#sorry it's a little rushed :/

[took-my-breath-away]

art idea: icemav in the stands at one of bradley’s baseball games (elementary, middle, or high school — i feel like he played for a while). i would love to see them in baseball caps, cheering, with sodas and hot dogs and the whole nine yards.

i love icemav doing different activities (especially on romcom esque dates), so if that jogs anything either, i’d love to see it! thanks for making such great art.

he struggled for months to hit it right, nerves wracking through him.

but this time he waited... for the right moment. it finally came.

[hoodedjelly]

the birthday twins <3

[nipuni]

Casanova sketches!

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141!(Part 5)

The shithead owner decides that he needs to sign up for a "restaurant renovation" show. Chaos ensues.

"A fucking TV show?"

Gaz frowns while polishing glasses.

"Told him it was a bad idea."

Price shrugs, lighting a cigar. You are horrified, being on the screen for millions of people to see was nerve wracking. And it'll be the first time you meet the owner.

"Restaurant renovation... Lik' he gives twa fucks aboot renovating this shitehole."

Johnny ashes his smoke and passes it to you. You take a deep drag and sigh, this is gonna be a disaster.

~

Cameras are set up everywhere, everyone's mic'd up, there are too many people in too small of a space. Some obnoxiously loud man introduces himself. He seems to be an amalgamation of every TV host you've ever seen, wearing too much cologne and too much hair gel. He puts a hand on your shoulder,

"The place looks terrible but at least they got something nice to look at here."

He flashes a smile, cheap veneer blindingly white. You awkwardly laugh while Price steps in, introducing himself. You scurry away to the back where the rest of the boys are,

"I want everyone to be on their best behavior today. No fucking around. Don't make me look bad."

The owner is a bland man, average height and weight, with a shitty haircut and wearing an ugly flashy shirt. He turns around and briefly introduces himself, he already smells like liquor. Great. He gets waved over to get interviewed by the host. You and the guys watch from the other end of the restaurant. It's quite embarrassing, the host pointing out how run down the place looks, the menu is confusing and overwhelming, and then asks if he's drunk,

"I can smell the alcohol from here Carl... it's only 11am buddy."

The owner stutters and blinks,

"I- just uh, just a crazy night is all."

The host stares, unconvinced. Carl shifts awkwardly in his chair. The next segment was ordering food apparently, so you were up. You walk up to the table as the host asks you a barrage of questions,

"How would you say the fish is here? Is everything fresh? What do you think of the steak? Do you have any recommendations?"

When you say you only ate the fries from here and he laughs loudly,

"That is not a good sign folks!"

He stares at the camera, showing off teeth that were too big for his mouth before you walk off and punch in the order. There's a cameraman recording John and Simon cooking,

"Steak and potatoes."

John reads the slip out loud, they move around the kitchen while the owner watches. For such a simple dish there's a lot of chaos, Carl is yelling at them to move faster and cook properly, John is busy arguing with Carl and burns the steak, Simon plates up the food and hands it off to you. You place the plate down in front of the host,

"Oh...oh my God..."

You keep a straight face, hands behind your back. The host looks back up at you,

"Does the food usually come out like this?"

There's a tone of disgust and concern, his eyebrows turned up, you shrug. He stares back down at the filet and cuts into it,

"It's very impressive that one is able to overcook such a large piece of meat. That takes...skill."

You watch concertedly as he picks up a piece and puts it into his mouth, it looks like he wants to cry.

He goes on to complain about the quality of the food to the camera as he walks to the kitchen,

"At least it's clean back here. I've seen kitchens in wors- is that a fucking pigeon?"

Sure enough, there is. How the fuck did it get in here?

"Oh! I just left the door open to let some fresh air in..."

Carl awkwardly tries to catch the bird while the boys watch amusedly, even the camera crew stifle a laugh.

"Christ Almighty, what is wrong with you man?"

The host shakes his head, watching the whole scene in disbelief. Eventually, the bird is out of the building and the sweep of the kitchen continues.

