#this specimen is glorious

[markscherz]

Me when I feel like shit but my partner pays me a compliment.

[a-room-of-my-own]

Why am I only finding out about the Jack Reacher show on Prime and his lead actor very worthy of my men tag ?

I mean…

[thespineoftherighteous]

more more more more aftg show bloopers (p 4?? I think?) whoop whoop de fuckin whoop

Neil's actor being a huge Duolingo dork and in the behind the scenes while the other actors are fooling around between takes you can often see him with his head bent and hear the little 'ping!'s coming from his phone

also during late night shoots, as it gets closer to midnight he always has a point where he's like SHIT my Duolingo streak. and then just blocks out everyone while his fingers fly over his screen

(fans make compilations of him proudly showing his Duolingo streak to the camera and the number grows as the seasons progress)

(he definitely is the kinda bitch who cares more about maintaining the streak than actually learning languages)

actually omg while we're on the topic of languages

Kevin's actor tenderly reciting his French lines to Matt's actor and Matt's actor is just smitten. and he goes "say something else, love" and Kevin's actor strokes his cheek while saying another one of his lines and Matt swoons

(then Kevin's actor turns to the camera and goes "I just told him that he's a disappointment and is going to get his ass handed to him by ravens if he doesn't do exactly as I say" and, from the ground, Matt's actor goes "hell yeah you did. talk dirty to me any day of the week you sexy, sexy man")

coach's actor is always swearing to the point where they implement a swear jar...really it's just something for the kids to jokingly rag on him about, but he goes with it, and every so often they'll empty the jar to buy the cast and crew pizza

they're filming outside at night and it's cold and in between takes Matt's Aaron's and Renee's actors are all huddled together for warmth and Matt's actor gets pulled aside to get his makeup touched up and the other two just shriek at the absence of his heat and catch up to him to tuck themselves against him again

Andrew needs to snap his fingers in one scene but everyone finds out that day that his actor doesn't know how to snap so he has a little impromptu snapping lesson and of course it turns into everyone else trying to one-up each other with their snapping abilities

Nicky's actor telling everyone what he's going to steal from set (will literally say"[about Allison's bathrobe] damn that shit soft as hell. Ive been needing a new bathrobe actually. I'm stealing this" or "I'm stealing this lighter/bandana/sunglasses/etc") but because his humor is so dry everyone thinks he's joking. until months later. when the prop department can't find shit

Renee's actress is doing something completely mundane but Neil's and Allison's actors start narrating what she's doing like they're in a nature documentary (always with Australian accents for some reason??)

"and our specimen now reclines herself vertically on a piece of furniture us humans know as 'a desk.' this clearly less-developed creature seems not to understand the purpose of such an object. but given that this is her first time outside her natural habitat (the jungle) her lack of familiarity with modern technology is to be expected"

Renee's actress: *flips them off*

"ah and here we witness one of the most common behaviors of this specimen. specialists have dubbed it 'flipping the bird,' and explain it as a nonverbal expression of affection" "oh fuck off"

photo from another cold night-shoot and it's of Matt's and Dan's actors, she's standing in front of him zipped up in his hoodie, just her head poking out and they're having a conversation with other castmates like it's the most normal thing in the world, looking the very image of the couple they play

so much glorious content from shooting the dorm sleepover scene. the most popular thing to come from it is a picture from after they wrapped where the cast and some members of the crew had moved even closer to each other amid all the blankets and are asleep on top of each other

Andrew's actor will sometimes actually eat the ice cream he's given instead of just pretending to eat it, and halfway through the scene he casually mentions that he's lactose intolerant and sends the crew into a worried frenzy

if you haven't clocked it yet, these bitches are competitive. and one day, one thing led to another, and soon a bunch of the actors are all being filmed having a plank-holding competition. Dan's actress is the first to drop and she gets booed at for it because "you're an ex-stripper where tf is that upper body strength?"

she flips them off and goes to sit on Kevin's actor, hoping to squash his plank, but instead he starts doing push ups with her on his back. she grins

(Rikos actor wins that competition btw. and Neil's actor goes on a rant about "we succumbed to the ENEMY? a RAVEN? your characters would be ashamed of you" (he also lost?))

Allison's actress pretending to do a get-ready-with-me using all the stuff on Allison's vanity

Wymack's actor falling asleep in The Dad Pose™ when they're shooting a scene on the bus. and everybody gathers in to take pictures

when Kevin and Neil get all up in each other's faces their actors will pretend like they're going to kiss each other

not really a blooper but just all the actors for the foxes and the ravens mingling together in between takes and it looks so wrong

give me all the actors constantly taking the piss out of their characters

for ex during a scene where the monsters are in the car on the way to Edens, Nicky's actor looks towards the backseat where everyone is in character and goes wow what a fun crowd we are you'd never believe we're about to hit the club

night shoots are a. struggle. for Dan's actress. and the others love to take videos of her just standing on her mark with the most spaced out expression on her face

Andrew's and Neil's actors are shooting one of their typical intense, deep scenes and after one take, as soon as "cut" is called, Andrew's actor grabs Neil's face and starts serenading him with the song that's been stuck in his head all day

