#then bring him back carefully

[watchyourbuck]

I don’t ever wanna hear anybody say that Firefighter Buckley doesn’t have leadership skills,,, that man single-handedly saved the entire 118 then went home and delivered a baby ???????

[just-null]

Do you ever do requests? If so, do you ever plan on drawing some Yandere with the Hantengu clones? :D hope you have a good day/night!!!

Mentioning an unfamiliar name

yes!! I love yanderes.. and these guys.. these guys are such good material...... nods nods..

I'm not sure about requests..I assume you mean drawing requests? I suppose if it REALLY catches my interest enough, I'd do it, but it'd probably just be line art/sketches.

[gooferdusted]

the pilot is so insane. like sam lost everything to his name in that fire and they just. drove off after that

[voidcat]

Queuing up for a ranked game and happening to end up on the same game as your captain dearest Narumi Gen…

[starstaiined]

AND THINKING ON THAT SCENE, YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE WE DON'T TALK ABOUT ENOUGH??? the way tara was completely catatonic after anika's death. she's sitting with mindy, zoned out to the point she barely glances at ethan. she's slipped back into that quiet space. but then she sees detective bailey walking out of the house towards sam, and she's on her feet so fast. just in case there's some misdirected anger, just in case she needs to step in to defend sam, just in case sam needs that extra little bit of comfort if he says something

[alexi-01]

gavi looks so good, lively and agile and it’s annoying he’s only getting 5 minutes against espanyol of all teams

also stop subbing him out for pedri they aren’t supposed to be separated

[godsfavoritescientist]

I think if ford ever heard someone playing tiktoks out loud on their phone within earshot of him he would simply shoot that phone with a sci-fi gun

[archersartcorner]

REPORT START.

DATE: January 21, 2282

COURSER UNIT: Q3-31

Dr. [INSERT ACTING HEAD OF SRB HERE.],

Exploring the ruins of Las Vegas (currently called “New Vegas”) and the surrounding Mojave Desert, I was able to find evidence of the missing synth, V4-16. Included in this report is a medical file made on his behalf by the “Followers of the Apocalypse.” The doctor under his supervision, a man named Arcade Gannon, appears to have taken on a paternal role towards V4-16, and assumes he originated from a Vault due to his lack of scarring. V4-16 seems to have no recollection of his time in the Institute, and has amassed an impressive amount of power in the short time he has been away. For some reason, recalling does not seem to work - the recall component in his brain was either damaged, or removed. I was under immediate suspicion by Dr. Gannon during my attempt to reclaim him, and upon the reclamation not working, I was simply stared at, and asked, “What is wrong with you?” I retreated immediately and requested to be recalled back.

REPORT END.

Additional Notes: We’ll keep an eye on V4-16 for now. Having an influence as far as the Mojave, while we may be unable to directly control it, is still beneficial. Under no circumstances should Bela be made aware of V4-16’s survival - simply maintain the truth that it’s chip has been offline since October.

- Dr. Ayo

—

Made a similar thing to this a while ago here, and wanted to make another version, with some additional context ;-)

And a bonus:

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

Ben Reilly: Scarlet Spider (Vol. 1/2017), #6.

Writer: Peter David; Penciler and Inker: William Sliney; Colorist: Jason Keith; Letterer: Joe Caramagna

[kuraikyu]

@trehontin : " So loud for no reason~ "

ㅤ𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 allay one's own fears. Hundreds of conversations in voices loud as if all of them competing with rock music to dominate the thematic atmosphere. Suguru himself very much wished he could melt into the vibe of this bar and laugh at simple cares he had. But after barely finishing one glass of dry Vermouth, he came to conclusion it would not quiet roving mind, still greatly fatigued if he continued. Too much exorcism brought along too many dark thoughts no one knew about, thus came the inability to do anything else than just blandly remain deeply immersed in established set of attitude by the bar counter.

Elegant facade always in a good mood, the one he daily displayed seemed weary, and his face more lined than one could remember, for thoughts wandered back to his students. A kindred spirit must attend to the hurts of those injured by the curse of their techniques.

'You can't help these kids.' No, and it was true. But there was something he could do ... let them know they are not alone in this mess and somewhere there might be the slightest chance to optimize poultices that will bring them some measure of relief. Yeah, some deep matters are still left undone here. Such reward, should he prevail could be significant for his aid has been requested for this aim. Sometimes he would internally recount to details of each plan. He was hardly a beard of many winters, and still have seen things this day people would not have believed yesterday.

