#he is....big shy

[vilochkaaa]

I wanna see Clint in your style plsplsplsplspls

>^__^<

[ruporas]

thinking about wolfwood (ID in alt text)

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST] - [prev] I just want you to imagine Jaskier, very early post trial, mostly nonverbal, not in control of his strength yet being just such a creepy kid sometimes. (His parents still love him obviously.) I also have a feeling that Jaskier is subconsciously 100% stressed at all times and wants to do his absolute best to please his parents and make zero mistakes so that they won't send him away again. (They didn't and he knows that, but he is just a traumatized child.)

[all-lee24]

Young Malenia doodles + headcanons

((A.K.A Malenia as Miquella always sees her even after she grew up and became a fierce warrior))

[canisalbus]

Did Machete or Vasco ever commission portraits of each other? Can only imagine future historians scrutinizing the relationship they shared.

I'd like to think they did. Or perhaps more likely they commissioned a pair of self-portraits of themselves and then traded.

Moreover, I find the idea of them owning miniature portraits of each other really charming. They were small enough to fit in your pocket so you could carry one on your person if you wanted to, and more subtle and inconspicuous than having a larger scale portrait of someone on your wall.

[willowser]

bakugou carries his little newborn around on his bare chest in the kitchen for a bit and then when she starts to get fussy, he lays her down on the couch to swaddle her back up, and she reaches her little arms high above her head and you can hear him quietly hum and say, all fondly,

"oooh, big stretch,"

and his sleepy face is all soft and his lips are curved up just a bit and he waits until she's done before carefully wrapping her up 🥺🩷✨️

[mochinomnoms]

Cling azul clingy azul clingy azul. Kisses for azulito. Azulito deserves many kisses

BESITOS! MUCHÍSIMOS BESITOS, MUCHÍSIMOS PARA EL AZULITO MI AZULITO AZULITO AZULITO AAAAAAAAAAAAAA BESITOS BESOSBESOSBESO!!!!!!!! EL MERECE MI AMOR, MI CARIÑO, MI TODO LOS BESOS NO SON SUFICIENTE—

*ahem*

If you're like me, and insist on showering Azulito (he begs that you don't call him that in front of others, especially the twins) with kisses and kisses galore, you better commit to it!!

You better let him cling to you as you cuddle and smooch in his large bed, he's exhausted after a long day's work. He needs this, he needs to wrap his arms (just the two never seems enough sometimes) around you as you lay on his chest with his weighted blanked on top of you both.

Complain that it's heavy, but he insists if he's to take you back home that you start becoming accustomed to the pressure of the ocean and his 8 tentacles around you. No, you are legally obligated to spend at least one hour with him every day after 5pm per your relationship contact.

(Note that, it's not an actual contract. He's made very few since Leona destroyed his collection, saving them for emergencies and things of personal importance. He has one waiting for you to sign in the future, glittering gold with the words ENGAGEMENT CONTRACT on the top.)

For now, though, he demands that you let him indulge in your affections, exclusive to him (and maybe Grim). Leave lipstick marks on him, one specifically on his collar, Why are you so surprised? It's so that he can brag about getting such a wonderful, beautiful, enchanting, loving partner. Azul's so surprisingly affectionate in public, an arm wrapped around your waist so that his hand rests on your hip, rubbing any exposed skin there. He's bringing you closer, preening when you place a hand on his chest for stability. That's right, he's YOUR stability in this crazy world. He's delighted that everyone else can mope and stomp around, jealous as you place another kiss on his cheek. All these single-fucks can seethe and cry about how he, the Azul Ashengrotto, can show off his pretty eye-candy of his arm with a self-satisfied smirk.

You're his partner, his beloved, his his his! You, to be frank, had the opportunity to choose celebrities, princes, heirs, future kings. You had the cream of the crop, really. But none of them met your standards, only him! He wins! Ha! Ha ha ha! Now, let's go back to the bedroom, he's in need of your sweet embrace and would like to make out with his partner! HIS!!!

Ha, ha, HA!

[zappedbyzabka]

“Ralph’s ceremonial catcher is his costar, William Zabka!”

[woetoy]

you've heard of prince tumny rubs, but what about... PREGNANT prince tummy rubs 👀👀👀

[nectar-cellar]

4t3 Conversion: Littledica Soft Tummy Overlay (Accessory)

I really wanted to give my sims some soft bellies without removing all their muscle and vein definition.

To show the before-and-after effect, my sims in the pictures have the muscle definition slider set to 100%.

Details:

accessory (sock section) with custom thumbnail

for male sims only - the female body is uv-mapped a bit differently and I am lazy ok

this accessory layers on top of the skin, but underneath body hair

1 recolourable channel

3 presets from strong to medium opacity

texture blends in best with maxis match skins

TS4 original here

Matching the colour to your sim's skin tone exactly can be tricky, so you might have to switch between live mode and CAS a few times to get it right. You can see I left it a bit too light on Rainer in one of the pics butt fuck it

The ab muscle definition might still appear visible in CAS with this accessory on, but it will be covered up in live mode.

