#My Affectionate and Tender Beast

[shurochka-azarova]

My Affectionate and Tender Beast /  Мой ласковый и нежный зверь, 1979.

Directed by  Emil Loteanu.

[montblanckeeper]

[nymphcinema]

My Tender and Affectionate Beast (1978) dir. Emil Loteanu

[ynmusic]

Вальс из к/ф  "Мой ласковый и нежный зверь" ( Eugen Doga )

"My Affectionate and Tender Beast" 

[dare-g]

My Tender and Affectionate Beast (1978)

[boimlerkisser]

God I am sO SOFT FOR BEEJ RN,,

[foli-vora]

Massive congrats Foli! Thanks for bringing joy and thots to us, we appreciate you! 💗

I’m being greedy and I know it: 110 “is that a drawing of me?” with Marcus Pike à la You’re Somebody Else? Angsty or heartbreaking smut? Or both?

my sweet, sweet angel! thank you so much for your request and your kind words. i appreciate your presence here! i'm always down for hopping into this universe - i hope you enjoy! x

rough lines [marcus POV ’you're somebody else’]

marcus pike (alex) x f!reader

word count: 1.8k+ warnings: angst. A N G S T. lies and deception, undercover work, soft moments, these two were so in love it fucking hurts me, soft sad smut/love making - not overly explicit but still very much 18+ ONLY.

It shouldn’t be happening like this, but it is.

He feels it everywhere. He feels it thrum through his system, mixing with the blood that runs through his veins. He feels it in the pit of his stomach, twisting and curling and threatening to tear its way up his throat and choke him. He feels it crawl over his skin, stretching over his being with rivers of trembles and sparks of something wonderful. 

Love.

God, he’s such an idiot.

What the hell is he doing?

This is a job—a case—and here he is, falling in love. 

Falling? No. It’s too late. He’s already fallen. He’s done for. He’s sold his soul and now has to live with the pain of knowing it has an end date. This wouldn’t, couldn’t, be forever, and it’s starting to slowly break him. He swears he could hear the tic of a clock.

Time patiently chips at his heart, the inevitable end lingers in the shadows of every tender moment.

There would be no ring. No house. No altar. No future.

He fights it. Of course he does. 

Despite his heart singing it’s relief, it’s joy, of finally finding another, he shuts it away. He ignores the thrill that shoots through his system. He ignores the way his heart starts to thud in his ears. He ignores the fire left in the wake of your touch.

You give him the affectionate name of Snoopy. You merely think he just likes rifling through your things, flicking page after page of your journals and sketchbooks out of curiosity and the want to know you on a deeper, more personal level… if only you knew. 

While, yes, that was true—he loved studying the curl of your handwriting and the notes you’d leave next to your drawings and memories and soaking in your voice as it recalled moments in the past—he was looking for things to lead him and his team in the right direction with the case.

He wasn’t doing it for the right reasons. 

You believed he was just asking about your friends after coming across photographs of you smiling prettily at the camera, when in reality he was memorising names to give to his fellow agents for a background check and to grow their lengthy suspect list.

Every bit of your life was under scrutiny, under careful observation, and you had no idea. None whatsoever.

He wasn’t expecting the guilt that would come with this investigation and the way it would grow, the way it would fester into this hideous beast of a thing that threatened to make him sick the second he looked at you.

It’s there now, bubbling on the back of his tongue—anxiety, nausea, mixing with the ever present words of apology and declarations of love. Words you’d never dream of hearing, yet words you’ll hear through ringing ears as your love for him morphes into red hot loathing. Hatred.

He won’t ever be ready, prepared, for that day.

The soft pat and stroke of your brush is calming in your apartment, lit only by your favourite candles lining every available surface. You weren’t into strong bright lighting, choosing to instead turn to soft, warm hued lamps and lighting wicks birthing a constantly calm, welcoming atmosphere.

He knows your favourite scents.

He knows your favourite lamp. 

He knows you prefer to lounge on the large, shaggy rug rather than any of your comfortable chairs.

He knows the way your tongue would peak from between your lips when focusing.

He knows you. 

The nausea grows.

He can no longer focus on the journal in his hands and flicks it shut, smoothing his fingers over the front cover with an air of apology for stealing from its depths. He slides it back into your monstrosity of a bookcase, the vintage dark wood stretching along your wall, ignoring the way your collection of trinkets and souvenirs placed over the shelves seem to jeer him.

