#bodies are fucked man

[mayahawkins]

a dr told me my chest pain is most likely caused by stress rn but he did prescribe me an anti-inflammatory so like did i feel a lil dismissed? yes. but it was still kind of a win so hopefully 2 weeks of this med will make all my chest pain go away forever fr

[brainrotcharacters]

TW: Wolverine Badonkas

I laughed rewatching because like

[bubbarnes]

“... the good old days. I'm still trying to get back to that winter soldier shape, I don't know if it's going to work out at forty-two years old.”

[novakiart]

hi I'm back with an epilogue

prev

[pien-art]

recovering memories :')

[fatherofpuppets]

BENRY >:D

[sibblank]

reminder Denji still doesn't know about Yoru so he's gonna think Asa's the one who's this conceited

(though it is sweet he's immediately ready to reassure her right after throwing up the whole girl, supportive king)

[d-emeter]

Simon Riley who loves to watch you shower (though not in the way you think). — plus-size!fem!reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley

CW: plus-sized reader but can be read as body neutral, non-sexual nudity, simon being smitten

You're not sure when it became a habit, but you remember the first time it happened. You had announced you were going to take a shower, and Simon had sprung up, asking if he could quickly brush his teeth before you went in there. You snorted a little at that, telling him he could do it while you were showering — he'd seen you naked plenty of times before, you didn't even think twice about it. And always one to follow an order, he did as he was told.

It took you a second to notice how he had stilled his movements, toothbrush still hanging from his mouth and his eyes focused on you through the mirror as it slowly fogged up.

"Something wrong, Si?"

"N'thin, baby, jus' do y'r thing."

It became almost ritual not long after that. If Simon spotted you with a fresh set of clothes in your arms, he padded over to the bathroom behind you, not a word exchanged. He'd sit on the closed toilet seat, insisting you left the shower door open.

"Si, the whole bathroom's gonna get wet..."

"Don't matter. I'll dry it after."

And then he just... watches. In complete silence, he just gazes at you. Watching how you wash your hair (doing it twice, because someone on social media told you it was better for your hair), inhaling deeply as the scent of your shampoo fills the air. He watches how you work the conditioner in, letting it sit while you continue with the next step of your routine. He watches you scrub away with a washcloth, suds covering your skin before rinsing it all off under the hot water. He particularly enjoys what you call your 'everything showers'. If you're in the mood to shave, he wants you to put your foot up on the toilet seat, right between his thighs — he'll handle the hard to see parts, lovie, don't worry about it. He's a little confused about the concept of scrub, but you have no problem babbling an explanation as you rub it all over your body (you find a whole array of newly acquired shower products the day after — scrubs included). He's still watching when you get out, how you dab yourself dry instead of rubbing, almost hypnotized as you smear serum after serum and layer cream after cream on your face and body.

"No fuckin' wonder your skin is so soft- Y'got a whole apothecary in here."

"What, you think this happens naturally?"

—

The first time he actually joins you, he doesn't really know how to get the question out. It's a day and a half after he came back from deployment, and as much as you would have loved to smother him in affection, you knew he needed time. Time to ground himself, to stop seeing the blood on his hands even after scrubbing them raw, to go from being Ghost to being Simon. He's been holed up in the bedroom since he came home, and only moves to leave once he hears the bathroom door open. You only smile at him when he appears in the doorway, assuming he'd take his usual seat. He doesn't. Instead, he's gesturing awkwardly to the shower. You know what he means.

"Can I- D'you mind if-"

"Of course you can, Si."

You're gentle with him; coaxing him out of his clothes and mask, turning the shower on and letting it get to temperature before guiding him in with you. He's stiff as a board still, but you see the small exhale at the hot water hitting his skin. You reach for his shampoo (the one you picked out for him — you nearly broke up with him when you first saw the single 5-in-1 bottle he had in his bathroom), but he's faster, grabbing your own and handing it to you, and you know what he wants. You don't say a word as you squeeze some onto your palm, and go to reach up when you realize-

"Simon, baby, could you bend down a little? I can't reach..."

He's on his knees before you know it. His eyes close when your hands start working through his hair — it's longer than when he left. His hands find their way to your thighs. You know he doesn't need it for balance. His forehead rests against the pudge of your stomach as you rinse him out. You can still see the remnants of his eyeblack when you tilt his head up.

You take him through your whole routine. He lets you wash him before you take care of yourself — he just watches, like second nature.

You know you have your Simon back once you turn the water off.

