#tiny leggy man

[flamboyant-king]

Im all over with the drawing today nyaha

My friend said draw a majestic Cammy pin up, but theyre just vibing

#if drawing were my job i would def be ble to draw eveeeyrryeyryry day but its not and its hard to draw nowadays and im upset about it #so im riding this high...too bad im getting sleepy ueue #tryna figure out cammy's leggies. theyre permanently fucked up but they can still stand and shuffle around #even as cammybara and cammypus the back legs arent so good. it translates through transformations because of the control over the limbs #are damaged themselves so even the magic cant reach it #oh oh remember that one draw i did where cammy and harbey were dancing in the kitchen #cammy was standing on harbey's toes. makes my heart melt #not in the pic but in my lil daydream that led to the pic... eli's parents love really influenced harbey's romance ideals #off that. look at tiny wiwi. #camellia #wiwi #these pinup girl drawings are so good so so good its crazy but i cant draw s e x y right now man im too busy eating fruits #i ate two bananas half a mango and like 12 grapes...i was full after the mango... #why am i telling yall this lmao #i guess im just procrastinating posting this. im shy haha i'm keeping these tags in tho...okay ill post this now. love yall ahha

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 1

“—But maybe someday when my ship comes iiiin~ She’ll understand what kinda guy I’ve been, an then I’ll win”

“Chrriiiisss!!” Eddie whined as he tossed himself onto his front, burrowing his head under the pillow

“And when she’s waaalkin, she’s loookin, so FI-I-IIIINE!!”

“CHRIS!!” It was no use, she couldn’t hear him. Too busy belting out Billy Joel in their little kitchenette at… he shoved his pillow aside, realising it was a fruitless endeavour to try and block out the dying cat that was his roommate.

They’d gotten in at just gone two in the morning after blowing the very last of their ‘rainy day’ fund on ten for two dollar shots at a local student haunt, and now it was… ten in the morning, they didn’t have jobs left to get ready for, he still hadn't been able to find his wallet anywhere.

And Chrissy was. Singing.

As if they didn’t have to start job hunting again or risk the fury that was their greasy landlord and his mission to extort them of all their hard earned money. They’d be out on their asses by months end if they didn’t find something soon and the band wasn’t raking in as much cash as he’d have liked for it to be raking in.

Last he heard some big shot was looking to buy the Hideout too, probably shut them down for good. That’d be just their luck.

“An when she’s TAAALKIN she’ll say that she’s MI-I-IIINEE!” He threw his covers off, accepting defeat. At least it smelled like eggs and bacon, so she was clearly cooking the last of their breakfast foods.

Chrissy was of course in her sleep shirt, legs bare, with naught but slipper socks to keep her toes cosy on the tile floors of their kitchenette, swaying to the vinyl player belting out Billy Joel by the open window. Many a man’s fantasy come true, Chrissy was a vision while lost in her favourite music, but to him, Eddie Munson resident flaming homosexual, okay she was still beautiful he had eyes, but those leggy legs and swaying hips didn’t do it for him, thanks. “CHRISS!!”

And she jumped, barely managing to save the bacon from winding up as a sacrifice to the dastardly floor gods. Whipping around to face him, she graced him with the signature Chrissy ‘sunshine smile’ which… didn’t track for the killer hangover she ought to have had given she had three rounds of those shots all in that tiny-ass body of hers.

“Eddieee!!”

“Chrisssyyyy, what’cha doin, Chriss?”

“Breakfast! And Billy Joel!”

“I see that, at… ten in the morning, after student night!” They weren’t students, Chriss could pass for one though “Whaaat’s going on?”

“Letter! The letter, on the top there, read it!” And she was turning her back again hips swaying, moving the foods over to two plates, the only two they currently had clean, oof, it was his turn on dishes, damn what he wouldn’t give for a dishwasher.

Curiosity piqued, he crossed the short distance (it wasn’t a large apartment) and plucked up the neatly tri-folded piece of paper, letterheaded with a real fancy SH logo, a business address and corporate phone number, the letter reading,

“Dear Tenant” he didn’t do inner voices, he had to read it out loud “This is to inform you that as of the week commencing June 12th the building will be under… under new… new ownership?!” He looked up, eyes wide with alarm.

“Keep reading!!” She prompted as if predicting his alarm, she wasn’t even looking at him, clearly jazzed about something, new ownership? The building had been sold from under them and she was happy? He looked back at the paper.

“At this time, we will be… suspending… suspending?” She nodded, turning with two plates in her hand to their tiny little table that Wayne had donated when they moved in “suspending your required rent payments as we… look toward renovating the building and all apartments within.”

“Keep reading, there’s more!” He sat down at his usual chair, paper held in both hands, eyes fixed to the print as he read.

“Any rent arrears accrued in the duration of the building renovations will be… hold up—”

“Yep.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, not joking, it’s official I called them this morning, took me ages to get through to someone but it’s legit, Eddie.”

“But—but shit like this—this doesn’t happen Chriss, and you know what the Police said that one time you got scammed, right? If it seems too good—” he was still looking at that word, that one little word that made all the difference.

“Then it’s probably too good to be true! I know, I know, but I got the confirmation from their office, I GOOGLED the number too, I didn’t just call the one on the letter cause I know scams can get’cha that way.” Although what kind of scam it could be was baffling as it wasn’t asking for money it was saying they wouldn’t be asking for money for a while “sobered my ass right up let me tell you, best hangover cure in the world, and Mrs Jablonski next door got one too! And Dottie across the hall, I’m pretty sure I heard upstairs yelling earlier, an I mean like happy yelling, not yelling yelling like usual. Cheering! I think it’s legit, Eddie…”

“So… we just… we don’t have to pay rent, at all… for however the fuck long these renovations take to happen? Do we have an expected completion date to these renovations? Or start date?”

“Nope, just a from week commencing, the lady on the phone had no idea about them but she got the confirmation from ‘upstairs’ and just said there’d be more information sent to us eventually and not to worry about it.”

“Not to worry—not to worry about it?” He wanted to worry about it, every fibre of his being demanded he worry about it. Not that they could even pay rent if it was asked for, they had no money and no jobs after he’d decked their line manager for calling Chrissy fat, she was not fat, and she’d only just stopped staring at herself in the mirror as if every inch of her was wrong. She’d passed the month mark since she‘d last forced herself to throw up. She was finally getting some plump back into her cheeks.

She was on the mend. She was recovering. And he’d just—Eddie had seen red. He just wished he’d have been wearing his rings at the time.

“You can call them if you want!” She spoke around a mouthful of sunny side up eggs. “I think whatever it was, was a really random decision high up, like… it wasn’t something decided upon by a board of directors or anything because she took a while to get confirmation about it, but—but I dunno Eddie, maybe… maybe things can be good for a while.” They wouldn’t have to panic about getting jobs.

Wouldn’t have to deal with grease trap Carl the guy who collected their rent every month who seemed to just… always be greasy. Hands, hair, face, clothes. Who’d look at Chrissy like she was a piece of meat, or make disgusting comments about how lucky Eddie was to live with her, while she was stood right there holding Eddie’s arm back stopping him from launching at the guy.

Wayne had offered to run the guy over one time “Would be a one an done, son, would catch him at just the right time as he left the place an be gone just as fast, wouldn’t even know I was there.” Like a grade A parent, with all the gold stars available at the local craft store. But Eddie could deal with Carl.

They wouldn’t have to anymore though. If this was legit, it meant Carl was gone. No more Carl.

“…Screw calling them, I think we should go down there and see what’s up.”

“M’kay, but eat your damn breakfast that’s the last of the maple bacon an you got the bigger piece.” If he immediately traded the bigger piece on his plate for the smaller one on hers, well… she only smiled over it, she liked the maple kind more than him anyway.

Or so he'd told her.

Part 3

#PirateWrites #FindersGiversFiclet #Steddie #Mob Boss Steve Harrington #No Upside Down AU #Shady!Steve #CW: Lighthearted stalker vibes #Robin gonna judge Steve /SO/ hard. #cw: mentions of past eating disorder

[aconflagrationofmyown]

but then…Gigi

An Elvis fanfic -chapter 3

Notes: finally a little update! There’s more coming up behind it I just needed to break it up a bit. Thank y’all for all the asks and the continued enthusiasm! Hope y’all enjoy! 💗

18+ content, sexual content, age gap and poor self esteem, parental neglect

Chapter Three

It’s stuffy inside the Stutz, humid air trapped inside it and in the garage; even Elvis Presley’s garage smells like mildew on this oppressive, stormy summer day. Her perspiration gluing her bare legs to his leather seats, Gigi tries in vain to pace her gasping breaths in the thick air.

Raising a jittery hand from its place balled in a fist on her thigh, she touches her lips in an effort either to relive or soothe the memory -she doesn’t know.

Elvis had kissed her.

Acting on her dare, he had kissed her. And it was no solitary peck or showy tongue plunge, it was a kiss so wanting and yearning and adoring as to make her feel it in her toes. Even now they were still tingling and her blood was roaring in her ears and if she wasn’t so overwhelmed with sensation and emotion, she might have found it in herself to touch herself to some completion just to make this pounding want for him moderate itself before the man himself appeared. Each passing second tore her between fretting over the unpleasant scenes that must be occurring inside the house and unadulterated glee over the thought of him finally helping himself to a portion of her.

She liked him a little selfish. It made her feel wanted, and it was a woozy, drippy, woolen headed feeling to be wanted by a real, red blooded man. Gigi hadn’t much experience with that, with the barrel chested, raspy voiced, brandy tempered men in their 40’s. Like a shot of whiskey after so many fruit drinks, his seasoned appraisals were flattering and dizzying all at once.

Her pulse roars and her thighs smack against each other with each shift against leather and helplessly Gigi closes her eyes and relives the feeling of his hands buried in her hair, cradling her face, thumbs anchored at her jaw, bending her to his kisses as his weight crushes her to the floor.

He’d been so large, so sturdy, so sure, ungiving yet plush all in the right mix. And she had felt him hanging low and prodding. The memory zaps her right where she had felt him thick and firm in his soft track bottoms and with a gasp tumbling from bitten lips she sneaks a hand beneath the hem of his jacket and into her sodden panties. As the time wears on she has some strange presentment that he’ll have lost the mood they were in and it’s out of a sort of despair that she chafes her slippery little hood in a quick bid for relief. She thinks about those thighs of his, sturdy and toned and furred as she’d seen them when in his swim shorts, she thinks about rubbing herself raw on them.

