#who knows LOL

[bi-writes]

Ooo ooo ooo know what I think Simon in MOB would love?? a fashion show after he picks up his girl from shopping. I mean she seems like the kinda of girl to show off what she got, cuz simply she’s just so excited and he’s just so grateful for a show from his little love

mail-order bride (18+)

it's always raining lately. the weather has been cooling as the winter months get closer, and the rain has been a constant reminder of the days coming that would be spent inside.

simon didn't mind spending time inside. he liked being inside, in his house, away from others. when he was home, it was just you there. thing 1 and thing 2 occasionally appear, but it's you that takes up the space in the kitchen watching your dough rise impatiently, you that takes up that corner spot on the couch with your favorite knit blanket with a terrible movie on. the sight of that, he'll never get over it--he'll never get used to the pretty girl that lives in his house and wears his ring and sleeps in his bed and says his last name when they ask her, "your name, ma'am?"

his phone buzzes in his pocket as he ducks his head to get into his truck. he pulls it out, sighing, starting up the car when he reads your message.

all done! waiting at the corner.

when he turns onto the main street, he sees you standing at the corner with your umbrella, waving at him with a big smile. he can't help the one that blooms under his mask; fuck, he's beaming whenever he looks at you.

he puts the car in park, coming out to greet you. you hop on your toes as he comes around the car, and he dips his head under the umbrella as you stand high on your toes and kiss him over his mask.

"simon--"

"missed ya."

"it's only been a few hours--"

"'s too cold ta be out 'ere, baby, let's get ya inside."

you hum as he smooths his hands over your jaw, giving you another kiss through the mask before picking up the shopping bags that you're holding. he takes the umbrella from you, holding it as he guides you off the curb and into the passenger side of the car. he smacks your ass gently as you hop up, and you squeak when you sit down, giggling as you push at his chest.

"simon!"

"wot? wot did i do?"

"you're a dog, i swear."

"dunno wot y'mean, baby, tha's my wife in my car, and she looks bloody lovely."

you bite your lip, shaking your head.

"get in the car, simon, jeez..." you whisper, but your mind is running, and simon is looking way too good in this leather bomber jacket get-up he decided to pull out today. fuck, his arms have never looked so big, have they? has he been working out more?

just as he leans in for more, you put a hand on his chest, smiling down at him.

"slow, down, simon..." you touch your nose to his. "i got a surprise for you. let's go home, hmm?"

simon always skirts over the speed-limit, but you hold his hand extra tight as he swerves a little more than usual on the way home.

when you make it inside the warmth of your house, simon helps you take your jacket and boots off, hanging everything by the door and ripping his mask off so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck and kiss you there, his words muffled as he tries to talk between kisses, as if not kissing you might deprive him of something as necessary as breath.

"wot's the surprise?" he whispers, and you turn around to face him, giggling as he cups your cheeks and kisses you firmly, on the mouth, feverish and eager. "taste like chocolate, buy some sweets while ya were out, did ya?"

"simon--"

"fuckin' hell, don't say my name like tha'," simon groans, backing you up until you hit the wall with a gentle thud. his hand slips into your hair to cushion it, his hand taking the weight of the wall as he kisses you again, harder this time. "so pretty, tell me--"

"simon!" you laugh, "just go sit down...sit, you're so impatient--"

he can't sit still. his knee is bouncing as he sits on the couch, and he sucks on his teeth as he watches the door of your bedroom. it's closed, and he can hear you moving around behind it. a few moments later, you open the door just slightly, poking your head out with a sheepish smile.

"ready, simon?"

"fuckin' hell, ready since the day i was born."

you swing open the door, bouncing into the living room. simon raises his fist to his mouth, biting on it, and he curses under his breath when he sees you wearing the most adorable dress he's ever seen.

it won't see the light of day for a few months since it's nearing winter, but you could wear it at home all you like (he hopes you wear it every fucking day).

it's cherry red. big fluffy skirt, made up of many layers. it's made of linen, with a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves, and it is perfectly tailored to you. simon closes his eyes for a moment, fuckin' get it together, mate, and when he opens them again, you're standing there in the living room, very sheepish, hands behind your back.