This accessory goes great with the torso mesh edits in my downloads btw 💋

Download: simfileshare / mega

[silusvesuius]

steer clear of ....the illigitimate child of... nvm

[cosmoseinfeld]

not the honest trailer for glass onion doing this omg

[lolobizarreadventuresshatpost]

[canisalbus]

Me? I am machete ear fan number 1. Those ears probably would be fun to fiddle with and scratch. Short periods tho, I dunno if M would get overstimmed easily

Time to get overstimmed.

[willowser]

i've never really put much thought into actual dragon dragon-king bakugou, but — what if —

you meet him for the first time in king todoroki's arena — on what you assume to be the last day of your life. over something menial like stealing a porkbun or something, and now his grace has decided that a trial-by-combat is a fitting punishment for you crimes.

only your opponent is a massive, hulking, fire-red dragon.

and you're not the only one thrown in there; a few other vagrants and miscreants, too, and they — stupidly — rush off to meet their own deaths as they try to strike him down with the blunt swords and dented shields you'd been thrown by the guards before they sealed you to your fate.

the dragon is chained up, of course, like a prized possession for the king. a large collar with inward curving spikes around his neck, which have worn scars into his scales, as well as some metal contraption around his maw to keep it shut. it doesn't hinder him useless, though, and when he tries to fly up and away from the amphitheater, the force of his wings sends you all rolling backward.

despite the fact that he's maiming people with the spines on his tail and bashing them into mush with the weight of his head — you can't help but to feel bad for him, trapped in an arena, put on display for people to taunt and laugh at. the chains look heavy, the muzzle tight; you wonder if his wings could even carry him anymore.

so you decide that the only way for you to live through this, if at all, is if you can manage to get this big boy off the ground.

while the other competitors fight the dragon for their lives, you instead rush for the chains that are nailed into the walls of the arena and smash at them with the rounded end of a shield. every time he jerks his head this way and that, or rears back on his legs, wings flapping wildly, the wall he's nailed to becomes looser and looser, starts to crumble and fall away.

and just as he turns to you — his last foe — it breaks free, and you swear, you swear, those big, red eyes of his narrow, brow furrowing, before he's jerking the chain twice. tugging it noisly, almost to get your attention.

you grab onto it just before he takes to the sky.

the rush of air is so cold and stinging that your eyes water, and you hold onto the lifeline as you're carried up and away from the kingdom, over the entirety of it, far enough that he can land safely without getting charged by the guards.

when you both hit ground, you think you're going to puke, especially as he stands tall and stretches his wings like he hasn't been able to for years — but instead of smashing you, too, to a clump in the grass, he only leans his head down to you, nudges you hard enough that you topple over.

you're still clinging to the shield and you use the edge on the nails of his muzzle, too, twisting them loose so that the iron falls away and he can stretch his jaw. show off his long, very sharp teeth that could easily tear you to bits.

and yet he doesn't. doesn't even try.

it'll be harder to get the collar off his neck, but he watches you with his slit eyes, brow arched menacingly, and nudges you to the long length of his neck. huffs until you're grabbing the spines and hauling yourself up onto him, like some kind of impossibly large horse.

and you continue on like that, for a bit; he finds a field of wild bulls and eats nearly all of them, maiming one for you before setting it aflame; you try to gather little shiny things for him, because you've heard dragons like treasure and you want to keep him, but he doesn't seem too interested; you have no family to return to, having grown up alone on the king's streets, and he becomes all you have.

you begin to feel like some chosen one from the fairytales you've heard spoken by firelight. the dragon bakugou stays with you, and the only reason you can fathom is that, maybe, he feels indebted to you — but you've saved one another, and that's what matters.

the night everything changes is when you're deep in the forest, camped up near the edge of a clear-water spring. the dragon bakugou grows lazy, curled around the perimeter of the water with his long neck and — he's a male dragon, you know, but you've got to wash yourself eventually.

you do feel a bit odd, undressing yourself as he watches, but you assume it's only out of plain and simple curiosity that he does; you assume that's why he does anything, for you, like allowing you to lay near his head when you sleep or huffing in your face until you laugh when you try to wrap your arms around his nose.

you try to pay him — an animal, a creature of fantasy — no mind as you dive below the surface, enjoying the refreshing rush of water over your skin. when you reach the bottom, tangle your hands in the gentle weeds, you feel a pang of sadness, that he might never experience such a feeling.

but when you return to the surface — he's gone.

in place at the water's edge is the collar you've never been able to loosen. rusted and creaking, looking much larger off his neck and alone in the grass, and your stomach lurches with a thousand horrible possibilities of what could have happened until —

"oi."

until you turn around and there is a massive, hulking man, naked as the day he came, with eyes the color of the scales that are dotted along his skin in stray patches. crowned in a mess of ashen hair, scars along his neck and face and arms—one of which is inked in some symbol you may have seen once. on those travellers, from the southern clans.

he, the man bakugou, you realize, has no concept of personal space — or the fact that he's totally naked and so are you — and he wastes no time in crowding into you. even rushing, a little, when you squeal and try to clamber back up the bank for your clothes.

like a stubborn boy, he pushes you into the dirt and even grins, evil and mischievous, with human teeth. you have no idea what to expect of him; men have never been too kind to you, afterall, someone without a home or family and easy to be rid of.

but he, the man bakugou, only nudges his face into yours, huffs against your cheek when you squirm, and you think, you think, you can hear some kind of quiet rumbling purr coming from the deep center of his chest.

[sososcareds]

whatre they talkin about....