Her feet make a squeaking noise where they’re propped up against the glove box, her legs trembling from the sparks, widening as the feeling mounts. A quick squeak of friction and she catches herself and sucks on her lip, repositions those long legs to a sturdier stance and speeds up her hand in her knickers as the sweat pours down her neck, wets the back of her hair where it drapes down her back and his seats. Suffocated she yanks the zipper away from her neck, undoing the jacket down the glistening hollow of her navel. She flaps the edges to get a breeze.

Almost there, almost there.

What Elvis had not anticipated to find waiting for him in his Stutz after a predictably miserable finale with Ginger and Co. was the leggy beauty of his deepest, darkest, most far fetched daydreams fingering herself with unabashed gusto in the passenger seat.

Childlike in her concentration, with eyes closed and legs splayed so wide the entire windshield was like a projector for the damn show happening beneath a tiny nylon scrap, Gigi all bowed up under his unzipped jacket like a bowstring, teetering towards a damn good crescendo by the looks of her vibrating legs.

It was obscene.

Made more so by those fat titties of hers barely covered by his unzipped jacket, glistening with every heaving breath. All in stark constant to that angelic face. It was infuriating.

Something akin to jealousy animated Elvis enough to send him stumbling down the remaining step to land his bejeweled hands heavily enough on the car’s door frame to cause a clatter and frighten the daylights outta his lil nymphomaniac.

He’s not sure who’s blushing worse when those blue eyes fly open and she gasps,

“Elvis.”

in acknowledgement of his presence while doing nothing to remove the offending hand from between her legs. He had been able to hear the sopping wet mess between them and it takes him aback a little, this tangible proof of her carnal interest. He’d been doing a damned good job with Ginger, settling in for the quiet life of reading and tennis, no heady first encounters and only his stupid bouts of yearning causing him to commission stupidly erotic tokens of bygone potency like that welded belt with his name on it. A burdensome gift for an unwilling recipient.

Guess he’s gonna have to run by the jeweler and cancel that trinket, Ginger hasn’t any use for it now. But this, this is better than any of that. This is old fashioned and nasty, this way of Gigi’s cunt makin’ a sound like stirring Macaroni and Cheese between her legs. It’s both flattering and terrifying and his blood rushes to meet the challenge just as it had when he first found a woman lying in wait for him in his car after the hayride in ‘56. She’d had a husband, that lady, and a wet snatch that had dripped down to her very calves watching him put on a show. Elvis had put his whole fist up there and got fondled real nice for it before ending up with a busted face.

It’s been awhile since anyone laid in wait for him.

Finding such raw need for him oughta make him smile. Instead he finds it makes him pause, hand on the door handle. He didn’t think she was this sort.

“Lord forgive ya, you enjoyin’ yourself lil girl?” he mumbles with an edge to his tone as Gigi just sits there and shakes, teetering on the edge and not even ashamed, although her hand has stilled. He hates it, for one fierce second he’s irreparably cross with this virginal little harpy for having deceived him, for being so randy when he’d been so sure she needed protection and guidance.

He’s sick of being wrong about women, sick to death of it.

“Yessir, I am -was.” she whispers back to him, eyes wide and guileless, “I’m so glad you’re here.” she says with such obvious relief in her breathy voice and faith in his good intentions to satisfy her that he’s reminded suddenly what a baby she is, like a punch to the gut and kick to the conscience. He’s still leaning on the doorframe when she takes her hand outta those panties and he wants to be relieved until she stretches it towards him with all the pleading grace of a damsel in great distress, “I need you real bad.” she explains plaintively and all that well entrenched nonsense about how ladies oughta behave themselves when in public spaces like garages or pools, suddenly gets a little murky in Elvis’ head. Sorta floaty and fuzzy when met with the sticky, perfect, nectarine sweet smell of her want for him glistening on the tips of her fingers.

“The hell are ya, the serpent himself?” he grumbles even as he wrenches open the car door and heaves himself in alongside her, his belly wedged behind the wheel in a regretfully inelegant bulge. “Get that fuckin’ temptation outta my face, we’ve buisness to discuss. We ain’t primates, we’re adults and we’ll dee-s-cuss the various matters at hand like adults.”

Elvis slaps her hand away from his nose as he says this and Gigi clutches it to her chest as if his sharp words had scorched the soft flesh of it. He tries to ignore the way the whole car smells of thunderstorm trapped pussy musk. The way her eyes are brimming with tears over his refusal to suck the sticky strings of her horniness off her digits. And the way he feels so pressed to keep things sedate between them initially, simply because he knows “adults” is a kind word for them both.

He’s a dirty old man with what he wants and will eventually get around to doing with this fawnish young thing if she lets him. And holy lord!

- ‘Adults’-

it ain’t a lie in respect to her, they’re both adults, but it’s rather reaffirming of how shoddy that excuse is when he has to say it a million times to comfort himself and this over excitable girl who has her legs wide open and her thighs shiny from fingering herself to the memory of a make out session.

God, what he could do with such sensitivity…

“Alright, listen here, lil one-” He makes an effort to clear his throat and in a bid to make her eyes stop watering with unshed tears from his tone, Elvis tries to lighten the mood by aiming a little slap at the offending place between her still splayed legs.

It has a slightly more stimulating effect than he anticipated.

Gigi’s eyes fly wide in cerulean disks of joy at the ringing pain of his rings smacking against her petals, right before her body goes rigid and his hand gets trapped between two spasming thighs as an unmistakable little peak rips it’s way through her, taking its sweet time to zap her and compress her lungs. The sight is heavenly and it gives him a little prelude of what it would be like to make her lose her mind.

His irritation fades away at the sight of her trusting pleasure and the melted look of loneliness that flashes across her face as she endures it with ample room between them on the seats, no embrace to catch the slumping after effects. He’s a cruel man and his hand defends himself by rubbing at her soothingly, asking for forgiveness with fumbling swipes of the pads of his fingers along her inner thigh. His hand is drenched when he yanks it out and grabs at a knee, hauling her over across the bench seat, scraping her thighs over sticky leather, nearer to him.

She looks like she needs a hug after what he just did to her.

What had he done? Fucked if he knows, he had pussy slapped her…err, ok he made out with her on his floor…no, he led her on before that but it was all in good fun…he’d held her in the pool…no law against that…he’d made her a burger as any hopeless romanti-

-as any good host would do.

He takes out his confusion on the hapless gear shift, tucking this suggestively foldable girl into his side and reaching round her shoulders to yank at the jewel studded stick, desperate to get outta this garage before someone witnesses him losing his mind in there.

He gets the gear shift tacky from her traces on his hand. He should've guessed that, strings of slick connecting them still even as she calms down from the feel of him against her in the seat, just as he suspected, hoped, needed. No words as the car revs out and into the drive, just her little moans still bubbling up as the car moves and her legs jostle her.

“Baby, tuck yourself down beside me,” he pleads, “don’t want no one to see your precious self.”

Gigi wastes no time in getting offended over his secrecy. Instead she somehow folds further, head nearly between her legs and face smushed into the crease where his belly meets his thigh. It’s not what he meant, it’s not what he wanted. The bottom of the steering wheel is liable to knock her little nose with each spin. And his fat gut is folded against her forehead.

It’s not what he’d wanted.

But today seems to be going that sorta way. The screwed up, make a fool outta his hopes sorta day.

He still manages to be polite to his boy in the gate shack and it’s gratifying that there are a few folks outside the gate, loitering mostly but they animate when he drives out, happy and waving and caring whether he lives or dies or never drives outta there again. Gratifying, it’s real gratifying. He protectively lays his hand on Gigi’s head to keep her low, to keep her steady in her curled up position as the voices of his fans rise outside the automobile and the car spins out into the boulevard with enough force to send a frailer girl straight to the floor boards.

Instead Gigi just clutches at his leg and throws a tanned leg out to catch herself against the console, takes the turn like a champ and stays down as he asked. Her hand warms him like some forbidden shit coursing lava-like through his veins, pounding in that artery under her palm, there beneath his squishy inner thigh, so close to where he can feel himself getting heavy -if not hard- right there in the baggy tracksuit. He thinks he must be dreaming, that it’s just an action of readjustment, but no.

No.

God it can’t be, no but, he could swear she was nuzzling that crease of his. The one that used to be lean and cut during his army days, chiseled and contoured in the movies and always at least a little defined even as a boy but now -now it’s a soft roll of flesh dropping onto bulky thighs and she’s -

Fuck. She’s definitely nuzzling it.

Gigi’s head is foggy and fuzzy with the old terror of having messed up somehow and somewhere and not knowing what it was. It makes her pulse race and her eyes burn in that old crybaby way until she thinks she can’t take it anymore and just might pass out like an overwrought little maiden -until she feels him tuck her into the security of his warm side, until she hears his pleading command to hunker down, until his hand cradles her head as he presses her lower into the bulk of his soft belly: and then she is warm and safe.

Fuzzy and foggy then in a way only her silliest daydreams have ever promised her. The ones where she’s loved and permitted to be a little too soft for it all. One where her forehead is pressed against warm flesh beneath a tracksuit, her lips puckered out to feel the material glide against them, straining for the feel of his wiry curls beneath. She feels compelled to cradle herself in every nook and cleft of him, her arms winding around him as he takes a turn and her hand anchoring to his thigh, her cheek atop it. Her nose buried in that scrumptious fold of his that is as burnin’ hot and sticky to her senses as a Tupelo hothouse in august.

It makes her moan, a hot and puffy gust of appreciation, her thighs still smashed together. She could cry this time from gratitude at how close he is to her, how commanding the weight of his hand is on her head. She’d happily let him push her face into his crotch in payment for having messed up all his arrangements today. She’s never given a blowjob before, not properly at least, and maybe he’d be a little angry about it but she thinks she could take it. She wouldn’t like him angry but as long as she was near him and he was down her throat and gripping her jaw and pulling her hair -well, he’d have to touch her to do all that and she wanted that. She needed that. That would be ok. It would be kinda hot. She just needed him to stay close. Forever.

She’d never felt so safe as she did now, tucked under his arm with his hand spanning her whole skull and likely driving straight to a speedy deflowering. Nothing about that gave her pause. She was sure she could love him to some sort of compromise -one involving her being his pet and he her daddy for ever and a day. It was simple really. So simple it felt like it had already begun and that silly adult conversation he needed to have with her had been worked out and now they were off into the sunset.