"Food is not expired, everything is stored properly, it's all very well organized. I was honestly expecting worse."

The host walks up to the bar next, plucking up bottles and examining them,

"So, Kyle is it? How long have you been working here for?"

"Just a little over five years."

Gaz leans against the bar. There's a gasp and the host waves the camera over,

"Look at this shit,"

He points at the label,

"Expired in August,"

You look over at Gaz and Soap, they look like they're about to piss themselves, holding back laughs.

"Of 2012!"

The host looks disgusted,

"Why didn't you throw this away?"

"Carl told me to not toss anything."

Kyle shrugged. Soap is almost in tears, shaking, trying to bite back a howl of laughter.

The next two days are like this, you don't know why Carl hasn't pulled the plug on this fiasco yet,

"I think he's getting drunker as the days go by."

Johnny says, ashing his cigarette. There's a nod from Simon,

"I think he enjoys being embarrassed, seems like the type to get off on that."

'The big finale' as the host calls it, means getting a new menu, refreshing the cooks(John's) skills, and cleaning out the bar. The place is opened and there's a line out of the door. It's overwhelming, the customers are putting on a show, acting like dickheads and sending everything back even when there's nothing wrong with the food. Simon and John are on top of everything, putting out food as fast as possible, Carl is shitting himself running around the kitchen like a headless chicken. The night goes by fast and everyone is at the bar,

"So the cooks are for the most part competent, the waitress is amazing, and the bartender is well... The man can do no wrong. The problem here is you,"

The host points at Carl who is fucking sloshed swaying back and forth,

"I genuinely think this restaurant would be better off without you."

Carl starts bawling. The host is visibly uncomfortable. The boys and you are looking at each other. Then when all the cameras and lights are gone, it's all back to normal. Carl is looking for reassurance from anyone and you and the boys just pack up and head home, Price patting him on the back,

"You'll be alright."

~

A few months later, you're all sat on the couch watching the TV. Johnny's over the moon pointing at the screen,

"Look thare A am! See hou sexy A look?"

He's smiling and waving at the camera in the background of the scene where Carl is crying his eyes out. That gets a laugh out of Gaz,

"You're a sick bastard, Soap."

Once the episode dropped, the restaurant got busy for a few months. Most of the customers are horny women ogling at Kyle. On occasion you get the request to bring out "the scary looking one" and you just laugh it off.

"You're so lucky working with all these guys, I don't know if I'd be able to control myself,"

A particularly drunk woman said to you one day. You just smile while Kyle winks at you over his shoulder.

[kkolg]

Unfortunately wasn’t able to participate in the rest of Uzi appreciation week because I was really busy but I still wanted to do something for at least the last day

It was a free space so I decided to revamp my Uzi design for the Dawn AU

[beaniebabz]

Someone give him roller skates!!!

[noahl-art]

✨️ Happy Valentine's day ✨️ (last one I promise)

Small gift for @forlorn-crows 🌿

It's based on And You Know That It Takes Two (it was so good 🫠)

Thanks for blessing us with your amazing writing!!

[mizzyislost]

habby birthday moss n oati......... and one year anniversary of pikmin 4 i guess

also some oatchi plush shenanigans beneath the cut

look i just wanted an excuse to show this guy off

my aunt made him for my birthday..... he is perfect......

[prestidigitated]

i loved ranboo's nyp outfit too much i had to draw it immediately

[juaneloriginal]

Important

People from the hospital that my parents work in, people that have power, keep harassing and taking my parents money from debts, right now they even took from their benefits salary, that it's supposed to pay for my little sister's therapy (she is disabled), they cant touch that money at all, but they did it anyway.

My mum is heavily sick right know cause of all the legal battles that she had to go through, all the money they took from us, and all the harassment and public humiliation she had to go through. We basically live from pay check to pay check but every month they take more and more from it and its not enough anymore, they retained her salary for a whole year, and even now it still hasn't been paid to her.

