#bae; gallery

[stoneshipper]

I’m helplessly and hopelessly smitten, so much so that I just had to tell you again.

It’s Bae and I’s anniversary already?! I adore this jerk so much. I’ll never get over the first time I played the game and he was talking about his type and I was like “wow… this all matches me perfectly what the-”

commission by kits-ships!

taglist! (lmk if you want to be removed ♡)

@matsushipping | @kits-ships | @self-ship-haven | @tothemoon-ships | @over--heaven

@dmclr | @hundredblooms | @espresso-ships

(click here to join!)

[soldmybones]

i'm absolutely feral about them.

[aviel]

Lee Bae - Untitled (2) (2014)

[lilacsinthedooryard]

Firmin Baes (Belgium, 1874-1943)

The Apple Harvest [1914]

Source :Gandalf’s Gallery

[feyrevelry]

[hollowfaith]

[worldsover]

The Strongest Man Alive

~4k words, oral, gentle dom!Irene

The moon—a weak thing—casts a soft glow through your curtains, illuminating the tangled sheets and two figures and eight limbs entwined. Bae Joohyun. Yours. And yours, she tastes of soju. You push away the curtains of her dark brown hair. You must do better than the moon if you want to see her face.

You don't want to see her face. How weak. Want can't be enough. Want is the moon whose light could never push.

Of course, it's need, this need above gravity—you will fly under your own power to see her gentle eyes shaped like almonds, the scrunch of her petite nose, or the tinge of pink on her cheeks. Such a tinge, you've pulled into her milky skin with each kiss.

Of course, it's need: if you could draw something so symmetrical as the oval of her face, you would be putting your work in galleries. Instead, you find yourself here, marveling at the slope of her jaw. At the slope of her jaw, your lips dance, taste one bead of sweat. Then, you're latched to her neck, making her moan.

Her body yearns against yours. Arms around your neck, your stomachs press together like puzzle pieces (more like magnets: two separate things now one). Her legs, those endless legs, lace around your hips as if they've been there your whole life. They've been there for twenty-six days, if you were to start counting from when you first asked her out. They've been there for five years, if you were to start counting from when you first met her as a friend of a friend. They'll be there forever, because why would you bother counting down when you could count up.

But you couldn't count up how you got here. The nights you shared in your bed or Joohyun's bed were innocent, simple: movies, warm kisses, cuddles. You had expected even slower than that. The lurid moans or the hands on your ass weren't part of the plan. There never could have been a plan. You didn't understand how fate penciled in you and Joohyun as a couple. The woman eight years your senior, aloof and intimidating and introverted. You'd overwhelm her with energy. She'd scare you with an icy glare.

This isn't Joohyun.

Love and care as a person is closer to your real Joohyun. As you aspire to redden and purple her sensitive neck with your lips, her gaze into you is as a stronger light, the morning sun, whose warmth is true and full. The air too, whatever is left between your bodies, crackles with heat, making sleep and a timeful waking for work both distant dreams. Your hand runs down the back of her neck, over thin layers of sweat on her skin, before slipping under her shirt to explore further.

Asymmetries and imbalance—you're understanding these are inescapable parts of you and Joohyun, the longer you count the time together. She's the leader. You're the follower. She might be examining your gluteus maximus like a butcher inspecting meat, pulling you by the chin to kiss your lips again, but you have to ask her: "Do you mind if I touch you lower?" See, gravity is the moon is weak is if as if gravity is not Joohyun's, and in her orbit you float and careful to stay, you seek permission even when you don't need it.

Float higher. Joohyun giggles. It's an often sound, not often enough. "Of course, handsome." That's Joohyun's voice playful and light and airy as a cloud; this is Joohyun dark and dangerous and knife in hand—"Touch me wherever you like."

Because if she says it like that, like she's honestly out to kill you, honestly out to stab you in the heart and in the brain and in the nerves until she's carved out everything that isn't just primal reaction and until something gets cold and hardens and presses against her midriff—and when she does it again, "Go ahead, touch me," and she grabs your wrist and makes you place your hand on her asscheeks—then how are you supposed to react when she says:

"How do you feel about… letting me suck your dick?" Lip bite and all?

This isn't Joohyun. It really isn't Joohyun. Not those eyes, not this soon. Not the woman who dressed modestly, who kept her distance from other men, who fiercely protected her female friends. Your Joohyun would ask for patience. And you were content with your Joohyun. But then, your Joohyun was an image, based on an external shell of a woman, and you can't imagine the real, soft, fleshy bits exposed more than Joohyun right now. And this Joohyun, were you less or more content with this one? Man, take the blowjob—you, an idiot, instead ask, "Now? Suck? T-tonight?"

"Yes, honey," she replies, but her voice is not so sweet. It refuses to let up, to let go of the boning knife; it stays deep, twisting your stomach. "I didn't ask for tomorrow."

Nothing more that you want, but unable to answer, you kiss her again with newfound urgency. Your fingers sink into her ass, and you taste her moan on your tongue. A breathless noise, a hint of a cloud, as if this might tip the balance or untwist the blade. And then a mote of a daring idea in your mind blossoms to sudden action without thinking. "Only if you beg for my dick," you say, with a seriousness that keeps your mouth open. You were not the weakness and the unweight of a pithy satellite.

Joohyun raises a brow. It's over. It's all over. Goodness. You had one chance with the prettiest woman, and now what? But then she grins wide. "Oh, look at you. How bold." This is a smaller knife, used to pare the skin off of fruits, and the pride off of men, so you pout and she pets your head, and you feel better and you feel smaller. "No, I'm kidding, baby. That was really hot. Do it again."

You look down. You are the weakness and…

"I'm sorry, I swear, you did great. I would gladly beg for your cock any day." Joohyun sits up against your hardwood headboard, looks at you through her long, fluttering lashes. "Please? Pwease? Pretty pleeease, can I suck your cock?"

This isn't Joohyun. And this isn't a paring knife, nor a boning knife, nor a playful cloud of words. This is a spoon that eats ice cweam. She pushes her chest together, tempting with cleavage peeking out of her bra top.

In response, you let out a soft whimper.

"Aww, does that mean yes?" she asks.

"Mhm," you say, a shy nod in addition.

"That's my man," she says. That must be the natural truth already. Joohyun said so.

As you sit up to copy her, she pushes you back down using a gentle hand on your chest.

"Just relax and let me take care of you, baby. Be a good boy and trust me." This knife… it cuts your sandwiches in a diagonal, and you think maybe this time, there is a hint of honey in her voice. She coos as she slides between your legs and tugs down your pants with her teeth. When your ankles are free of the pants, Joohyun returns her head by your thighs, and says with a sigh, "Ahh, it's like unwrapping a present. Look at that pretty bulge of yours."