Gigi feels a wash of contentment at this. Simple really, she thinks again to herself and acts on it as she feels him suck in his stomach in response to her nosing at his fold. It had made the hem of his jacket gape and she takes full advantage of that by discreetly sticking her whole face up in that musky little tent and peppering his soft belly with heartfelt smooches. His belly is still wet, maybe from his shower after the pool.

Kiss, kiss, just a little peppering of pecks.

She licks her lips. It’s salty. She pecks at him again. This time open mouthed. Definitely salty.

Kiss kiss kiss. Just little kisses. Little thank you’s.

Each one saying “we’re gonna be so happy.” It was simple really. They could make each other happy. Isn’t that how kids form their friendships? You make me laugh, you share your toys, you like my food. Let’s love each other.

Kiss kiss kiss.

The brakes squeal and the wheel bonks her head and maybe she wasn’t being as subtle as she intended with her affections but those were all minor distractions. They were gonna be happy together.

“Sweet merciful baby Jesus on the cross—“ she hears Elvis saying above her instead, muffled by his jacket and a few pounds of prime memphian beefcake.

“What is it?” she asks, yanking her head out from under his jacket to get some perspective on why they’ve stopped, all she can see is at endearing little extra bit of fleshy padding under his chin and the curve of his lips and maybe beyond that there appears to be an awning outside the window, like at a gas station. They must be low on fuel.

“What is it?” he mimics with a lifted eyebrow and a silly expression that just enhances his adorable double chin, a goofy little move she recognizes from his movies but likes it better from this vantage point. “The “it” is you, lil girl, as usual,” he laughs in disbelief, “and the “what” is that you’re gonna give this ole man a heart attack goin on like that while he’s navigatin’ a public roadway. Ain’t safe, ain’t sensible.”

“Oh, sorry ‘bout that.” she says and it’s so honest and accepting he melts right away at it. That and the fact she’s still laying down all shiny and golden across his lap with her hair pooling in the V of his legs and her smile lookin’ so fond at what she must consider a portly, middle-aged fussbudget.

Since when did he start soundin’ like fuckin’ Gingerbread? Whinin’ bout safety when he coulda been spurtin’ down an untried throat.

“You’re just so cuddly, Elvis, wanted to snuggle right in. Way you were drivin’ I figured I needed an airbag if things went wrong.” She explains teasingly and there goes that smile again and he’s so confused and so in love… “We low on fuel, Elvis?” she asks without missing a beat.

“Wha-?” he glances around and realizes he has peeled the car up next to a Seven Eleven’s dingy pumps. “No, I’s just tryin’ to get away from a lil snail that burrowed under my damn jacket.”

Gigi giggles at that and so he does too. Goes so far as to take his hand off the idle wheel and cup the sharp underside of her chin. He feels it again, that thrumming, electric, shocking and sedating connection all at once, everything that oughta be felt when you touch another’s soul, everything full of good intentions.

“I just wanted to kiss on ya some more.” she explains herself so very softly to him as her eyes flutter shut from his touches and her legs draw up and together unconsciously on the bench seat. “I do know givin’ road head’s illegal.” she says next with a laugh and it jars him, “And you’re a cop!” she feigns a little horror. “But since you’ve got us parked…” she trails off before opening those glittery eyes again and lifting her head just a little as she turns back on her side, intimating some intention to make good on her jokes.

Elvis would rather go to hell than face fuck so sweet an Angel, much as his leg twitches from want for it. Her face is so close, so, so close. He’d rather go to hell.

She ducks her head and her hair covers the revolting scene as he feels rather than sees Gigi nuzzle beneath his belly and press a wide open kiss to his (pretty neglected of late) ball sack, aiming at random, he thinks, from the way she just open-mouth-smooches him. His toes curl from it.

That’s all the reaction she’s gonna get from his useless body, those pills he took for the migraine this morning are gonna keep him as limp as those goddamn seaweed noodles Ginger tried to feed him in Hawaii. Just a couple of years ago he coulda easily choked this little thing to death with his firm meat but now she’s gonna find out he can’t even twitch when he’s this sedated. Ballsack smmotching and pussy slaps, regardless.

He’d rather go to hell.

“Don’t be crass, lil girl, that sorta act ain’t becomin’ on you.” he says it as gently as he can, in a fatherly way if he thinks about it, weaving his hand into her hair and savoring that visual ecstasy for just a moment before he pulls her head the opposite direction his body really wants, pulls her up and away from him. She’s surprised and saddened enough by the rejection that she jerks her head up faster than he’s guiding it and it bonks into the steering wheel again.

The blast of the car horn makes them both yelp.

She scrambles to sit up, doubly wounded.

There’s those tears forming again.

She’s frustrating in that way but he can’t manage to let it out on her, and that’s puzzling as only Yissa has ever elicited this amount of indulgence from him and he feels exhausted at that implication. He involuntarily shuts his eyes and he sighs and reaches over to pat her leg assuringly.

“You’re tired.” she deduces and there’s not a hint of judgment or disappointment in that voice.

“Yeah, and I gotta think.” he says, “All my thinkin’ spots are currently takin’ up by assholes.” he realizes, “And we’re gonna get caught out in the open here.”

She hums understandingly and he keeps petting that silky smooth leg, relishing how muscular those calves are, fingers itching to play with that anklet. He rubs his palm higher to get away from the dangly temptation, higher and in between her legs. He might as well give in a little. He rubs over the wet crotch of her panties and she sighs happily, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. Same position he’s in, mirroring him, as he keeps his eyes closed and rubs. He spreads his index and middle finger, catches those outer lips and traps them together, rubs her that way with her wet petals gliding together and her moans go up a notch. They just breathe and he rubs, the sound of the car idling a heavy bass to her breathy percussion.

“I’m sorry everybody is taking up your space.” Gigi makes conversation while he’s at it, and somehow it just feels right to chat while he pets her.

In the dark of his closed eyelids Elvis has regained a little peace and he lets his fingers drift to her pantyline, flirting with the idea of going under the fabric. “S’alright. ‘M’used to it.” he slurs, “Where d’ya go when you gotta get away?”

Gigi hasn’t got any fans or a legion of family members but somehow he knows, just knows she’s like him and has to get away. Someone’s always got something to get away from, or least the sensitive ones do.

“I've usually got the track.” she answers

“Hmm.”

“But they don’t bother me. They might bother you.”

“Yeah, s’no to the track. Though I’d like to watch ya run sometime.”

“Really?!”

“Don’t be silly, ‘course I would.”

“I haven’t had anyone come watch me run before.”

“I doubt that, honey.”

“No! Really!”

“Bleachers cleared out whenever you’re up?”

“No! No I mean anyone I know, besides the footballers.”

“Yeah, I bet they show. That’s shitty though, baby. I’m sorry for ya.”

“It’s alright.” she is the one who says it this time, “It’ll be like nothing at all if you really come! Please, please!”

“I done said I would. I will!”

“Aww thank you!”

“Honey, I wanna.” he insists, it’s very important she understand that if her folks haven’t ever once made her feel special like that. Even if he’ll be more like the footballers, come to watch her jugs and tight lil ass bounce down the track. Unlike them though, he’ll make sure to make her know he’s proud of her. He'll reward her real good for it afterwards, too.

His fingers slip under the panty seam. Calloused fingertips swiping along bare and slimy skin, she’s pooling and her slick’s working against gravity she’s so hungry for him. But that ain’t the troubling bit.

“Lord baby, where’s your hair?” he asks her in concern, finding a perfectly bald mound the more he rummages in her drawers. “You not grown any yet?”

Gigi laughs so hard he can feel her belly sucking in with each giggle beneath his forearm. “I shave it, silly. Isn’t it nice?”

“Baby you oughta have hair.” he insists, his hand quite stalled from this development. “Just damn weird for a woman to be posin’ like a lil girl.” Maybe that’s his conscience over the age gap talkin’ but he’s really a bit flustered by it.

“I’ll grow it out for you.” she whimpers, stung again by his rejections and -he really can’t seem to stop hurting her feelings, can he?

“Ok.” he says softly, going back to rubbing her and seeing that it has the intended comforting effect on her, “I’d preee-fer that, Gigi.”

“Ok.”

“Good girl.” Her eyes open at that and if his were too he’d see how happy he just made her, telling her something he’d like, something she can give him, guiding her. It’s new and soothing and thrilling to her all at once and she whines as she starts to thrust her hips up to meet his hand, quickly getting worked up.

“Can we go to your place?” he asks her softly and realizes it's been absolute ages since he had to ask someone that. Usually he’s always got a place to take them, usually they’re inviting him to theirs right away after the initial chit chat about names and weather. That feeling of being young and normal takes over again and it’s saddening how foreign it is.

“Yeah, yeah of course, Tammy’s out too, so we’ll be alone.” Gigi explains through heaving breaths as she doesn’t stop riding his hand as best she can with her leverage disadvantage.

He wants to see her place, he wants to see those records of his that Tammy says she’s got littering her room. He wants to see what Gigi does with a space when it’s hers. He wants to devour her stupid little bald beaver on her college dorm bed.

“Alrigh’ let’s go to yours.”

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[hollowbait]

ichigo grows up beautiful. of course, kisuke doesn't see it for himself, careful to stay away after aizen. after isshin's request that his son be allowed to finish growing up in peace. but chad and orihime still drop by, and while they're only in the periphery of ichigo's life, they have the added advantage of having contacts who've remained close with the ex-substitute soul reaper.

so they've seen photographs - arisawa tatsuki and ichigo smiling towards the camera. a red-haired girl wearing glasses with her arm linked with ichigo's, sticking her tongue out at someone off frame. a group photo that includes ichigo, arisawa and the red head alongside a mousy brunette and a leggy, dark haired girl, as well as the two boys ichigo had always hung out with, standing in front of a giant waterfall.

in all of them ichigo shines like a tiny sun, blinding and beautiful.

so maybe it shouldn't have come as a shock when orihime comes by one day, worried about a man she sees following ichigo. soul society never did send anyone more competent to karakura after ichigo was... unable to continue with his duties. kisuke has had to konso a lot of spirits since then.

what does come as a shock is realising that the man following ichigo isn't a spirit, attracted by the gentle light of ichigo's soul. it's a man, attracted by something more physical, and with much darker intentions.

and ichigo is strong - if the man ever tried anything, kisuke is sure ichigo could send this man to the hospital with no problem -

but something protective and urgent burns inside the body kisuke had painstakingly built himself, seeing the vile things the man wants to do to ichigo. the man's soul is dark and festering, and kisuke doesn't want it near ichigo, even if it's just to kick the living daylights out of him.

and it's different to kill a living being. messier. heavier. the blood and viscera more than just a symbol of spiritual destruction.

but the way kisuke shrugs it off feels the same.

he breathes out, is almost done arranging himself back into friendly shop keeper when a voice calls out -

"i could've handled him, you know."

he smiles. "you would deny me the chance to save a damsel in distress? how cruel of you, kurosaki-kun."

then kisuke turns around to bask in the sun.

