#WEAK IN THE KNEES FOR THIS MAN

[antomatkoen]

cheeky bastard soap at it again 🙄

[scullcrusher101xd]

if you had one shot, one opportunity to take a nap. To sieze everything you ever wanted in one moment. Would you capture it or just let it slip?

[s1ck-pupp3t]

I love, Ms Paint. CHEERS!

OK real art dump over. Click MORE for Real dumb stuff

something something They faces killing me why nobody gaf. Its a Transparent .PNg! You can put them any where to Not Care About.

[miguelspriscilla]

I need this man so bad y’all don’t understand😩🙁🙏

Y’ALL HOW ARE WE DOING??????

[0bticeo]

alastor | your cracks are showing.

picture this, if you will.

you, having had enough of his antics, finally snapping, telling him you see through him. his mask, that too-wide smile, is imperfect.

"your cracks are showing, alastor."

you spit his name like a curse and he feels his gut twist with something foreign. there you are, you, defiant, arms crossed over your chest, denying him his precious persona.

who the hell do you think you are?

before you know it, his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you to him, until you meet the hard planes of his chest. he's all lean muscles you find out, writhing against him, trying to break free.

he tilts your head back with one gloved hand. the leather is thin enough for you to feel the warmth of him. if you shiver, lips parting, you'll deny it.

"careful, my dear."

with that, he kisses you, sickeningly sweet. too sweet. too much. your eyes widen at the feeling of his lips against yours, of his teeth nipping against your flesh. you taste blood. fucker bit you -

he growls, the sound rich and deep, sinking into your marrow like he does in your mouth, tasting you. you find yourself clinging to him, fingers tangling in his curls, lightly tugging at his scalp.

he lets you go, tongue darting to lick the remnants of your lifeblood on his lips. he chuckles at the sight of you - kiss-swollen, panting, pupils blown wide in furious desire.

his thumb presses against your lower lip, right where he bit you. you hiss, sweet pain settling low in your gut.

"you'll cut yourself on my edges if you get too close."

somehow, you don't mind.

[jesschalamet]

i bet we’d have really good bed chem

[liquidloz]

✨Michael Keaton thirst✨

[hooned]

SIR 😃 (u are so gorgeous OH)

[megamindsecretlair]

Girl you saw Aaron kissing on that white woman?

I hate to say it but that British black man with sum blue eyes like em PALE. (Of course I am saying this purely in suspicion)

Yeah, I seent it. So? Lmfao. Sorry. Ik folks are pressed but I simply don't understand the need to find something bad about this man?

We have so very few (practically nonexistent) Black men that we can love on in public. He's smart, sweet, talented, precious, a goofball, a nerd, and introvert, and has been nothing but precious around Black women. He practically lights up around us.

Why is it so hard to believe that he's just....a good guy? Because we have proof that he liked ONE yt? Dont they all?

But what really gets me is that folks think he's not capable of liking a yt AND a Black woman 🤔 like he has to be on one camp or the other.

And this is purely MY opinion. I'm not shaming anyone for caring. I understand. Its so beyond exhausting to feel like we're not wanted by our own counterparts. That they continually play in our faces and we love them anyway.

But until I actually see that he move funny around us, I just wanna love on him. I love that hes goofy and silly. I love that he can't dance. I love that he can sing and rap (though British rap is asssss, sorry Aaron daddy 🥲). I love that hes an introvert. I love hearing him say "opportunity, for me personally, legacy, honored, brother, bruv" and whatever else fly outta that beautiful mouth of his.

I love that hes "lightskinned". I love that I get to see him in Lanterns next year, however I can have him. Because I know Gunn will piss me smooth awf 🙄 I love that hes 6'3. I love that he works out. I love that he has tattoos. I love his big ass hands and that ass 🙌🏽 (that ass really needs to be worshipped)

I love that he dresses extremely well and couldn't pose for shit earlier in his career 🤣) I love that hes into the superhero genre as a whole (especially when everyone acts like it needs to go. Don't like it, don't watch. But don't ruin it for others who do like it).