You understand this as a rhetorical command, but still, you look, because by that pretty bulge rests Joohyun's face, and you shudder at its proximity. And while the knife metaphor is over, the mouth literal is more evocative than ever. She trails fingers down your chest and stomach while lips linger on your underwear. When she laps at your bulge, even if she only uses the very tip of her tongue, saliva's wetness seeps through the fabric. Even if the tip of her tongue is scalpel-precise in tracing your cock's outline, your own pre-cum must be seeping too. Her every motion is subtle but effective; you're already mewling loudly, already writhing beneath her.

"Looks like someone is excited." Joohyun uses her teeth again, now fully freeing your arousal from its confines. Your cock springs out and nearly hits her face, and she lets out a delighted squeal and takes control of the unruly actor with her small fingers. "I'm excited too. Gosh, it's so cute how hard you are."

As you lay there, breathless and trembling with desire, Joohyun gazes with adoration and palms along your hardened length. "Please," you say like you don't know what you're asking for.

Contented, Joohyun purrs, grazes her nails on your shaft, traces sinuous patterns down your pulsing vein. "You're so precious," she whispers. Then, stricter (more knife): "But I don't hear enough begging yet."

You're pathetic, weightless, suspended on four strings for each of your four limbs and Joohyun is your puppetmaster and Joohyun is your everything so with your everything, you say, "Please, I need it so bad. Need to feel your mouth on me, n-now. I'm a good boy, please, I'll be good for you, I'll do anything for it. You said you'd take care of me, p-please, I need you to…"

Joohyun places a finger on your lips, and you gulp.

"Aww," she responds with a soft chuckle, soft kisses traveling up your length. "Anything? Hmm…" With each deliberate swipe of her tongue, especially as it crosses the ridge to your cockhead, the most concentrated bundle of nerves, unexpected sounds escape from deep within your throat. Nothing, it seems, is ever in the plans, but especially not the low, throaty, bubbly noses, or the high whiny pitches you make. As her lips ghost over the tip of your cock, you want to grab her hair, to command her to suck—no, you don't.

This isn't you.

If Joohyun expects you to wait, whether it's the next few seconds or until the next moon phase, you will wait.

So you wait.

Now the warmth of her breath is like the warmth of her skin is like the quiet warmth of a distant star, only felt in the deepest calm of the night.

Her dark eyes pierce you with their gaze, dark as to match the inky blacks that surround such a faraway body.

Outside, the wind hums low, like it too is aware of the moment between you and Bae Joohyun. But no one, not even nature, can understand truly.

It's all so hot, so bright, so loud.

After a moment too long and not a moment too soon, Joohyun closes her mouth over your cockhead. It's slow, so slow, like she's tasting this inch and considering the merits of its flavor, then she's savoring the next inch, where she compares and contrasts its mouthfeel. Embarrassingly loud, you groan as she takes more of you in, creating a vacuum seal with her lips. And as if the wet sounds aren't enough, she hums around you, sending vibrations that might start at your cock but cascade through your body. Every now and then, her tongue darts out to flirt around your frenulum while her equally adept hands twist your shaft and fondle your ballsack.

Suddenly, her sucking becomes fast and urgent like a storm rolling in on a sunny day. Her eyes narrow in concentration, a look you've only seen during arcade dates or board game nights—she's trying to win something, and the prize lies in your balls.

You shut your eyelids like you don't want tears to escape, clench your thighs like you want her to lose for once. "Fuck, wait," you grit out through your teeth, "wait, wait, I'm gonna cum if you keep going like this."

Joohyun hesitates for a moment, as though her blowjob is a runaway train. But then she composes herself and pulls away from your cock with a playful smack of her lips. "Aww? Already?" she asks, and you're unsure if she's teasing as usual or in genuine dismay. "Thank for letting me know, sweetheart. I'll slow down."

She adjusts her pace: her lips linger on the base of your shaft, waning crescent, or your sensitive cockhead, waxing gibbous, and her hand has settled on a firm grip of your testicles—and none of that bodes well for your endurance. Joohyun knows exactly what she's doing to you; whenever she makes eye contact, the corner of her lips tugs into a sly smile.

"Think you can handle more?" she asks, low and husky. "I don't wanna push you too far."

She might—she will. Nevertheless, even more unbearable is the mere thought of the lack of her warm and wet ministrations on your member. "Please, keep going. It's okay."

"Promise?" She sticks out her pinky finger. You interlock your finger with hers. Though her hand is small and delicate compared to yours, the weight of the deal is not so. You've just signed a pact with the devil, but all your blood has already rushed to your cock so there's no way you had enough ink. It seems hell's denizens have no respect for legal authority: Joohyun's mouth rushes back to a vigorous rhythm along your shaft, this time allowing more foamy spit to escape the sides of her mouth. Like a sloppy drunk, she talks with a mouth full of you. "I want you to enjoy thih... but I also wanna be a little selfish and worship your cock, pwopehly—" she coughs. "And I can't do that if my precious man cums too early. So I need you to be brave and strong. You'ww be bwave, wight?"

You mouth "I'll be fine" and you've just lied to Joohyun. You wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly filled her mouth with your load, though you'd feel guilt at the lack of forewarning. You find yourself growing louder and more desperate with each pass of her lips.

"That's it, moan as much as you want, babe. I love hearing you."

"Nngh, fuck, you make me feel so good," you say, groaning, grunting, panting.

Her eyes shine with admiration, with honesty: she truly loves every sound she extracts from you. "Well, you make me feel more than just good. I think I'm in love with sucking your cock. No, I know I am. The way it pulses in my mouth, mmm, fuck... it makes me dripping wet." She licks her lips. "I wanna give you all the pleasure in the world. You deserve it."

To prove her point, Joohyun takes a break from your dick and focuses on your testicles instead. She engulfs them one by one, sucking and licking like they are the ripest, juiciest fruit; you must be incredibly delicious because her teeth graze and tug carefully at the loose skin, making you feel heavy and lightheaded simultaneously. Despite your length resting heavily against her forehead and nose and the mess of saliva across her face, Joohyun remains the epitome of beauty.

"No one else gets to see me like this, my love," she says, winking—usually, that'd be deliberate, but you wager it's the sticky saliva and pre-cum dripping from your cock onto her face. Despite the debauchery of the moment, she still manages to look adorable with one eye closed and the other half-open as if she's trying to perfect her winking technique.