Renee's actress getting scolded for sneaking snacks into her costume

when Nicky's actor messes up a line (and he's the least likely of everyone to do it) he starts spewing Spanish

Andrew's actor constantly teasing his brother and Katelyn's actress whenever they have scenes together

like the two of them will just be talking together in between takes and Andrews actor will be behind the camera recording them and saying shit like "look at that MINYARD RIZZ" (or he'll use their actual last name) "hey btw [Katelyn's actor] I taught him everything he knows"

that scene where the foxes are rushing out of the dorm to check on their destroyed cars and Matt's actor just faceplants (Neil's actor: "wow. the dedication")

in one scene or other Allison's actress is drinking an iced drink and during one take she just keeps calmly shaking the ice around in her cup until one by one everyone cracks

in one scene Allison's actress is wearing sunglasses. and in between takes she lies down and on camera you can see Kevin and Matt's actors whispering trying to figure out whether or not she's sleeping because they can't see her eyes

Aaron's actor always using Neil's actor as a pillow during car scenes because they're always next to each other and they're actually hella tight irl

the kids love to steal any props that coach's actor needs to use (pens clipboards etc) before they start rolling just so they can watch him try to subtly fidget trying to find his prop before they get to the point in the scene where he actually needs it

all the actors just taking pictures together in the most brutal settings on set.

like Neil's makeup has his face all busted and everyone wants a selfie with him. they all have a photoshoot with the trashed cars. they have another one in front of the "happy 19th birthday junior" set. Neil is tied up at The Nest while they change his hair and Jean's and Riko's actors take selfies with him. another photoshoot with Neil handcuffed in the police car. all these settings in terrible scenes and the actors are in front of them with grins and peace signs

they're terrible.

[pissterdaniel]

painted over part of an E to create these glorious specimens

can't wait to trade phriendship bracelets at TIT

[roguerambles]

Make Love, Not War

Record of Ragnarök - Leonidas x Reader x Apollo

Warnings - 18+ Only. Adult Situations.

This is just pure silliness based on an anon from @rukia-writes

(...but seriously, I'll be disappointed if we lose them both now--)

Enjoy the rambles!

-

"You invited him?!"

Leonidas was strong. Very strong. You very much liked how very strong he was, especially when he directed that strength into extremely pleasurable pursuits.

But right now you were throwing your entire body against his delightfully broad chest in a futile attempt to stop him from launching himself at Apollo.

Apollo sipped from his chalice, peering thoughtfully at you as Leonidas snarled wordless insults under his breath. "I wasn't aware you were inviting the brute, either."

"Will you both listen to me?" Your feet slipped against the floor as Leonidas pushed with the strength of a colossus, and you grasped at his shoulders in a bid to get his attention. "I want to--"

You were cut off by Leonidas's arm sweeping under you, yanking you roughly into the air. You yelped and grabbed at his shoulders as he practically tossed you onto the nearby bed, before continuing his warpath towards the Sun God. "You shouldn't have come here, Apollo."

The Spartan spat his name like a curse, and Apollo tossed his chalice aside carelessly, rising to his feet with a sharp sneer on his flawless face. "And why not? What will you do about--"

They were both angry and terrifying and hot and you were impatient. "By the Fates!" You yelled, pushing yourself onto your knees. "Will you both knock it off and fuck me already?!"

Both men's heads snapped in your direction simultaneously.

"What--?"

"Have you lost your damn mind--?"

You were determined, however. You stood up on the bed - the soft, wide, unjustifiably unused bed you intended to do many, many things on with the two glorious specimens of manhood in front of you - and grabbed at the helm of your tunic. "Take off your clothes." You ordered, yanking the fabric over your head.

Apollo and Leonidas stared at you, expressions blank. You wriggled out of your bottoms, smiling smugly to yourself as you caught their gazes wandering, a telling darkening in their eyes. You dropped down onto the bed, glaring up at them challengingly as quiet hung over the room.

Leonidas broke the silence first. "I'm not sharing you with him--"

"Your clothes are still on." You interrupted. Leonidas scoffed, shaking his head, his eyes flickering towards Apollo. The Sun God looked between you and Leonidas, and you were pleased to notice the way his eyes trailed over your form, before running over Leonidas with an unmistakable spark of appreciation.

Leonidas clearly noticed too, and bristled somewhat. "You aren't serious--"

Apollo shrugged, then began to slip from his clothes. He had a more slender build than Leonidas, but his body was sculpted to perfection, like one of those ancient statues made flesh. "I know two gods at once might be...intimidating for a mortal..."

Leonidas growled, and for a moment you feared he would swing at his rival. Instead he grabbed the helm of his shirt and tugged it roughly over his head, tossing it aside. The exquisite musculature of his body on display as he tugged at his belt, the powerful muscle of his arms and abdomen flexing and contracting with every movement. Both you and Apollo were staring. "Just try to keep up."

Both men turned to you then, their expressions reminiscent of hungry lions eyeing a particularly delectable gazelle.

