#love that in a fictional man

[full-time-femboy]

I NEED TO KNOW!?!?!

Plz explain ur answer in the tags

This is for research

Plz reblog for larger sample size

[edwardbonnets]

rook: *obvious flirting* emmrich: 😲😲😲🤯🤯🤯😳😳😳??????????

bonus:

[johnnyspells]

"So all cholesterol is good. Change is absolutely necessary. And whatever you said about hot lady summer, it sounded like you kind of had it figured out."

[prodotsukare]

Sam w his tits out because i didn't post it anywhere else

[kruegerspillow]

thinking about desperate simon coming home from an extended deployment, and he's just all soft and kind with you during an intimate moment :(

MINORS DNI, NSFW BELOW THE CUT ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

"Bloody 'ell, look at me, love."

His voice came out raspy, breathless, and desperate for you. His breath catched in his throat as his eyes bore into yours, watching your every move as he thrusted into you. Your mewls were followed by the sound of the bed, with every movement he made, the bed creaked beneath the both of you. He groaned, one of his hands shakily reaching up to cup your cheeks.

"Look at me, yeah? C'mon, you can do that f'me, can't ya?" He grunted, his voice low and almost careful.

You turned your head as you met his intense gaze, his dark, amber eyes looking down at you with an overwhelming intensity. He moaned, murmuring a bunch of praises before devouring your mouth fully. His tongue eagerly but softly danced with yours, saliva mixing and dripping down your chin without a care in the world. You could feel him twitch inside of you, indicating that he's close. He pulled away from the kiss, his chest rising up and down with every breath.

"Lovie, 'm close. Please come with me. You will, righ'? Like a good girl..."

His praises echoed inside your head when you let out a small moan, hips bucking up in an erratic rhythm. His eyes closed shut before he buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he spilled his load inside of you. Your juices splattered against his lower abdomen. The noises you made mixed with his, hearing the way he groaned your name out before tipping right over the edge. His thrusts slowed down to an end, cock softening before he laid on top of you, making sure you weren't entirely crushed by his weight. His head laid on your chest, hearing the way your heartbeat quickened.

"Fuck, I missed ya... God, why'd they have to separate us for this long?"

kruegerspillow © 2024 — reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[anyataylorjoys]

VAN HELSING —2004, written by Stephen Sommers

[misandriste]

ELOISE BRIDGERTON + being mistaken for a suitor

[spirk-trek]

Georgia Schmidt, Carole Shelyne, Serena Sande, Meg Wyllie, & Sandra Lee Gimpel

A tribute to some lesser-known women of Star Trek :)

[delhe-dalim]

Oh Mayday... Warm colors cuz he deserves some warmth 🥹

[junocornkiwi]

~Let me recite their demise~

i am so happy i'm still superhyperfixated on this man y'all have no idea

i love him <3 nothing can change it

oof i've been drawing this in cmyk and did A LOT to make it look as it should after saving

[salemsclowncorner]

Yall. Janus shedding has been canonized

A million fanfic authors just jumped for joy.

[ofbatsandballads]

darling, won’t you take me home?

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: reader has a mild cold, but nothing much else (lmk if I missed anything)

a/n: this is just a lighthearted sick fic that got real prose-y at the end bc I was listening to my Jason playlist and got all in my feelings while drowsy off cold medicine. again, i give thee my wares.

divider credit: saradika-graphics

You wake to soft light filtering in through the white curtains of your bedroom and the warm weight of your lover’s arm across your waist. The quiet snores echoing in the air and the soothing rise and fall of his chest against your back would usually be enough to lull you into a gentle morning sleep. But usually you can breathe out of both sides of your nose. And you usually don’t feel like there’s sandpaper in your throat. And your body doesn’t usually feel this heavy.

Goddamn it–you’re sick.

You feel a sneeze coming on and try to stifle it, to keep it locked tight in your lungs so you won’t wake the love of your life from the rare bit of peace and quiet he gets. You make no noise, but the shaking of your body stirs him anyway. Damn vigilantes and their preternatural awareness. He hums lazily as he pulls you further into his chest. You think he might be able to doze back off and you’re glad for it. Then your hopes are dashed. One, two, three sneezes wrack your body in succession and you are finally forced to admit defeat.

“Are you sneezing?” Jason asks, groggy but inquiring.