#bleach #urahara kisuke #kurosaki ichigo #ichigo kurosaki #kisuke urahara #uraichi #[] #[text] #|fic plot| #|uraichi| #oh shit content ⚠️ warnings ⚠️: a character wanting to commit rape - stalking - murder

[onenicebugperday]

@aoifeoftheshadows submitted: Met this speedy fellow on my walk the other day. They made a couple threat displays at me for trying to lean on their railing, which I thought was interesting because usually wild spiders here will just run away. Seen in [removed] (please remove)

Oh threat displays from a tiny man! I'll bet you were terrified. Looks like a running crab spider - very leggy!

#animals #bugs #spider #arachnids #submission #running crab spider

[crazyunsexycool]

Is it a crime?

Chapter 9

Pairing : mob boss!bucky barnes x mob boss!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of smut, violence, knife use, loss of limb, drug use, alcohol consumption

A/N: the long awaited chapter for this series… honestly I don’t know how to feel about this chapter but here it is I do have some interesting things planned for this series though!!

Series masterlist

9 years ago

James Buchanan Barnes was a ghost.

He was the shell of who he used to be. A whisper in the shadows of the already dark and seedy underbelly of the city. Since the night of the infamous Y/L/N murder it was clear that Bucky Barnes had changed. The switch that flipped inside of him was losing you.

Even being the heir to the Barnes family empire Bucky had always been known as charming and even kind. Not to be considered weak, he was a beast in his own right. Some would even go as far as to say he could instill more fear in someone than his father. Yet he had earned more respect from others in the business. It wasn’t fear disguised as respect no, the now twenty one year old had gained genuine respect from the others in this business. It was the worst kept secret that eventually the Y/L/Ns and the Barnes would become one when you and Bucky inevitably married. Everyone fought to be on Bucky’s good side lest they be the target of his wrath.

Now though, that person had died. His heart had been ripped away and sent out of New York. What was left was a ruthless man who thirst for blood. Specifically the blood of hydra. It was enough to send hydra’s associates running for the hills. There were some that didn’t care. They didn’t believe the whispered warnings. They saw Bucky as nothing more than an inconvenience until they were face to face with him.

Like right at this moment.

Bucky stood in the dark alleyway. A cigarette between his lips and a knife in his hands. Hydra had been pushing their business closer to his territory. It’s not like he needed a reason to kill hydra men but that could lead to a war and George Barnes didn’t want that. If it were up to him he’d call a truce with Pierce just for getting rid of you but Bucky had done too much damage in the span of just three months for that to happen now.

Bucky tosses his cigarette on the ground and steps on it before heading out of the alley. Pierce’s men had stolen from him and he was determined to make them pay. Before he even rounds the corner completely Bucky has already stabbed one of the guards. The knife slicing right into his lung, the man wheezes and falls to the floor. Bucky makes sure he won't get up again. On the other side of the street Steve handles some other of Pierce’s people, while Bucky makes his way into the warehouse.

By the time he was done the warehouse was on fire and all of the hydra scum that was supposed to protect Pierce’s assets were inside.

7 years ago

The music was deafening. Bucky’s first club was up and running successfully despite his father’s insistence that it would fail. Bucky sat up straight after trying the new drug the infamous Bruce Banner had cooked up. There’s some leggy redhead that had attached herself to his side the moment he walked in and he was already wasted so he didn’t care.

“Why don’t you try that and tell me what you think?” Bucky whispered in her ear as he held out what looked like a tiny piece of paper. She stuck her tongue out and when he placed his finger on the tip she wrapped her lips around it. Her tongue swirling around his finger until he pulled his hand away harshly.

It didn’t take long for the effect to take place and Bucky found himself shaking hands with Bruce after closing a deal to sell his new concoction only through Bucky and only at his clubs.

“Bucky, we have to go. You have a meeting.” Steve said as soon as Bruce walked out of the vip area.

He was beyond annoyed with Bucky’s behavior. Steve had even parted ways with him for a few weeks because Bucky was being so reckless he was sure to get one or both of them killed. He understood the pain Bucky had been hiding under the recklessness. He hadn’t been the only one to lose you. Frankly Steve had been just as upset when he heard the news and he was ready to go out and bring hydra down. Both men had thrown themselves into work but in very different ways. Steve became more calculating, double and triple checking his plans to make sure everything fell into place. He couldn’t lose anyone else.

“If my father thinks I’m not smart enough or for old enough to take over already he can fucking go to the meeting.”

“Buck…”

“Get out. I don’t give a fuck about the damn meeting.” Bucky was up and in Steve’s face.

“The only reason you’re this upset is because Y/N’s birthday is coming up.”

There was an instant and drastic change in the room. The tension builds so quickly it’s suffocating. Bucky reacts without thinking, his fist already flying toward Steve’s face. Fortunately he was high and a bit drunk so Steve was able to move out of the way just in time.

“What did I fucking say about mentioning her?”

“You,” Steve points at the redhead. “Get out.”

She scowled in his direction but left anyway.

“You need to get your shit together. At some point the way you’ve been acting because of Y/N is going to get you killed. What if she comes back and finds out you’re gone huh? At least you have your mom and Becca and your friends. Y/N is out there with nothing and I can’t fucking find her to make sure she’s ok. All you do is get high or drunk and act like a child that had their toy taken away.” Steve yelled. “You’re not the only one who lost her so man the fuck up already.”

“Get the fuck out Steve. I’m not gonna deal with your bullshit.”

Bucky moved to the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He returned to the couch and sat down before taking a drink directly from the bottle.

Steve just stared at him for a moment before he started walking out. “She’d be so disappointed if she saw you like this.” He said over his shoulder.

The bottle Bucky had in his hand flew into a wall and shattered on impact. A blood curdling scream turned into a sob in his throat. He knew Steve was right. If you saw him right now you’d probably hate him. Still he couldn’t bring himself to be better. What was the point?

Underneath everything he had become, Bucky was still that 20 year old that had to watch while you ran for your life. At the time he didn’t have enough influence within the Barnes crime family or in New York. His hands were tied behind his back and he blamed himself for failing to protect you. That would always be his biggest regret. All he had left was hope that you were still alive and that you could somehow reach out to let him know you were ok.

But everyday that hope dwindled a little more. Until he was left with nothing.

6 years ago

A trap had been set by hydra. George had willingly given Becca to Pierce as a bargaining chip. Hoping that she would be enough to stop the war before it began.

Bucky was furious when his mother told him what had happened. And even though his relationship with most of his friends was rocky he called on Steve and Sam to help get Becca back. He should have known that Pierce and Rumlow would use his sister to lure him out.

Bucky doesn’t remember much of what happened once he stepped into the abandoned building. All he knows now is that he’s in a hospital. He goes in and out of consciousness. The doctors go on and on about something but whatever they have him on has thrown him for a loop.

Arm.

Amputate.

Pain.

Miracle.

Lucky.

Those are the only things he was able to capture. Everything is hazy and far away. Whatever pain medication they're giving him is the best thing he’d ever had. Bucky swears he can hear your voice, see your face and feel your hand on his face before he’s unconscious again.

When he fully wakes up the first thing he does is ask for you. Winnie and Becca are at his side reminding Bucky that you aren’t there. Bucky cries over the fact that he imagined you but not so much at the news that he lost his left arm. He looks at Becca who is beaten and bruised and all he wants to do is get back out there and destroy Pierce. Then find a way to destroy his father.

The pain is unbearable, nightmares interrupt his sleep. Adjusting to not having a limb is so difficult Bucky thinks it won’t get easier. He’d prefer to just crawl into bed and never get out. Winnie, Becca, Sam and Steve don’t allow that to happen.

5 years ago

It took a year of doctor visits and appointments before he could be fitted for a prosthetic. Of course he did intensive research with the help of Becca to find the best money could buy.

Now with a metal arm more people seem to be afraid of Bucky. A feeling he relished and used to his advantage. Something in him changed too. He felt the old him die. There was no use in emotions; he would only hurt himself. Bucky closed that part of himself off. The part of himself that thought he could have a happy life and love. Instead he focused on his job, on hitting hydra back for touching Becca. Of course George is furious at this but he isn’t as vocal about it afraid of Bucky, considering the rampage Bucky is going on.

****

He’s relentless in his pursuit. Bucky had managed to pull together a group of men he trusted. None of them had any connections to his father. They were just trying to make a name for themselves. Luckily enough for Bucky. Hydra had also screwed them over so it was easy to get them on board with the promise of their own money tacked on. They called themselves the Howlies because of how they made their enemies cry out in pain.

When Bucky isn’t destroying hydra or their associates he’s either high or drunk and fucking some girl he met at his club. When he’s done he feels disgusted, like he’s cheated on you. The most recent girl gets kicked out of his office before she’s even dressed. He can hear her cursing up a storm but he couldn’t care less. Bucky sits in his office alone, looking down at the dance floor through the large window. Every time he did he wished for you to magically show up.

That would never be the case and for the first time since that night he began reluctantly accepting that he’d never see you again.

3 years ago

It was a rumor. Not really a rumor but a whisper in the wind. Just something said in passing but it was enough to give Steve hope. A group of mercenaries or something was traveling around taking jobs others wouldn’t. Starting connections and dealing with groups no one else could. All of them led by the so-called mob princess of New York.

Steve walked into the Barnes residence knowing Bucky would be finishing up a meeting with George. He had possible good news and he was going to tell Bucky before leaving in search of you again.

“Steve.” Winnie intercepted him before he could make it to Bucky.

“Mrs. Barnes, you aren’t going to believe it. I think I can find Y/N.”

“I’ve heard, how sure of this are you?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Steve if you aren’t even 75% sure that it could be her— you can’t tell him. If it isn’t or you don’t actually find her it will break him. He’s already on edge because of his father. And I can’t see him like that again.”

“Please don’t cry.” Steve moved to comfort the older woman. “I won’t say anything. Just tell him I had to go away on business and I’ll see him in a few days.”

“Thank you, please be safe.”