“Are you okay?”

Your voice pulls him from studying the shelves, and he forces a smile in return, turning his head to find you sat comfortably on your rug with a small easel propped out in front of you. He can see the swirls of colour sprawling out across the canvas—an original, he notices with relief— and admires it as he wanders closer, sinking down behind you and warming at the way you comfortably recline into him.

“Yeah baby, just had a bad day,” he murmurs, kissing the bare skin of your shoulder where your cardigan had fallen from.

He rests his lips there, sighing quietly and closing his eyes, almost in pain, when your hand raises to cradle the back of his head, your fingers weaving and combing through the grown out hair there. Your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and, just for a moment, he pretends he’s himself.

Marcus.

He’s Marcus, not Alex.

It’s bliss.

There’s no hiding, no secrets kept close to his chest or lies to burn his mouth. You know him, you know everything, and you’re still here, still open to him, loving him… but the moment can never linger. He returns to the present, to the truth of your situation, and languidly opens his eyes at your concerned tone. His fantasy melts away with the next exhale that blows along your skin. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask quietly, tilting your head so you could gaze up at him from where you rest against his chest.

“It’s work,” he replies truthfully, letting his head hang until his forehead presses into yours, “it’s just getting harder and harder, that’s all.”

It wasn’t meant to be this hard.

The feelings he holds for you had just developed so quickly, and admittedly, he had lost himself in the budding romance. The intel on you had left out how sweet you are. How caring and kind and compassionate and smart… he should’ve stepped back the second he felt that spark of true attraction.

Maybe it was selfishness, maybe it was the loneliness inside him crying for the company of another… either way, he was fucked.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you murmur softly, your fingers tracing his cheek, “is there anything I can do?”

Self loathing rolls around the pit of his stomach at your tone, at your touch. His exhale blows softly across your lips, his head giving a small shake of denial. 

“It’s just the way it has to be,” he admits in a whisper, trying to push his unspoken apology into his tone.

He hates it. He hates it so fucking much.

“I get it,” you reply with a distinct note of sadness, your eyes fluttering to a gentle close. 

God, he wishes you’d say more.

Maybe he could help you, maybe he could get you out before it all goes too far. Maybe there was still time…

You’ve been incredibly tight-lipped about your place in this whole illegal art ring, but with the more time he spends with you, taking in the cryptic marks you’d make here and there, he’s almost certain you weren’t into this life of crime as others may suspect.

It’s not like he could just come straight out and ask you, so he was simply left with his theories until you trusted him enough to open up. 

“No more talk of work,” you decide after a moment of silence, turning in his hold and looping your arms around his neck with a sweet smile.

He finds himself returning it immediately, unable to resist.

“Okay,” he grins, eyes closing at the delicate press of your lips.

Everything feels so easy with you, so natural. The way your lips mould with his, the way you both seem to fall into such an effortless rhythm. He burns under your hands, his heart launching into his throat as your nimble fingers drag his T-shirt up and off his body before exploring the planes of his bare torso. 

He’ll never get sick of the sounds that fall from your throat. Your whines, each and every soft exhale, the muffled moans that he swallows down eagerly when his own hands explore your body.

He memorises it all.

The feel of your skin, the curves and dips and soft spots that tear the prettiest of sounds from your lips; the way your back arches when he hovers over you, his mouth crafting its own path over your skin; the way you open up for him, weep for him, muscles clenching and tightening and fluttering around him as you meet your end. 

The guilt lingers.

It hangs there in the back of his mind as he moves, his skin like fire against yours as he fills you. He hides in your throat, squeezes his eyes shut when you start to whisper the name that doesn’t belong to him. If he focuses hard enough, he can almost imagine your sweet coo of Marcus ringing in his ears.

The shadow of it takes hold when he sits on the edge of your bed after spending the evening losing himself in you, chasing your end and kissing away your bliss filled tears. He tugs at his jeans, pulling them up his legs and relishing in the warm fingertips that trace up and down his spine, bringing a pleasant wash of electricity across his skin.

“Can I have my water, please?” You murmur tiredly from where you rest in the sheets, your face half hidden in the pillow you snuggle into.

He gives you an amused smile over his shoulder before stretching for the water jug beside your bed, pausing when the page of your open sketchbook resting on the edge of the night stand catches his eye, displaying a familiar face crafted from hasty, rough lines of graphite. His stomach tightens.

“Is that a drawing of me?”