Your hands instinctively tangle in her hair, unable to restrain yourself any longer as the intensity increases, both balls in her mouth.

"Close again?" she asks, releasing you from the confines of her mouth with only her fingers remaining on clean-up duty: first, she takes care of the frothy mess on her face and untangles wet strands of hair; then, she collects the sheen on your cock before licking each digit clean. She crawls up the bed, her petite form hovering above you until her face is right next to yours again. You could have never signed a deal with the devil because this is an angel. The angel presses her lips to yours, a tantalizing and bittersweet combination of her saliva mixed with your own juices.

"Does that feel better, babe? I know how much you love to taste my lips."

"Mmm, I do, thank you." Even more than that, however, the kiss is a welcome reprieve from the constant barrage of ecstasy at your genitals. Like earlier tonight, your hands roam over her body. However, now you don't just stop at her smooth curves and pert behind. Your fingers trail lower, finding their way to the warm, wet space between her thighs. As you trace her slick slit, she moans into your mouth, and you realize she wasn't lying. Her cunt is soaked. You're jealous of how much pleasure she can derive from giving pleasure. There is little resistance for your digits to glide inside, a knuckle deep, then two. In a frenzy, her hands roam as well, exploring your every dip and muscle, save for your throbbing erection and twitching balls. Again, you welcome her prudence, though you pay her in kind with a fingerfucking that accelerates.

"Mhm, yes, that's it, touch me like that." Joohyun's gasps interweave each kiss. "You're amazing, such a good, good boy. I'll make you cum such a big load in my mouth soon, I promise."

The thought of it inspires you: you bring your fingers to your lips and taste the remnants of her pleasure, salty and tangy and addicting. She watches you with a mixture of amusement and desire, her cheeks flushed.

"Is it really that good?" she asks, her voice betraying her usual confidence or playfulness as she breathes heavily.

"The yummiest," you reply with a lustful grin, already planning to tongue-map every inch of her cunt later. For now, your focus is fixed on the pleasure Joohyun can bring you elsewhere on your body. Your mind races as her rosy lips part in happiness and glisten like freshly picked strawberries. To say your dick is throbbing is an insult to throbbing; it's a bundle of fireworks ready to set off at any time. "Can... can you suck me again?"

"You sure?" Joohyun asks with a gentle stroke of your cheek, a slight pout, raised brows. There's genuine concern in her tone, however mild, but it quickly falls back to cheeky. "Maybe I should just keep kissing you again." Her pillowy lips press against yours, your jaw, your cheek. Sucks on your neck. Nibbles on your ear. Isn't enough.

You plead, your voice raw and exposed, "No, I need it. Need your mouth on my cock again. Need to cum."

Joohyun's eyes light up with mischief and she leans in close, her sweet breath caressing your face as she purrs, "You're so fun to play with. And it's adorable how much you want this."

Suddenly, her demeanor shifts and she becomes stern once more. "Say 'please' if you need it that bad," she demands.

You comply forthwith, the word slipping from your mouth like a sigh.

Before any of your reactions can inform your brain, Joohyun's lips and tongue envelop your aching cock. Then all the information comes all at once. Light as the fastest hits first as your eyes capture the determination in hers, the way her brows furrow in concentration, how her hair flies about in the sudden action. Then comes the heat, as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth, and the sound of glucks and other carnal oral noises reach your ears last.

Your replies have devolved into incoherent babbling by now; the only word you can repeat is the one she's made you say, and as much as you echo "please", she swallows your dick at just the right pace—just the wrong pace. Fast enough to make you whip your head back, slow enough to leave you on the brink of climax.

"Keep begging all you want, you're not cumming until I've had my fun. You want to explode into my mouth, don't you?" she taunts—look at the stripe Joohyun makes with her tongue. Is she cleaning the saliva on your shaft or covering it further is a question that's repeated ten times for the ten licks between the hundred dips of her mouth. "You want to pound that perfect cock into my throat and coat it with your load?" Wow, it's like she's in your head. Incredible. "Okay. Yeah. I can do that." And with a deep swallow, your head's in her as she takes you all the way down, and holds down, long enough for a single tear to swell in her eye.

Joohyun's nose jams against your stomach, and her eyes twitch—it's the wink again, or so you'd think if you didn't feel your tip jab the back of her throat. A bubble of thick saliva becomes bubbles as determined as she is to ignore her own need to breathe. With every clench of her throat around you, sparks course your nerves, or maybe it's not just the pressure, but the sight of the distension at her neck. Either way, you're unsure how lightning has yet to strike your rod. Every gag seems calculated, designed to make you squirm, and she has an uncanny ability to recognize the approach of your climax. As though through the pulse of your cock vein, she knows when to pull back just when your hairs start to raise, when the goosebumps form. The buildup of static denied its discharge. You would try to thrust your hips into her, regardless of whether you should or shouldn't but should's or shouldn't's are aren't's when she's holding your thighs down. Joohyun manages to treat your cock like a toy to tease and please herself with, despite her fucking her own face into it.

"You must be trying so hard..."

Joohyun pauses momentarily, breathes out through her nose, before another deep swallow.

"Not to explode..."

One more swallow.

"Into mommy's mouth... right?"

And then it happens. With a primal cry, you release everything you have into Joohyun's waiting mouth, her eyes widening in surprise before she eagerly swallows every last drop. Your body trembles with pleasure as she continues to suck you clean, your mind blissfully numb. Even after you finish Joohyun continues to suckle gently on your cock, sending aftershocks of hot bliss through your body; however, the overstimulation is a bucket of cold ice that has you gripping the sheets and begging through loud groans: "Please, please, ahhh."

"Please, what?"

You shake your head as your thighs clench and your eyes roll back. You're still pulsating, still unloading onto her tongue as her lips pucker and lock around your dick. "No, t-too much," you say.

"Sensitive? Aww, baby." But there's a glint of mischief in her eye that makes you question her. Before you can protest, she takes you back into her mouth, working her tongue around the underside of your shaft and suctioning with her lips, pushing herself down into your root until she has wrung you out into her stomach.

When she eventually pulls herself off your sore and spent member, Joohyun's mouth stays open. "Wow, I've never done that. I'm so, so sorry... I swear, I'm not some crazy nympho obsessed with your cock or anything."

You're not sure you believe. You are sure you forgive her. As you catch your breath and bask in the afterglow of mind-altering bliss, Joohyun's head weighing on her thigh, you wonder if what's so irresistible about your cum to her—she's still playing with a glob of it in her mouth. When she gulps, she lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Hmm... seems like you really, really liked when I said a certain word. Or at least your dick did," Joohyun suggests, flicking at and toying with your softness, making you jump.

