#i never want to tag that many things again god.

[muqingslover]

[ Caleb canonically doing MC's laundry has set something off in my brain so here I am. Also, happy Valentine's day ! here's a longer one as a treat from me ;) I've been posting kinda of non-stop haha ] if you saw me post this before no you didn't

This has happened before. In fact, it had happened a few too many times for his sanity's sake. Whenever Caleb offered to do your laundry to be helpful he always had to deal with the strain in his pants that he pretended wasn't there by covering his lap with a magazine and thinking about literally anything else besides that tantalizing piece of fabric. He's been a good man, or at least he's always tried to be one for you. But was it really his fault if the situation was presented to him with a quite literally adorable little red bow?

Still, he has an admiring amount of self-restraint and for days he told himself he should give them back to you. Every time you two met he kept waiting for the moment to return it, clutching the fabric in his pocket, but all he received were reasons not to. Or perhaps, he just saw what he wanted to see. That's how a week turned into months and then the tortuous years without contact that drove him to the brink of insanity. Fighting back the urge to find you again and do everything his mind has fantasized about countless times was one of the hardest battles he ever faced, and that was saying something.

"Fuck..." He exhaled shakily. His head hit the wall behind him and he spread his legs further on the chair of his private quarters, keeping a firm hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It started after he found the old pair of panties that he had so carefully stored away and now all his mind had to offer were twisted fantasies. Caleb was in biiig trouble— He had to leave in less than fifteen minutes for a meeting and there were security officers constantly passing by his door, but he was past the stage that a simple cold shower and mental math equations would make the issue go away. The images of how the fabric would've adorned your curves in all the right places were soon followed by the memories of how sometimes he'd get a sneak peek when you bent over in front of him and gods that was the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

His metallic hand clutched the delicate fabric tighter as he trapped the lace between his teeth to force down another low groan when his palm began moving up and down again and the faint smell of your soap made his mind feel fuzzy. He was so sensitive that it ached to be touched— He was sure if this was your hand he'd have come on the spot the second your fingers brushed against him. Hell, if you breathed a bit too closely to his cock he'd fall apart like the pathetic man he is and he can only picture how your beautiful face would look covered with his cum. Can you blame him though? He's never even considered doing this with anyone else, nor will he ever do that, and his busy military life didn't leave much space for his own...moments.

He released the lace from his teeth and pressed the red fabric against his swollen tip, accidentally letting out a strained moan that was a bit too loud as his eyes rolled back into his head. He decided to quickly shut himself up by pushing his dog tag into his mouth to bite down on the metal, otherwise everyone outside his room would know just what the colonel was doing. Caleb imagined that the wet line his precum had made was because of your arousal for him instead. The way it would seep through the thin fabric and mark your pussy for him in such a filthy way. The way he'd lick along the damp spot and enjoy each and every sound that he'd surely drag out of your throat while he had your thighs around his head.

His hips jerked as he thrusted himself into his hand, into your panties, into you. The room filled with his barely contained ragged breathing as he hoped your pussy would be as much of a slippery mess as his cock was right now when he pushed past your slit, stretching you open so good yet so agonizingly slow. His grasp around his length was tight when the friction of the thin fabric against his dripping cock sent him over the edge and he came so hard his body twitched non-stop. His dog tag slipped from his lips, dangling around his neck again as he slumped back against the chair after his strength left his body momentarily.

His eyes landed on the red panties that were now coated in his thick, white cum and Caleb raised his hand to bring the messy cloth to his lips. He pushed his tongue out and licked along right at the middle where your soaked cunt would be, tasting his own release and wishing it was yours. It was a shame he had gotten such a pretty and precious thing dirty but, not to worry, he's always been good at cleaning up.