"do...do you like it?" you ask. "i...they had this dress there when i went a couple weeks ago, but none of them fit, so i...i asked if we could take my measurements, and..."

"jesus fuckin' christ," simon breathes, leaning his head back against the couch. "baby, please stop talkin'. just for a minute, olright?"

"oh...okay."

simon takes a deep breath. he raises his palms to his eyes, and he rubs them hard. he keeps his eyes closed as he shifts his hips, smoothing a big palm down his stomach before taking a look at you again. he groans a little when he sees you again, standing there all shy, timid, nervous.

"give me a spin, luv," simon murmurs. you take the hem of your skirt and do a small twirl for him, spinning on your toes in the living room. simon clenches his jaw as he watches the skirt flutter a little, the layers underneath swishing and then falling over your thighs again. simon adores a good skirt; it's his favorite thing in the world to put his hands up them, to fondle the lace or cotton of your panties underneath it, to watch your chest rise and fall in panting breaths when he takes you apart with his fingers. he's in love with the way your breasts will fill the neckline of your dress, practically spill over when you bend at the hip and present yourself for him.

christ, he needs to fuck you.

simon cups himself through his jeans, and he relishes in the way your eyes widen. he unbuckles his belt, popping the button and shoving his jeans down until they sit just low enough that he can take himself out. your knees buckle a little as you watch him, your lips parting as you stare at the way he spits into his hand and spreads his wet palm over the tip of him.

"simon," you whisper, your hands wringing together as he tilts his head to the side and smooths his hand down his length. he grunts, shaking his head.

"pull y'r dress down," he murmurs, and you grow warm all over. your toes curl a bit; he's so big, tip nice and wet and pink. the girth of him shocks you, but it's always felt so nice in your mouth. you know how good it'll feel inside you, when you sit on him finally, when he-- "pull it down, baby."

you swallow hard, slipping the sleeves down your shoulders a little. you push it down just a little, just until your tits fall over the neckline and spill out. simon groans loud, his hand moving just a little faster, his head shaking a little more.

"come 'ere, baby," he says lowly, patting his lap. "come 'ere, let me put my mouth on ya."

you walk over shakily, making your way to him. you put your hands on the back of the couch before you settle with both knees on either side of him. as soon as your tits dangle in his face, he's leaning up and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you gasp, arching your back, and even with your skirt covering your laps, you can still hear the wet slap, slap, slap of simon's wet palm frantically pumping his cock.

"fuck--fuck," simon croaks, letting your go. there's a bit of drool pooling along the side of his mouth, and he swallows it down before nodding towards you. "sit back, sweet'art, let me see--"

you put one palm on his knee, leaning back, and use your other hand to gather up your skirt and lift it. simon sucks on his teeth as he sees your cunt, wet panties sticking to it, and he moves his hand a little faster.

"please cum, simon," you beg, your fingers pushing your panties aside. his face falters a little, his hand moving just a little sloppier, and you whimper. "please--please give it to me--"

he lets out a low breath as he cums, aiming at your cunt and watching as he paints your folds. you use your fingers to spread it, dipping your fingers inside yourself with a whine before moving them against your clit gently. simon uses his other hand to grip your hip, drawing you just close enough that he can smooth his cock through your folds, spreading your slick and his own cum and making a mess between your thighs. he chuckles, hearing you cry out, and you meet his eyes with tears.

"just the tip," you beg, moving your fingers along your clit faster. simon grins, so mean, licking his lips. he makes no move to help you, but he doesn't put himself back in his pants, either. "simon, j-just the tip--c-can i have just the tip?"

"oh, just the tip, luvvie?" simon murmurs. "think ya can take it? just tha'?"

