#i restrained him

[primalvessel]

@confluxium because reasons

Kugane was spread before them, descending towards the sea with its colourful array of places and peoples; a sight that Maru would never tire of. The port city might be a far cry from the heat and the deserts that were his favourites and yet still he found himself drawn to the place - not in the least because of its hot springs.

Good things came to those who waited though and though it earned him something of an affectionate sigh from the Hyur, Maru insisted that they first walk the markets.

He was of a mind to see his love in a yukata and to that end, he intended to browse the stalls until he laid eyes on one Firi might look good in and of course they couldn't peruse the markets without some of the local delicacies in hand to munch on while they meandered.

While he was quite partial to the grilled sweetfish himself, he settled for the tempura platter that they might pick at it while they walked.

His goal though, was always going to be the hot springs.

With their purchases deposited at the inn (including the yukata he would insist his love wear later), Maru had all but dragged Safiri to the hot springs with an enthusiasm not often seen in him even considering his usually energetic and jovial nature.

"Look," he insisted as he refused to relinquish his grip on Safiri's hand even with how close they were to the springs, "how often is it that we get to do something like this? And you've not had the pleasure of my company while you're here before, so... You could have been here two dozen times already and I'd still be this eager to be here with you."

And with ears up and a flick of his tail, he led the way into the springs.

Once they'd cleaned the grime of the day from their bodies, it was time to slip into the heated waters of the springs proper and thankfully the space wasn't very busy. With a glance back at Safiri to be sure that the Hyur was remaining close, Maru chose a spot that overlooked the ocean and settled into the hot waters with a content sigh.

As soon as Firi was seated next to him, the Miqo'te scooted in against his side and rested his head against the Hyur's shoulder, basking in the simple contact. "Finally," he rumbled softly, inhaling deeply of the steam that rose from the water and he rubbed his cheek lightly against his lover's shoulder. "You have no idea how for how long I've wanted to do this."

"And is it everything you had hoped it would be?"

"Of course," the feline replied, despite - or perhaps because of - the simple domesticity of it. "There's nothing quite like the thrill of fighting at your side but this...? This is quiet and normal and the gods know you've earned the respite. And if it also happens to be one of my favourite things to do while in Kugane, then so much the better."

He gave the Hyur a playful little splash and shifted then, glancing at the few other occupants of springs for but a moment before he moved to sit sideways in Safiri's lap. A fleeting kiss pressed to the stubbled jaw and the Miqo'te settled comfortably, touching as much as he could without making a spectacle of himself and he was rewarded by Firi's arms winding around him.

"There is nowhere I would rather be."

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[aledethanlast]

For the last time Neil is not oblivious he's just so busy playing 5d chess with everyone he meets that the concept of regular chess baffles and bores him. Matt what do you mean I should hook up with a cheerleader can't you see I'm busy waging psychological warfare on a Frenchman.

[pangur-and-grim]

Belphie is such an interesting kitten, compared to the other two.

baby Grim presented some challenges, because she loved to destroy property (mostly climbing various shelves and mantles and knocking everything she could to the floor), she was mildly aggressive toward Marmaduke the family cat (she felt that at the ripe age of 4 months, she deserved to be king), and she was fairly aloof for a kitten, more into running about than cuddling. in most ways, she was like a tiny mafia boss.

Pangur I instantly soul-bonded with, because she was so sickly and pathetic. and neurotic, too - everything was scary to her, people, places and animals. she’d explore the house and play, but there was always an ‘expecting an eagle to swoop down and grab her’ energy.

now Belphie! he’s a healthy active boy with zero fear, and zero aggression, but (fortunately or unfortunately) someone cranked his Play button to maximum and then broke off the handle. he is either fast asleep, and the cutest kitten on earth, or racing about and flailing and climbing and pouncing. which means that he can’t be let outside the kitten room unsupervised yet, because his baby willpower is only so strong, and he will eventually break and start jumping on Pangur and Grim. so in a way, he’s the healthiest happiest cat I’ve ever had, but he’s also the most complicated, because he still has to spend most of his time jailed in the kitten room.

[ruporas]

happiness today and tomorrow (ID in alt)

[whumpypepsigal]

…… for science ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[whoopsitswincest]

Okay hear me out

THIS dean -

- with THIS Sam

[izzystizzys]

There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.

Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.

“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.

“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”

“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.

He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.

“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.

“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”

“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”

“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”

“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”

“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”

It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.

“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”

Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”

“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.

[daftpatience]

the things im doing to lupin in my head

[avephelis]

sometimes i think about niklaus's deals with albatrio and im forever baffled by his whorish tendencies like oooh gillion twirling his hair you're sooo submissive to destiny oh jay you're so smart let me wear my slutty pirate outfit and lean back pussy out. whatever the fuck was going on when he showed up in just robes swirling a glass of wine and then showed chip his drapes and gave him a tramp stamp. girl leave them alone. get a job. i don't like him.

[eggwishing]

short & stout rose And awkward and gangly dave >>>> i think rose would move with a ferocity like she could accidwntally bump her elbow onto the corner of a table and the table would crumble . dave posture’d be so rigid that he’d fall like a tree and shatter like glass from a light breeze

[weirdglassthing]

*looks at the camera*

Could Derek, Mikey, and Andy have rolled any worse?

Idk why their horrible initiatives in a random episode stood out to me but it was funny so I drew it

[elizakai]

Reminder that Dreamtale Twins are canonically sexless beings who identify with male pronouns.

yk what that means troops~💫

[liauditore]

this mf really took one look at the etho situation this season and went obsessed?? let me show you obsessed and i appreciate that

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love how Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse said “Anyone can be Spider-Man”. I love how it inspired everyone to imagine their own Spider-People, saving the day in their own universes, with all kinds of cool, interesting personalities and aesthetics and mutations and life stories and relationships. We all put pieces of our soul into these homemade heroes. We had fun. We found community. And then Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse said, “Wow, great job! You’ve really taken our message to heart. Well, get ready for even more of everything you liked from the first movie and a new message to complement the first. Anyone can be Spider-Man… and anyone can be pulled into a cult.”

So now we all have to contemplate whether our lovingly crafted heroes would ever be on Team Mandatory Trauma Because Martyr Complex or not and why.

[lambmotifz]

sam isn’t an alpha, he’s a feral, rebellious omega. you know this stereotype that all omegas are sexually passive and naturally submissive? sam never fitted into the ideal omega image and he only willingly submits to his mate (dean), no one else