[buckysouvenir]

if i could fly

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n authors note: day nine!

the valentine’s day collection 2025: for the first 14 days of february, i’ll be posting a series of short stories inspired by songs, all centered around bucky barnes.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

Bucky Barnes, 1943

The air was thick with the scent of gunpowder and damp earth, the kind of smell that clung to his skin no matter how hard he tried to scrub it away. His uniform was heavy with sweat and dirt, the weight of war pressing down on his shoulders like an invisible chain. The world around him was chaos—bullets cutting through the air, men shouting orders, the distant sound of explosions rumbling through the ground beneath his boots.

But in his mind, he was somewhere else.

Somewhere quieter. Somewhere warmer. Somewhere where the only thing that mattered was the way you looked at him, like he was something more than just another soldier destined to be forgotten in the trenches.

If he could fly, he'd be coming right back home to you.

Bucky leaned against the cold wall of the makeshift barracks, letting his head rest back for just a moment, eyes fluttering shut as he pictured your face. He could almost feel the softness of your fingertips brushing against his skin, the warmth of your breath against his neck when you whispered his name in the dark.

God, he missed you.

He had never been good at words—never been the kind of man who could say all the things he wanted to say without them getting tangled up in his throat. But if you were here, if you could see the way his hands trembled when he held the letters you sent him, you’d know.

You’d know that you were the only thing keeping him sane.

You’d know that he carried you with him in every step he took, every battle he fought, every goddamn breath he took in a world that was doing its best to break him.

For your eyes only, he would show his heart.

The others saw Sergeant Barnes—the soldier, the sharpshooter, the man who never hesitated when it came to pulling the trigger. But with you, he was just Bucky.

With you, he could be something softer.

With you, he didn’t have to pretend he wasn’t afraid.

The war had taken so much from him already. He had seen men fall, had held brothers in his arms as they whispered their last words. He had felt the weight of loss so many times that he had started to wonder if he’d ever feel whole again.

But then, there was you.

The memory of you, the promise of you—waiting for him, believing in him, loving him despite all the parts of himself that he thought had been lost to the battlefield.

He exhaled, pressing his fingers to the dog tags around his neck. They were cold against his skin, grounding him in the present, in the reality of the war that raged around him.

But for now, just for a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to hold you again.

To hear your voice, to feel your arms around him, to let himself be selfish for once and ask you to never let go.

He had scars—ones that couldn’t be seen, wounds that no amount of bandages could ever heal. But when he thought of you, when he let himself believe that one day, this war would end and he’d find his way back to you, the pain faded.

Because you were home.

And if he could fly, he’d be in your arms by now.

[strandnreyes]

fuck it friday

thanks @mikibwrites ! I’m not entirely sure of the rules here, but I think you post something/anything from a wip? or not from a wip?? from anything! who knows!!

here’s something from a wip that’s existed for awhile but is picking up speed again

“I want things to feel normal for a little,” Carlos adds, mistaking TK’s jog down memory lane for something else. “Tell me about your day.”

TK can’t fault Carlos for that. He smiles in understanding and begins to talk. “Well, I cleaned out Lou’s terrarium.”

“Where did you keep him while it was being cleaned?”

TK rolls his eyes. “The shower. Relax.” TK kept Lou in the kitchen sink one time and now he’s never heard the end of it. Carlos chuckles and the sound is so good to hear. “And then I picked up some produce because we were almost out of a few things, took a ride on the bike, showered, and was pretty much just waiting for you to come home by that point.”

“Which instructor?”

“What?”

“What Peloton instructor did you use?” Carlos insists, and TK huffs, scraping along the bottom of his bowl.

“Jess.”

“Really?”

TK huffs again. “Yes!”

“Huh,” Carlos muses, looking cool as a cucumber as he takes another bite. “Your friend Ben must be missing you.”

“Oh my god,” TK mutters. “I do not have a crush on the Peloton guy.”

Carlos fixes him with a look. “You take a lot of rides with him,” he argues, and TK rolls his eyes.