We are due on rent, on electricity, on water, on my school, etc. last week was incredibly rough for us since they cut the internet and electricity at once. Last year we couldn't even pay the water bill for months, we were like 2 weeks without electricity as well. I saw my mother let people treat her like shit just so we could get some money.

I know this is not what i usually post, but you can, please consider commissioning me, at least so i can pay for my school tuition and for food. thank you for listening.

[creatureesque]

Trans Terror Week Day 2: Little Women | Meat Sample from Tin

this prompt made me think of Goodsir and Silna who are very t4t butch4butch.to me. goodsir is daydreaming and jacko is there stealing the food ^_^

[northernyogurt]

excuse me but i had to jo all over the place

[soullessseraphim]

[quirkle2]

glowing freckles cuz i think that's sick as hell

[frudoo]

I'm actually crying a bit as I write this, I went out today and didn't realize that I chub rubbed a hole through the thighs of my jeans... On each fucking side... Realized it while I was in the middle of the store, could I get the 141 boys reactions to being out with their girl and this situation occurs? I'm so utterly mortified and humiliated right now and this is the only thing I could think to cheer me up. Thank you for reading this 💙

Aww sugar :( that's no fun. I hope you're feeling better, and that you treated yourself to a new pair!

Warnings: Slight mention of weight gain (in an affectionate way), fem!reader.

Kyle Garrick:

     You’re walking hand-in-hand with Kyle along the mall when you feel the slight sting on the insides of your thighs. When you stop walking, Kyle immediately turns around to see what’s going on, his heart already pounding when he sees the concern on your face. He backs you against the wall and blocks you from everyone else’s prying eyes so you can do whatever it is you’re doing more comfortably.

     “Wha’s wrong, dove? Did ya start?” He asks softly as you examine the rips in your jeans. 

     “No,” you sniffle, chest starting to heave with embarrassment. “No, I- my jeans are ripped.”

     “Aw, poor thing. Let’s go get ya a new pair, or four, hm?” Kyle grins, tilting your chin up. “No tears, my baby, s’normal. We’re already at the mall, anyway.”

     You nod and sniffle, smiling against his lips when he leans down to kiss you tenderly.

     “There’s my girl. C’mon, let me spoil ya.”

     John Price:

     Grocery day is already stressful enough, so when you feel the hems on the inside of your jeans burst and your skin getting raw, you break out in a fit of anxious, irritated sobs. John hears your voice and comes running over, narrowed eyes scanning your aisle and the areas around it for any reason you might be so upset. Finding nobody, he relaxes a bit, turning you to face him and massaging your shoulders gently.

     “What’s got you so down, darlin’?” He asks softly, voice dripping with concern.

     “My fucking jeans,” you hiss, lifting one leg onto the bottom of your shopping cart to expose the tears to him.

     “You’re all red. Are you in pain?” His brow creases as he examines your thighs, gently running his fingertips along your skin.

     When you wince, he nods, instantly withdrawing his hand.

     “1-10, how mean is your brain bein’?”

     “Eight,” your bottom lip wobbles, and he wraps one arm around your waist, maneuvering the cart back to the front of the store with his free hand. “John, we have to-”

     “Mm-mm. We’ll have the groceries delivered. Right now, I’m gonna get you home and in bed, and you’re gonna use my card to buy yourself some new jeans online. Understood?” 

     “Understood.”

     Simon Riley: 

     “M’bout to fuckin’ kick this shelf down,” Simon grumbles, glaring at the miscellaneous car parts that, evidently, are pissing him off. 

     “Don’t do that, please,” you giggle softly, trying not to alert him as to the pain you’re feeling.

     You should know better than to hide something from Simon. He grabs your hand to drag you to the next aisle, cocking an eyebrow when he sees just the slightest tweak in your walk.

     “Wha’s wrong?” He asks, looking you up and down as if he’s analyzing the state of your wellbeing. 