And then - thoughts wandered back to his twin girls. Stronger and madder - with each swallow a shadow of vengeance comes to tap his shoulder, cultivating sacred offers of gold obsidians manifesting amid his fingers. Its currents are strong, bitter, squeezing further his throat like an opiate of poetry crafting a sling knot above the abyss. What were lives of mortals more than a flickering candle-light in the gale to something greater and ancient? Mortals had more allies than they supposed, even among those they deemed no more than legends.

Humans ... spoke to Sorcerers as friends, gave them shelter, took the sweat from their brows, and repaid everyone with what? Treachery. So, he wondered, what would happen if someday someone would repay them in kind ... ? These forbidden thoughts had periodic frequencies of their darkest bloom, but fortunately, so far they vanished as quickly as they appeared. And sometimes there were days when he was worried to ask himself a question: what if one day they won't disappear, what then? Perhaps he wasn't made for teaching at all, perhaps his ambitions were far greater than that. It was then that he realized it is time to head back home, lay, and rest when every droplet in his throat started to turn into ashes, and the bar ran out of ice. Someone behind him was making a ruckus that clearly ( by the sound that traveled to him ) had nothing to do with ambient mirth. But of course, bars at night, pure nests for curses and demons born from negative human emotions intoxicated by spirits.

His wishful landing for peace may be uneventful, but then it may be tumultuous indeed.

The bartender was a good, humble person who Geto would once in a few months visit after frequent patrolling of local streets and in pursuit of special-grade wanderers. But that moment, the bartender lacked his typical sense of merry collectiveness as timorous eyes shifted nervously back and forth from drying glass at brutes apparently approaching closer. As the one who is strong, you are obligated to maintain the order. He gazed up at the desperate bartender. Don't worry, I'll take them out; they won't disturb your place any longer.

Someone from behind apparently shouted his way : ' Hey you!! ' '' ... '' Geto said nothing. Instead, almost mechanically cranium would tip from right to left shoulder, in a manner of awakening black cat stretching stiff neck muscles for what was going to follow next.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤF*cking Monkeys ...

---

It was a fraction later — that the back doors kicked widely open, and a man was literally thrown out by great force. Then another ... third, fifth. Pathetically beaten and driven out from coming back by the immensity of Suguru's dark aura crisped with disturbing sensation of living rot covering each span by naught but a singular stride beyond threshold.

' So loud for no reason~ '

'' ... '' '' ??! "

Where life expects to renew caution sudden voice caught him off guard. An instant tick of moment triggered immediate cessation of blackened aura until its gradual then ultimate vanish along with any hardness in Geto's mien. Someone shortly behind ... and closer to his left.

This guy shouldn't be here. Wait, was the man here all the time? How could he not notice him? The change of playlist resulted in louder rhythms of music protruding from cranny gaps ; which brought along a strange switch in the atmosphere. With proper aim of senses that strange man ( who would not elude from fixation of Suguru's focus ) stood inches away from him; his profile a refined riddle clad in elegant biding. The flickering neon text light glitching: ' 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 ' reflected into the bleak avenue and caressed across subtle facial lines of the speaking stranger like velvet constellations, yet navigated to the pair of deep browns, gleaming just the same like polished amber in first rays of dawn; and he was brave enough to meet them with his own spinning mantra of nothingness and palette of starlit black. Great. The last thing he needs in this sh*tty state of mind is bumping into a beautiful man; that type of guy, who at first sight seemed like the one giving him a good talking about his own bad manners. A situation truly worth of deep sigh. But looks could be terribly deceiving. Many factions remained in being where he couldn't identify why he was spellbound to place and stiffness. And Geto, as a guy made of stern stuff, and shaped by sorts of experiences starting from the strangest to grossest feelings ... nothing for him quite ever felt like this uneasiness, but even so, on a level of intuition, he kept his movements in slow synchrony.

Under other circumstances, he would raise an eyebrow and subject other one to closer scrutiny, but again too much exorcism had a price. '' Sorry about that, didn't mean to throw these guys almost right — ugh, right ... at you, '' he managed in haste his scattered manners and admittedly apologized about his shortcomings, contemptuously glancing as well at pitiful display of mankind cowardice in attempt to slink away from kindled spitfire of their mortifying ordeal, '' this lot is hardly ever over their limits. But believe me, there was a reason for this noise. '' Was there? Was there any other reason than his own savageness?