You were pleased with their progress.

-

"Apollo? Apollo, open up!"

Ares banged his large fist against the door, while Hermes watched from behind him, frowning thoughtfully.

"I cannot believe it!" Ares growled under his breath, pausing in his actions to turn to Hermes with an indignant look. "He's going to miss the fight!"

Apollo was always a bit...flighty, but Hermes highly doubted he would simply skip out on something to deeply important. The pride of the entire Greek Pantheon was on the line, after all. "Perhaps he--"

The door swung open, and a very grumpy, very naked King Leonidas of Sparta stood in the doorway, his expression thunderous. "What?" He demanded, as though he were not addressing two sons of Zeus himself.

...Hermes could not think of what to say, while Ares spluttered in shocked confusion. Clearing his throat, Hermes tried to regain his bearings. Had they somehow come to the wrong room? But why was Leonidas not ready either--?

A familiar pair of arms slid around Leonidas's waist, along with a familiar head of golden hair coming to rest on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" Apollo mumbled, leaning in to press his lips against Leonidas's neck. "Come back to bed...they're quite eager for more...oh, hello Hermes. Ares."

....whatever Hermes had been expecting, it wasn't this. "Apollo...?" He began slowly, watching Leonidas's frown deepen, but he made no attempt to move himself from Apollo's embrace. "We...the Round will begin soon--"

"Oh, that's off." Apollo said cheerfully, reaching around Leonidas to grasp the doorframe. "Find someone to take our places. The three of us would rather not be disturbed."

"Three of you--Apollo--!"

"Thank you!"

The door swung shut once more. Hermes stared at it blankly, while Ares appeared to have been genuinely struck dumb, gawking at the empty space in front of him.

Hermes had no idea how he was going to explain this to Zeus.

[oldwebmlp]

From: https://web.archive.org/web/20021027164017/http://www.angelfire.com/80s/babygoldenautumn/thelast.html

Text from page below the cut:

The Last

Somewhere, in the twilight corner of the saddest memory in my mind, there lives a unicorn. The earliest known legend of the Unicorn says that it is a creature so glorious, so virtuous, so beautiful, that Heaven vouchsafed the Earth only one specimen at a time. It is a matter of some consideration, then, that The Golden Autumn has become the home of so many Unicorns. Sadly, this new denizen who runs vagrant in our minds will indeed be the last to come to The Golden Autumn. The final season is upon us and the last autumn leaf has fallen. We have always known it was coming, but never had we expected it to be so soon. This last infant came to us not by way of the Lake of Origins as have the others, but in a mad and magical flurry of dreams and desires, taking the form of the unicorn you see below. When the flurry in which she arrived settled, she was revealed as unlike any other pony in The Golden Autumn: small, delicate features in deep earthy tones, altogether different from anything we had ever seen. Her name is Diaz, for though she does not speak, it is written as such in her eyes. To those of us who cherish this realm, she will always be known as "The Last".

[kitkat-the-muffin]

Absolutely obsessed with Mytho’s duality as the Savior Prince and Corrupted Damsel

What a glorious specimen

[kittybroker]

My dearest Sam the onion man (he is onion shaped)

Glorious onion shaped kitty truly an outstanding specimen! Worth a crazy big $100000 worth of money!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dear Headmage,

What would be your ideal date?

For no particular reason, of course….

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

"Dear me, Prefect!" Crowley gasped, a hand to his mouth. "Could it be that you and the other students... mean to play cupid for your teachers?!"

"What? Nooooo," you insisted, feigning ignorance. "I'm just curious! Isn't that how students are supposed to be? Brimming with curiosity and the willingness to learn?"

"Not on this matter, no!!"

"Come ooon, we won't do anything weird with that information. We promise!! ... Er, well. At least I promise. I can't speak for the others."

"Now see here! It's not on any students to ask about, nor meddle in, the private affairs of their elders," the headmaster chided, wiggling a finger. "You will cease sticking your nose into these matters at once--am I understood?"

"Awww..." You visibly wilted, not bothering to conceal your disappointment.

"I'm glad we've resolved this little dispute." Crowley clicked open a golden pocket watch and glanced at the time. His eyes bulged. "If you'll excuse me, I must be on my way! I'm running late for a very important date!"

"A date?!" You repeated, heart leaping into your throat. "With who!?"

"Why, myself, of course!!" Crowley confessed it without a shred of remorse. His grin, broad. "There can be no other to match me. I'm far too perfect of a specimen!

"I have a packed schedule today. First, a casual stroll throughout the campus to soak up the nice weather and to observe the staff and students. After that, a hearty meal full of luxurious meats and succulent fruits! Then a moment of self-reflection and contemplation to let the food settle... contemplating the meaning of life and how very fortunate I am to be my most glorious self.

"Perhaps I'll drop in a few remedial classes, or an extracurricular or two. The stars come out in the evening, so I think I shall take dinner under them! When at last my eyes begin to grow heavy and my body tired, I'll return to my nest and settle off to sleep, dreaming of what halcyon days tomorrow might bring~"

That's his ideal date?!