     “My jeans ripped and I’m chafing,” you whisper, looking around to make sure there was nobody around to hear about your situation. 

     “Thighs’re gettin’ thicker, eh?” His eyes crinkle and you can tell he’s smiling beneath the black medical mask he’s wearing. 

     “Gee, thanks, Si. Say it louder, why don’t you?” You huff, smacking his bicep hard—as if that’s gonna stop him.

     “I jus’ might,” Simon hooks his arm around you and grabs a handful of your plush hip, giving it a firm jiggle. “I happen t’like my girl soft and tasty.”

     “Okay, o- Simon! Enough!” You giggle as he starts tickling your sides, making you forget all about your pain and embarrassment. 

     “Now,” he hums, satisfied. “M’gonna get us home so I can get those delicious fuckin’ thighs wrapped ‘round m’head.”

     Johnny MacTavish:

     “Bon’? Ye’ve been in there a while,” Johnny’s soft knock sounds on the dressing room door, worry in his tone.

     “I’m fine!” You respond, clearing your throat and wiping away your tears, praying that he can’t hear the despair in your voice. 

     He does. The next thing you know he’s crawling beneath the gap in the door like a damn dog, spinning you around by your shoulders so he can examine your face.

     “Ah- for fuck’s sake, Johnny!” 

     “Och, quit yer whinin’ an’ tell me wha’s wrong,” he barks, one bushy eyebrow raised high.

     “My jeans are ripped and my thighs are chafed and it fucking hurts,” you blubber, angrily pointing at the holes in the fabric where your poor skin has been rubbed raw.

    “Is tha’ all?” Johnny grins cheekily. “Take ‘em off.”

     “Excuse me?” It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow.

     “Ye heard me. Take ‘em off.”

     Rolling your eyes, you comply, surprised when he does the same. He hands you his own pair and takes yours, and you watch with great amusement as he shimmies into your jeans. His are a little too big for you at the bottom and a little too small at the waist, but your shirt is long enough to cover the fact that you had to leave it unbuttoned. Half of Johnny’s calves are exposed in your jeans and the waist droops around him, but damn that beautiful man and his perfect, muscular thighs, they fit in perfectly. 

     “Damn, hen. We should trade more of’en, these make me arse look fantastic!”

So, all in all, the rest of your shopping trip went smoothly, despite all the workers staring at the odd pair of you—and hey, he was right. His ass does look fantastic, especially when it’s buying you new jeans.

[silverzoomies]

Imagine quickie rails u so good u squirt but you’re low key embarrassed bc that’s never happened before but he talks you through it so sweetly and so hornily bc he obviously finds it the hottest thing in the world and he’s kinda obsessed with the fact that you just did that bc of him

…..yeah I need to know what he’s like talking you through it …….

anon, i'm so sorry. i dunno if this is what you were expecting. but i went a little off the rails. i haven't actually sat down and written anything in fifty gajillion years. apologies in advance if i'm super duper rusty. you're a doll, by the way. thanks for the inspiration !! this ask had me red in the face all over again !! 🤍 here's a short drabble for ya 🤍🤍🤍

In the boring emptiness of some secret, government research facility, soft squeals call out with ecstasy.

Hold that thought.

Aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?

🤍

Since the OG X-Men were busy with more important endeavors (another fancy gala. Huge snore fest), Xavier took it upon himself to recruit some newbie trainees. He sent three of them to a top secret facility. Super below radar. The building sat far away from the bustle of society, hidden at an off-the-record base.

It’s around one AM when Quicksilver himself finally crashes your boring, patrol party. He zips through the entire building, scouting the area; before checking in on the trainees. After sending the other two off on their twenty minute breaks, he soon finds you.

A newbie he’s far more acquainted with. In more ways than one.

But not as many as he’d like.

You look bored as hell sitting there by yourself, swirling in a swivel chair. A series of CCTV screens flicker before you. But you barely pay them any attention. Keeping your head down, clipboard on your lap; you doodle all over a security protocol sheet. Your legs kick in a childlike way.