“Not as many as I take with you,” he mutters, and then sighs. “They’re good for strength, babe. I’m a paramedic. I lift a lot with my legs.”

“Uh huh,” Carlos entertains. “It’s okay if you have a little crush, TK.”

“I do not—”

tagging @paperstorm @reyesstrand @welcometololaland @lightningboltreader @rmd-writes @emsprovisions @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @tellmegoodbye + open tag!!

[theylovevenus]

Yearbook Cover Photo with the Naruto Cast

[likesummerrainn]

All Out 09.06.24 // Collision 01.18.25

[cybertron-after-dark]

Being constantly surrounded by the presence of a loving God sounds great until you realize you never know when his freaky fuckin eyes are gonna show up to check on you.

And man. They do it a LOT.

[totheidiot]

i wish i could have some more coherent mikami thoughts for once but God, here is one: i think that mikami is more self righteous than light is. is that something.

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

god is swuarshing me beneath his thumb like i am an aphid or perhaps a clover mite. yeah. its slow and painful and im small. and also meek

[carlos-tk]

sometimes i can’t believe i was posting wips every single wednesday and sunday for literal months like who even was that person

[calciferstims]

tiktokers be like “I am going to create the most beautiful, relaxing, aesthetically pleasing video ever, with gorgeous lighting, and deeply satisfying content”. …….. “and then I’m going to cut the video fifty thousand times in thirty seconds-”

[krikeymate]

In the “billy parents the girls” au, I wonder how Sam and Billy would react to Tara being attacked by ghostface? Like one overprotective and “slightly” unstable family member wasn’t enough.

Somebody knows.

That's his first thought. Maybe he should have known something would happen on the 20th anniversary. He never thought it would come back to him. After all, there was a 'Ghostface attack' just five years prior, and it was all about Sidney. Why wouldn't it continue to be all about Sidney? Billy's dead after all.

He should have moved out of Woodsboro. It's always been risky, staying. But this was his home, and by the time he'd given up entertaining the thought of revenge against Sidney, he'd put down roots. He'd thought about moving a few years ago, when the last attacks happened and the police started sniffing around for information, but the girls had friends here, and Sam's never quite treated him the same since she learnt the truth. She would never have agreed to leave.

So here he is, staring Deputy Judy Hicks right in the face, unrecognised. God these people must be stupid, to look him right in the eyes and still not see him. He manages to talk his way back into the house with a well-placed quip about the absence of their good Sheriff and a reminder that his 14-year-old daughter, her own son's friend, who was attacked, is going to need some comforts of home and her inhaler.

He pauses to take in the murder scene on the way. He memorises the pattern of blood soaked into the living room carpet, the outline of his little girl, the kitchen knife abandoned on the floor. His own knife. They used his own knife on his daughter. When he finds out who did this, he's going to make them pay.

He packs a bag, he packs Tara's essentials, a change of clothes for Sam and the teddy bear she denies sleeping with. He heads for his own room to get some things, and that's when he learns somebody really does know.

Because Billy is scrawled across his bedroom wall in red.

Red is all he sees.

[mira0000000-blog]

Ugh..narrator...

[transgenderbuffoonery]

i love when my nervous system can’t tell the difference between waiting for an appointment and being chased by a man with a gun and a flamethrower

[whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go]

My parents got a new car and I honestly can't stand it. There are no buttons and dials and switches. There's no cd player and no radio either. Everything's digital and screens and Bluetooth. There isn't even a key to turn, it's all wireless and touchless and awful. I miss my dad's rusty blue pickup truck with its cd player and visible ventilation and falling down ceiling and all the dials and knobs and switches and buttons and DIALS!! DIALS!!!!

[djarinova]

trying to act normal over the fact that we're moving house next week. and failing

[critterchitters-closedcaptions]

trying to decipher if the overwhelming dread & Thoughts are cause of the state of the world or cause i need a shower.

vent post in the tags. idk. do whatever 👍