Nor Sorcerers nor other entities can exist without encountering one another; such is the law of existential attraction. Macabre incognito shouldn't be able to melt away your inner pains, but perhaps the reality was that ... that very same pain was overshadowed by something else, something ... unexplainably inhumane although perfectly humane, standing and smiling at him with a degree of faithfulness only constant of death can bring. It was just as alluring as it was terrifying. Don't mind him. Don't stare. He pinched his nose bridge from unexpected sensory overload he likely blamed on overusing powers and looked reluctantly back at the speaker, '' If you're ... on your way in, then I suppose you couldn't pick better timing. The air's clear from further troubles. Oh, yeah, and May Geminis get all the free drinks today, well, applies twice if it's your birthday, '' thumb directingly pointed over his shoulder back at doors as he stepped forward passing around his mysterious encounter, '' have fun. '' Like a cloud of smoke, the curse manipulator continued to wind down along the steps and fully out of the place; manifesting his prior intention to vanish into the night, and sanction further his emotional cannibalism from dangers of public affairs.

[monstersholygrail]

Vampire bf spooning you in the middle of the night, nuzzling into you so roughly that it causes you to slowly wake up. As soon as he senses you’re not completely asleep, his arms curl around you and he bury’s his face in your neck. Groggily you bare your throat to him, thinking he might be hungry.

But instead he simply whines and cuddles in closer. It’s only then that you notice he’s shivering. A soft “What’s wrong, darling?” croaks past your lips. He doesn’t respond, letting his actions speak louder as his hands slip under your shirt and brush along your soft stomach as if trying to steal up all your warmth. You hiss at his touch, his usually cold skin even colder for some reason. “You’re freezing,” you can’t help but exclaim the obvious.

Your vampire bf whimpers, nodding his head within the warm fold of your neck. “Need your warmth. Need your heat, baby please,” he says in a soft whine, one hand tugging at the seam of your shorts and giving you an idea of what he means.

As soon as you’ve pulled your panties down, he’s sliding himself between the warm supple flesh of your thighs. He hisses in the space of her neck, his body shuddering with pleasure.

Your lips part, feeling his throbbing cock push its way through your legs, so close to where you need him. His tip bumping up against your clit with every snap of his hips. Arousal pools within you till it drips onto his cock. Your bf growls, hips moving faster.

“Ah, fuck! More. Please,” you beg, baring your neck once again. Your hips tilt, craving the feeling of being filled by him.

“My heart, I could devour you whole and still crave more," he rumbles, his hips bucking to catch every drop of your essence on his length.

His hand tenderly cups the underside of your neck and brings it to his lips. You sense the heat of his breath and goosebumps rise along your arms a second before you feel the sharp prick of pleasure caused by his fangs. You shiver as he slowly sinks them all the way in.

The combination of his fangs inside you and the way he slows down the rocking of his hips causes your eyes to droop as you begin to drift back to sleep. His hand massages your plush thigh, gently shifting it back over his own, legs intertwining.

With your thighs open, your bf has easy access to slide his length inside your eager and dripping walls. You both moan as he pushes past your entrance, his girth carefully stretching your precious pussy as he takes his time stuffing you full of him. Bringing a delicious dull ache to the apex of your thighs.

He settles in once he’s buried his length to the hilt, your hips fitting together like two puzzle pieces. He relaxes against your body and wraps every limb that he can around you. Cocooning your being in his protective embrace. Making you feel exactly as treasured as you are.

“That’s better,” he slurs contently in an attempt to speak with his fangs in your neck. Soon after you start to feel his skin warming back up against your own. You smile softly, finally falling back asleep and happy you were able to help him.

Never finding out that Vampires have full control over their body temperature.

[bruciemilf]

Alfred honestly can’t say shit about Bruce bringing in strays, because what if the Waynes got him the same way?

I genuinely can’t recall HOW Alfred, British special forces extraordinaire, ended up working for Gotham’s (scary) sweethearts.

In my mind, he came to them bleeding.

There’s a tang of bitterness pooling in his gut. Soldiers don’t have friends. They have guns. And he’s all out.

Just when Alfred thought all is in peril, a tiny little hand gently covers a nasty bullet hole on his abdomen.

The first thing Alfred thinks about is: ‘Jesus, this kid has scary eyes.’

“Hi, Alfred.”

“…How do you—“

“Bruce! Jesus FUCKING Christ, I swear, I’m not paying for your ransom next time you run o—…What the fuck is that?”

If there’s one thing about Thomas that Alfred will never forget is his voice; The bass , so chasmic and powerful it could shake the whole world, and the burning care in his eyes despite his vulgarity.

Bruce, — who’s the tiniest bundle of a boy Alfred witnessed, is yanked up by his father’s strong hands, squeezed to his chest carefully. “Hurt,” he says. There’s a tiny, red handprint on Thomas’ shirt.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice,” Thomas mumbling, looking around.