Your first, official mission is the most lame of X-Men operations. But even despite that, you appear to be in high spirits. Peter’s almost jealous. The first time he joined up with the team, all he got out of it was a lousy, broken leg.

Anyway, you’re cute and all. But…don’t you have a job to do, you slacker?

Peter leans against the doorway, his hands nestled in the pockets of his silver, bomber jacket. Beady eyes watch you through the lenses of his goggles. His earphones hang around his neck. A quiet jam resonates from them. But you're so mesmerized by your doodling, you don't even notice.

In a flash, Peter makes his presence known. Big hands grab your shoulders hard. He leans in to whisper sternly in your ear. His voice vibrates, robust and quaking in an attempt to spook you.

“GOTCHA! Annnnnnnd, yer dead, kid! Mwahahaha!”

You swivel around in an instant. Hopping from your seat, you raise your hands in defense. Jeez! Peter's caught off guard by how quickly you react. Blinding beams of golden light burst from your palms. The same glow floods your eyes. You hurl scorching hot rays in Peter's direction.

Well…shit.

Thanks to Xavier's mad training skills, Peter's a little faster than light nowadays. And he's ultra lucky for it. Had you raised your hands and gone pew pew pew so many years ago - he probably would've charred to a crisp right then and there. 

“Damn! You got some killer aim! That was a close call.” He whistles. Peter gawks at the holes seared into the wall, straight through some ruined blueprints. A smirk plays on his lips. He gestures at the damage with a thumb, “Eh, they probably got backups ‘a those lyin’ around, right?”

Your only response is an affectionate eye roll. But Peter notes the curl at the corner of your mouth as you try not to smile. 

Screw it. You're pretty fun. Why doesn't he hang with you for a bit? He's probably got some time to kill. At least before Chuck realizes the speedster isn't dressed to the nines, bored out of his mind at the gala.

The two of you goof off for a few minutes. As you doodle, Peter looms over your seat. Watching the CCTV screens with a ready eye, he teases you about your lack of focus on the job. You're just such a supreme newbie, he can't help it.

To which you respond with a counterpoint - isn't he the reigning champion of getting sidetracked?

Touché, little newbie. Touché.

Boredom quickly makes him antsy. And being antsy has Peter's brain reaching for any stimulation he can find. Pacing the room, Peter casts subtle glances at your figure in tactical clothing. Hot damn. Black really does highlight your most bodacious assets.

Amidst casual conversation, Peter shamelessly flirts with you. And when you flirt back, he isn’t all that fazed. The two of you are always making saucy passes at one another. Horny topics of discussion happen more often than they should. You once poured your heart out for twenty minutes, complaining that you couldn’t squirt when you got off. Part of him took this confession as a challenge.

Peter never forgot how sexually charged the energy of that night was.

Or…maybe it wasn’t? Maybe you just wanted to vent to someone who would listen. Yeah. He’s probably uber delusional. That ‘energy’ might’ve come from the sunbeams radiating in your genes.

Sure. Nothing sexual.

But if that’s the case, why else are you giving him bedroom eyes - if not ‘cuz you really wanna bone?

Expelling a bland sigh, Peter leans back against the console where the CCTV screens are. He bounces a random ball he swiped from a researcher’s desk. Flirtatious teasing continues back and forth, remaining casual.

Until Peter makes a needlessly suggestive comment.

“I’m just sayin’. Picture this, ‘kay? You ‘n me, goin’ at it like there’s no tomorrow. Pretty sure I’d get you off in under, say, three minutes er less. That’s not a promise, it’s a fact.”

Throwing you a sly look, Peter smirks payfully. He bounces the ball again.

“Pshh. Not fast enough.” You mumble.

Peter’s dark gaze leers at you from under his brows.

Oh. Oh no, you didn't just...