“…no.”

You don’t even know why you tried to lie to him. You’re a bad liar in most cases, and an absolutely abysmal liar when it comes to Jason. He simply sighs and you’d bet twenty dollars that he’s rolling those pretty seafoam eyes of his. He easily turns you in his arms so that you’re facing him. Great, now you really won’t be able to lie to him.

“I told ya that you were gettin’ sick,” he scolds gently.

“‘M not sick!”

He did. And you are.

“Then why do you sound like the Swedish Chef from the Muppets?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

He tries to keep his face serious, but soon the facade cracks and he lets out a deep belly laugh as you glare at him. You push yourself out of his arms and make it as far as the edge of the bed before he’s pulling you back to him again.

“Aw, c’mon, ma. Don’t be mad. You are sick. Just admit it,” he says, voice kind as he runs his hand up and down your spine.

“Okay. Fine. Whatever,” you mumble, your words trailing off unintelligibly.

Jason doesn’t miss it. He never does. Fucking vigilantes and their fine tuned hearing.

“What was that?” he smirks.

You whisper it again, quiet as a mouse. He shakes his head. You smack him in the chest.

“Ah ah, I wanna hear it,” he laughs.

“I said you were right! There! You happy now?” you pout, burying your head in his chest.

You can feel the giggles travel through his body and find it impossible to fight the smile it brings to your face, even if your head feels foggier than Gotham after a heavy rain. You squeeze him tight, a sudden aggressive love for him that you just need to let out. It does nothing to his strong frame. He just squeezes you back, then manhandles your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He rises from your bed like you weigh nothing to him, hefting you into the air so that you’re better positioned.

“C’mon, we’re makin’ soup.”

One thing about Jason Todd is that he’s an amazing cook. He didn’t cook much for himself before he met you. He’s told you he didn’t see any point when cheap takeout would fuel his body just fine for whatever fight was inevitably coming for him. But now he has both the reason and the time to care. And he cares. So much.

You can see it in the way he sets the chicken to bake while he tells you about the new book he got from the bookstore down the block. You can see it in the way his skilled hands, calloused and bruised, slice the carrots razor thin because he knows you hate the crunch of them. You can see it in the barely noticeable look of pride on his face as all the ingredients simmer in the big metal pot, giving your shared home a warm aroma of comfort. You can see it in the fact that everything he needed for this was already in your kitchen, in the fact that none of it was there when you fell asleep last night while he was on patrol. Jason cares. He cares from the tip of the stubborn curl that sticks up on the top of his head to the soles of his feet that guide you in a slow waltz around the kitchen.

“I know you probably aren’t too hungry, but I need you to try to eat at least one bowl for me,” he says in his gentlest negotiation voice as he puts a bowl of chicken noodle soup on the counter.

You nod your head that’s tucked against his chest, sniffling as you feel your nose start to run. Without missing a beat, Jason pulls a tissue from the pocket of his pajama pants and hands it to you.

“And you’re takin’ cold medicine the second you get some food in you.”

He’s not asking anymore, just stating facts.

“Gonna stay up all night watching me too?” you ask teasingly.

“I might,” he retorts.

“I love you too, Jay.”

He goes rigid momentarily before he relaxes against you. Then a soft smile breaks out on his face. He chuckles and shakes his head, turning his face away from you. But you can be observant too. You don’t miss the way pink dusts his cheeks and, oh, he looks so pretty like this. You tell him as much just to watch the soft pink turn to vibrant red.

“Shut up and eat your soup.”

One bowl of soup and a disgusting shot of cold medicine later, you find yourself wrapped in the arms of your lover as you both lounge on the couch. Jason reads the new book he was telling you about as you listen to music, dozing in and out of consciousness. It’s not your fault he makes such a great pillow; his large body is warm and soft as he lies relaxed on your sofa. Every now and then, especially when he thinks you’ve fallen into a light sleep, he’ll place a featherlight kiss on the top of your head.

You may not be a vigilante or The World’s Greatest Detective, but you can put all the pieces of the day together well enough. Carrying you out of bed, making you soup, letting you rest on him, the soft kisses and touches he flutters over your skin; it’s all his way of saying he loves you when the words themselves are simply too much or not enough. But the words are enough for you. You swear that you’ll go to your grave finding all the prettiest ways to tell him just how much you love him. Because you do.

