#but it got WAY away from me

[tallbluelady]

"what's wrong?" "your feet are cold!"

As a healer himself, Urianger understood Krile's desire to keep her patients in one place and for one more night, but with only curtains to separate the beds, it was hardly private in the Dawn's Respite. He groaned and opened his eyes when his thoughts would not release him to sleep. It was not the morrow, surely... he pulled back the curtain and tried to gauge the time of night. He saw it was dark enough to be deep within the night, save for a very soft light coming from Rowan's direction. He remembered that the earring her mother had given her had a faint glow to it due to the aetherial composition of the sand it was made from. Judging from the light's position, it appeared that Rowan was standing up with the object in one of her hands, the other on a curtain.

"Beloved, wherefore art thou awake?" he asked in a stage whisper.

Her large pale eyes grew wide, picking up the earring's glow in an almost eerie fashion. She pocketed the object before replying. "I... I couldn't sleep with all the thoughts I had. So I thought I'd check on all of you."

"Pray, come hither to avoid waking the others."

 He was uncertain if his ploy would work, but Urianger smiled as Rowan sighed and tiptoed to come see him. She sat on the chair next to his bed.

"There's not much to speak of, darling. Just thinking about... love I suppose."

"Then, pray think of such subjects in mine arms, my love. I can think of no better locale." He lifted the covers and patted the space next to him.

"Jey! We're not alone in here..." she hissed.

As if to make her point, one of their comrades coughed and muttered something unintelligible.

"I'm far too fatigued to pursue any amorous activity," he said truthfully. "Thou mayest return to thine own bed once I return to sleep."

"You know that's not how that works..." Rowan muttered as she closed the curtain then climbed into bed with him.

Urianger held the feeling of smug satisfaction until an icy chill touched his feet.

"What? Do you want me to leave?" she asked as he flinched.

"Nay... but from what source did thine extremities gain this precipitous chill?" He moved his feet away from hers.

She snorted. "The stone floor must be colder than I remember." Then she traced a toe down his shin.

He hissed at the sensation and Rowan covered her mouth to stifle the laughter. At Alisaie's command of quiet, he lifted the covers over their heads.

"I suppose twas fairly childish of me to do..." Rowan's voice still shook with laughter.

Urianger felt a few chuckles start to bubble up within himself, so he took Rowan's face in his hands and kissed her. "I love thee."

Rowan shook with a few more chuckles before asking, "Cold feet and all?"

"Mayhap our shared body heat will alleviate such things..."

At that, Rowan had to pinch her nose to keep from laughing.

[lowpolyshadow]

for all the people on this planet ... i promise you ...

[wispscribbles]

Do you think Ghost will just stick his face in Soap's hair to smell it

he likes his soap <3

[antigonenikk]

batman perhaps the most prodigious child abuser to ever live. no wife. no biological children of his own whose lives he could destroy (at first) so he got smart. hustled. took to the streets picking up and adopting orphans and then ruining each of their lives systematically. until ofc he got sick of them and threw them out for the next best model. he was flawless in his execution of it too. these kids still want daddys attention til this very day. even after he rocks their shit or kicks them out for the millionth time. these mfs are willing to KILL each other for a chance at being daddys favorite candy baby for a week. batman truly is a sick mf i understand why joker thinks they have a connection.

[solarpunkani]

You know what, while I'm doing hot takes. And this one may be obvious considering I'm actively contributing to hosting the Solarpunk Aesthetic Week event but like.

Dear everyone who's constantly deriding the aesthetic portions of the solarpunk movement/genre; do you just not understand that being able to visualize the future you want is immensely important to being able to work towards it? Being able to get other people on board with it?

When I first got interested in Solarpunk, it wasn't for the hot leftist takes about the top ways to dismantle the government for the people, or top tips on how to build your own solar panel apparatuses. What brought me in? Visions of a hopeful future. I learned and began to love the rest as I dove deeper into solarpunk circles, but there is no denying that my first intro to it--and likely many people's first intro to it--was via the art and aesthetic spheres. The term 'solarpunk' was literally coined to refer to the aesthetic movement, and we've been building up from there ever since.