As her eyes captivate yours, she poses a question that rocks your world.

"Would you like me to be your mommy—" "Yes."

[pray4saint]

Hello! Currently thinking about dteam and chuckle sammich honeymoon hc's! Where you'd go, what you'd do, how was IT was mm

dteam & chuckle sammy on their honeymoons

dteam masterlist & chuckle sammy masterlist & descrip. pg. 13+. gn!reader.

a/n. omg bae, i've got you! also thoughts like these are gonna be rotting my brain for the next month / nsfw versions: dteam / chuckle sammy

dream

either hawaii or france.. idk what to tell you he's a cheeseball, sticks with the classics OR on the complete opposite, somewhere thailand (but for the sake of my sanity and writing ability we're going with kona, hawaii)

definitely picked a b&b over a hotel, he wanted the privacy for that first night as a wedded couple

leaving around 11am to go to beaches all day or go shopping

when you're out shopping, he always finds a way to not-so-subtly mention that you guys have just gotten married / he thinks he's subtle

standing in a pacsun, the cashier scanned the tags of the clothes you were buying, asking the usual customer service questions, ”how are y'all doing, did you find everything okay?” and you look up at your husband before nodding, but he still spoke up, ”doing good, we just got married, this is spouse, and yeah,” he turns to you, ”i think we found everything okay.” ”mhm.” you smile at his incessant need to announce that you're married.

tbh powerbottom!dream but in an absolutely sfw, fluffy way / how he looks at you with, essentially, heart eyes when he says something begging for your approval but also making it widely known that you're his and that you're married every chance he gets

dream most definitely has that 'nothing can bring me down' mentality while on your honeymoon

also in the evenings when the sun sets and you're sat next to him or on his lap, he thanks any and every higher power he's ever heard of that you came into his life because you're stunning and he loves you so much and can't imagine his life without you

doesn't even register if fans come up and ask for a picture until you point them out, he's just so invested in you

he also doesn't get on any of his social media except to post the occasional instagram story despite how much you told him it was fine and you didn't mind if he checked twitter or updated his snap story

”clay, aren't your fans gonna worry if you go MIA from twitter?” you set your notebook aside, turning to face him. ”no honey i'm gonna spend time with you, they can wait.” he smiles at you. ”yeah i know but-” ”no buts. they can wait.”

also he inevitably gets sick on the last day of your honeymoon, which is fine because you were getting tired of going out every day / you made him soup with the small amount of food you'd bought at the local costco and he finally took to twitter to tell them how wonderful you were being

sapnap

i think he's taking you on 2 honeymoons, the first is for two weeks in texas to spend time with his family, just so you know you can always depend on them when you need them

the other is for three weeks in greece; the people, the culture, the food, he loves it and he wants to surround you in it

probably picked a hotel over a b&b

also on all the flights, during airport security, in taxis/ubers, when waiting for flights, in the hotel, he kept repeating the same words

mrs./mr./mx. armstrong, he just loves saying it, SO MUCH

”i love you, [mrs./mr./mx.] armstrong.” your newlywed husband spins you in his arms, pulling you flush against his chest. ”i know mr. armstrong, and i love you.” you press a kiss to his lips, trying to get out of his arms to get back to unpacking your suitcase

i think for activities, lots of lunches out and dinners in

also a whole lot of museums and art galleries and ancient ruins, spending time talking about greek mythology and your own theories and opinions on it

sap also sometimes calls you bro on accident and you sometimes call him dude still and all you guys can ever say about it is 'it is what it is'

”what are you gonna get, bro?” he asks as he closes his own menu. he didn't even realise what he said, but the waiter did, and he just watched with intent, unsure of what was happening. ”i don't know dude, whatever you're having i guess.” you close your menu. the waiter speaks up, ”i'm sorry i know it's none of my business but uhm- are you two not, married?” he sounds nervous, as if he thinks he's interrupted some secret affair. ”wh- what? we're married. we've been married.” sap is the one to point it out, taking your hand in his. ”ah, it was just how you called each other 'dude', and 'bro'.” the waiter laughs nervously, walking away with the order written down. in unison, ”it is what it is.”

i also think he takes you shopping because he believes the people who gave you the best wedding gifts should also get a gift in return in addition to a thank you card

lots of hand swinging with your left hand to show off your ring, and hugging in lines, and kissing-bordering-on-making-out in public, he just has no reason not to anymore, you're married

george

george couldn't decide where you went for awhile, so he asked of your friends and his friends and ended up at first with iceland (this is george guys remember) but then changed his mind and picked italy and romania, one week in each

b&b >>> hotels with george, he prefers the privacy

he spent months before the wedding trying to learn the basics of the italian and romanian languages despite how widespread english is

definitely takes you out to eat A BUNCH, except for two nights in each country where you and him cooked dinner for yourselves

you can expect lots of late mornings and late nights with george, he just can't get enough of his new spouse

definitely emphasises your last name being davidson whenever there's a reservation or when he feels the staff is being a little too forward

”last name?” the host asked, eyes glued to the kiosk screen in front of him. ”mr. and mx. davidson.” your husband smiled at you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

takes you to a store at the start of the trip so you have food where you're staying / bonus if you convince him to go to a farmers' market

every day of the trip you and him have set aside an hour to talk to your respective friends on the phone (he's louder)

also forgets to tell you that he booked a redeye for the first flight out of italy/romania because when he booked it he forgot he was planning for two people instead of just himself / he apologised a lot for it

”y/n i'm sorry, if i had been paying attention i would've booked it for later in the day tomorrow.” ”george, baby it's fine. i really don't mind. it's not like i'm going anywhere.” you flash him your ring with a smile to emphasise you point, to which he returns the smile before looking at his own ring.

he apologised again when the plane was about to take off

ted

i think ted takes you to japan for your honeymoon, at least for a week to try those capsule hotels that you and him been dying to try for months

i think he wants to go see all sorts of attractions in japan; theme parks, cat cafes, boardwalks, boat tours, and maybe take you to see an anime film (my brain is rotted from wanting to see an anime film in japan im sorry)

he booked a hotel because in the moment, it felt the easiest

even in japan he would get recognised, but not nearly as often as he did in the states and he would kindly turn down any fan who wanted a picture because he was busy on his honeymoon

lots of small kisses; at the end of a boardwalk, right before you sit down at restaurants, when you get back to the hotel room, when he brings you coffee, tea, or water in the morning, just outside the restaurant when you're leaving, when you two depart in a mall for a set time of 20 minutes

i think he likes seeing the trending tags on twitter surrounding your wedding

”what'ya smiling at, like an idiot baby?” you ask him, drying your hair with a towel from your recent shower, as you walk around from where your suitcase was to where he was stood in the mini kitchen. ”'the nivisons,' we're trending honey, that's all. i think it's sweet.” ”you know coming over here and giving me a kiss is even sweeter.” his phone is on the counter and he's encasing himself around you so fast.