"Um, why didn't I hear 'work' in that entire schedule of yours... It's mostly eating, goofing off, and talking a whole lot about yourself!"

"Don't worry over the details, Prefect! You've promised to not dig deeper into this subject, and I expect you to keep your word!!"

With that, Crowley started to make his way off and toward the looming shadow of NRC' main building. It resembled a castle with its turrets and stoney walls--and if NRC was a castle, then surely Crowley was its self-appointed king.

Glittering crown and all.

[roosterbruiser]

𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰 𝐱 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝟐𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

You knew it as soon as you saw him for the first time. 

He was sitting just outside The Hard Deck, sipping a whiskey sour and watching the sun set in a glaze of glorious orange. You had stepped outside for just a moment, only to catch your breath. But you’d seen him sitting there, his honey-colored eyes so intently gazing at the sinking sun and his lips in a sweet smile. 

Something in your chest came loose when he glanced at you for the first time, when his cheeks flooded and he stuttered out an apology and offered to move his feet out of the only other chair so you could sit down. It felt like some anchor had come undone and you were free-floating to the freshwater at the surface, leaving behind all the murky bottom feeders you’d known before Bradley looked at you. It was like you immediately knew that this is how you would tell time: before he looked at you and after he looked at you. 

“Y’alright?” Bradley asked after a moment, the world almost alarmingly quiet around the two of you. Just some crying seagulls and crashing waves. “I really don’t mind moving! Wouldn’t mind the company either--honest!” 

As if to prove his point, he let his feet drop from the chair and pushed it towards you.

You didn’t trust yourself to form a syllable so you nodded, smiling a small smile, before sitting in the chair beside him. 

Bradley was a bit perplexed. One minute he was staring out over the ocean, thinking about his parents, and the next the most perfect fucking human specimen he’d ever seen was staring at him with a slacked jaw. Your cheeks were very rosy and your lips were swollen and your eyes were glossy--fucking perfect--and you were looking at him like you knew him. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked after a moment, eyebrows knit. 

You gathered your dress in your hands, fiddling nervously. Tilting your head and squinting, you looked at him again. You knew he was trying to place you--trying to figure out why you looked so familiar to him. 

“I don’t think so,” you told him. 

His chest grew warm at the first sound of your voice. 

He offered his hand, smiling. 

“I’m Bradley,” he said. “Promise I’m not always a chair hog.” 

You bit your lip, taking his hand in yours. And you just knew that his hand was one you were going to hold for a long time--a sturdy and sweet thing, one that fit into yours very nicely.

“Hi, Bradley,” you grinned. You knew it was going to fall out of your mouth, knew that those few glasses of wine you had were about to put in the work. “I think I’m your future wife.”

That day outside The Hard Deck feels like a very long time ago right now.

Right now, you’re lying on a different beach hundreds of miles away. It is warm, but not the same warm that California is. The sun is high in the sky, only a few wispy clouds drifting lazily up ahead. The sand is denser here, more white and less gold. There are much less people here, on this beach in Virginia, which you’re okay with. Less music, less hollering, less squealing, more room. 

The tired beach towel underneath your body smells achingly like your home with Bradley: detergent, cologne, fresh air. It’s soft against the parts of your body that are not covered by your bikini. 

You’re resting your heavy eyes, combing your fingers through Bradley’s damp curls languidly, trying not to squint up at the sun. He’s lying on his belly, mostly in the sand, with his cheek pressed against your belly. 

He’s somewhere between awake and asleep, his limbs heavy from carrying you around in the water--even though he would never admit that--and his belly full of the nectarines and cheese you brought in the picnic basket. Absently, he’s rubbing the smooth skin of your bump, humming softly when he feels your son nestle just beneath his palms. 

He’s always holding onto you in one way or the other--which he’s been doing since the very beginning. Things move fast when you tell someone that you’re their future wife, which you had never done before and he had never heard before. You were married before the following year, a spur-of-the-moment elopement just before his first big deployment after you two came together, and after a handful of years hopping all around the United States, you’re finally settled in his hometown together. 

And not long after you settled into your little bungalow, just catching your breaths after so many years on the move, did you discover you were pregnant. Your baby boy, whom you are going to name Archie Nicholas, is due in a few weeks time. He will be born in the warmest month of the summer--which is also the month you met Bradley all those years ago--which tickles you to think about.

The pregnancy has drifted forwards lazily, easily. You like it--pregnancy suits you. Just a bit of morning sickness, some swelling, and a few vivid dreams here and there. Bradley likes it, too--more than he cares to admit to anyone except you. 

Pregnancy has calmed you down, not that he needed you to calm down. You’re more slow-moving and sleepy now, always walking into his arms with pillow lines pressed into your cheeks and a yawn just behind your lips. You’re happy, an almost mindless kind of happy that just happens to you like that’s your natural state.

Bradley, who has always been an overly-attentive partner and sweet man, has only become more perfect in the months you’ve been growing your son. Kissing your belly in greeting each time he sees you, reading bedtime stories to your bump, struggling with that beautiful but complicated crib for a week, sending you baby names all day while he’s supposed to be working, bringing home those crab rangoons you’re always craving, playing with your hair in bed, telling you how big your baby is every week. 

