#and all bodies are good bodies

[ekingston]

you wanted horny anons, here's one: got any thoughts about a bodybuilder!kara (no powers) and a lena who reeeeaally likes those big strong muscles? and maybe loses it a little when kara wears a sleeveless shirt around her? (if you don't feel comfortable posting horny content/don't want to respond to this, no worries, and have a nice day!!)

you’re perfectly fine anon, i assume every single one of you is horny unless otherwise specified on account of the kind of things i tend to write and draw HOWEVER—and i’ll admit it’s 100% my own fault that we’re here because i have definitely written lena thirsting after kara’s physique—as a writer i feel kara’s muscles are actually the least interesting thing about her? so i’m afraid writing anything more than my usual passing references to this dynamic wouldn’t likely be very enjoyable for me or ring very true to you!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[chloesimaginationthings]

Purple Michael is the best FNAF Michael

[greelin]

it is literally called a “happy” trail for a reason.. If you feel any emotion other than joy upon seeing it you should be sent to live on a deserted island by yourself forever. or blow up. either way get out of my presence

[bubblesthecow]

The thing that I love the most about Doctor Who is that it’s just SOOOOOO bad. It’s awful. It’s dreadful. It’s cheesy and stupid and terrible. It has dialogue like “I am the beep of all the meeps!” It’s truly the most embarrassing cringeworthy thing you’ve ever seen. It’s been that way for 60 years. It’s gonna be that way for another 60. It doesn’t matter what kind of budget or fan base they receive. It’s always gonna be this stupid.

I love it so fucking much.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Trapped in a vicious cycle of pining? Try gay sex! (More things to learn over at Tiger Tiger!)

[factual-fantasy]

ITS FINALLY DONE!! :DD

I started this comic back at the start of April, back when I made this other comic! It took an unfortunate amount of time to complete thanks to my condition.. but that's ok! All the lovely responses from the last comic kept me motivated! XDD (Thank you everyone!!🥰💞💞)

This time around I went with a more serious tone and put a bit more story in there! :00 With this comic I wanted to experiment with Bonnie and Gloria's relationship. And more importantly, Gloria as a character.

I've thought of her as the groups leader, some may even say she's a mother of sorts. She is always so calm in the face of danger.. She always knows exactly what to do and she does it perfectly. How is she so strong? How does she deal with the stress of it all?? Does she even feel stressed to begin with?? Well as its turns out.. she kind'a doesn't feel anything at all.. and she wishes she was stronger..

[slothxio]

flopped on ttk ;(

[biceratops7]

Dang it guys

we only ever talked about HALF of why these scenes were a big deal, like I just realized this today and my heart is going insane.

It’s not just that Crowley’s pissed at Gabriel for treating who he thinks as Aziraphale this way, the last thing he says to the people about to kill him is a benign and peaceful wish to see them again.

And like- this is Crowley trying to replicate Aziraphale to a T. So he legitimately just sees him as this endless well of compassion, someone who is always warm and accepting. It’s not just their friendship throughout the years, he remembers Aziraphale’s kindness on the Eastern Gate. When the angel had absolutely no reason to trust this random demon who just slithered up next to him. Crowley knows that he’s loved. Maybe not like that quite yet (although he’d be very wrong), but he knows that around his friend he’s always welcome and safe.

And Aziraphale?

Well he just thinks Crowley’s the coolest fucker alive, like he is laying it in THICK and enjoying every second. Listen to that charisma, look at that smirk. These are traits that are typically only appreciated in the context of how good it makes Crowley at tempting, a job he hates. But Aziraphale doesn’t see someone manipulative or regard this persona as signs of his “demonic nature”, he just sees Crowley. Someone charming, fun loving, and cute.

This is when we get to know precisely why they love each other, what exactly they see in the other.

edit: this is now my most popular post, good work team, lol

[nedlittle]

genuinely i think it's important for adults, especially in the plague times, to play pretend in our day-to-day lives. when i rub my back down with tiger balm so i can sleep without pain, i imagine i am a valiant knight tending to an old injury i received from a dragon. when i go to the store to pick up eggs and milk, i am a lone cowboy riding into town on a mission. when i turn my collar up against the wind i am a femme fatale who's killed 4 husbands and is scoping out a 5th. when i stomp around in the snow i am a doomed polar explorer. if being a little bit silly about my walk to the pharmacy helps me remember that life can be full of joy and whimsy, then so be it.

[fisherrprince]

dummy trio let’s go ‼️‼️

[holographings]

my softest, beigest pillow

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[yourangle-yuordevil]

First time they make an effort (because going to the bathhouses Barbie style™ would have raised more questions than necessary...)

[maskofnova]

You weren't invited to this party but theyre gonna do a cool pose at you anyway until you leave the room.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

...Turns out gay sex actually was the solution.

(This is basically a redraw, come read the real deal over at Tiger Tiger)