Maybe local gangs? The bullet point is too precise, too calculated. “Who the hell are you?”

Alfred, with his raspy breath, says, “I’m the terribly rude bloke dying on your doorstep, I’m afraid. Alfred Pennyworth. At your service.”

For a guy who’s about to bleed his last, he sounds awfully sarcastic.

“Yeah, wise guy, no one’s dying on my kid’s birthday. Bruce, tell Dotty to prep up the basement. And tell your mama to get my Budlight out of the cooler. Jesus Christ.”

Alfred ends up hoisted on this man’s back. Thomas asks if he has anyone he wants to call? Anyone that’ll come pick him up? Anyone to bury him, if it comes to it.

Alfred whispers he does not.

Thomas sighs. “Well. Kid‘a been asking for a playmate.”

[suguann]

When you first introduce him, Simon instantly knows that he hates your now ex-boyfriend—especially after he broke up with you only two months into the relationship, and the reason behind it sets his teeth on edge.

You’re perfect and so sweet; how could he—

“He broke up with me because…I um…Do I really have to say it? It’s embarrassing.” 

He bumps his knee into yours because he really fucking sucks at saying the right thing when the moment calls for it. “You don’t have to say anything.”

With a huff, you get a little flustered and glance down into your glass of beer, brows furrowed. “I couldn’t make him fit.” 

It’s so soft, but he hears it as if you’d shouted it across the bar.

The only thought he can think of is that your ex-boyfriend is an idiot once he has your back pressed up against his chest and trembling thighs spread over top of his. Three of his thick fingers already work deep inside of you, filling the room with filthy squelching sounds and your breathy moans.

His thumb carefully drags over your clit, loving how you twitch in his arms. “See? Someone just needed to stretch your little pussy properly, huh?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pressing yourself further into him, thighs butterflying open. “It feels so good.”

“You’re so loose and wet. I bet my cock would slip right in.”

Your walls clench and flutter around him, and it takes everything in him not to toss you onto the bed and fuck you into his sheets. “Simon, can you fuck me? Please?” 

It’s hard to deny you when you ask so sweetly, but he can’t give you what you want—not yet. You whine when he pulls one of his fingers out, but it cuts off into a surprised squeak when he grabs your smaller hand to bring it between your thighs. 

“Put one of your fingers inside your pussy.”

You turn your head to look up at him, kiss-bitten lips pulled into a pout. “But—”

“Come on, love, be good for me.” Teeth nip your jaw as a warning. “I know you can be so good for me.”

Slowly, you ease your finger in beside his with little pants of his name. His cock jumps against your back as he watches your cunt open up to suck in the intrusion—it makes his stomach twist. Simon traps your finger between his and curls them alongside his inside you, tearing a sharp cry from your chest.

“You’re so gorgeous.” His words are raw, rumbling somewhere deep within his chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. So full. Better than your boyfriend ever could.”

Masterlist

[sigh-tofm]

if you still sleep with a stuffed animal…

- price makes sure you don’t feel childish for it. you’re a little reluctant about admitting it first, but there’s no hiding it once you move in. you grip the edge of your shirt and stare down into the floor when he asks you about the well-loved teddy in one of your moving boxes. he embraces you and reminds you of your age and your big girl job, your degree, your car. none of that changes because you sleep with a stuffie, he mutters as his hands find your wide ass. goes on to tell you all the grown up things he wants to do you.

- kyle finds it endearing, even when you’re a little embarrassed to tell him about it. you’re already the most important person in the world to him. a stuffie only makes you more adorable in his eyes. and frankly, he gets it. it’s nice having something soft and warm to hold when you go sleep, he says and winks at you. still, teddy gets turned the other way when you two start undressing each other.

- johnny finds it a little odd, but only because he can fall asleep standing up in a chopper mid-flight, and therefore doesn’t quite understand that you have specific requirements in order to sleep well. but doesn’t tease you for it, instead always making sure teddy’s around for you. brings him out to the living room when you two (now three) are watching a movie and even borrows him for himself when you’re away. claims it’s because he smells like you, denies it’s because he’s growing fond of him too.

- simon treats teddy with the utmost respect. he probably had one too, long ago, until his father destroyed it. he understands your feelings about your stuffie and places him carefully on the floor next to the bed if you two get busy. stitches up his torn seams with his balaclava-thread. slides him gently back under your arm if you’re already asleep when he comes to bed. puts his own arms around you in turn, protecting your back while teddy has your front. still, slips a hand under your shirt to feel the soft skin of your tits to fall asleep to.