'When are people going to realize the aesthetic parts don't matter and what really matters is praxis--' dude, the aesthetic parts do matter. Inspiring people does matter. Showing people visions of a hopeful future is immensely important, it's why so many people join this movement. We see glimpses of what a hopeful future could look like, through beautiful art or riveting stories, we're inspired by things like stained glass and organic designs and statues and fashion concepts--and then we think to ourselves 'how can we help make this future happen?' And we learn the praxis and we work towards the goals and we share it with others because that's just how we work.

Seeing isn't always believing, but sometimes in order to believe in something with your whole heart, it helps to be able to visualize what you want. For yourself and for others.

So yes. The aesthetic parts of solarpunk do matter. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

[purpleminte]

Sparkly AND Soft™

[chawliekin]

and if I said that dennis’ insistence on being the breadwinner/provider despite literally being a pampered princess who dgaf about traditional roles of masculinity in every other regard (aside from ego) is because his mom only stayed with/chose frank for his wealth and dennis is highly aware that he’s difficult to love and unable to show his emotions openly so he has to be contributing something to the relationship materially in order to feel like he’s worth staying for… and mac grew up with parents who were extremely ambivalent to him and eachother so he has to overcompensate by proving his worth at every given moment and seeking praise/validation from people (and religious icons) who will never demonstrate the same amount of dedication to him but he has no idea how else to desperately keep himself close to those he loves other than by eroding himself into something they’ll approve of… dear god they’re both exactly what the other needs — someone who can’t and won’t leave them even if they try — and they don’t even see it…

[katierosefun]

pyramid game is such a perfect little drama for the sapphics because you've got a whole demented psychological thriller going on about high school girls creating a whole fake social class system that results because one bored little princess bitch thought it'd be funny, and you've got all these dynamics that can only be boiled down to some kind of love story because like. ye lim and eun jeong's dynamic? the princess idol and her athlete bodyguard. soo ji and ja eun's dynamic? the cold mastermind and the compassionate heart. even whatever da yeon and seol ha have got going on? typical hitter and loyal dog dynamic. the list can go on.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Does

Does Barnaby

Does Barnaby tell the others to get off his lawn when he's angry

psh, who do you think he is, an old man? he'd Bark, like any lively young dog

[tommykinardkink]

Tommy manhandling Buck all over his apartment (casually picking him up because he can, wrestling him to pin him to the bed, Buck curling into Tommy and reaching for him and just needing to feel held, Tommy pressing him against counters and walls to kiss him until he's all weak and pleading)

Okay. So.

The first time it happens, Buck can't help letting out this surprised little squeak. Tommy's strong, he knows that. But Buck's a big guy, he's used to doing the manhandling.

So maybe Tommy stayed over the night before and now Buck is in the kitchen, peering into the fridge as he talks about what to have for breakfast. He's in a pair of sweatpants that sit low on his hips and his chest and feet are bare. And as tempting as that sight is, Tommy's eyes keep straying to Buck's ridiculous bed head and the way the sunshine streaming in from the windows catches in his curls.

Tommy can't help it. He needs to touch.

He goes round the kitchen counter and gently shuts the fridge. Buck's about to grumble—because, hello, hungry—but Tommy cuts him off with a kiss.

Alright, so maybe breakfast can wait.

And things are starting to get heated. Tommy uses his weight to press Buck back against the fridge and his hands have threaded themselves into Buck's hair. The contrast between the cold of the fridge and Tommy's big, warm body makes Buck shiver, and he wraps his arms around Tommy even more tightly, pressing right up close against him.

Tommy's hands begin to wander. They slip lower and lower until they're cupping Buck's ass, and he uses the grip to grind their hardening cocks together. It's a dizzying feeling and Tommy doesn't think before lifting Buck into his arms and carrying him the short distance to the kitchen counter.