*****

“Where have you been?” Bucky asks Steve without even looking up from the documents he had in his hand.

“I had some business to take care of.”

“That’s what my mother said. What business?” His head snaps up to look at Steve.

“Nothing important. The plans fell through anyways.”

“So nothing to do with Y/N then?”

“I’m sorry what?” Steve did his best to look confused.

“You heard the rumor about some team being led by the so-called princess of New York and you tried to go find her. Am Icorrect?”

“Yes, listen I didn’t tell you because-“

“It doesn’t matter why you didn’t say anything. She’s not here so it obviously wasn’t her or you missed her. Anyways it doesn’t matter.” Bucky shrugged his shoulders.

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“There’s no reason to keep-“ Bucky clears his throat. “To keep looking for her.” He said quietly. “She’s been gone this long with no type of communication. It's obvious she isn’t interested in coming back.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I have a business to run and that’s what I’m going to focus on.”

Steve looked at him with concern. “Did something happen while I was out?” He asks.

“Nothing to worry about. Why don’t you rest today and I’ll catch you up on what you’ve missed tomorrow morning?”

“Buck-“

“Don’t. I’ve made my choice. I can't continue to live hoping that she’ll show up here one day when I know she won’t.”

Steve just nodded and decided to leave and talk to Sam. It’s obvious his father got to him and he was going to need back up.

1 year ago

“It’s time you stop fooling around. I thought that by giving you time you’d straighten yourself out but you’ve been insufferable.” George Barnes told his son from behind his desk.

“I’m doing my job. I’m making this family money, I’ve strengthened our relationship with the rest of the families and I’ve kept hydra in line. So please enlighten me on how I’m fooling around?”

“No one is going to take you seriously if you keep fucking around with those whores. You need to settle down.”

“I would have settled down if you had kept your promise when Pierce killed Y/L/N. Y/N and I would be unstoppable-“

“Enough.” George slammed his fist on his desk. It was a move that used to instill fear in Bucky as a child, but not so much now. “It’s been almost ten years, get over it. You sound like a pussy every time you whine about her.”

“Fuck you. I’m never going to get over it. She was everything to me and you knew that. But you only care about yourself and your money. If you hated having a family and children why did you get married in the first place?”

“Because it was my obligation. To keep the family name and business going. And just like I had to do it, so will you.” George pulled some documents out of a drawer and dropped them in front of Bucky. “I’ve already found someone for you. All you have to do is sign the contract and we can proceed with the wedding.”

“I’m not signing shit without my lawyer reviewing and adding my own stipulations.”

“The family lawyer was the one to put it together.”

“I have my own lawyer.” Bucky said as he glanced down at the document. “See, the family lawyer works for you so I don’t trust him, or you for that matter. My amended contract will be the final say if not, this arrangement isn’t happening.” Bucky got up and walked out.

******

It took almost a week but Bucky finally returned to the family home with the revised contract and set it on his father’s desk. His personal lawyer found too many requests that would screw Bucky over permanently.

“It’s this or nothing.” He states calmly and then proceeds to sit and watch George Barnes lose his shit over every stipulation he’s added.

“You’ve got to be out of your damn mind if you think I’ll agree to any of this.”

“You either sign and walk away with a nice retirement plan or I move on you and your men. Either way I’ll end up in full control of our territory and you’ll be gone.” Bucky states calmly.

Bucky’s requests were simple. He would be allowed to divorce after 2 years of marriage at which time the bride’s family would sign their businesses over to Bucky for a large sum of money. The day of the wedding George Barnes would officially step down as the head of the family and Bucky would take total control of everything. But the most important and the one request he wouldn’t change was that George would have to grant his mother a divorce and move away from the city.

“This is my city boy. I’m not moving and I’m not letting your mother go either.”

“You will sign the divorce papers, that’s non negotiable. If you don’t I will personally do to you every single thing you ever did to her. Everything.” Bucky’s eyes were ablaze with rage.

“You wouldn’t dare-“

Before George could finish the sentence Bucky had reached over the desk, grabbed his hand and held it there before stabbing him with the knife he had been wielding in his left hand. George cried out in pain as Bucky pulled the blade out.

“You ungrateful brat.” George spat.

“I was six years old when you did that to my mother at the dinner table because she didn’t make the meal you wanted. Then you refused to let her see a doctor until dinner was over. I suggest you sign the contract because if you don’t you’ll be in a lot more pain.”

****

A blonde that looked like she had been plucked out of a 1940’s housewife guide comes walking in. Curls bouncing, hips swaying, heels clicking, smile blinding. Bucky hated her immediately.

“Hi, I’m Dorothy but you can call me Dot.” She stretched her hand out in order for Bucky to shake it although it seemed she expected a kiss to the back of her hand.

“James.”

“I know,” she giggled, it was infuriating. “Your dad has told me so much about you.”

“It’s a shame I can’t say the same about you.”

“It’s ok, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately.” He mumbled.

Present

The bar was a little hole in the wall. You’d miss it if you didn’t know it was there. Bucky and Steve walked in with purpose, the other patrons stopping their conversation except for a table at the back. They were a rambunctious bunch.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in.” Tim Dugan called out from behind the bar. “Hey guys! Look who's here.”

The rest of the Howlies turned their attention to the bar. All of them immediately get up and welcome Steve and Bucky with open arms. They spend some time catching up before the question is asked.

“So what are you doing here after not seeing each other for some two years?” Falsworth asked.

“I need your help again. I know I said I wouldn’t drag you back in but there are very few people that I trust with my life. Most of them are sitting at this table.”

“What do you need help with?”

“Hydra.”

The men looked at each other before deferring to Dugan.

“When do we start?” He said with a sly grin.

Ch 10

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #is it a crime? #mob!bucky #mob!reader #mob boss!bucky barnes x mob boss!reader #mob boss bucky x reader #mob boss!bucky series #mob boss!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x female!reader #james bucky barnes

[genderful-ghoul]

Someone, please, turn Dew into a kitty. Let him shapeshift so he can curl up next to his ghoulfriends on a cozy night and purr. Let him be a tiny little man whose head is just a lil handful. Let someone softly rub between his ears. Let his fluffy little tail wave around when he’s content. Let him have a little “meow” that he speaks to Aether with sweetly when he wants to be petted. Let him have happy, warm, and fuzzy belly rubbins. Let someone pet his fluffy little chest as he purrs quietly. Let him sit with sleepy eyes. Let him have little teeths and a little tongue to lovingly bite and lick his ghoulfriends with. Let him lay or loaf on someone’s chest for the night when he wants to be close to them. Let him make biscuits on his friends’ thighs. Let him perch on someone’s shoulders. Let him stretch his little leggies and little toesies. Let him make cute little noises. Let him paw at his favourite human(oid)s‘ doors to be let in so he can spend time with them. Let him roll and wiggle around like a silly little boy. Let him have kitty playtime with his friends. Let him curl up by the fireplace and have a safe nap. Let him curl up sweetly in blankies only to be discovered by a friend and left to nap as they lovingly watch over him. Let him sing call and response songs with his friends. Let him focus on being kitty and forget about being a big tough ghoul.

#the band ghost #dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghost #dew is a cat #kitty dew #ghanimals

[burstingsunrise]

how tall is radio man that luke looks normal sized next to him I'm yelling

it’s so bizarre seeing luke look anything other than giant 😭 the radio man looks to be a bit taller but i’d also suggest luke’s leggy long torso tinie situation is a contributing factor 🥰

#this almost never happens #it feels like a strange alternate reality #on another note i am really enjoying this genre of luke + tall radio man photo being a thing #ask #meghna

[the-shining-river]

Kastle

No but seriously, the speed with which those two fall for each other is plain ridiculous. Like, yes, they had this connection in DD s02, and there was trust, and this brutal kind of raw honesty that they demanded from each other, but there was also all that active murdering going on and what not.

And now almost a year has passed, Matt is recently presumed killed by a building, Foggy has moved up in life for a while now, and Karen seems lonely but keeps doing her thing, and then Frank shows up and--says he wanted to say hi but acknowledges she might be angry with him? and asks about the gun in her bag as a way to remind her that she has all the power in this situation? and is proud of her for it? and the way they just keep wanting to smile at each other?? Despite Frank’s problems, it feels like such a novel, light-hearted side of him, I don’t think Karen ever got a chance to see it before? A timidly smiling Frank?? (my heart, ugh)

And of course she’s hesitant, but he keeps his distance as non-threatening as possible, and she dares tease him for his hipster looks (a bruise-free Frank is something novel too), and he goes and jokes right back. And then she asks, because she has to, because that’s what she said would make him dead to her before, and Frank answers honestly that his ‘business’ is finished, so this huge problem is not dividing them anymore. And that’s when she loses her shoes and drops her guard for a moment and really looks at him.

“I need to know if you said anything.” “God no. No. Frank, you should know me better than that.”

*Screechinggg* How? Why? When would he have learned that about Karen? From how she kept chasing the truth about his family, from how she lied to cops for him? Point is, Karen thought Frank knew her like that.

Frank asks for her help so nicely -- meaning he came to her for her competence, and I don’t think that’s something Karen experiences very often, being often dismissed as that cute, leggy blonde (with an attitude) (I think), and this time he lets helping him be her own free decision, instead of that time he used her as bait in the diner.

And it’s already a bit much, this role reversal, and this lack of active murdering standing between them, and him looking good-- Karen needs to sit and drink some beer as she already lets tiny smiles escape while she asks her sensible investigator questions, and then he just kills her with those flowers and that smile.

And Karen kills Frank right back with how easy it is to talk to her, to get her help -- no manipulation, no quid pro quo bullshit, nothing.

“Okay.” “Okay.”

Frank puts the roses on the coffee table and steps back again, giving her space so she’d feel safe with the dead man, the murderer, and then Karen just crosses that distance again, with a HUG. When was the last time someone brought flowers for Karen Page? (even if rationalizing it as a means of communication) When was the last time someone hugged Frank Castle? And it’s such a tight, good, heartfelt hug, my gods. And considering the grand total of their previous physical interaction consists of one (1) instance of Frank bodily shielding her from bullets??? I’m ded.