he definitely texted his married friends for ideas when he started to run out / also before you left he logged into your pinterest on your computer and looked for anything he could use as an idea

you guys start binge-watching a new show while on your honeymoon and made inside jokes about it (yeah you became that couple)

holds your hand when you're walking around and getting into taxis and doing pretty much anything in public because he's scared he'll lose you in a crowd

he talks to you like he would a child. ”don't let go of my hand.” ”i won't ted, don't worry.” you shake your head at his antics once he turns away.

books a later in the afternoon flight out so that you can sleep in and he can pack for you and wake you up and get you out the door slowly, without a huge rush and stress

charlie

charlie takes you to 2 places, to start, you get 3 weeks in bali plus a week in new zealand (jrr tolkien/hobbit/lotr fans are gonna love this one)

in bali, he rents a whole house, 1 bedroom & 1 bathroom with a rate of $110 (usd) a night

while you're there, he takes you to sightsee places like gunung kawi temple, pura lempuyang luhur, ubud monkey forest, tukad cepung waterfall and holy spring (tirta empul)

of course wherever you go he insists on holding your hand, just to keep you close by

”baby you gotta let go of my hand i wanna take pictures.” your husband huffs a small, ”fine.” he releases your hand, but his hands find perch on your waist while you take pictures of the water, or the shops, or the wildlife, whatever.

definitely asks if he can use some of the pictures you took for his instagram story (it's the most he's ever used his insta story) and you tell him yes but only if you get to pick them / also on the same note, if either of you snap anyone during your honeymoon or just take selfies in general, they're always of you two kissing or giving each other cheek kisses in the house or at a restaurant or at a location you're visiting

he spends a lot of time just looking at your ring and how the ring on your finger looks against his fingers and vice versa with his ring against your fingers

”charlie?” he looks up from your intertwined hands in surprise. ”hm, what?” ”whatcha thinkin' about?” ”mmm, nothin', just admiring you.” he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, making you smile and a small tint to cover your cheeks.

in new zealand it's a hotel but it's a hobbit hole hotel, complete with tours of everything new zealand could offer about the tolkien's lord of the rings/hobbit universe

more eating out here than in bali despite how much more expensive it is

(if you're not a huge tolkien fan:) lots of thank yous from him for putting up with the trip so he could enjoy it // (if you are a huge tolkien fan:) a ton of excitement for both of you during the entire trip, and lots of talking about your own theories as you learn more about the fictional world

also vlogging the new zealand trip with charlie >>>> / and cataloging the film in the airport just before your flight for you to edit when you get home

schlatt

canada. idc, canada, that's where you're going. or iceland. somewhere cold.

i'm kidding, he told you that as a prank and then took you to australia (i apologise if you can't stand the animals there but this is schlatt we're talking about c'mon)

hotel over a b&b because even he, being the big guy that he is, was a little worried about finding a massive spider in the bed

probably quite a bit of alcohol that first night as a married couple

”y'so- god sweets y'so pretty.” schlatt twirled you around with one hand, beer bottle in the other. you giggled, the alcohol affecting your words and actions. you kept one hand tangled with his while the other held a grip on your bottle of beer. ”j..y'so handsome, you know that?” he blushed, and it must've been the alcohol because your boyfriend– husband now, never got flustered over something as small as that.

there's one night where you two go out dancing and when he sees all the prying eyes of the men and women around you, he makes sure to emphasise your ringed hands, keeping one of his hands planted firmly on your side

somehow you ended up going to see some aniaml fight with schlatt and when it got a little.. gory, you'd cover your eyes with your hands and tuck your head into his shoulder or his chest

”you alright baby?” he asked, flicking his eyes between you and the fight, arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer. ”i guess. jus'wanna leave though.” you whispered up into his ear and he nodded, waiting another minute before walking out with you tucked into his side, repeatedly asking you if you're really okay.

schlatt who takes you out to dinner every other night, with the rest of the nights being used to talk to both his and your friends and watch films together

also schlatt who believes in taking turns making lunch; whether it be sandwiches (it usually is), or pasta, a frozen pizza, etc, you take turns, after all you're married now, everything is 50/50

you probably both get sick at the end of the trip from something you ate and at first you were really worried, but he got better after a day and you two days after that

i also one hundred percent believe schlatt wanted to get home as soon as possible and picked an earlier in the morning flight / him plucking you from the bed three hours before your flight so you could shower and get ready, finish repacking, etc

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

[naomistares]

heyyyyy twirls hair cutely.. i updated my inprnt (pretty much) if any one wants to support me... please.. im gonna be real im gonna need a new ipad soon 🫶😭 thank u my beautiful angel baes for an awesome year

ALSO funger fans. im so sorry my dumbass deleted all the files for it on procreate to save space before i saved them 😭 i will try to figure sth out... ill try to find high quality copies !

[stoneshipper]

I recently redid a LOT of my XOXO Droplets lore, and it turned out very cute, so I wanted to share it here!! ♡

All self-ship art here was done by @/kits-ships! Other game art was taken straight from GB Patch’s game/blog ♡

hi taglist ♡ ty for joining!!

@matsushipping || @kits-ships || @self-ship-haven || @tothemoon-ships

join my taglist here if you’re interested!