"Shit," Buck squeaks, arms tightening around Tommy even further, and not letting go even after Tommy's set him down.

Oops.

"Was that okay?" Tommy asks breathlessly, pulling back as much as he can to check his expression. Buck's wrapped around him like an octopus, eyes wide and lips—pink and glistening and Tommy's thisclose to kissing him again—parted.

It takes Buck a few seconds to answer because... like. Wow. His brain needs a little time to reboot because this is a first that Buck hadn't ever anticipated. Because he's the one who sweeps the girl off her feet. He's the one who has to be mindful of his strength. He's the protector.

It's not the first time that Tommy's turned his world upside down. Buck hopes it won't be the last. He licks his lips as he meets Tommy's gaze.

"Do it again."

Tommy's smile is brighter than the early morning sunshine. It's impossible not to mirror the expression as Buck closes the distance between them again, tasting the joy on Tommy's lips as he kisses him.

It isn't long before Tommy's tugging Buck off the counter and shepherding him back towards the bedroom. He takes every opportunity to push Buck up against the walls and furniture, using his weight to keep him pinned while he luxuriates in the hungry little sounds Buck makes every time he does it. They make it up to the bedroom—each on their own two feet, those stairs are a goddamn death trap and they've both been to too many calls where some lothario has dropped his date on their head—and Buck is grinning, running his palms up and down Tommy's arms, squeezing.

And okay, fine, maybe Tommy's showing off a little bit, but so what? He hasn't missed the dazed, slightly awed, look Buck gets every time Tommy manoeuvres him just how he wants him. So as soon as the bed presses against the back of Buck's knees, Tommy pushes him down onto the mattress. He watches as Buck peers up at him from beneath his lashes, spreading his thighs to make room for Tommy between them.

This fucking kid is going to be the death of him. And what a way to go. So Tommy crawls up over Buck's sprawled out body and takes hold of his wrists, pinning them above his head.

Buck's buzzing, giggling as he gazes up at Tommy. He tests the strength of Tommy's grip and can't help but just marvel at how easily the other man holds him down. He knows that he can free himself if he wanted to, knows that it won't even be a fight because as soon as he says the word, Tommy will let go.

And for the first time, maybe since Abby, Buck feels... safe.

But he's distracted from the fluttering in his chest when Tommy begins to grind down against him, rutting against Buck through their sweatpants. He gasps, eyelashes fluttering, as pleasure flashes through him. It's instinct to pull against Tommy's grip, to try pulling him closer, but Tommy doesn't budge.

Fuck.

So he does the only thing he can. He wraps his legs around Tommy and arches his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. Tommy grunts above him, warm breath ghosting over Buck's already overheated skin as he picks up the pace, working them closer and closer to orgasm.

It's hot and sticky and kinda gross, and Tommy wouldn't trade it for anything. Tommy peppers kisses up the column of Buck's neck and along his jaw, loving how responsive he is, how he whines and bares his throat for him.

"Come for me, Evan. Come for me now."

He feels Buck shuddering against him, hears his panting breath, and he's so close that it's a kind of agony. But he wants to bear witness to this, to the beautiful way Buck comes undone.

Buck's eyes flutter open after a long moment, and he feels boneless and blissed out. He gazes up at Tommy, at the... fondness in his expression that never fails to make Buck's heart skip a beat. And then he realises—

"You didn't come?"

Tommy smiles ruefully, finally loosening his hold on Buck's wrists to brush an errant curl off Buck's forehead. "I was a little too busy watching you," he admits.

A blush creeps across Buck's face and he ducks his head. He isn't sure what to say to that, can't name the feelings blossoming inside his chest. He opens his mouth to protest because, seriously, he can't be the only one to get off. But Tommy hushes him and presses a kiss to his brow.

"Just let me hold you a little while, yeah?"

He can still feel Tommy's erection pressing into him and uncertainty nags at him. Is Tommy really okay with this? Tommy doesn't give Buck the chance to argue. He rolls over onto his side before pulling Buck along with him, arranging his limbs until he and Tommy are slotted together.