And sure, things start to get complicated again soon enough, with Frank wanting to go after Micro, and Karen unhappy that he’s contemplating killing people again, but this here, this felt like such a SOLID new beginning for them. The physical freedom and the respect/consideration and the more equal footing. On top of that honesty and sense of connection they had built before, the inevitability of this collision is SO beautiful to watch ;___;

#kastle #kastle meta #frank castle #karen page #beng flailing and overanalyzing #the contents of her new trashcan #so much fun! #why did nobody tell me The Punisher is such a fun show to watch #no seriously #beng's shiny meta

[sgcairo]

Headcanon Dottore realy likes picking people up and carrying them. I feel like most of the time he just uses it to annoy them but sometimes he just does it becouse he likes it

It's because other people are slow, and he hates waiting.

Whenever he needs to get somewhere fast, he hates having to stop and wait for whoever's following, so the easiest solution is just scoop them up and go. It makes good time, and despite them likely yelling at him for grabbing them so suddenly, it pays off. Time is precious for the good Doctor, and he loathes wasting it.

There are few people he can actually do it to though, as his comrades would rather stab him in the face than have his hands on them. He will not do this to Capitano especially, not only because the man is much too heavy for Dottore, but also because his face would get ripped off if he tried. Tartaglia is always uneasy around Dottore, so there's no luck there, and Arlecchino would commit a murder of a man tried to grab her in such a way.

Pierro would keel over from a heart attack. Which would not end well.

I could list all the reasons on why Dottore can't just snatch any of the Harbingers, but the only one he could do it to without consequences is Pantalone.

The best part is that Pantalone never expects it. His reflexes are slow at times, so he doesn't even realize what's happening before shouting at Dottore to put him down. Usually he gets thrown over Dottore's shoulder, not princess-carried like you'd expect, and the Doctor makes a run for it all while laughing at Pantalone's loud protests.

Dottore will also just scoop up Babytorre by the back of the coat, or pick him up and prop him up on his hip, when the kid is walking too slow. Or occasionally when the child wants to help out in the lab, he'll just carry him around and hand him stuff to hold. Babytorre is very careful with what he's given, and always holds it with two hands because that's what Pantalone taught him.

On the subject of carrying, Dottore often has to carry Babytorre back to Pantalone's office because the kid falls asleep while hanging out in the lab. Babytorre is tiny, so it's not like it's hard to carry him, much less with one arm.

The few times that he's found Pantalone sleeping at his desk have always ended in Dottore scooping him up and carrying him to bed. It's not good for the spine to be hunched over like that, especially while sleeping, not to mention that Pantalone often works himself to the point of exhaustion, despite having assistants that could take a part of the workload.

So yes, he does carry people around because he has long leggies.

Though I do think that Dottore doesn't like being touched or touching others in general, unless it's for work, so it's rare to be picked up in the first place.

#il dottore #babytorre #pantalone #fatui harbingers #fatui headcanons #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #pantalone sits at a desk all day so his reflexes are nada #you could poke him and it would take him three full seconds for him to process it

[peterpparkrr]

get your Christmas sweater on

peterpparkrr’s 12 days of holiday drabbles

10. Ugly Christmas sweater + Oberyn Martell

Summary: Oberyn ignores your party’s dress code.

“Are you kidding me?!” You hiss as you make a beeline for the man who just entered your holiday party.

“Oh my God,” Oberyn breathes out as he takes his sweet time looking you up and down. “You look ridiculous, sweetheart,” He tells you with a smirk.

“I’m supposed to look ridiculous! And so are you! It’s an ugly Christmas sweater party, so where the fuck is your ugly sweater?” You hiss at him in exasperation. You should have known that he would pull something like this. 

Of course Oberyn would show up to your ugly Christmas sweater party in a half-unbuttoned white dress shirt. 

“I don’t own an ugly Christmas sweater,” He replies with a shrug before holding up the bottle he brought. “But I did bring you my most expensive bottle of Dornish wine. Will that make up for it?”

“Ugh, I’ll find you something in my closet,” You tell him with a huff as you turn on your heels. Ignoring the offering. “Absolutely ridiculous,” You mutter under your breath. 

“Come on,” You prompt as you turn back to see Oberyn studying you with an amused look on his face.

“I didn’t realize that you would take this theme so seriously, otherwise I’d have invested in one of these sweaters for you,” Oberyn admits once you’re alone in your bedroom as he drapes himself across the foot of your bed.

“Like you could look ugly in anything anyways,” You mutter as you rifle through your closet.

“What was that?” Oberyn asks as he sits up slightly.

“Nothing,” You reply as you continue to dig through your belongings.

“No, you think I’m handsome,” Oberyn says.

“Of course I do, and so do you, so I don’t know why you’re surprised by that,” You reply in annoyance as you find what you’re looking for.

“I wasn’t sure if you found me attractive, until right now,” Oberyn tells you. “You’ve never made a move.”

“I see the way you run through your…lovers. Besides, I knew I wasn’t your type,” You tell him.

“What do you know about my type?”

“Seriously?” You ask him with a raised eyebrow. “Fine. You always have some leggy model on your arm, in your bed, by the end of the night. When you’re interested in someone, you make a move. You’ve never made a move on me.”

“Haven’t I?” Oberyn asks as he stands up and makes his way over to you. “Do I not flirt with you every time we’re together?” He asks lowly.

“You flirt with anything that moves,” You reply dismissively.

“But then I have made a move on you. You’re the one who shuts it down.”

You feel your face getting hot. 

“Put this on,” You order him as you press the bunch of fabric in your hands into his chest. Putting some distance between the two of you in an effort to slow down whatever is going on right now.

“Yes ma’am,” Oberyn replies dutifully.

“Don’t be cheeky,” You reply.

Oberyn begins unbuttoning his current shirt and pulling it off as you turn to leave. Oberyn might not care about privacy, but you still do.

“And maybe I’ll take it off of you when the party’s over,” You add in a sudden move of boldness as you shoot Oberyn one last glance before stepping out of your room and back into the party.

Leaving Oberyn grinning to himself as he pulls the gaudy sweater covered in tiny pug faces and the phrase “pugs and kisses” over his torso.

#peterpparkrr's holiday drabbles #12 days of holiday drabbles #oberyn martell #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell fanfic #oberyn martell drabble #oberyn martell reader insert

[hoboscruff]

I absolutely adore your hive worm art SO MUCH

Oh man I forgot I had asks enabled LMAO.

I also adore my hive worm! He's great and soft and wonderful, the only reason I haven't drawn more of him is because most of my art ideas I'd want to draw him in require a lot of range of motion/emotion, and he has such tiny leggies that he can't be expressed in that many ways.

That being said, I do have plans on drawing him some more when I get a good idea

#answering asks #im so sorry it took so long!

[i-did-not-mean-to]

I posted 19,326 times in 2022

That's 15,609 more posts than 2021!

1,670 posts created (9%)

17,656 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@i-did-not-mean-to

@arofili

@lordoftherazzles

@blueberryrock

@eunoiaastralwings

I tagged 4,382 of my posts in 2022

#idnmt answers - 1,241 posts

#asks - 1,069 posts

#incorrect quote - 808 posts

#the hobbit - 526 posts

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#ori - 227 posts

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#the silmarillion - 192 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#the tantalising ambivalence of the stinging cold and the tender touch of his tongue would tickle and arouse this delicate skin – too enchant

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

October 26th

Cuddles

Ah...@mismaeve, here we have my own - very tame - version of Thranduil.

He's a favourite with anon requesters and so, I thought I'd include him in the line-up.

Lots of love from me...

Words: 452

Warnings: innuendo

See the full post

208 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

#4

Slipping through my fingers all the time...

@sorisooyaa & @eunoiaastralwings

Here we go...

Done by the amazing @mysandwichranaway, here is Nerdanel holding her firstborn son, long after he was a size anywhere near appropriate for being picked up!!!

Aren't they beautiful???

Would you look at all that hair too? Gorgeous!!!

Please reblog and spread the word about my friend's talent!!! Commissions are open regularly (go check their profile & treat yourself)! I've been informed that they'll be open after the 20th of this month!

208 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

#3

I'm all about sappy love story for haldir. just don't tell leggy! "Imagine being Elrond's youngest and journeying to Lorien for the first time and falling in love with the charming March Warden Haldir"

Imagine from @imaginexhobbit

With love and thanks -🌙

Hey anon, sorry this took me so long :(

I have never written for Haldir, so please forgive me if it's terrible...(but there's an Easter Egg in it for all the Elf-lovers out there)

Starlight

Words: 1.9 k

Characters: Haldir x reader

Warnings: nothing (at least I hope)

You were entirely unimpressed – this far – with the fabled forest of Lothlórien.

Tired and hungry, you struggled to keep your countenance as smooth and dignified as your dear “father”’s, but – judging by the tutting of your guard-dog – you were not doing the best job.

Elrond had of course had millennia to perfect the gentle expression that hid annoyance and mockery like the morning fog veiled the treacherous crevices in the rocks you used to climb as a youngling.

You were still trying to set your own face into a semblance of decorum when the whole party stopped; it was not abrupt or brusque – Elves flowed, they floated, they hovered gracefully – but you had not been paying attention and – unbeknownst to anybody else – you flinched internally at your lack of perspicacity.

“Milady,” a gentle voice resounded, and you looked up to see a man – armoured and armed – bow slightly, “My name is Haldir and I am to escort you to the Lady of Light.”

Everything about the man was so pale that he looked positively unripe, you thought, intrigued by the silver hue every single thing in sight – the patient stranger included – seemed to have in this enchanted wood.

“My lady,” that strangely exotic apparition greeted you, bowing deeply and introducing himself as something called a ‘March Warden’ – you knew not if he warded the marching or if he was a warden on the march – to which you merely nodded sheepishly.

He was – upon further inspection – a charming creature, somewhere between the ethereal veil of morning mist and the solidity of silver, shining bright in the enchanted gleam filling the air.

As a guest of honour, you were taken to a spacious room in which you washed away the dust from the travel and – finally – found yourself standing on a small balcony overlooking the high trees glimmering as if the stars were attached to their branches like tiny lamps.

You wondered about that stranger who had greeted you with so much reverence and almost shy friendliness; his eyes had been warm and kind despite their frosty colour and his smile had promised a sweetness that was golden more than crystalline.

Everything around you seemed so cold in hue and in décor and yet, that one man had been enough for the heat to linger permanently in your cheeks.

“What are you dreaming of, child?” a voice resounded behind you – mysterious queen, mother-in-law of the one who had taken you in like a father, angelic being – Lady Galadriel was starlight captured in the pristine glass shrine of the fairest woman ever beheld by your humble eyes.

Didn’t she know?

Soundlessly, she floated closer, her gaze following yours and her smile broadening when you tensed upon seeing that Elf you had been thinking about so tirelessly for the last hours appear.