I love that he shares a close bond with his family. I love how he lights up when he's comfortable. I love when he's in his feelings 🙌🏽🤪🥵 I love when he posts subtle thirst traps.

I love the Kelvin tiktok of him throwing his head back and laughing. I love that he can laugh about himself. I love his funny little laugh.

I love when he wears long sleeves. I love when he wears short sleeves. I love when he's tanned. I love when the camera makes him look pale as hell. I love when he wears glasses. I love when he brings those chains out 👁👄👁 .

I love when he hugs himself. I love when he has funny expressions. I love his big ears. I love his traditionally African features. I love his accent. I love that nasty tongue. I love his teefs Mr A is for All 32.

I love that he was a punk ass kid daring people to race him. I love that he had pimples. I love that hes finally getting the recognition he deserves. I love that he is only going to soar because he has a pure soul.

I love that he feels like our second chance with Chadwick. I love that his smile makes me melt. I love that every peek into his brain just makes me love him more.

I love that hes so cute I want to wring his neck. I love that I want to swing from his neck like a mf monkey 🙌🏽🤪 I love those tank tops he be wearing. Ooooof I love the hoochie Daddy shorts.

I love that hes Big Daddy. I love he went viral over an adverb. I love that hes into martial arts. I love that his thighs are so big. I love that he can lift 425 and pull damn near double that.

I love that he knows how to bring that ass outside. I love when he wears those shades. I love his photos. I love his juicy ass pink lips. I love that big headed, sloped shoulder, chameleon 🤪

I love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him

And if he turns up with a yt wife? Yes, that will hurt. But I'll always have Terry who canonically loves a Black woman from infinity to infinity (he instinctively believed Jess was the inside mole helping because he saw her as an ally)

Signed, A Certified Simp Named Mega

[lewiscarrolatemybrain]

Zoro calling Luffy “Sunshine”: 🥹☺️✨

Luffy calling Zoro “Sunshine”: 😭🙏🏻🥰🤩🥳💯‼️❤️🎉

[chrrywvea]

reading the most intricate, soft, emotional but also incredibly hot poolverine smut while listening to lana del rey (specifically ultraviolence) is a truly religious experience

[conjuring-ghouls]

Can't you see that you're lost without me?

[punk1nl0v333]

MENTALLY.

PHYSICALLY.

WEAK.

[su4vz]

“Easy there, sunshine.”

[haine-kleine]

Drives me insane how breathtakingly beautiful Horikoshi made Dabi look before burning him to a crisp and stuffing him into that hellraiser bodysuit

[whump-in-the-closet]

CONGRATS ON YOUR FOLLOWERS!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉 for your scene prompt idea: a royal whumpee with a migraine, perhaps? context up to you :>

- @seth-whumps :D

Thanks dude!! It feels so surreal

anyway...

cw: royal whump, forced caretaking, migraine, noncon drugging because its "for their own good"

The young king’s room was cool and dark. A faint puff of wind made the chiffon curtain billow out like a sail, and then fall softly back to its natural position. Faint starlight shone on the white marble sill, and it glowed ever so softly, also glimmering in the pale blue eyes of the king who stood staring dully at the night sky.

The king's ears were still ringing from the heated arguments in the Council room. The fighting was tearing apart his leaders and he wanted nothing more than to put his head down on the cool marble and cry-- he was past caring about keeping himself together. Done.

He ached as if the entire universe was resting on his shoulders.

And in a way, it was.

A few days ago his most pressing concern had been whether or not the pretty lord with the dark eyes was single. Now it was whether or not he could keep his country from falling into his enemies' hands.

I can’t do this.

I can’t.

And he put his head down on his arm and sobbed.

No father to plan with him and advise him. No mother to comfort him and listen to him pour out his worries.

Alone.

Completely alone.

There was an urgent knock on the door, and someone’s voice called out, asking if he was alright. But he had no strength to stem the flow of tears or to even move from the window. Behind him, the door opened, a shaft of warm light falling across his back.

“M'lord!” 

One part of him ordered him to sit up and greet the intruding lord with the facade of calm that he had spent years perfecting, but the other part was stronger, and so the king didn’t even look up when the young man repeated his name in a shocked whisper. 