[nnnyxie]

BAE I‘M ABT TO ABSOLUTELY GO OFFFFFFG

So Fan!Izu is also plaguing my mind… Fan!izu x Artist!reader?? Imagine??? It starts in maybe middleschool…Izu discovers Readers Art account full of All might and they connect over their shared love for him…this friendship thing continues for a few years but they loose contact when reader deletes their art blog seemingly out of nowhere…so then there‘s a time skip until he’s a pro and Reader has a rather successful gallery of exclusively hero paintings…feeling themselves drawn to Deku (crazyyy imagine that) and painting him all the time…an especially big painting of Deku alongside Allmight is being displayed by them right now..clearly visible through a huge window in the front of the building

So now the fun part

Izu is on Patrol, or even better in a heavy fight, he swings by while doing god knows what and spots the painting and suddenly the world stops, he recognized this style…everything comes clashing back on him, the late nights of talking and making up theories about all might and all the intimate conversations they shared…how they opened up to eachother and everything, while he is distracted the villain gets in a nasty hit

Reader being the hero fanatic they are has been following the fight hidden inside (has no idea that Izu is their ex online friend situating thing) conveniently possesses a healing quirk and quickly rushes outside..maybe recovery girls grand child or something (YOU SEE WHERE THIS IS GOINGGG???) but their quirk works a little ✨different✨so they have to kiss him specifically on the lips and as soon as their eyes meet they just pause and stare, both their eyes widening

But they have no time to process this- as there is still a villain going about their shenanigans so reader Just smashes their lips together and Izu goes to fight and win and bam reunion

I be writing whole fics in your Requests I don’t even know what to do with myself😭

I’m sorry🫶🏻

#𖢥 izuku anon

IZU ANONNNN I LOVE THIS AND I LOVE YOU!!!!

this is such a beautiful idea!! i want to eat you!!! /pos

you were fairly small in the art community back in middle school— which resulted in little to no commissions.

but— there was this one boy who absolutely ADORED all of your all might fan art!! after you finished one drawing for him, he’d commission another.

you had to let him know that he’s allowed to basically buy in bulk— plus the bulk prices wouldn’t tear up his wallet!! though— he was always happy to pay you extra. he insisted, even.

with all of these interactions, it led to a friendship!! you would talk about all might’s recent battles, general interests, school, etc. of course, you never brought up quirks. you felt that there was no reason to! plus yours was…….. interesting, to say the least.

the friendship started at the beginning of middle school and lasted until the end of it.. before you just,,, disappeared.

and you went years without talking— years without the video chats and voice memos. years without the hero conspiracy theories. years without late night embarrassing stories. just— years without each other.

he didn’t know why you left and it hurt him. he mourned for years over the loss of your friendship. why didn’t you tell him you were leaving? why didn’t you try to contact him again? what happened? were you hurt? did you… die? he cried over this.

and he had fantasies of meeting you again one day. he made up scenarios of him saving you from danger— or of him just randomly running into you while he was patrolling during his work studies. or you just finding him. he’d fall asleep to these, hoping that they’d come true.

one lucky (sort of?) day, izuku was thrown through your gallery— glass shards flew everywhere.

for a moment, you paused. everything disappeared and it was as if only he existed. “izuku?” you whispered. his previously closed eyes shot open.

he looked at you— he looked— surprised? hurt? happy? confused? it was like he was going through the five stages of greif except— instead of greif it’s whatever the hell that’s going on between you two.

izuku rushed to get up but, he couldn’t— he could hardly sit up. he was bleeding an awful lot.

“don’t get up! you’re hurt!” you kneeled and pushed him to lay down. “where have you— what?” he held his injury, there was a large piece of steel in his side. “i said don’t get up! you have a damn piece of steel in your side izu!” you panicked— should you take it out and heal him? but that would— oh god that would be embarrassing. but, it’d save him… maybe you should just suck it up and do it?

“bite on this.” you reached for the silk painting next to you and shoved it in his mouth. his eyes widened, realizing what you were about to do. you pulled the steel out of him and watched the blood nearly gush out—

you leaned close to him, were you really going to do this? i mean— it’s part of your quirk so, it shouldn’t be weird, right? and, even so, it’s just a kiss. a kiss on the lips. a kiss that would definitely make an already weird situation,,, weirder… but, it’s to help— so you just suck it up.

“i’m sorry,” you took the silk from his mouth and kissed him— the kiss was longer than what your quirk called for… but, extra measures??? yeah……..

his injury healed quick, thankfully. there was still fighting outside. the villain’s yells caught izuku’s attention. realizing that he was, in fact, still taking down a bad guy with his partners. “i’m going to be back. don’t disappear again. please?” you nodded.

and just like he said— he was back. it was past dark now, your window was able to be restored by a sidekick with a reversal quirk. he was happy to see that. “hi,” was all izuku said when he walked through the door. he looked both anxious and excited. “hi,” you breathed out, this was kind of scary.

he looked around your gallery while making his way towards you. there were various portraits of himself. ranging from traditional, digital, abstract, realism, mosaic, and silk. he was both flattered and impressed.

he reached you and stared. taking in the fact that you were actually here.

“why did you leave?” izuku asked after a long silence.

“well it’s not like i wanted to… art was just something my parents didn’t want me to do… and they took it all away, i guess.” he frowned a bit, how could a parent not support their child’s ambitions? it appalled him that they didn’t.

“did you try finding me again?” he asked. he remembers the countless hours he spent searching for you. “i did and— i was able to find you.” “then why didn’t you reach out?” his face, his expression— it was gut wrenching. “i thought you would’ve hated me so i just… didn’t.” he looked bewildered. as if you just said something so heinous and unforgiving. “i wouldn’t— i wouldn’t have hated you,” izuku’s eyes were watery. “i’m sorry, izu.” he shook his head no, “i understand, okay? you don’t need to apologize.” he sniffled.

the tension was nearly suffocating— you didn’t know how to respond. i mean— what do you say to that?

izuku noticed the obvious anxiety you had.

“so uhm… deku is a cool hero, from what i’ve heard,” he joked. then you remembered the multiple pieces you had of him— you wanted to die.

“oh god,” you groaned in embarrassment and covered your face. izuku smiled and uncovered your face, “your art is really amazing.” was he trying to kill you? like— his smile?? he’s so pretty??? how can a guy be so pretty?? genuinely, he’s so much prettier in real life than in pictures— it’s ridiculous.

“uhm how about we catch up? maybe over uhm dinner tomorrow?” izuku asked, his face was flushed red— again, he’s ridiculously pretty. “i’d love that.”

[forlix]

MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

omg how fun, thank u for sending this in nonnie !!! let me see...