You’ve known since the moment you saw him that he is the love of your life. And it is only reinforced every single day with every single breath that fills his lungs.

It’s simple, really. 

As simple as that board nose and those pert lips fall into your field of vision in the blue morning light. As simple as beholding him beneath the Virginia sun as he sips a lemonade and watches the clouds drift across overhead. As simple as watching his belly flex with laughter as he sprawls out on the floor after one too many whiskey sours.

You just know. 

You shift slightly, rolling your shoulders. 

“Y’okay, mama?” Bradley asks, voice thick with sleep. 

He blinks at you a few times and you hum in response, stroking the warm skin of your belly a few times. 

“M’fine,” you answer breathily. “Think your son is awake, though.” 

Like he’s been waiting for you to say it, Bradley feels movement beneath his cheek. This far along it feels much more pronounced, which he finds incredible. It’s tumbling and turning instead of little flutters. It’s a feeling that there is no mistaking. 

“No sleep for the wicked. Morning, sweet boy,” Bradley whispers to your son, pressing a couple open-mouthed kisses to your belly. “Mama too relaxed for your liking?” 

You laugh softly, glancing down at him. He’s grinning up at you.

“He prefers it when I’m his human rocking chair,” you breathe out, smiling when a foot or an elbow presses against your palm. “As in--moving.”

Bradley tuts, gazing up at you as you let your eyes slip shut again. 

You are still, without a doubt, the most perfect person he’s ever seen in his life. You have those glossy eyes and perpetually-swollen lips that he loves, which are only enhanced when you have enough drinks to get giggly. You’ve grown and flourished with life these past eight months, becoming fuller and pinker with joy as you’ve grown yours and Bradley’s firstborn child. 

It’s been precious, really, watching the person he loves the most carry his baby. He wasn’t sure you could ever get more precious to him, but you’ve continued to prove him wrong time and time again. 

He was enamored the first moment he saw you, all in and head over heels by the second date when you read his Tarot cards and completely bullshitted your way through it. 

When he proposed, only a few days before you two got married in a shitty courthouse in his service khakis and one of your old dresses, he thought that was when you were most precious to him: throat flexed with laughter, tears brimming your eyes, toothy grin on your lips. 

Then he thought you would never get more precious to him than when he came home from that first deployment, when he walked into the house to paper flowers decorating the walls and diced fresh fruit on a platter--which you knew is what he missed the most on the carrier besides you. And, even now, this is how you greet him when he comes home from deployment. All those sweet, hand-cut paper flowers and laboriously diced fruit just for him. 

There was even one night, just before you made the big move to Virginia together, when his heart screeched to a halt when he saw you. Naked in the early morning light, strewn across your floral sheets, hair standing up every which way. You were snoring softly, sleeping through the alarm you set. And in the doorway, with a mug of coffee in his hands for you, he thought that was it: he would never love you more than he did right there.

But then one day, he came home from work and found paper flowers taped to the bedroom door and a plate of fruit cut up. And you’d explained to him, with tears in your eyes and every single box from the move still ready to be unpacked, that you were going to give him a child. 

Every single day since then, even on the days that you cry over Toyota commercials and suddenly can’t stand the stench of beer, you have only become more precious to him. More precious than he ever knew one human could be to another. 

“Give mama some peace,” Bradley mutters, pressing his palm against your belly. You smile, your throat warm just listening to your husband speak to the baby that is so nearly in his arms. “She’s precious, did you know that? Of course, you’re precious, too. But mama’s our girl. Gotta let her sleep so she doesn’t fall asleep during Breaking Bad again.” 

Your whole body vibrates as you laugh, the calling seagulls in the distance no match to your booming laughter. Archie kicks at the movement, at the sound. Bradley’s laughing, too, moving closer to you. 

“I’m growing a human here,” you defend, a grin still biting your lips. “I don’t have time to get involved in Walter White’s life.” 

Bradley’s teasing, of course. He doesn’t mind that you fall asleep every single time you try and watch Breaking Bad together--which is a show you insisted that he couldn’t watch without you. In fact, he enjoys those moments. Just as soon as your cheek presses into his shoulder, the popcorn bowl propped on your belly rising and falling steadily with your breaths, he kisses your hair and pauses the show. And then he just sits quietly pressed against you, thinking about the day you give birth to his first son, thinking about how precious you have become to him through the years. Honestly, he would prefer to sit there nestled on the couch with you over any episode of any television show ever. 

“Baby, you know you can do whatever you want,” Bradley says softly, stroking your cheek as you settle back against the beach towel. “You’re giving me a baby. I’ll give you whatever you ask.” 

You hum, lacing your fingers in his hair again. 

“Give me thirty more minutes of this,” you sigh happily, closing your eyes again. “And then we can go home.”  

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @cherrycola27'𝐬 𝐓𝐆𝐌 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧! 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬, 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲! 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚!