"please--!"

your fingers are in a frenzy. it's so close, you can feel it, that beautiful mountain, you're climbing it, clawing your way up, and you just need a little more.

"simon!"

you nearly fall backwards. if it wasn't for his hand gripping your hip, you would've, but he catches you easily, his brows furrowing together as the tip of him slips inside of you nice and easy. your hips jerk a bit, rolling as you use just that much of him inside of you to bring yourself closer and closer and closer--

"fuck," simon breathes when he feels you cum. you tighten, sucking him in just a little more as you spill around him. globs of sticky slick pool along his cock, and you use a shaky hand to grip him gently and keep him there. even with just the tip, it feels so nice to be connected to him, to have him inside you, even just a little. your brain feels fuzzy and warm, your legs feeling blissfully weak as your spine melts a little into his hand just enough. he leans you forward until you're resting on his chest, and you squeak when he slips out of you. simon wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close, and your eyes flutter shut as you mouth at his neck absentmindedly.

"can't wait for it," you whisper against his skin. he's hot there, a little sweaty, and you lick timidly up his jaw to taste him. he grips your hair tight, smiling, and he pulls you back just a little so he can look into your eyes.

"and wot are y'gonna wear when i finally have ya, aye?"

you smile back, giggling soft.

"absolutely nothing, of course."

[ooffmlsorry]

One Piece Men Dealing with a Dangerously Reckless S/O

context: by dangerously reckless I mean someone who never has a second thought about throwing themselves in harms way and doesn't care what it does to them

t/w: passive suicidality, self harm? (better safe than sorry) angst. Mentions of blood, injury, and death

LAW

It'd probably lead to a big argument where he threatens to kick you off his crew because losing you would legitimately be the death of him. He can't lose anymore people he loves to violence. When Bepo tells Law you didn't even hesitate to plunge into a thicket of razor wire to help your crew mates escape, it doesn't read as admirable to him. It reminds him too much of himself on Spider Miles. After he gets your side of the story, which pretty much confirms it, he doesn't talk to you at all while he cleans the mud and blood from your skin and stitches the slashes that cover you from head to toe. Normally, even if you've fallen asleep, he talks you through your treatment, but not after your stunts. He's that...scared? Angry? Distraught might be the right word. Every time you do something like this, he's speechless because his thoughts are racing with the reality of losing you. He feels sick to his stomach. On nights like these, he doesn't know whether to sleep far away from you or hold you so close to him you can't breathe.

LUFFY

At first, Luffy doesn't care. He has the utmost faith in his crew, and they put themselves in harms way all the time! Getting injured is just being a pirate sometimes! That's pre-timeskip. Post-timeskip Luffy still has a lot of faith in his crew and a lot of faith in his ability to protect his crew, but he's...different. He believes things are always going to work out no matter what and if they don't he'll make them, but sometimes he wakes up in the middle of night and stares at you, tracing all the scars you've gotten from one fight or another. And then the what-ifs begin to creep in and the nightmares start. After literally diving into a sea king to retrieve Nami's log pose and Chopper has patched you up yet again, you wake up to Luffy calling out for you in his sleep, sweat dampening his hair and his face twisted in fear. You soothe and shush him until his breathing evens out, but he holds you tighter still. It's not in his nature to "bench you" or doubt your strength just because he's in love with you. That would be controlling and doubting you, and he would never do that. But that doesn't mean Zoro and Sanji don't take notice, even if Luffy won't say anything they make it extremely hard for you to pull off any careless "heroics."