@astraystayyh and hyunjin would have to be some 800k ao3 slow burn about forbidden love between royal families ... the grandest and most poetic of period drama romances that persists through backstabbing and betrayal and trial after tribulation. nothing less for my artistic soulmates

the first tropes to come to mind for @rachalixie and minho are literally just. not even really tropes. established relationship. domestic fluff. slice of life. they're That Couple. nobody remembers when they weren't together. they invite me over for dinner when i've had a bad day. mom and dad

@like-a-diamondinthesky and seungmin are the EPITOME of (fake) enemies to lovers. they're the sweetest, silliest, most sinister people and i just know their dynamic would be a dream come true for each other and a nightmare for everyone else

sue is just her "eighteen" mc in my head so @soobnny and seungmin scream best friends to lovers + college au to me. seung being the best cheerleader for her while she's crazy busy :') also she flusters v easily and i think he'd get a kick out of that (ik i do)

@luvtak and felix are giving childhood friends to lovers! the sort of relationship where they know each other better than they've ever known anything; really just the safest, warmest, and kindest of affections for the safest, warmest, and kindest of people

i'm gonna cheat again and hc @sunboki and chan as a trope from august's mafia au "korea's most wanted"; augs is so creative and badass and SEXY and so is the main couple's dynamic in that fic. chan's a lucky man. DITCH HIM FOR ME 🗣️

@txtxlz and jeongin would be a multipart messy love triangle ft. jealousy and pining and so much chaos bc haz has more biases than i have fingers or toes and i love love the idea of her favorite idols going to war over her. it's what my baby deserves fr

for @2baabbies and felix, i imagine perhaps a barista au or a librarian au (hehehehe) where he finds stupid excuses to come back and pick bae's brain every day because he's utterly enraptured by her. she has that effect on people and lix would NOT be immune

@starsandrqindrops and seungmin are so fwb-coded. think suffocating chemistry every time they interact. could cut the tension with a dull machete. then inevitably complications like Feelings come into play and they dance around each other for ages before finally giving in ... mm yes all that good stuff

last but not least, @hyunnie04 and hyunjin would be so perfect for an art school!au. mira is an incredible artist so i'm picturing these two sketching each other instead of paying attention in class ,,, gallery/museum dates ,,,, maybe a sprinkle of healthy competition who knows ,,,,

[uberthemeh]

[The Walking Talking Man: LIVE]

8PM @ the Audeytoryum

BE THERE

INPRNT:

[antigone-ks]

Lantern of Evil

It's been almost 5 years since I posted this on AO3, so I thought it was time to clean up some typos and put it onto Tumblr.

MASTERLIST

Summary:

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

***

Or, Steve gets de-serumed and falls in love over art, old movies, and taxi dances.

Rating: E for Explicity, Eventually

Tags: Steve Rogers/Reader; Plus Size Reader; Natasha Romanov (Marvel); Tony Stark; Sam Wilson (Marvel); James "Bucky" Barnes; background Bucky/Nat - Freeform; Skinny Steve Rogers; Pre-Serum Steve Rogers; Post-Serum Steve Rogers; De-Serumed Steve Rogers; all of the combinations of serums and Steves; Slow Burn; Awkward Flirting; Awkward reader; Awkward Steve Rogers; neither of these goobers know what they're doing; shameless Letterkenny reference; False Identity; horrible misunderstandings; love in art galleries; love on bridges; love on front porches; will earn rating in later chapters; I hope; inappropriate use of a history degree; Short Reader; Profanity; Fluff; Angst; Fluff and Angst; Smut; Oral Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Making Out; definitely third base; not all-the-way parking but pretty close; Biting; Cunnilingus; Fellatio; Vaginal Sex; Steve wants to be clear that this isn't fucking; Making Love

Chapter One: The Greens of June

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

____________________

You settled onto the bench, bag on the floor. The museum had barely opened – a bad sign; it meant you were either blocked or stir-crazy. Or both. Both was bad. You’d had the museum on your list of things-to-do-if-you-had-time, but when you’d first come to town you’d expected that there would never be time. You were getting the change of scenery and relief from responsibilities that you’d always wanted, so of course you never imagined that the same old problems would plague you.

Namely, writer’s block. Imposter Syndrome. “Every word I write is trash and I should sleep in the dumpster”-itis.

You’d gotten this amazing opportunity to take a sabbatical, move half a continent away, and just research the hell out of your magnum opus, a stroke of historical genius. Or what would be your magnum opus, if you could get the damn thing off the ground. Right now it was stuck at brevi opus.

Opus minimis.

You had piles of research, and a good starting point, but you either got stuck on the writing of it or spent days on end organizing the data until the sun coming in the curtains made you feel like a Morlock crawling out of its hole.

So you’d hit the museum.

It’d actually been working pretty well for you, the last few weeks, and you’d started making it part of your routine. Rather than wait for the Bad Times to force you out of the house, you’d come down every two or three days and just . . . pick something. A painting, a sculpture, whatever caught your eye, and you’d study it until your mind felt clear. Sometimes your mind would wander far enough afield that it circled back to your work, and you’d excitedly jot down a new avenue to explore or a turn of phrase you liked. Sometimes you got nothing but a peaceful feeling. Either way, it was good for you, and the initial guilt you’d felt at not being Productive At All Times had faded.

It sort of was productive, anyway. You told yourself so.

For the last couple of visits, you’d sat with Hamilton’s Joan of Arc and the Furies. It was Shakespeare’s Joan, about to be captured by the English and burned for heresy. It’s not . . . good . . . you think, you don’t like it, but there’s something about it. It’s like two different paintings in one, dark and bright, overbearing and reticent.

There aren’t many people around yet, no kiddie camp visits today, so you’re alone in this part of the gallery. The docents are used to you by now, and don’t bother eagle-eyeing you. You lean your chin on your hand and stare hard at Joan, at her Merveilleuse gown, which, like, didn’t Hamilton know she wore pants? Like, famously? But anyway.

“You know,” a deep voice said, “I’ve always wondered what’s going on with the light down by that first fury. What does it symbolize?”

You look over your shoulder at the speaker, a slightly-built blond man with a sketchbook under his arm. He’d shown up a couple of times before, wandering around with more purpose than the average tourist, like he knew which pieces he liked and why. He had a delicate face and serious eyes with just ridiculous lashes. You smiled uncertainly.

“Like, where even is it coming from? Under her skirt?” you ask, and he looks down at you and whoa nelly those are very blue eyes and chuckles.

“Is it the lantern of justice?” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

“Probably not in Shakespeare. Maybe a lantern of evil.”

“She keeps a lantern of evil in her skirt?” He’s smiling openly at you now, and it’s a really nice smile, and that’s the only excuse you have for what comes out of your mouth next.

“Lantern of evil – in my pants!” you chirp, grinning.

His eyebrows shot up and he gave an incredulous hah.

“Like, like the game?” you say hurriedly. “Where you add ‘in my pants’ to a quote, or a movie title?” You can hear your voice rising nervously and fiddle with your glasses to avoid looking at him. “One ring to rule them . . . in my pants?”

He’s laughing now – probably more at you than at the joke – but it’s enough to relax you a little bit.

“I have never played that game,” he said, eyes dancing. “But I know just the person to try it with. I’ve seen you here before,” he went on, glancing back at the painting. The tips of his ears went very pink.