@violetta-ximena

@hazyretina

@illicithallways

@callsign-cacti

@chicomonks

@royalpurplehuskies

@widemiffyhappy

@djs8891

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@princess76179

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@wolfiealina

@hangmanscoming

@whoeverineedtobe

@fragile-heartt

@averyhotchner

@jjlevin

@bradshawseresinbabe

@unhinged-btch

@bradshawbabe

@lt-spork

@maddievevo

[the-90s-music-colosseum]

Round 2 Group D Match 6

expand for propaganda! (major wall of text warning)

Henry Rollins:

"Honestly, Johnny Mnemonic Henry with the glasses and the lab coat was pretty hot"

"A wonderful physical specimen. Plus he’s really funny and weird….best hot ones interview of all time."

"I want him to run me over with a bus"

Stephen Malkmus:

"i can't even stand stephen malkmus but there's a very special girl out there who needs this win"

"My perpetually stoned, nonsensical girlfriend...if we don't invent the time machine soon I might die. He's like 6 ft tall so unfortunately I'd be like one of those birds that ride on giraffes and eat bugs out of their fur. And then I'd die in a weed accident during the recording of Wowee Zowee? Before that though I'd spend 25 hrs a day in bed with him. Alright thanks"

"Stephen Malkmus chronically addicted to moaning and gasping in Pavement songs like he’s getting the best dicking down of his life in the back of the tour bus while everyone else is asleep"

"This is the indie-label match, right? Then it has to be Malkmus, he *made* the scene. And he's still releasing excellent music today. He's just the most influential rockstar of the 90s."

"my gay pavement fan uncle gets out of prison tonight and he knows you ratted him out in '06. the only way to make this right is to vote for stephen"

"Pretty please vote for him, my friend loves him and he really wants him to win"

""There were times he refused to speak to his bandmates, pulling a jacket over his head and referring to himself as "the little bitch"." I have also heard him refer to himself as a brat, a queen, a primadonna, a sociopath, and a narcissist. All of these descriptors have made me want to slam him against a wall and turn his neck fun new colors."

"I mean, Pavement is THEE indie band of the 90s. The lowkey snark, Koreaaaa, so much style that it's wasted. And Malkmus is an understated cool rockstar: the hair, the face, Silver Jews! He never ever sold out. He's the 90s."

"the most beautiful man ever he looks like a gorgeous fairytale prince. he has been hot since he emerged on the scene and continues to be so as their reunion tour comes to a close. stephen forever"

"we have to consider the autism swagger. find me a pavement write up that doesn’t spend three paragraphs waxing lyrical on his inability to make eye contact. find me a YouTube comment section that doesn’t have hoards of moms swooning over his flat affect. his refusal to wear anything more formal than a flannel for the first decade of his career? genuinely culturally influential. 30 glorious years of expressionless performances. sunglasses in the dark. so many straight men falling over themselves for him they made a joke about it in the Barbie movie. raw tbh sex appeal. and he’s got a great nose"

"he had a couple of unfortunate haircuts during this period but highkey i would break both of my arms to just be able to make out with him. please vote for SM my life is in danger if you don't"

[peterdoesart]

So my brother and I were chatting about his classes, and we ended up coming up with a glorious frankenstein-esque story idea that I wanted to share in case y'all had thoughts or wanted to use it:

- So it starts with the human bio students and chemistry students deciding to see if they can create the life-preserving fluid and perhaps, create life.

- Over time, the physics students get curious and start observing. The chemistry and human bio students need some equipment for the project, so a few of the physics students enlist the engineering students.

- The engineering students start losing their minds as they attempt to interpret the requests of the chemistry students and the human bio students.

- The philosophy students and literature students start observing, discussing Frankenstein and whether or not these science idiots should play god or not.

- The psychology students start observing and taking notes on the other students, like professionals observing a tank of specimens.

- We haven't figured out where the teachers are in all this. Maybe that's where the human bio students sourced the body parts from lol

[lingeringmirth]

Written horribly late for @steddie-week day 4. body swap. I'm so peeved that work swamped me and I couldn't finish the week when it was on-going, but better late than never?

Rated: M | Words: 600 | tags: body swap, pre-steddie, banter, post- S4

Also on AO3!

”Fucking hell!” Eddie stared into the mirror, Steve Harrington’s dumb-struck reflection looking back at him.

He’d fallen asleep in his own bed, but it wasn’t where he woke up. No. He woke up in Steve Harrington’s horrible plaid bedroom in the Harrington house, confused and a little bit scared… and apparently having swapped minds with Steve.

If he hadn’t lived through the horror of the spring break from hell he would have been panicking a hell of a lot more, which didn’t mean he wasn’t panicking quite a bit right now. But… when taken in the context of horrible and great things actually existing, a little bit of body swap wasn’t the worst thing. Maybe?

Still, what the actual fuck?

Despite his shock, or maybe emboldened by it, he really wanted to take a peek under the boxers Steve had worn to bed. Sue him, he was but a man and Steve Harrington was a specimen. His eyes caught on the scars over Steve’s sides, which he had seen before, and travelled up to focus on his glorious hairy chest, where some scars also shone through the thicket.