ZORO

Much like Luffy, Zoro doesn't think much of it for a while for the same reason. This is the guy that was completely ready to cut his own legs off, after all. But that doesn't mean it doesn't concern him, especially because you don't seem to have a rhyme or reason for all the shit you pull. And he would say something to you about it. Maybe not directly after you jumped straight into Marine gunfire to cover a little girl, he just wants you to be alive at that point. But after days of taking care of you as your wounds slowly heal, after he's certain you're not going anywhere this time, he'd make sure the two of you are somewhere alone and quiet to talk. As far as Zoro's concerned not going down without a fight is completely fine, dying for your dream isn't considered giving it up, but acting like it isn't a possibility is stupid. And he'd tell you as much. For most of this he wouldn't be able to look at you, just because if he does fear is going to take hold of him, but for that last bit he would. Zoro would search your eyes hoping you understand what he's saying. He'll tie you to the ship if he has to, he'd do anything if it saves you from being so stupid as to forfeit your dreams.

SABO

Dying for the cause is par for the course. It's a grim reality that Sabo begrudgingly accepts, although he does have a bit of youthful naivety that it won't ever happen to anyone. He won't ever believe the revolution isn't worth it, but you do make him question it for the first time. He loves you so much he has to compare you to the whole world for a moment, and that's one of the worst thoughts he's ever had. Because the whole world still wins. The guilt would eat him alive until he blows up (somewhat literally) at you for drinking the last of a rare poison to keep it out of the enemy's hands. Angry tears roll down Sabo's cheeks. When he yells at you, he's shaking with anger and fear. It's not up to him, but he doesn't object when you're completely benched while you recover and for a little longer after that. It takes a while for him to no longer angry and scared out of his mind, but once he is he's back to himself. If can visit you every day he will. He has hope for the world's future, and hope for yours too. He's not leaving either behind.

[spittyfishy]

I’ve been wanting to redraw the Protagonists group shot since finally knowing who Komaru is and I finally did it! It was super fun to draw them all together!

[verianal]

can you draw dnp with a cat AND a dog? if you can and want of course

Here u go anon ^^ !!

[loullaby]

fuck it friday

i'm making some progress on the "tommy takes buck to vegas" fic finally! it's over 2k already, so i thought i'd share it to get some motivation lol

thanks for tagging me @wikiangela <3

“So… Goodnight”, Buck said, but didn't move. “Goodnight, Evan”, Tommy answered, so close to Buck’s face that he could feel his breathing. This close, he could see how blue Tommy’s eyes were. While Buck’s eyes were like the color of the sky, Tommy’s looked like the ocean and he wanted to drown in it. That thought took him by surprise, but he wasn’t scared.  He wanted Tommy closer, he wanted Tommy's hands on him, he wanted his mouth… And that thought made him look down at his lips. It would be so easy to just close the gap between them. Buck could stop holding back, but he wasn't gonna jump before he knew if Tommy was gonna catch him. “Tommy, I…” But whatever he was about to say didn’t matter anymore, because Tommy’s lips were on his.

tags:

@aringofsalt @beefcakekinard @misterapril @theweewooshow @erodingsinner @disaster-j

@shaunashipman @agenttommykinard @stardustbuck @tommykinrd @xofemeraldstars

@tommysboyfriend @xofemeraldstars

@half-oz-eddie @evansboyfriend @eddiestommy @apartmentsmoke @ohithankyou

[loverofpiggies]

By the way, for those interested!

I am *definitely* gonna make a printed version of the Winter King comic. Thinking the first volume will be the first 4 chapters, maybe 5?

I'm already working a little on the files.

Also since I'm APPARENTLY terrible with naming things, I've been leaning towards Utopia, or Winter Paradise. I wanted to try and use bits from Winter King's song, and I've considered 'Making Something Wonderful' too.

[leroibobo]

the armenian cathedral of the assumption of mary in lviv, ukraine. it was built in the late 14th century by an armenian merchant who modeled it on the cathedral of ani, the seat of the armenian catholicos from the mid 10th-11th centuries. armenians have maintained a consistent presence in ukraine and eastern europe in general since at least medieval times.