“Are you alright? Do I need to send for a healer?” 

This shook him. He had no wish to appear weak. “No,” he choked out, pressing his forehead harder against the cool, tear-splashed marble. “I’m fine.”

“You’re very obviously not fine,” the lord replied, rushing across the room to stand beside the young king. “I’m calling them anyway.”

The king didn't look up. His head throbbed, and even the lord's voice felt like a needle probing into the soft, malleable batter of brain tissue.

“No,” he insisted, the ringing in his ears growing louder. “I’m-- I’m fine.” 

“But…”

“Don’t!” he shouted, whipping around to confront his friend. But instantly his anger vanished, replaced with a searing pain through his head, and his vision went fuzzy, then black as he crumpled.

The lord lunged forward, barely catching him in time. He picked up the limp form of the king with a protective concern. “Someone get me a healer!”

Panic shot through the lord as he realized how effortlessly he had lifted the king's body. He was far too thin and deathly pale.

He carefully lay the king, still with boyish features, on the couch and his eyes fluttered open.

The king tried to sit up but the lord shook his head and placed a hand on his chest, forcing him to lie still.

“Don’t try to sit up yet,” he said, his voice laced with worry. 

The king didn't have the strength to argue, pressing his hands to his temples, where the ringing continued to persist. 

“What… what happened?” 

Before the lord could respond, a healer entered the room. 

This woke the young man up. He bolted upright, ignoring the pain in his head and managing to shoot a glare at the lord. “I said I was fine!” he snapped, instantly wincing as his headache punished him for the sharp movement.

The lord looked worriedly at him but did not answer, instead turning to the healer. “He lost consciousness. He’s also burning up and when I picked him up it was like picking up...picking up a child.”

The king wished he could come up with a come-back to the dark-eyed lord's accusations, but the ringing in his ears made it nearly impossible. All he could manage was an incoherent groan.

The healer was immediately by his side. 

“Your majesty, do I have permission to help you?” 

Like with the lord, the worry was evident in their voice. Blond strands of hair floated down their neck and covered their healer's tattoo at their collarbone.

The king shot another glare at his friend, who remained unfazed. He hesitated but finally nodded, swallowing down the bitter taste of failure. 

“No one is to hear of this, am I clear?” he got out through clenched teeth as the healer pressed their hand to his forehead.

For a moment, their touch was freezing against his skin. The look of worry did not fade. “You need to rest. A proper rest, not a few minutes when you fall asleep during meetings.” 

“I don’t fall asleep in meetings," he lied.

"Sure you don't," muttered the lord.

"I don't!" Another round of electric pain sent him into throbbing agony. He doubled up on the couch. 

The healer sighed. They did not have the patience for the king's stubborn pride. They handed him a small vial, filled with a glittering liquid. “Please drink this. It will help.” 

He eyed it doubtfully. “What’s it for?” 

The healer's eyes flickered with hesitation. “Pain reliever” 

The king pushed himself into a sitting position, “It's not a sedative?"

"...No."

The lord and the healer exchanged a glance.

It was a sedative. Both knew the king would refuse to take a sedative, so the healer lied and the lord kept his mouth shut.

The king looked up at the lord with a pleading expression. "You wouldn't lie to me?"

The lord felt a pang of guilt. He crouched down and wrapped a hand around the king's. His hands were trembling. The lord forced himself to hold the king's gaze as he lied. "It's not a sedative, m'lord."

This seemed to assure the young man. He took the small cup, chugging it down as fast as possible.

The king's hand fell out of the lord's as almost instantly, darkness stitched its way along the inside of his eyelids. In between shallow gasps, he panicked. "You--"

"Shh," whispered the lord. "I'm sorry." He stroked a stray strand of hair out of the king's face and noticed how just within a few months, worry lines had formed on his forehead. "Rest, m'lord. You need it."

The king's eyes fluttered closed.

The healer placed a hand on the lord's shoulders. "It's for his own good," they consoled him.

"I'll sit with him until he wakes up," muttered the lord, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It was the least he could do.