They fit perfectly.

It isn't long before sleep begins to tug at him. He snuggles deeper into Tommy's embrace, tucking his face into the crook of his shoulder and breathing him in.

He has this big, strong, gentle man in his arms, and maybe... maybe it's his turn to be taken care of.

[ryllen]

Hi! I hope that you are doing well🥰💗💕 I really adore your art!! Your Yuu really wins me over to the very heart!💘💘💘

I wear lightning-shaped earrings and they really remind me of Sebek!⚡ I would like your girl to put them on and draw this🥺💓

But I also really love her black earrings that she wears when she's a teenager and green ones when she's an adult! It's really cute💕💕

And! I would be interested to know if Sebek notices when Yuu puts on other earrings or doesn't wear them at all if she doesn't want to?👉👈💗

Have a nice day!🥰❣️❣️❣️

decide ur ending, which feels more in character

[tricoufamily]

if you're wondering why bob is here it's bc in the original villareal story there was a very minor background detail that diego lobo and bob pancakes dated in college and broke up tragically and that's where the story peaked. so i included him it's still canon

thank you for these it was so fun!!!!!!!!!!!!

i did these in my this is the fall sim style so i'm thinking. if they exist in this universe what's all their opinions on the 'did jacques do it' situation. let's take a look

don: saw a photo of jacques's wife on the news during the investigation. said "whoa mama that's a hot babe!" like johnny bravo and did not read the headline. does not know anything about it still.

vlad: well he's psychic he could figure out the truth if he actually cared. and he has!

olive: obviously respects it. except for the getting investigated part, would never happen to her.

diego: does not think jacques did it but enjoys the tabloids. knows other rich people personally who he thinks have killed their spouses

morgyn: will post things like "friendly reminder that j*cques v*llareal literally killed his wife and is a billionaire so maybe don't go to one of their hotels" on tumblr and will then do a call out post about like a fanfic writer who wrote an unhealthy relationship with more severity

pascal: knows conspiracy theories and this one is bullshit. or maybe it just doesn't interest him as much as aliens and that's why he thinks that

jeb: has a very "well of course he did. them rich folk can do whatever they want. there ain't no hope for the rest of us" while kicking a can down the road approach

bob: thinks he did it. is very alarmed that it was brushed off. eliza's like bob book the hotel and he's like am i going crazy. does anyone hear me.

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the absolute best things about the bros is that they just. Play. They play around like the teens they are, playing ball, or video games, or anything else. They just play and have fun together, genuinely enjoying each other’s company. I dunno, I just appreciate how easy it is for them to mess around and be kids.

[introspectivememories]

sorry but do you ever think about the fact that the bernard we have today is a direct amalgamation of everything that happened in his past and i know that sound like such an obvious statement to say but it actually kills me to know that you can draw a direct line from who he is today all the way back to that sixteen year old boy who watched his best friend bleed out. like it is the defining moment in his life. it fundamentally shaped who he is and the person he's become. he is the bernard we know and love not despite the grieves shooting but because of it. because the gangs all got together and shot up his school. because tim walked out of that room with nothing but a baseball bat. because his darla got shot. because he watched her gasp and cry as she died. because he watched the blood coagulate around the wound. because he sat there and held her hand as her life drained out of her. because he walked into school that day with a joke he knew would make her laugh and her nose would scrunch up and she'd snort a little and tim would roll his eyes at him and call him ridiculous and instead he walked out with a bloody white shirt, blood under his fingernails, and two friends less. because, even now, almost half a decade out from the shooting, he thinks that if he closes his eyes, he will always be that stupid, scared little sixteen year old, holding the cooling body of dead best friend.