[bubbarnes]

“... seb is back”

[tapenbreak]

reverse somnophilia with kylar—as in through the depths of the twinkling night, they can’t help their creaking footsteps from making its way to your thoroughly sleeping form, restless slip their way through an opened window you’ve oh, so thoughtlessly left opened like the forgetful boy that you can be.

but, doesn’t that explain enough on it’s own? that being, an unspoken invitation left by yours truly for him to eventually sneak his way towards your snoozing self—merely unperturbed by the way his quivering figure hovers above your own. prettily dozing away for him to do as he so pleases and that is, to settle himself underneath the woollen covers as well, as though this is where he irrefutably belongs so. him, your curled up form that remains blissfully aware of a foreign presence intimately pressed against your own. . . ah, there it is—found it.

for you see, he’s inadvertently uncovered an unknown secret of yours during one of his numerous trespassing trips of laying upon your single bed, too. one which you’re sorely left unaware of, judging by the way you hadn’t taken proper measures of not purely sleeping in your mere underwear. the sudden grasp of your welcoming arms finding themselves encircled around the width of his rather. . . skinny waist, singular leg hooked upon his hip like it’s the most natural thing to do, as per expected—you cutely cuddle the nearest thing within your reach, in your sleep, but not only that either. simultaneously humping along the familiar curvature of his backside, dribbling cock neatly resting between his asscheeks.

and funnily enough, he doesn’t make the slightest movement so as to potentially startle you. gleefully lets himself be used so, as your unsuspecting stress toy in your slumbering wake. since you certainly need the resulting relief, don’t you? or so, his deluded self has properly convinced himself of such—that he’s surely helping, is all! rubbing along the straining bulge of your leaking cock head firmly pressed against the stretchy material, subconsciously squeezing his squishy thighs to further aid the eventual release, which you seek yourself.

no, no—he really can’t help the stifled whimpers that spills past bitten lips meant to be silenced. cranes his neck partially to the side to witness your utterly adorable expression you’re presently wearing while you’re practically fucking someone’s clothed behind. hitched breath faltering and uncaring for the possible name that may slip out as you’re doing this. solely concentrated on delightfully drinking in the deepening furrow of your brows, flutter of your curled lashes and quivering of your glistening lip. further coaxing you into finishing for your rewarded efforts of crudely grinding yourself against a willing kylar, and finish—you do. rumpled sheets laid askew in the desolate room itself, sticky seed spattering amongst the mattress’s extended space, but more importantly. . . covering the surface of his shorts like a candid trophy meant to be flaunted, which he won’t as this is meant to be only his to witness.

so maybe, the loner breathlessly lays there for a couple more minutes to savour the feel of your body nicely close to his—despite being unconscious of such. steals a glimpse downwards to where his cute, little cock lays untouched and pressed against the inward part of his thigh. doesn’t let himself chase any sort of release either because, in the most pervasive of ways, he finds it hotter that you’ve involuntarily neglected him of such an orgasm. let him silently leave once he’s done his part of satisfying your sleeping form underneath various blankets as though he was never was here, to begin with.

and maybe too, do you awaken in the morning with a noticeably apparent flush to stain the fullness of your cheeks. inwardly cursing at having another salacious, wet dream to be the barren cause as to why your briefs are now stupidly painted shear in your translucent cum. jolting upwards at robin’s curious head peering to the side from your door left ajar while claiming it’s nothing—you’ll be the one to clean this filthy mess and slip on your school uniform on time.

unbeknownst to the fact that the dark headed boy adds another stained shorts of his to his growing collection, disgustingly admires the sheen of your fat load now adorning the fabric of his clothes. sometimes wears them as though they’re a part of himself, too.

perhaps, he’ll make due to consequentially have your pulsating cock catch on the rim of his puffy hole next time and then, hold your dripping seed in his ass to school.

yeah, maybe. that’s an idea.

[v-line2gut]

Same vibes, different years

[catherine-sketches]

For the people saying that Jayce had no motivation to shot Viktor…

Did you not see the fucked up shit that Jayce is seeing?

My man went into the hexcore and saw horrors beyond his comprehension. He called hextech, HIS DREAM, a curse

When he looks at the people on the commune he sees hollow vessels with people faces and the marks of Viktor’s fingers

Jayce caved Viktor’s chest in because he KNEW that the pretty colors and the art deco architecture was a facade. That whatever Viktor is doing is stripping people from their true selves and leaving behind puppets that play a game called community where no one reacts like a normal person because no matter how good you life in your community is

NO ONE WOULD JUST STAND AND LOOK WHILE THE MAD HAMMER MAN NEARLY DISINTEGRATES WHAT LOOKS LIKE A CHILD TO ASHE

These are Zaunites. They would have curb stomped Jayce to the ground

But they didn’t

They stood there

Because their Machine Herald told them to “Suffer no more”

And what is fear, what is love, if not a form of suffering

[prouc]

Look at my doctor dawgggg

I’m going to die 😭😭

[cowboythewizard726]

BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALINNNNNNNNNNN!!!

[vellichorom]

you sick little animal, even death itself pities you.