Of course.

Some of the scars matched Eddie’s own, althoughhe’d been injured worse and had been in the hospital for a month and in PT for six times that long. Point was, the bites must have connected the them somehow, strange as it was. He had been having an X-rated dream about Steve last night, too.

The shrill ringing of the phone interrupted him just as he was sliding his fingers under the waistband of Steve’s plaid boxers, as if the walls weren’t enough.

”Eddie?”

Having his own name frantically said to him in his own voice was a bit dizzying, more surreal than seeing someone else’s face looking back at him from a mirror.

A choked noise came from the other end of the line, like someone had swallowed a lemon.

”Hell! What is this?”

”What’s what?” Eddie had to be a little bit teasing, maybe even petty, as he regretfully drew his hand away, lamenting that he wouldn’t, at least for the moment, get to see, or feel, what Steve Harrington had in his boxers.

”Munson! You know what! I woke up in your bed, in your body, and not like I’d ---”

Oh-ho. Interesting. The grin felt a bit different on Steve’s face, but Eddie knew he was grinning wide enough to split his face. Had Steve been dreaming about him, too?

”Not like…” he wheedled, voice sing-songy.

There was a groan. ”Fuck it. Not like I’d imaged being inside your body.”

Eddie short-circuited despite having been pretty sure what Steve would say. But imagining it wasn’t quite the same as hearing it.

”You’re gay?!”

That could have come out a bit better.

”Bisexual.” He could just see the smirk he heard in his own voice, which was weird as fuck.

”I’m gay,” he blurted, brain still scrambling to catch up with the situation, all his inhibitions, scarce as they were, fleeing the scene.

A huff. ”I know. You’re not subtle.”

”Wanna try seeing if fucking will fix this?”

What was his mouth even saying at this point? Bad brain, bad!

”Fuck yes.” Was that a whimper? Eddie hadn’t known he sounded like that. ”I’ll be right over.”

Eddie was left with the dial tone and a raging hard-on in the horrible plaid boxers, letting himself have permission to peek. Steve was coming over with the intention to fuck him, just couldn’t get too carried away with it.  

Maybe a body swap wasn’t that bad, after all?

[ohmenai]

Blooming Primal Beefcake

...As I adjusted the focal length on my OhMenFlex, I took in the glorious specimen before me. A man strong and rugged like an orangutan. His physique was a masterpiece, muscles rippling under his black skin, each curve sculpted to sinful perfection...

[pocketseizure]

Kohga meets his hero in Tears of the Kingdom. Said hero, Ganondorf, has no clue who Kohga is. Shenanigans (shenaniganons if you will) ensue

The Demon King was perfect. Kohga had expected him to be perfect, of course, but not this perfect.

A chiseled face scowled above shoulders that could bear the weight of the full earth in all its fecundity. A magnificent cascade of flame-red hair framed his noble mien. Kohga was a fine specimen himself and not one to be daunted by even the most remarkable physical beauty, but it was difficult to concentrate with two necrotic phantoms clutching his arms behind his back in the inexorable grip of their malice-encrusted fingers.

Not that he was complaining. It was a stroke of sheer gorgeous serendipity that his latest foray into the upper troposphere had brought him down precisely into the sanctum of the legendary Demon King beneath Hyrule Castle. Kohga cursed himself for not having ascertained the location earlier, but he approved. Only a true genius would launch his attack from under the very feet of his enemies.

“What foolish creature dares to disturb me?” the Demon King demanded. “I await the Hylian hero, and you are not he.”

The phantoms clutched Kohga tighter. He could feel the searing burn of their grip through the heat-resistant fabric of his uniform, but he was not afraid. He considered it a glorious honor to be treated as a threat.

“I am Kohga, the leader of the Yiga Clan. We are your humble followers, my lord, and we have dedicated ourselves body and soul to your service.”

A deep frown creased the Demon King’s face, granting him an even more powerful appearance of masculine ruggedness. “I know all of my servants, from the lowliest Bokolin to the mightiest Frox, and I do not know you. Explain yourself.”

Nothing could have pleased Kohga more. “Since time immemorial, we of the Yiga Clan have sought to undermine the royal family of Hyrule to pave the way for the coming of your lordship,” he boasted. “We have yet to find the princess, but we of the inverted eye keep a close watch on her chosen knight, striking whenever the opportunity presents itself.”

The Demon King’s amber eyes narrowed. “So you say, yet still he walks this land.”

“You are not wrong, your lordship, but this is not a cause for concern. Our strength lies in numbers, and in probabilities. I have fought the knight four, no, five times myself, and we acquire valuable information with every confrontation. In our last battle, I perfected the rocket technology capable of blasting us into space! Well, I mean,” Kohga corrected himself, “technically into the stratosphere, but mark my words. At the rate we’re going, we’ll make it to the moon! Why, just the other day, I –  ”

The Demon King raised a hand to interrupt his monologue. “You survived your battles with the knight who wields the sacred sword,” he said, slowly curling his fingers into a fist.

“Y-yes.”

“Five times, you say.”