His eyes fire across each CCTV screen, double checking for any unwanted visitors. All clear, it’s go time. Moving swiftly, he props you up on a nearby desk. At record speed - before you can begin to comprehend his impossibly fast actions - he crams six inches of girthy, speedster cock inside you. All without any warning.

In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have been so impulsive. But in the microsecond it took him to move your body and pull your pants off, at the very least; he had the courtesy to prep you with his fingers. And now, you’re coming undone as he jackhammers your cunt. Peter rolls into you in a blur of silver motion. Your walls clench perfectly over his cock.

You protest through shallow moans, “W-Wait! Oh my g-...too fast, Peter! Too fast!”

The tips of his fingers circle your clit, the vibrations shattering your moans. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you bring him closer. Peter shivers as your pussy squeezes him so tight. It’s an outrageously awesome sensation that drives him to drill his dick deeper. Tilting forward, he groans, his lips grazing yours.

“Y’think I can make you squirt like this?” He chuckles, his throat bobbing as he swallows down a moan.

You shake your head wildly, whimpering the softest, “Noooooo! I told you already, I cannnnn’t!”

“Huh? What’s that, cutie? Aw. Too bad. ‘Cuz I’m not gunna slow down ‘til you do.” Peter teases, looking over his shoulder at the CCTV screens. He smirks crookedly, “Better be quick. Yer teammates’re gunna be back soon.”

You tip your head back as you whine again. Peter ruts into you so inexplicably fast, his pace renders your lungs useless. His fingers keep torturing your clit, guiding your pearl in a whirring dance of speedy buzzes. You shudder, clawing into his arms as your hips move on instinct. 

Speeding the rhythm of his thrusts, Peter furrows his brows. His cock pulses when he watches your tits bounce in your shirt. He bites his lip to stifle a whimper. Below him, you try to call his name. But his powerful movements rupture your pretty voice. “Hell yeah, gorgeous. That’s it. Don’t hold back, ‘kay? Just let it happen. Gunna cum, pretty girl? C’mon, ya gotta cum for me. You can do it. C’mon.” He begs, his tone a little closer to a whine.

Not even two minutes into sexing you up, he has you gushing a spritz of luscious heat. Score. He'll be thinking about this sexy success for weeks. The corners of your eyes leak hot tears, as a rapturous orgasm overtakes you. The entire, lower half of your body tightens, muscles clenching. Your pussy pops with a juicy burst. Leaking down your thighs and ass, your slick coats his twitchy cock.

He kisses you, his breath burning hot, “Doin’ so good, princess. So good for me. Was that fast enough for you? Hmm? Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-”

Pulling his soaked length free, he showers your tummy in virile, white jets. Leaning over you, Peter laughs again, exhaling a long sigh of elation. His lips capture yours, drinking in your kisses for a few beats. He feels his heart twist with satisfaction. All at the awesome notion that he drove you to such an intimate, breaking point.

“How’s that for a quickie?” He teases with a cheeky grin, winking down at you.

Your blinky eyes gaze over his shoulder, looking somewhat dazed. Beneath him, you stir in place. You’re trying to say something. But you’re so braindead from the totally slammin’ orgasm he gave you, the words won’t happen.

But then, Peter notices the way your glazed hues narrow. That vibrant, golden glow from earlier returns. Sitting up on an elbow, you raise a hand to point at the CCTV screens behind him. Oh, you probably saw someone on cam. Peter’s dark gaze widens. A sudden beam of light pulsates at the tip of your finger.

“NO, NO, NO, NO-” He starts.

Too late. The golden flash fires like a speeding bullet from your fingertip, colliding into the screens. A powerful burst shatters the entire CCTV setup on impact. Electric static buzzes amongst broken glass and fried wires. Peter sighs, looking over his shoulder, then back down at your cute face.

“Babe, seriously? Now’s not the time to be tryin’ interior decorating!” He rolls his eyes, playing ignorant to your shared romp in the research lab, “Hold that thought...aren’t you supposed to be on patrol?”