[murdockcastleslut]

Can I request a Benedict fic based on enchanted by Taylor swift?!

omg this is so fun! this is kinda be what should be around season 4! i know they have a masquerade party i don't anything about the plot of the plot so this is just my imagination! hope you like it! | info about request here!

violet bridgerton has out down herself with her enchanted forest masquerade ball, a theme requested by her youngest hyacinth.

florals, woodwork, and vines covered the bridgerton home. guests entered in florals and pastels their faces covered with masks.

this ball was so full you couldn't turn around without the possibility of bumping into another person.

you were having fun dancing and conversing with guests whom also decided to join in on the festivities.

though dude to the number of people attending and the fact that although lovely your gown was very tight. you move through the home hoping to find a place to catch you breath.

you stumbled up on the empty drawing room and a man admiring the paintings among them.

"oh im sorry to interrupt." you say noticing him.

he turns to face you. his light blue eyes shine bright contrasted against his dark blue mask.

"no, no, not all. just admiring my families paintings. i never quite noticed how detailed they were." he smiles towards you.

your eyes widen as you realized who you were talking to, benedict brigderton.

"are you alright?" he asks concern.

you snap put of it and shyly nod.

"oh yes, i am sorry. i just needed a second from the party, although lovely it is quiet hot with the amount of people attending tonight. your mama must be quiet proud." you smiled.

"oh yes she is," he nodded. "please have a seat if you need."

"oh thank you."

"do you like art?"

"i do. i paint. my papa was kind enough to allow to have lessons and teach me about different artist. do you paint?"

"i dabble, though i think i might be better at sketching."

"do you have favorite thing to sketch?"

"people, whist their unaware preferably, there is something about people when then don't think anyone is paying attention them."

you smiled at his answer. he was quiet interesting, there was something about him you couldn't explain that pulled you in.

the two of you chatted about whatever came your minds and it felt like no time had passed at all.

the sound of clock stricking the next hour is what drew you out of you trance. you realized you had been talking for almost fort-five minutes. you quickly stood.

"i am so sorry, i hadn't relized so much time had passed. my mama must be looking for me. i do hope to see you again." you nervously rushed.

he stood up and smiled. he took your hand and laid a kiss on your covered knuckles.

"i was enchanted to meet you. i hope to see you again as well." he smiles looking at you with those blue eyes.

that night, the two of you laid in you respective bedrooms counting down the moments til you could see one another again.

[sleepy-steve]

🧠🪱 Wiggly Wednesday Thursday 🧠 🪱

thank you for tagging me @stervrucht 🖤

no pressure tags: @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @stevesbipanic and of course anyone else that would like to ♡

thinking about Steve and Eddie who, after going through rounds of physical therapy after everything, continue to work out together because Steve obviously loves it and loves having a friend to work out with. and Eddie notices the difference in his stamina when he gets back to performing on stage. (and if Eddie likes to watch Steve work out a little bit, and likes Steve coming over to help his form more than a little bit, well that’s his business.) but Steve takes a dance class and shakes up his usual warmup, leaving Eddie with some… thoughts.

***

“Okay, Munson,” Steve says, pulling his arm across his body for a shoulder stretch. “You ready?”

“Ready to be tortured? Always,” Eddie jokes. It was their thing. Eddie acts like he hates being there, but he still shows up every other day to their local gym in Indianapolis. And he won’t ever deny the benefits he’s noticed since starting their exercise regime. He's faster on stage, doesn't get winded near as easily, holding those screaming notes without feeling like his lungs will explode. Little did he know that today his joke would come to be true.

Steve liked most kinds of exercise. He was a sporty guy. He liked the pull and stretch of his muscles, the feeling of accomplishment after achieving a new goal, that delicious soreness the day after a really good workout. But mostly he loved trying new things. He’d give anything half a chance if he thought it might be fun. Which is how he ended up at a dance-aerobics class the week prior, finding himself having a lot of fun, blushing furiously when the women in the class complimented how quickly he picks up the steps.

He went back three more times that week. Part of his enjoyment came from the new warmup he was taught in the class. Steve’s usual warmup consisted of basic stretches and a light jog, covering all bases to ensure he didn’t get injured, but not very exciting.

This, however, was far more enjoyable. Steve found himself sinking deep into stretches he didn't know he had flexibility for, and moving his hips to a beat, ultimately just having way more fun with the warmup. And it was about to become a huge problem for Eddie.