[ceabu]

@gamkarsecretsanta !! sweet sweet kingdomstuck pale gamkar for @rusubble :o)

[writingsbymo-mo]

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Ran Haitani x f!Reader

Merry Christmas everyone 💕

A little suggestive, just a teeny bit

Note: Kids are mentioned

______________________________

You jolted from your position on the couch from a loud ruckus coming near the tree. "Shit!" You heard a familiar voice from over there. Of course, it was Ran...dressed in a Santa suit? When did he get that?

"Shhh, Ran, you're going to wake the kids! I thought you were asleep already." You whispered.

He stepped over to you and leaned in to give you a quick peck on the lips, tasting of the crumbs of cookies he just ate. "It'll be fine, darling. Why else would I be dressed like this, no?"

You sighed with a smile, placing a hand over your face. "I mean yeah, they'd be screaming with joy that's for sure but I don't know how they'll react if they see you kissing me," you teased as you poked m his stomach that clearly had a pillow stuffed under the red coat.

His arms snaked under you and hoisted you up. "Hmmm, I think we can just tell them Santa also had a gift for mommy this year."

Your face burned as you covered it with your hands. "Oh god, Ran!"

"Come on, let's get you to bed. We have a looong night waiting for us," he whispered huskily in your ear.

And next thing you know, you're both being woken up by your kids jumping on the bed, yelling "mommy" and "daddy" wanting to open presents at five in the morning.

Even so, the night was still worth the time.

[cnwolf-brainrot]

Kurt Wagner and Names

Just some headcanons/observations about Kurt Wagner and names because has anyone else noticed that he very rarely gets called by name? Seriously in any version the name "Kurt" is rarely mentioned.

So here's some thoughts I have about that:

Kurt appreciates when people call him by name. He likes his nicknames of course, but he's spent his whole like getting called things like "demon" "freak" "blue boy", etc. When people actually take the time to call him by his real name, he notices and appreciates it.

In a similar vein, he takes the time to call others by their names. He doesn't like using his friend's superhero names unless they're actively in the field because he feels like using the hero names can become dehumanizing.

He's also really good at remembering names.

As much as he appreciates his real name being used, he associates certain nicknames with certain people to the point that those nicknames are almost more impactful than his name. For example when Logan calls him "elf" it's something specific to them, and thus means more to him.

Idk those were just some thoughts I had based off of observations

[vegasvictor]

you don't belong in a wasteland — a robert house playlist (spotify | youtube)

i have seen the future - shock narcotic | one point perspective - arctic monkeys | goodbye, apathy - onerepublic | neon rust - frank carter & the rattlesnakes | survival - muse | robots don't cry - no more kings | light up the night - the protomen | oh dear brother - howard | the whole world and you - tally hall | i am my own muse - fall out boy | i have friends in holy spaces - panic! at the disco | new machines - vinyl theatre | stipulation - go! child | a good song never dies - saint motel | hotel california - eagles | goodbye mr a - the hoosiers | unintended - matt bellamy | science fiction - arctic monkeys

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Spirit Dragon

“Legend says that once every few thousand years, a spiritually adept princess of Hyrule can see a legendary dragon high in the sky, far above the clouds. People say it is a protector of Hyrule, and every time a Hero is born it sheds a tear.”

Referenced heavily from this beautiful art.

Clearly the art I worked off of is of the Light Dragon, so hence the head shape and pattern is the same, but I cannot just conjure beauty out of thin air unfortunately as I am no artist lol.

It ain’t great but I was pretty proud of this one :) I can’t quite get the colors I want, but it’s good enough. He’s supposed to have like beige/off-white scales, and I kind of got that color but not quite 🤷🏻‍♀️ his horns are supposed to look like crystalline feathers and be the exact hue of the goddess cubes in Skyward Sword. Also I’m pretty proud of his ear shape, I wanted to emphasize Sky’s curved ears and how they’re different from all the others. :)

Just ignore his sad little claws lol

[riversofmars]

Helen would like a taste actually.

[frogemeat]

More relativity Stan! And some Lazy Susan as well.