“Yeah, this is turning into my happy place when work’s not going so well.” You look at Joan again and clear your throat. “I think I saw you, too . . . maybe Sunday?” Not that I noticed you. I’m not a creeper. I notice nothing. I can barely see.

He nodded and shrugged. “Probably, yeah. I’ve been here a lot over the past week.”

“Work got you down, too?” you ask. He kind of purses his lips and nods. Taking a breath, you gesture to the empty half of the bench. “Want to share Joan with me? She’ll take your mind off it.”

His smile is a slow, gentle thing, and even though you say nothing more until it’s time to leave, you feel warmer for sitting near him.

***

“Because they’ll clog up the drain.” Tony’s voice is clipped.

“They get rid of odors,” Natasha points out.

“So it was you.”

“You think I drink that light roast nonsense?” She looks up as Steve enters, the light of battle in her eyes. Well, the light of annoying Tony. It’s not hard. “Weak.”

“Now you’re a coffee snob, Romanoff? You – “ Tony points a pair of tongs at Steve “ – do some reconnaissance, rally the troops, whatever it is you do, and catch this villain.”

Steve clucks his tongue and fails to hide a grin. “Coffee grounds again? You know, we could just get a Keurig and solve that problem easily.” He ducks as both Tony and Natasha turn on him, allied in outrage.

“Just for that,” Tony says, “you get whichever steak I overcook.”

Steve eyes the barstools at the island. He can get into them now, but it involves just enough scrambling that it hurts his dignity. No one said anything the first time he did it, not even Tony, and that was somehow worse than teasing would have been. He’s not broken, for God’s sake. He’s a man of temporarily reduced stature. It’ll be fixed in no time, Bruce and Tony and Helen have promised, but . . .

He’d read a book once that described a gnome as a person whose ‘belligerence was compressed into a body six-inches high and, like many things when they are compressed, had an inclination to explode.’[1] Steve didn’t consider himself belligerent – although he had the urge to cross himself in penance and hope that Bucky was in a different building when he thought it – but he did feel like every human emotion was currently packed into a body too small to hold it all. This body didn’t fit, except that it did, and Steve honestly wasn’t sure which feeling was worse.

He leaned against the counter with – he hoped – an insouciant air and nodded at Tony. “’s long as I can gnaw through it.”

“Are you impugning my grilling skills, Rogers?”

“Wait, you’re gonna grill those?” Sam and Bucky entered the kitchen, apparently fresh off a sparring match. Sam’s skin glistened with sweat, and Bucky wasn’t much better off. Sam might not have super serum in his veins, but he wasn’t a pushover in the ring.

“How else d’you cook ‘em?” Bucky asked, wrinkling his nose at Sam.

“You sear ‘em on the stovetop in a cast-iron skillet,” Sam said, holding up one finger, “finish ‘em in the oven,” two fingers, “serve with a garlic-herb butter.” Three fingers, waved in Bucky’s face.

Natasha leaned on the counter next to Steve and pointed her phone toward the argument. “Every time,” she whispered, hitting "record."

“Every time,” Steve answered.

“In the oven? Cook like a man, Sam!”

“Grill makes ‘em too dry,” Sam insisted.

“Hey!” Tony snapped his tongs at Bucky. “My meat. My rules.” He straightened his shoulders under Sam’s withering look. “On the grill, flip once a minute for the good grill marks.”

“That’s overhandling.” Sam’s tone suggested he was heading straight to church to light all of the candles for Tony’s soul.

“Wait – everyone, wait,” Steve broke in. Natasha quirked her lip at him, annoyed that he was ruining the show. He winked at her. “The real issue here is, aren’t you gonna season those things?”

“Yeah, where’s the salt and pepper, bud?” Bucky asked.

“Don’t start with me,” Tony warned.

“Where’s the steak spice,” Sam asked, rummaging through the cupboards. “I made you a steak spice months ago. My own blend, Tony. I gifted it to you. I’m not eating one of your bland-ass steaks again.” Tony abandoned the meat in favor of bodily hauling Sam away from the cupboards, giving Bucky time to grind at least a little peppercorn on each of the steaks.

“ – my steaks alone!” “ – killing the flavor, man. Killing the flavor!” “ – oversalting!” “ – can’t cook ‘em right, you leave it to someone who can!”

“You’re in a good mood today,” Natasha commented, holding the phone steady as Tony and Sam devolved into a slap fight. “Haven’t seen you smile this much since, y’know.”

“This is quality entertainment,” Steve said. “You don’t get this every day.”

“No you do not.” She turned the phone toward Bucky, who whistled as he sprinkled sea salt over the meat. He looked up, winked directly at her, then tossed the rest of the seasoning like a long-haired Salt Bae.

“But you already seemed pretty chipper when you snuck back in before the show started.”

Steve’s eyes were wide with injured innocence. “Snuck? Back in? I –“

“Can it. I don’t care – probably no one will recognize you – but if Tony finds out he’s going to turn into Chicken Little about security.”

“Tony can go lay an egg,” Steve said firmly, making Natasha snort with real laughter.

She sighed. “As hilarious as this is, I’m getting hungry." her voice carried across the kitchen. "Knock it off of or I’m calling Rhodey in.”

Tony straightened, Sam’s arm still around his neck. “Betrayal, Romanoff. I feel betrayed.”

“Yeah, no calling in the brass,” Sam complained. “We can settle this on our own.”

“Better settle that meat on the grill before the others get here,” Steve said. “Want help?”

“Excuse me,” Tony said, affronted. “I can handle the meat.”

The words left Steve’s mouth before he could stop them “ – in my pants?”

Natasha dropped the phone.

____________________

[1] Terry Pratchett, The Fifth Elephant

case/lang/viers – “Greens of June”

And all the greens of June/ Come blowing through the door/ They make me want to live/ Like I never have before

Read Chapter Two

[livelaughlovesubs]

Ayo is there a full version of your Mahito pfp? I'd like it for science

Sure Ofc bae

Credits to @sajujutsu over twitter or X, I have over 100 of their drawings in my gallery cuz they are amazing <3

I even Like the ship arts cuz Mahito the bottom in them 😊

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

Have a picture I took yesterday. The sun was too bright XD

HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS SHOULD BE A PAINTING WTF. DISPLAY THIS SHIT IN THE GALLERIES. WHEN I SAY THIS PHOTOGRAPHY IS THE SHIT. YOU ARE THE SHIT BAE. HOLY. I THINK I SEE THE LIGHT GUYS.