You hum softly, accepting the offered jug and leaning up on an elbow, unbothered by your nudity as the sheet slips and pools around your stomach. You gulp at the water greedily, smiling when he catches the drop that escapes your lips and slides down your chin with the rough pad of his thumb.

“It is,” you admit quietly, “that’s not weird, is it?”

He chuckles, reaching for the sketch pad and shaking his head. 

“No, it’s not. Why did you draw me, though? I’m hardly the Statue of David,” he says with a heavy tone of amusement, his grin hiding the faint wash of pink that crawls along his cheeks.

You sit up more, shifting closer to him and brushing the strands of hair falling over his forehead with such a soft tenderness it threatens to knock him down. 

“Because you inspire me.”

His heart aches at your answer, the pain spreading throughout his chest and seeping into his bloodstream. It takes every bit of strength within him to not let the anguish twist his features as you soften into his side with a peace filled exhale, a single thought circling around and around his mind with a fierce, unrelenting force—

I’m so sorry.

---

everything pp tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @sergeantbannerbarnes, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @kelseyxyeslek, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld, @juletheghoul, @punkerthanpascal, @itswanktime, @karolydulin, @pedrostories, @fabilei, @ghostwiththemostbitch, @omlwhatamidoinghere, @cannedsoupsucks, @chaoticemz, @hows-my-hair, @alexxavicry, @cran-berry-vodka, @deadhumourist, @outercrasis, @thisshipwillsail316, @toxicfrankenstein, @hotchlover, @ew-erin, @mishasminion360, @jitterbugs927, @penelopeimp, @woodland-mist, @pedro-pastel, @spaceserialkiller, @adriiibell, @1andthesame, @elegantduckturtle, @captain-jebi, @magpie-to-the-morning, @sharkbait77, @sleep-tight1, @musings-of-a-rose, @karlawithacapitalk, @woomen23, @frasmotic, @songsformonkeys, @loonymagizoologist, @aynsleywalker, @ruhro7, @bluestuesday, @what-iwish-you-knew, @princess-djarinn, @totallynotastanacc, @girlofchaos, @pjkimrn, @bangaveragewhitewine, @trickstersp8, @rominaszh, @gooddaykate, @ms-loverman-066, @bunniwarrior, @detectivecarisi-1, @tintinn16, @iceclaw101, @bport76, @thatpinkshirt, @tusk89, @withakindheartx, @curiouskeyboard, @pedropascalsx, @sirpascal, @racetrackheart, @timpletance, @titabel, @xdaddysprincessxx, @dnxgma, @astronomeoww, @dindjarinswhore, @alwaysdjarin, @mando-amando, @mx-ferelden, @trinkets01, @jxvipike, @thesmutslut, @thereisaplaceintheheart, @scentedthingtidalwave, @mwltwo, @loveslide, @artsymaddie, @untitledarea, 

marcus pike tags: @pedrohoe04, @evyiione, @androah, @wildmoonflower, @naughtynecromancer, @quica-quica-quica, @stevenmylove, @lawfulgranola, @fuckoffbard, @dins-cyare, @eatommo, @serini-ty, @chaoticevilbakugo, @raphaelaisabella, @f*cklife_imdreaminghere, @randomchick546, @in-for-a-pennyx, @littleone65, @joelmiller81, @Curiouser-an-curiouser, @h-hxgirl, @thevoiceinyourheadx,  @shadowolf993

yse/rty tags: @kirsteng42, @insomniamamma, @albertasunrise, @oursubjectisntcool, @birdie-girl, @lepagera-blog, @maryfanson, @toomanystoriessolittletime, @cecilyjmorgenstern, @donnaa, @spishsstuff, @hungrhay, @tanyaherondale, @dreamcatcher121, @elegantmusicdragon, @aninnai

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Yuu being a fairly cheery person, but she's talented at writing angsty fanfics and stories with heart-wrenching or ambiguous endings. People read it, and they're like, "Who hurt you?"

Belle is either a fan of her works or her main editor. She's one of those readers that angrily praises Yuu for breaking her heart (she means that affectionately.)

Gaston is just scoffing at why someone would be so affected by a piece of writing. He reads it, and an hour later, LeFou finds him sitting in front of the fireplace unnervingly still with no emotion in his eyes and Yuu's latest work on the floor. Gaston is just holding a glass of scotch that he barely took a sip from. I imagine that it's the same reaction people had to Crona's poem in Soul Eater

So I’m in love with bookworm!Yuu and I headcanon that she had the same reaction to the NRC library as Belle did with Beast’s library.