Unlike his Mistress, Haldir moved quickly and purposefully, and you wondered where he was headed.

“The March Warden?” her tone was soft as a summer breeze and held a playful note that surprised you in one so old and stately.

“Milady,” you stammered, unsure what to say.

“I am not certain Elrond would thank me if I let my warden claim his ward,” she chuckled under her breath; the sound was like a complex song rippling through the still air and driving shivers down your spine.

“Although,” a slender finger was pressed against a perfectly shaped chin in an expression of thoughtfulness, “that would teach him.”

“What do you mean?” you asked breathlessly, overwhelmed by her presence.

See the full post

220 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

#2

Sorry if this is a bit too specific: legolas marries the readers on the request of his father and a lord. Reader thinks it's ok .. they can work it out, but decades pass and they have never been intimate and watches the lingering glances he has towards tauriel. But she keeps trying to get his attention, but when legolas decided to run after tauriel during the DOS she runs away leaving a letter and wedding ring behind. Legolas admits to Tauriel he loved her cause of everything she had done for him after BOTFA, but tauriel is absolutely confused saying that was never her. Legolas horrified coming to realise it was all the reader's doing, he tries deny it first but out of shock and thranduil almost shouts at him to open his eyes and see the truth. So when legolas returns and sees the letter and ring left behind, he sets out to find her again 🤔 and does he? Fluff ending? Up to you, because i marvel at how you write and bring a story to a close .. that is not heavy on the mind.

- Thank you and sorry for being very specific. Change it along if it easier for yourself. You are the writer and I'm your simple requester with an idea too big and a writing too rough and small 🤪

Dear anon, this was indeed very specific...

So, to keep the suspense up, I'll do this in two parts :D

Vows - Part I

Words: 1,1 k

Warning: Marital problems, pain, hint at infidelity (emotional)

The news of your impending betrothal had come one sunny morning and – obedient to a fault – you didn’t even think it necessary to agree explicitly.

It was, after all, a great honour to be married to the prince of the woodland realm – a young Elf so charming and handsome that many a maiden would have killed to be in your shoes – according to the express wishes of both the king and your eminent father.

The fact that you did not know Legolas or had ever spoken to him beyond the courteous exchanges that were both usual and expected in your circles did not dissuade you from believing that everything would work out fine.

You were – in a word – full of a faith that bordered on naïveté; while you had spent your youth in the protective cocoon of your parents’ love, Legolas had been raised to be a warrior and a royal, but you were convinced that you’d find common ground eventually.

Your wedding was a very formal affair – much to your disappointment – and you silently bemoaned the impossibility to find a single quiet moment to get to know your betrothed a little better.

At all times, there was some kinsman, subject, or friend interrupting and pulling away your newly minted husband to drink with them or exchange news pertaining to subjects hardly meant for the sensitive ears of a porcelain court doll.

It hurt you to admit it, but you felt utterly and miserably lonely at your own wedding and still, you had faith in your marriage.

You had been born and bred to be a wife; you knew that you could be a good one and Legolas struck you as a gentle soul you could even grow to care for.

That night, and every night after though, he would refrain from joining you in your marital chamber. You knew not whence he left until – months later – you followed him discreetly and found out that he would sit in a tree until morning light.

No doubt, this was hardly restful!

The years crept by slowly; you grew used to that presence at your side that was so much like the sun and the moon: ever there and yet impossible to touch.

Your husband turned out to be mild and very kind; he would make pleasant conversation with you at banquets and formal dinners, but he never actively sought out your presence when you were alone – reading or watching the stars – in your private quarters.

Moreover, you were not blind to the lingering looks he would lavish on that red-haired Elven guard – Tauriel – and you couldn’t help the incessant, voracious growth of the grapevines of envy and jealousy that slowly choked the life out of your heart.

Legolas knew that he was doing you wrong.

At first, he had resented the meddlesome attitude of his father upon learning that a bride – a total stranger – had been selected for him and the fact that you had meekly agreed to that devious plot did not inspire great trust in him either.

He was aware of his social standing of course and he was afraid that it had merely been his title and not his person that had swayed a young lady of the court to accept the proposal made in his name and without his knowledge.

Upon seeing you though, he had to admit that you were indeed of a rare beauty, but your obedient, gentle demeanour still rubbed him the wrong way; he was relatively young and he desired to challenge and to be challenged in turn.

His heart had long been set on his friend – feisty, courageous, outrageous Tauriel – who made him feel as if he – as a person independently of his name and standing – had some inherent value.

Nonetheless, he could not deny that he felt guilty about having given his word – and his hand – in matrimony to a lady only to turn around and neglect her.

You acted so much like a merely decorative thing, sitting around like a perfect life-sized doll, that he found it a little too easy to discard you and pursue his own interests selfishly.

It was not even as if he didn’t like you; on the contrary, you were a great conversationalist and – being warm-hearted and kind – he did not doubt for a single second that you would be a great princess and – in time – maybe even queen to the realm.

Mindful of the safety and well-being of the subjects, you often spoke about concerns that sounded painfully dull to him.

See the full post

233 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

You write our favorite elven king so good though! 😱. I want to request for maybe Celebrity/Royal meeting normal citizen? Legolas introducing the reader, his courtee who is human and from the modern world to his father. He met her during the journey to destroy the ring when she literally fell into middle earth and is stuck here? Shy reader who hides behind legolas -🌙

Dear Nonnie, I am so sorry I got this wrong the first time around...

(Here's the discarded story)

But...here's your story <3

Dresses

Words: 1,7 k

Warnings: none

Characters: Legolas x Reader, Thranduil

“I should be wearing a dress,” you sighed, looking miserably at the reflection in the weirdly cloudy stream of the river.

Since you had practically fallen into a magical world with dragons and dwarves, you had been clad in hand-me-downs and borrowed garments that were ill-fitting at best and outright unflattering at worst.

“Why?” Legolas cocked his shapely head like one of the birds native to this enchanted forest – keeper of the history of the land – in an expression of his utter astonishment, “Whatever do you need a dress for?”

He thought about it for a moment and then, a slight hint of heat crept into his high, pale cheeks.

“Of course,” he exclaimed hastily, “you are uncomfortable in my breeches. Once you’ve seen my father, I shall send for the seamstress and you may have anything your heart desires!”

“Love,” you laid your hand on his forearm to forestall the flood of loving words about to pour forth, “it is not vanity that ails me. I…I just don’t think that dirty leggings are the right apparel when meeting a king.”

Your beloved – with whom you had braved dangers you could never have imagined in your previous life – smiled softly at that.

“Thranduil is a vain creature but he will never fault you for bearing the marks of an honest fight,” he assured you, waving – graceful as ever – at his own stained travel clothes. As if he wouldn’t be put in a bathtub and wrapped in silk and velvet before going to meet his eminent father, the king.

You walked on, the trees whispering around you as if they knew who was moving among them.

As the destination of your stroll came into view, your breath hitched in your throat; you had fought and scrambled – you had been forced to hit the ground running to avoid dying in a world where nobody would even know what name to put on the gravestone – but this was different.

War was the same in every universe and in every realm: it was a narrative written in blood, and – as a mere commoner, so much more common than the peasants in this world even – you had done as much as you could, never resting, never wondering why, never even taking the time to settle into this new place.

The only anchor you had was this ethereal creature almost floating by your side, a languid smile on his lips upon seeing his father’s halls once more; a part of Legolas – this much you knew for he had told you – had not expected ever laying eyes upon his home or his king again.

“I am a foreigner,” you whispered, every breath you drew more laboured and shivering than the one before.

“Everyone is,” Legolas replied lightly, “Thranduil is a breed apart, so to say, and you will not be stranger to him than a dwarf or a hobbit.”

“You say that,” you mumbled, not entirely convinced.

Of course, by now, you wore the clothes usual in this realm, you had a notion of the most important languages and could distinguish them even if you did not master them, you were used to the food and the weather, but that did not mean that you were ready for societal challenges such as meeting an elusive and mystical king.

“He is not only my king, ruler of my home realm,” Legolas impressed upon you, his warm hand grabbing yours and holding it gingerly, “he is also my father and so, he will be overjoyed to meet the one who stole my heart.”

When you didn’t reply, Legolas went on: “And he has seen battle…My sweet love, Thranduil has seen more of war than you could ever picture; he does not shrink from the sight of blood and dirt.”

He sighed.

You knew that his life had been a long one – compared to the average lifespan of those living in your world – and that, despite the centuries alive, Legolas was still ‘young’ to his own kin; the things you had seen, the skills he displayed, the knowledge and lore he had shared, all of this made it very hard for you to fathom how he could be considered green or inexperienced by his people.

Instead of assuaging your anxiety, the thought of his status as a sapling amongst trees, when he was a mountain amongst pebbles to you, only heightened your apprehension; his beloved father and venerated king would take one look at you and throw you out on your very mortal ass.

See the full post

304 notes - Posted February 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[manilafm]

Most wanted from gravity falls and the owl house, please? Thank you! And do you accept anonymous reservations?

Anonymous reserves require the first name of the character, and the last name of the character, and the FULL name of the fandom ( without nicknames or abbreviations ), and your O.O.C. alias / your O.O.C. name, but yes, we do allow anonymous reserves !! And they will last for twelve hours if sent anonymously.

And our most wanted characters from Gravity Falls are Bill Cipher, Stanley Pines, Stanford Pines, Jesus ‘Soos’ Ramírez, Grenda Grendinator, Priscilla Northwest, Pacifica Northwest, Fiddleford 'Old Man’ McGucket, Gompers The Goat, Sheriff Blubs, Deputy Durland, Tambry, Robert 'Robbie’ Valentino, Buddy 'Bud’ Gleeful, Preston Northwest, Lee, Nate, Xyler, Craz, Thompson, 'Lazy’ Susan Wentworth, Tobias 'Toby’ Determined, Sir Lord Quentin Trembley, III, Esquire, Blendin Blandin, The Time Baby, Daniel 'Manly Dan’ Corduroy, Tyler Cutebiker, Free Pizza Guy, Tate McGucket, Mr. Poolcheck, Mrs. Gleeful, Reginald, Rosanna, Shandra Jimenez, Shmipper, Smabble, Tad Strange, Mayor Eustace 'Huckabone’ Befufftlefumpter, Lolph, Dundgren, 8-Ball, Kryptos, Zanthar, Teeth, Keyhole, Hectorgon, Amorphous Shape, Pyronica, Paci-Fire, Lava Lamp Guy, Eye Bats, The Horrifying Sweaty One-Armed Monstrosity, The Creature With Eighty-Eight Different Faces, Rumble McSkirmish, Giffany, or ’.GIFfany’, Celestabellebethabelle, The clones of Dipper Pines, Ma Duskerton, Pa Duskerton, Tyrone Pines, Creggy G., Greggy C., Leggy P., Chubby Z. and Deep Chris of Sev'ral Timez, Mermando, 'Blind’ Ivan Wexler, and Darlene !!