[readwritealldayallnight]

“But what if you hate it?”

“I can tell ya I wouldn’t, because it’d be yours.”

“Okay but what if you actually do really hate it, and you can’t tell me because you just said that?”

“Love, ya don’ have to do this. I didn’t wan’ this to stress ya-”

“No! No, Simon I want to do it. It’s such a sweet idea you had, I’ll do another one.” You finally decide, putting the pen back to paper, unable to bring yourself to actually draw.

“Could always take any o’ the ones from the bin.” He offers, nodding his head over towards the overflowing waste basket surrounded by crumbled up pieces of paper, evidence of your many previous attempts.

When SImon had brought up the idea of you drawing something for him to add to his sleeve to represent you, you’d jumped at the opportunity, loving the idea. However, you’d all too quickly discovered that you were having issues committing to the idea of what to draw, and Simon was refusing to offer any ideas, wanting the idea and design to be entirely yours.

Appropriate to his call sign, your first instinct had been to try drawing different versions of ghosts, but each one felt too cartoony, too childish, and you passed on that idea.

Then you thought you would draw your own little skull, something that could more easily be incorporated into the images and not be totally out of theme. But the next issue to come to light though, was when the connection between you brain and your hand apparently forgot entirely how to draw a skull, and you hated everything that came up on paper.

“S’that a lightbulb?” He’d asked at one point, and the skull idea was quickly out the window too.

From there, you were worried he wouldn’t like any of your drawings, as you couldn’t bring yourself to like any them either. You’d both agreed to put a pin in it for the time being, and as the weeks passed, you nearly forgot about his request.

That was until, he came home with a plastic wrapping around his forearm.

“You hurt?” You ask him, immediately spotting the darker bandages peeking out from the edges of his sleeve as he removes his jacket.

“Nah, just got somethin�� done.” He replies, sauntering over to you, slowly folding up his sleeve to reveal more of his pale skin.

“Huh?

Instead of answering, he carefully unravels the outer layer of bandages, before slowly peeling back the bandage to show you the skin underneath, an overly pleased grin stretching across his face, chuckle bursting through as your stunned gasp echoes through your shared flat.

Forever on his skin, Simon has tattooed something you’d drawn in the first birthday card you ever gave him. In your handwriting, he can always glance down at himself and see both your and his initial with a plus sign between them, surrounded by a little heart with an arrow going through it. When you’d drawn it for him, never in a million years had you thought he would be etching the corny doodle onto himself permanently, but now, that same doodle is his favourite thing to look at when away on deployment.

[peachsukii]

Thinking about reader and fiancée!Bakugo prepping for their wedding when the important question of ‘who’s walking you down the aisle?’ comes up during a planning consultation.

“I’m still figuring it out,” you say to the planner nonchalantly. She nods, notating the response before continuing through the meeting per usual. Later that night, Bakugo decides to carefully bring the topic back up.

“I know it’s not easy, but do you wanna talk about earlier?” He asks gently, taking your hand in his. “Might wanna figure it out before the big day sneaks up on us.”

You know he’s right…but who the hell takes that place?

“I don’t know who to ask,” you whisper, somewhat talking to yourself rather than to him. “I don’t have any siblings and I’m not close with any other family members like that. I could ask Eiji or Izuku, but they’re already apart of our day in a big way. I don’t want them to feel pressured.”

“Why not?” Bakugo questions, moving his free hand to your shoulder. “Those idiots love you, peach. ‘Course they’d say yes if ya asked.”

“I know. But—”

“It’s not the same, I get it.”

There’s a brief silence before Bakugo’s eyes light up, an idea blossoming in his mind. “What about my dad?”

You give him a blank stare. “Huh?”

He tilts his head with a smile. “He loves ya like a daughter already, sweetheart.”

The thought lingers for a moment before the emotions catch up, a lump forming in your throat. Ever since you and Bakugo started dating, his family has been nothing but warm and welcoming to you. Mitsuki joked constantly that you were the daughter she wished she had for years, and Masaru struck up conversation with you at every dinner, his interest in you never feeling forced or fake.

Fidgeting a bit, you finally gather yourself enough to speak. “Would it be weird if I asked your mom instead?”

Bakugo laughs, but not at you, more-so in agreement. “Not at all. Think you can handle her? ‘Cause she will be a mess.”

That makes you giggle, the invisible pressure lifting from your shoulders and a sense of calm washing over you.

“If I can handle you, Mitsuki is nothing.”