Kohga nodded, beginning to sweat under his mask. There was nothing he loved more than enacting performances of his battles with Link, but it only just now occurred to him that he may have accomplished a feat that not even the mighty Demon King himself had managed to pull off.

“Very well.” The Demon King nodded, and the magic of his phantoms dissolved in a gradual shedding of crimson light. “I’ve long wondered about what lies beyond the borders of this miserable land. Now tell me,” he continued, a devilish grin spreading across his divinely handsome face, “everything you know about rockets.”

[roguerambles]

Options

Record of Ragnarok - Male!Reader

Warnings - Mentions of Adult Situations. Jerkass Gods being Jerkasses.18+ Only.

Image from Google.

So, I may have started Record of Ragnarok yesterday. It’s a bit of slow start, but I find the concept and character designs fascinating, so I’m pretty intrigued!

I’ve also wanted to write Male!Reader for a while, but muse has been pretty low for me lately. I think this helped, because I’ve got some ~ideas~ kicking around in my brain box haha. This is kind of a prologue of sorts for future shenanigans (Most of which involve a son of Aphrodite sleeping his way through Ragnarok, oops-) Enjoy this blasphemy!

-

The Einherjar were delicious.

Oh, you were certain that was not why Brunhilde had selected the champions of humanity, but it hadn’t escaped your notice the men were gorgeous. Some of the most beautiful men in existence, the most skilled, virile warriors to have ever walked the earth were all gathered in one spot, adrenaline in their veins as they prepared for the battle that would decide humanity’s fate.

And there you were. Stuck on the Heavens side of the Arena, where Mother Aphrodite had insisted you remain, completely unable to interact with any of them.

It was so unfair.

“Do stop pouting, darling.” Aphrodite sipped at her chalice of wine, glancing at you over the head of one of her servants. “You’re bringing down the mood somewhat.”

Round One was over, decided in the gods favour. Lu Bu, the Flying General, the Strongest Warrior in the Three Kingdoms, had been defeated, his soul now gone from the Gods Realm. An absolutely glorious specimen of mortal manhood you would now never share a bed with.

Of course you were pouting.

“Am I being punished for something?” You asked glumly, watching as Thor fought his way through the fallen Lu Bu’s army, charging in to avenge their general, or share his fate. The God of Thunder’s muscled body rippled with power as he tore through his attackers like wet paper, and you bit your lower lip, crossing your legs, heat flaring low in your gut, imagining that strength turned to more pleasurable uses.

“Nonsense, darling.” Aphrodite waved her hand dismissively, a smile playing on her lips. “If I was punishing you, I would have told you about the human “incarnation of desire” currently bedding his way through half the arena.”

You liked this man already, and gave your mother a betrayed look. “What did I do?!”

Aphrodite simply smiled, and turned her attention back to the arena. “Consider the options, dear, and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

You slumped back in you seat, glowering.

It was not as if there was a lack of options on the Heavens side. Aside from Thor himself, Lord Shiva had sat near you and Aphrodite throughout Round One, his naked torso showing off a flawless physique. His biceps were exquisite and practically begged to be caressed, and his four arms and their possible bedroom applications sent your imagination reeling. Heracles was somewhere around, and you had always wanted the opportunity to fully test the God of Fortitude’s stamina…

But everyone was fixated on the damn fighting that all your attempts at flirtation were largely unnoticed.  

So unfair…

But Thor would be celebrating his victory, his blood hot and passions inflamed. Surely Aphrodite wouldn’t object to you going to congratulate him...?

“Mother—”

“Ares, what did you think about the battle?”

You huffed and slumped in your chair as Ares approached, his grumpy expression brightening at your mother’s attention.

You settled for watching the muscles move under Thor’s skin as he began to leave the arena, the bodies of his foes dissolving at his feet. He glanced up into the stands, and you went still as his gaze met yours. For a (only slightly) embarrassing moment you feared he had somehow sensed your thoughts. You caught the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his stoic mouth, the faintest tilt of his head in acknowledgment, before turning and continuing on his way, quickly disappearing from sight.

Maybe if I’m quiet nobody will notice me sneak away…

You glanced around. Aphrodite was distracted talking with Ares, who at this moment only had eyes for her. Lord Zeus and Hermes were curiously absent from the King’s balcony, and Lord Shiva was gone too. You knew he was meant for Round Two, so you assumed he must have went to prepare.

Perhaps I should wish him good luck…

You slid out of your seat, casting one more look over your shoulder, then slowly crept towards the exit, careful not to make any noise.

Almost…almost…

Your fingers grazed the cool stone doors. You froze in place, waiting for a scolding, but you heard nothing but the murmur of the crowd, of gods chatting eagerly about the upcoming match.

You pushed the door open slowly, just a enough to slip through. It then closed behind you, leaving you in the dim light of the corridor outside.

Yes.

Elation flared within you, and you barely resisted dancing on the spot, your mind already whirling with possibilities. Biting down a grin, you started walking, glad you had decided to wear your most appealing outfit. There was time before the next Round, and plenty of people to spend time with…

It was, after all, good to consider one’s options.