And when the club were watching her memories and Belle saw Yuu get excited over books, she was like ‘new BFF’ 😊

Yuu and the Disney characters definitely have a book club and some members include: Belle, Rapunzel, Beast/Adam, Ratigan, Quasimodo and others.

(This isn’t really part of the ask but I headcanon that Leona is well-read in Shakespeare one because he was a prince and two because of Lion King’s ties to Hamlet and as a Shakespeare fan myself I think they’d basically recreate the deleted scene in Beauty and the Beast where Belle reads Romeo and Juliet)

(Also, Belle and Yuu totally fangirl about Shakespeare together while Adam and Leona just give them looks of affection the whole time)

I can imagine that Yuu would write fanfiction (Rook and Lilia do as well) and she can either go completely fluffy and filled with the most heart-warming declarations of tender and warm love that makes you feel so elated it’s like you’re in heaven or angst that is so soul crushing that it feels like you got punched in the gut and all you want to do is hide under the covers and cry until your eyes sting.

The book club is impressed. Belle is her most loyal and devoted fan and wonders how someone so emotionally intelligent  fails to see the many many suitors who are madly in love with her.

Oh my god, Gaston! I love the fact that HoM!Gaston is basically the opposite of Hercules. The only way you’d get him to read something is to draw something on it since like Alice he believes that a book is boring/impossible to read if it has no pictures (honestly, I think that realisation is what makes Alice start to think that maybe having no pictures is not a bad thing). 

The villains decide to give her writing a try considering that they claimed her as one of them first (no, you literally didn’t. The sensational six/heroes were her friends first) (they’d argue that since she goes to a villain school she’s an honorary villain) (someone stop them before another custody battle starts).

I would give anything to see Chernobog or The Horned King be all like ‘this is child’s play’ and then you find them catatonic as they sit at their tables completely silent.

Maleficent is so proud of her. She always knew that she’d make an exceptional granddaughter-in-law. 

Daisy: You sure you can handle it, Hades? This is pretty heavy stuff.

Hades: I’m the Lord of the Underworld, babes. God of the dead? Ring any bells? I’ve met the souls and read the records of the worst of the worst. This little piece of paper is nothing.

*one hour later*

Pain and Panic: *enter Hades’ office after he locked himself in there and find him cuddling Cerberus, his shoulders visibly shaking* Uhh, boss? You okay there? 

Hades: *voice thick and cracking with emotion and it’s clear that he’s been crying* GET OUT *throws a spare box of tissues at them*

[shurochka-azarova]

My Affectionate and Tender Beast /  Мой ласковый и нежный зверь, 1979.

Directed by  Emil Loteanu.

[montblanckeeper]

[horanghoe]

i am begging for joshua being a simp for his wife on a date while a babysitter watches the kiddos

main masterlist / svt masterlist

listen to:

- light a flame / seventeen

- girl like me / shakira

husband!josh & semi-sfw simping, leggo babey ~

t/w: mention of alcohol consumption, swearing, generally SFW.

something about that fitted silk dress -

something about the frown on your brow, and the hair curling against the nape of your neck -

something in the way you flick across the wine menu like someone discovering their semester census for the first time -

something in the way you whine at the complicated titles of traditional dishes -

something in the way your necklace slopes down into the crevasse of dreams -

"Joshie, quit staring at my cleavage before I regret taking you here, pronto."

a tight smile is pressed to your husbands' lips as he blinks his daze away sheepishly.

"Sorry love, but how could I not look at you? you're a million times more captivating than this venue -"

"Joshua," you scolded under your breath, already able to determine where that conversation was going via experience.

the said male quirked a brow, amused as to how flustered you were getting. fifteen minutes in at this expensive venue and you still hadn't picked a drink, let alone food.

"we're in public. please. behave."

your husband snickered at your tongue pressing to your teeth in small statements, swirling the dark bitter liquid before throwing his head back.

as Joshua's head returned to its usual axis, eyes set on yours, he could have wiped your dribble with a tissue. the opened collar of his shirt revealed to the world what had kept you content for so long. as if to add to the stabbing at your heart, his foot tactfully - and affectionately - rubbed at your ankle under the blanketed table.

"Y/N, you're ogling, dear. please. we're in public."

he spoke quietly, politely and far too proudly. and the smirk hidden behind the frosted glass told you he had won.