And our most wanted characters from The Owl House are Luz Noceda, Willow Park, Boscha, Amity Blight, Odalia Blight, Amelia, Cat, Hunter / The Golden Guard, Lilith Clawthorne, Emira 'Em’ Blight, Edalyn ‘Eda’ Clawthorne, King Clawthorne, Hooty, Augustus 'Gus’ Porter, Principal Hieronymus Bump, Camila Noceda, Philip Wittebane / Emperor Belos, Kikimora, The Collector, Warden Wrath, Tibblet-Tibblie 'Tibbles’ Grimmhammer, III, Gwendolyn Clawthorne, Katya, Tinella 'Tiny Nose’ Nosa, Snaggleback, Steve, Morton, Alador Blight, Braxas, Vee / 'Number 5’, Perry Porter, Gilbert Park, Harvey Park, Captain Salty, Jean-Luc, Malphas, Amber, Derwin, Dell Clawthorne, Flora D'esplora, Masha, Professor Hermonculus, Faust, Edric 'Ed’ Blight, Matt Tholomule, Viney, Jerbo, Barcus, Skara, Eileen, Selene, Bo, Bria, Angmar, Gavin, The Bat Queen, Raine Whispers, Darius Deamonne, Eberwolf, Terra Snapdragon, Adrian Graye Vernworth, Jacob Hopkins, Bill, and Tarak !!

You’re welcome, ‘nonnie !!

#multifandom rp #fandom rp #gravity falls rp #owl house rp #disney rp #the owl house rp #animated rp #cartoon rp #animated rpg #cartoon rpg #manila:admin. #manila:M.W. #manila:F.A.Q.S. #manila:admin.georgia. #answered #anonymous #gravity falls rpg #disney channel rp #the owl house rpg #disney channel rpg #gravity falls roleplay #the owl house roleplay #disney channel roleplay #the owl house roleplay group #gravity falls roleplay group

[lomodistribution]

Watch my days of mercy online free

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so which movies COULD she be talking about? Marilyn Monroe biopic star Ana De Armas slams NC-17 rating from Netflix and says other films on streaming giant are 'more explicit'. Venice Film Festival 2022: Georgina Rodriguez puts on a VERY leggy display in a backless black dress with a daring thigh-high split

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Pure feel-good escapism! From George Clooney and Julia Roberts to hilarious dialogue and a stunning setting, here's why we're all going to LOVE hit new comedy Ticket to Paradiseįormula 1 driver Lando Norris splits from model girlfriend Luisinha Oliveira - just two weeks after their romantic trip to Ibiza while Daddy finishes work! Carrie Johnson takes son Wilfred to wildlife park as Boris spends his last days as PM Rocket Maaaan! David Walliams delights pals Elizabeth Hurley and Elton John as he leaps off yacht into the water in the South of France Olivia Wilde pictured for the first time after tension exposed on the set of her Don't Worry Darling as she wears crop top in LA

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Love Island's Amber Gill looks in high spirits as she dons a tiny bikini and sips on cocktails during a boozy Mykonos boat trip after her 'coming out' tweetĬost of living on your mind? Here's how to take control of your money and make it work for you 'It's very peculiar': Melinda Messenger, 51, hits back at 'anti-ageing' reaction to snap of her natural grey hair after she ditched her trademark blonde locks Moment shirtless Tommy Fury 'swings punches at his brother Roman as a man stands between them in raucous 4am fight' on Manchester night out Venice Film Festival 2022: Cate Blanchett turns heads in a velvet jumpsuit while Julianne Moore takes the plunge in a VERY low-cut black gown at the Tár premiere South African Lion King composer 'does not remember' discussing Nelson Mandela with Meghan Markle at Lion King premiere The song was recorded as a new take on his 1971 classic hit, Tiny Dancer. She has since teamed up with Elton John to release her first song since the end of her legal arrangement - a track called Hold Me Closer. Spears regained control of her life last November after her 13-year conservatorship was terminated. In the shot, which she later deleted, Spears donned a long-sleeved floral top with white shorts and sunglasses with white rims. !!!' as she was also pictured Monday posing in a garage alongside an electric bike. Spears later updated the caption, writing, 'Psss found my bike y'all. 'And my one outing a week to therapy driving 20 mph to get there… life goes on … not a big deal AT ALL … I mean AT ALL !!! Just want to send my love and remembrance to those who cleverly TOOK CARE OF ME BUT ALSO HAD ME IN A CHAIR WORKING FOR THEM for 10 hours a mother f**king day !!! I’m just saying … stay gold folks !!! It’s a s**t race people !!! Life comes fast if and if you don’t move fast, you might just miss it !!!' "Sensitively etched by Ellen Page (now Elliot Page) and Kate Mara.Smiling: Spears was also pictured Monday posing in a garage alongside an electric bike, as she donned a long-sleeved floral top with white shorts and sunglasses with white rims Can Lucy and Mercy overcome their intense differences, or will these differences consume them? But eventually Lucy must confess her reasons for getting involved in the cause: her own father was convicted of murder and now waits on death row. Their relationship grows from hostility to curiosity to intense, physical passion. Lucy and Mercy could be bitter enemies, yet they share an undeniable connection. Mercy is there to celebrate justice served. At one such event, Lucy spots Mercy, daughter of a police officer whose partner was killed by a man about to receive a lethal injection. Sisters Lucy and Martha Morrow are regular attendees at state executions across the Midwest, where they demonstrate in favor of abolishing the death penalty.

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[mildly-incoherent-ramblings]

I Am A Fantasy Creature (Writing Prompt)

It's a late night, I'm walking over to Jerry's to chat over a bottle of wine one of the humans accidentally left behind over at the camp grounds. The young people like to come a lot and trash the place, often leaving things behind. He figured hey, they didn’t want it right? And invited me over to share it with him. 

Here I am walkin’ along, my big beautiful lengthy legs step by step getting me where I need to go. I love my legs. They carry and support my gentle little body, and keep me very far from the filthy ground. That might be an odd thing to like about one’s legs but there's really not much else of me. I have my two limbs and I'm proud of them both, they serve me well.

I made my way through the woods and then back toward the people homes and was just enjoying my night y’know? All the nocturnal critters and such hunting, foraging, existing. It’s a beautiful world at night, I’m almost glad I only can travel at this time. I’d have to cut through a few yards to get over to Jerry’s, but it’s a short walk and though I am not very fast I’m at least courteous, quiet as I can be. I’d hate to be a bother.

This is something I do about three times a week at least so the route is familiar; I’m used to it. I’m not paying attention. Something catches my eye though, something near the back of the house across from the yard I am walking through. I see a glowing light with a little rectangle behind it, and a couple of the humans silhouetted before it, the light flashing over them. I started to wonder if it hurts their eyes. I have seen this object before, its called a cell phone. When the people come to the wilderness they often flash the lights at each other and the phone records them, and then they look at them together and smile. I think its a form of communication, like an abstract expression of affection. 

Humans really like those phones, I've always wondered what it would be like to have one. If I were to ever have arms the first thing I might do is pick up and look at a cell phone and see what all the fuss is about. I hear the sounds of people and different pings and blings and fun little vibrations and lights but I'm never close enough to see what's on their screens. At least TV’s and computers are visible through windows and in store displays.

I cautiously walk by, but I just can’t help myself. They were standing with their backs to me, now looking at the screen at something they like and laughing. I shift directions hoping to get close enough to look. I forget though, I have these long ass fucking legs, my body is quite small in comparison so its a bit hard to see where I am treading at times. As I am trotting toward them my foot catches on a branch laying around and I stumble a little. The crunch of the leaves and twigs under my feet catch their attention. They turn around, shocked at the sight of me; looking up and pointing their bright flashy light at me. At first I think: hey maybe this is a good thing? They were not scared or angry, but making many noises I could not understand. And the light! They do this to things they like, right? Did they want to make friends? I’m not sure how to communicate so I just wander over to get a better look. As I got closer, I hear one of them say “Look at the LEGS on that thing. Do you see its body?? What the fuck is it?!” 

Well that’s rude, I happen to like my legs. I look down at them, my beautiful, elegant legs. The legs that carry me everywhere. What about them is so bad if I'm lucky enough to have a body that is so kind to me? I turn and keep on walking and decide not to worry about it anymore. If they felt so repulsed by my appearance that they had to mislead me into thinking they were friendly just to mock me, I want none of it. This really hurt my feelings; my cousin Roger had the same shit happen to him about two months ago and I remember trying to reassure him that they didn’t mean any harm. Clearly that was wrong. I mean what is with these people? 

I feel like we could have been friends. All I wanted was to see if they had games on their phone...

I sigh, and look up at the moon. Then I turn and continue my journey onward, wondering where the smelly, trash making meat sacks that destroy the forests and eat my animal friends got the audacity? I shouldn’t waste my time. I’m going to Jerry’s. Humans are good for one thing, and that’s making fucking wine. That stuff is pretty great, even if it makes me feel funny. 

The next evening I would be wandering through town clutching a bag of snack cakes in my teeth I found in a dumpster behind the gas station when I passed an open window. The television was on in this room, and they were broadcasting this video of me wandering innocently over to the humans to see if their phone had games. I hear: "...and on to the next story for tonight, A Terrifying Monster Approaches A Young Couple During Their Weekend AirBnB Retreat... CAUGHT ON VIDEO!" With a narrator and a slowed down play by play analyzing my movements, approximating my height, and some disturbing sounds I can only assume they’re implying are my form of speech. Do they really think I sound like that??? These fucking flesh lumps are profiling me! Just saying the most awful things about me and my wonderful legs. "Cryptid" they called me. “terrifying.” I’m not terrifying! I’m a nice guy, how could they have gotten that impression? What’s terrifying about me?! I’m the one who was afraid if anything. They’re at least a foot taller than me, lengthy appendages notwithstanding, so what the fuck? How awful.

Just wait until Jerry hears about this, He’s gonna be pissed. 

(Fresno nightwalker)

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