And maybe it’s the homemade soup settled in your belly, or the afternoon sunlight shining through the window, or the warmth of the man you love beneath you, but you soon find yourself lulled into a peaceful sleep that feels just like home.

[theoutcastrogue]

Hey, we've seen some fantastic animated series lately. If you haven't already, run right now and check out

Arcane

Blue Eye Samurai

Scavengers Reign

Chainsaw Man

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners

Tear Along the Dotted Line

Love Death + Robots

Arcane and Blue Eye Samurai compete for the best animated series I've ever seen, of all time, and they're both ongoing. That's wild. What gorgeous animation. Scavengers Reign is a wonderful sci-fi series that's actually original, and I'm sad to say that's a rarity. It shouldn't be! I'll let you discover the rest. Just a reminder that Love Death + Robots is an anthology, and as usually this entails hits and misses. But the hits are SO good.

Other good series that are not groundbreaking or anything in terms of animation (which is generally on purpose: most of them aim to emulate a specific established style, and succeed), but they still get the job done, and are fun to watch:

Castlevania (and Castlevania: Nocturne)

Star Trek: Lower Decks

Invincible

The Legend of Vox Machina

Dragon Age: Absolution

Good stuff!

[zu-is-here]

Selfish request of Dreammare pls ?

Pygmalion

idea by @clownyclowns

Dream & Nightmare by jokublog

+ the perfect finger sketch :'D

[robo-writing]

Inspired by this post from @logansbaby

Lumberjack! Logan but it’s this version—older, wiser beyond his years and then some, still that rambunctious young man at heart but when your age grows, so does your patience. While his lines may be deeper and his hair might be ashen, he’s still every bit the man you fell in love with.

Just you, him, and the home he’s built for the both of you.

It’s quiet, peaceful, surrounded by the sounds of nature, the hum of the wind passing through the leaves. He’s got a warm fireplace for the winter, but that ain’t enough for him, no, how else is he gonna stay warm?

Gotta stay warm, darling. Wouldn’t want your old man to freeze to death, would ya?

So it’s then that Logan enjoys the advantages of secluded living—no neighbors to call a noise complaint when he’s got you on his lap.

The fireplace lights your skin with an amber glow, casting your features in such a pretty light, the sight of you leaving him in awe. His fingertips dance against your supple flesh, admiring, but not leading. He’d rather watch you do the work, enjoying how you tremble with each bounce of your hips, holding onto his shoulders for dear life. A small part of him almost takes pity on you, fingertips burning with greed as they close against your hips.

It would be so easy to take control, have you boneless and crying on his cock—it’s what he would’ve done when he was younger. It would be so easy, he thinks to himself, allowing himself this one moment of weakness, thrusting up into you when your hips fall. One experimental thrust upward, and you seize up, your lips forming a small “o” before moaning his name just how he likes it.

it would be so easy, he thinks to himself as your entire being arches, exposes itself to him. It would be so easy—

—but then it wouldn’t be nearly as fun now, would it?

He wouldn’t be able to see you shakily recover, wouldn’t feel your nails scratch at his shoulders, wouldn’t feel how you take a shaky little breath before continuing your languid pace. He wouldn’t have the pleasure to feel your pussy twitch against his length, to feel you shake with increasing need.

So, no matter how many times you beg him to fuck you properly, he won’t. Even when you kiss him so sweetly it reminds him of your nickname, honey, he won’t indulge in the saccarine temptation that is you.

No, he’d much rather you sit all nice and pretty and warm his cock like a good girl.

Logan may be older now, but he’s still the same man that loves watching his girl.

[homosekularnost]

god a kingdom for thiagos pov of network effect honestly

>pov your SIL went through a traumatic experience and is now icing you out and giving up on her career and you think this all might be due to her new friend

>this friend btw seems to Hate Your Ass. just fully is not talking to you or around you its just grimacing its way around your house

>you still have to take it on a mission with you even though it keeps calling people tArGeTs and just bringing an overall weird vibe to your normal safe research mission

>ok so it turns out it wasnt that safe of a mission AND it takes a bullet for you bc you werent listening. if you ever get out of this hostage situation ayda will have your head

>brb it had to save everyones lives AGAIN

>also oh god it was trying to get mensah to talk to a therapist this whole time. youre such an idiot

>at least it likes your translation app idk