In this AU Lazy Susan takes Gideons place! The relationship between Stan and Susan is very similar to Gideon and Mabel’s, the only really difference being is that at first Stan thought Susan was cute, but realized he just liked her as a friend. Unfortunately Susan doesn’t quite like that lol

Also! Shanklin! In place of Waddles we get a feral possum that Stan wrestled out of a trash can at the fair, how fun! :) Having to draw Shanklin has made me realize I have no idea how to draw animals, so unfortunately you’re stuck with my VERY questionable possum anatomy.

[thebennettdiaries]

the oak king

( a little merry christmas to the Klonnie fandom )

Bonnie closes the door behind her, shutting away the cold (but more importantly the people). The world is so fast this time of year, moving with a sense of urgency that is counterproductive to its surroundings. There is so much noise, so many bright colors --- far too many expectations.

She doesn't want to be a part of it. At least not at the moment.

She is bone tired as she carefully sets her bag on the nearest flat surface. This room has been her home for close to three days now, a temporary stop on her never ending journey. As far as places to rest her head, she likes this one. It is cozy, just what she needs this time of year.

With her day's work done, Bonnie decides that she will slip into the bath and soak away any aches (any reminders of what she is missing). But first ---

--- just because she doesn't want to be a part of the madness of the world outside doesn't mean she will ignore it all together.

She reaches into her bag and pulls free the tiny branch of a fir tree sticking out of a pot. She had almost passed it by, resting on a table in an overcrowded Christmas market. But in the end, it had called to her and now it finds a home on the antique desk, giving it a view of the busy streets below where the snow is beginning to collect.

She runs a finger along it, feeling its dying strength as she does so. It should have never been clipped and stuffed into a tiny red container. It should have been allowed to continue its life uninterrupted. So, although she cannot fully restore it, she can do the next best thing.

Bonnie summons her magic, which has waned significantly after the day's demands. However, she just has enough left to tickle the branch back to its vibrant green. It stands a little taller, and for good measure, she leans in and blows. It seems to twinkle now, a more natural replica of its larger relatives littering homes all over the city.

For a moment, she stands there, thinking of all the Christmases that have come before this one. So many of them are filled with sadness --- missing her mother, missing her grandmother, worrying that death had been close by. Then there is that one she spent all alone in a pocket of the universe.

She has never really had Christmases worth remembering.

Her mouth is set in a firm line. She isn't sad now. She might be alone but this time she has chosen to be. She may no longer have roots but she is doing real good in this world. Besides, she knows damn well that Caroline will be Facetiming her to document every second of the Forbes Family Christmas (Bonnie rolls her eyes but deep down she knows she wouldn't miss it for the world).

She turns, leaving the tree to glimmer in its resting place. As she does so, she waves her hand and candles flare to life, basking the rest of the darkened room in a warm glow. She can already feel her magic stirring, beginning to rebound.

The hot water is filling the bathtub when her quiet is shattered by a knock at the door. She furrows her brows together as she slips her arms back into her sweater. She is done for the day. She is not interested in taking on anything else. She has earned this moment.

She waits a beat, hoping they will just give up and go back where they came from. When the knock comes again, more insistent this time, Bonnie sighs. So much for peace on earth.

She crosses the space in a few steps, intent on turning her visitor away. "I am not..." And then her voice dies. Her body tenses. It feels as if all the warmth she has created in her little room is pulled out the open door to lay at his feet.

A true ghost of her Christmas past.

Klaus Mikaelson stands there, looking at her in much the same vein she looks at him. Like he cannot fathom what he is seeing. It only serves to confuse her more --- because of the two, he is the one that has been dead for at least three years.

Then the moment is shattered and he gives her a wolfish grin.

"Merry Christmas, little witch."

[centaurisart]

An artwork i did for an art project in college. And is a humanization of Windblade and Metroplex in edo period type of style and clothing, well for the art project i need to talk about Ukiyo-e art time period so ye!

Lil doodle of them two below lol