. In his voice is an invitation, a plea to dance in the dark, where shadows become sanctuaries of love. He offers a blacklit paradise, a world glowing with forbidden beauty, where every step with him feels like passion, and every moment is a promise of etern love wrapped in night. Yunho's love is mysterious and deep.

San

His love feels like a mirror, a distortion of who you are to fit the shape of his desires and it can be quite scary. he sees in you the reflection he craves, someone to echo his pain, his deception, someone to shoulder the burden he won’t carry. His love is to set you free by taking pieces of you, carving out what he needs until there’s nothing left. His love is fleeting, a thief in the night, leaving behind the hollow ache of his absence. he knows what he wants, and you give it to him, even knowing he’ll take it all and leave you behind.

Wooyoung

His love feels like standing at the edge of chaos, where wrath and desire collide in a storm of love. In the heat of it, there’s no boundary between passion and destruction for wooyoung, no line left uncrossed. The thought of his love burns, sharp as a hollow point against fragile skin, each word a promise to unravel everything. His love is capable of pain at the core of pleasure. His love is violent, raw, and unrelenting, leaving nothing but ashes and the haunting pull to dive back in.

Yeosang

His love feels like unraveling the universe thread by thread. you would crave him, not just in touches, but in the depths of his essence, you would want to taste him better, to know him in ways no one else can. his devotion sharpens into lust, a silent warning that his love faces you even when he dares to harm you. Even in the quiet, he would reach for the proof of you, aching to feel your presence in the vast expanse of everything. you would want to know he’s out there, burning as fiercely as you burn for him.

Jungho

His love feels like a garden untamed, a sacred space where beauty and wildness intertwine. His love is the silence on distant, a calm that follows storms. but his love also glitters with danger and allure, and you would yearn for the bite, even just once to feel the sharp edge of his love. he would offer himself willingly, a gift laid at your feet, a sacrifice in your name, knowing the cost. He has a taste for this, for the fragility of devotion, and you need to be ready to be consumed by him, piece by piece.