Steve pops his headphones over his ears, the tape deck tucked securely in his shorts pocket. He bends over, inhaling deeply as the song starts, rising up with his hands overhead, exhaling as he rolls his wrists, hips moving side to side with the beat. His already short cropped t-shirt rises, showing off a good amount of his chest. He lets his arms come down, bending over again, feeling the pull in his hamstrings. Gripping his elbows, he lets the top half of his body hang, swinging from side to side, his hamstrings fully stretched out.

Eddie looks up from his own basic stretching, shocked to see Steve fully bent over, because hey, since when was he so flexible? With Metallica blaring through his own headphones, Eddie just stares, completely forgetting where he was at in his warmup.

Steve lets his hands drop, moving to one foot, back to the centre, then the other foot. Ass just up in the air, his shorts way too tight. Eddie swallows. He’d been denying his crush for months at this point, and good god this was not helping.

Rolling his shoulders as he stands up, Steve lets his hands travel down his bare thighs, sinking into a squat with his back arched and head tilted back. Eddie's eyes are wide as he watches those tight little shorts with the little cut-ins on the sides ride up, showing far more of Steve's glorious hairy thighs than Eddie can handle. Steve drops his head forward, hunching his shoulders as he moves back to standing. He repeats the motions, and Eddie wishes he had the strength to pull his stare away from Steve's ass.

Seeing Steve's head tilted back and his back arched is sending Eddie insane. Like, he geninely thinks he might evaporate on the spot if he keeps watching. But he just can't look away.

Turning himself sideways, Steve has one foot stepped out in front of the other, legs perfectly straightened into a triangle shape, bent over his front leg. Just when Eddie thinks he’s about to get up and end his suffering, Steve lowers himself down into a lunge. His little shorts definitely way too small and tight for the movement, Steve lunges back and forth, fingertips resting on the ground on either side of his front foot. Eddie watches as the t-shirt rides up with each lunge, the desire to get his lips and tongue all over Steve's chest overwhelming him.

Shaking himself, Eddie tries to remember which shoulder stretch he was up to. He attempts something close to a stretch, but he can’t be sure he's doing it right, because Steve has lowered himself to the ground, front leg bent and back leg perfectly straight, and is fucking thrusting into the ground. If he were to ask Steve, he’d find out this was a hip flexor stretch. But Eddie’s forgotten how to form words entirely, suddenly imagining nineteen different ways he wants to get dicked down by the man before him.

Eddie suffers in silence, heart racing in his chest, watching as Steve repeats the movements on his other side. He prays that the torture ends soon, that they can just get to the workout, and Eddie can go back to pretending he doesn't want to ride Steve until his thighs give out. But Eddie gets no such luck.

Steve has moved into some kind of triangle position, hands on the ground, legs straight, and of fucking course, his ass in the air. Eddie marvels at how straight the shape is, only for a moment, because then Steve is lifting his heels up and down in turn, and jesus christ those tiny little shorts are just riding up, and Eddie can see a hint of Steve's ass peeking out. His jaw drops. He may actually explode.

Just when Eddie's thinking he can't take much more of this, Steve lowers himself down, knees spread wide, arms stretched out in front of him and head tucked down. A wild and rushed series of thoughts fly across Eddie's mind, all centred around Steve kneeling down in front of him. Eddie needs to get it together quickly.

As Steve brings himself back up to the triangle position, walking his feet to meet his hands and rolling his spine up, shoulders and head rolling back last, he sees Eddie taking off for his warmup jog. Assuming that he probably just took too long with his new warmup, Steve shrugs it off and starts his jog shortly after.

Eddie hits his personal best in several weights that day, desperately trying to expend his excess energy in some way. He barely registers the wins, mind still stuck on Steve and his perfect ass in all those new positions. He almost dissolves on the spot when Steve claps him on the shoulder in congratuations.

At the end of their session, Eddie takes a freezing cold shower and prays for the sweet release of death.