"whatever..." you mumbled, puffing your cheeks with a hidden coy smile, keeping your eyes on the menu.

Joshua gave you time to think, laughing airily. his foot brushing your calf, a comforting alternative to the bustling of the restaurant.

he peered out at the warm summer night, from your seats close to the balcony - but not close enough to be cold. positioned close to the bathroom - but not close enough to be distracted.

such were the things your husband had considered in advance when arranging the evening. and had started to consider whenever you two and the newborn went anywhere together. the last year had been a tricky balance of parenting and tending to the embers of love crackling between the two of you. luckily, it had barely been touched. if anything the struggle of life stoked it into a great blaze.

"I can feel you looking at me." you mumbled. quirking your head in acknowledgement, while your eyes stay fixed onto the disgustingly complex wine menu.

Joshua nodded a "sorry. you're so beautiful tonight - it must have distracted me.", before smirking his way out of an argument. a hand dropping to caress your elbow. you grumbled, pulling away from the irritatingly flirtatious beast in front of you.

"you're a handsome idiot. now shush."

Joshua conceded, leaning back on his chair.

your baby girl was rounding a year's worth of life, and as his eyes drifted back to your beauty, Joshua felt a funny flutter of coiling love in his gut.

a baby sitter awaited at home, with explicit instructions to 'go enjoy yourselves - you both deserve it!'. and with the salsa music playing in the background, he couldn't think of a better break from reality.

"Joshie ~ " you whined softly, "I can't pick. I don't know what any of this means..... and even the descriptions are in - well what I'm guessing is Spanish. I mean what the fuck is a Valduero, for goodness sake?!"

Joshua's laugh was tender and twinkling, an open palm reaching forward to offer help. You handed the menu to him with a huff.

"do you trust me, love? to pick for you" he mumbled, gracing himself with the menu options once more.

"of course?" you answered with a question, unsure why that would ever be a problem.

he nodded tapping at your foot.

"Our daughter has got your frown, you know. it's cute. the same brows you use when you're concentrating. I'm so lucky to have you two. and have i mentioned those eyes -"

"Joshua. hong. stop it." you whisper-yelled firmly, not missing the snort of your husband behind the menu.

eventually, he chose for you. a bottle between the two of you left no room for sour moods as you chatted late into the night. still suffering from slight sickness, you allowed Joshua to steal most of the tapas from the two towers of three, sat snug on your quaint little table.

it was nice. no crying infant present, and no one stealing either person's attention. the Spanish music was pleasant and mind-numbing. the air was warm, but not muggy. Joshua's phone was even turned off; this marked a special occasion indeed, as his business duties plagued him greatly.

and the whole time his heart filled eyes were only set on you.

"Love - is it time to go?"

you perked up at the sound of Joshua's voice, pursing your lips to interrupt yet another yawn. it escaped though, stretching out the makeup on your face that you had forgotten the feeling of.

he had watched you with reverence as your shoulders had relaxed into a familiar curve - superlatively wine drunk, with flushed cheeks and tired eyes - your chin perched upon your palm as Joshua shuffled forward to tuck some hair behind your ears.

you stumbled into a nod, apologising shyly at your lack of energy.

Joshua chose not to comment, instead offering an arm as you stood.

your time as a new mum had been plagued with sleepless nights and a girl that refused to sleep without one parent present. she wasn't ready to be separated - not just yet.

wisdom in years had blossomed you from a young girl into a woman; his woman, tender and fierce. usually, you were too headstrong to take the offer, but you took his arm graciously.

hooking an arm as he used his apple watch to pay the bill - "swish bitch" you had drunkenly giggled against his cheek - followed by a chaste kiss - once past the wide glass doors and out into the open air, earning you a playful hip tap and a sickly sweet smile.

"uh-oh," you hiccuped, clinging to your lover as you descended down the exit of the restaurant - too floral and beautiful for its own good.

"it's all gone to my head, Joshie... fuck... hold on a second..."

closing your eyes to stop the swirling between your ears, your husband chuckled, stepping to the stair below you and pulling your body against his. humming patiently as he pressed an open kiss to your collar bone and a biting one to the crook of your neck. you giggled like a young girl, tumbling down a step with him as you held onto his broad shoulders.

"come on you -" he grunted softly as he swept his (far too adonis looking) forearms under the crease of your thigh, smiling as you kicked your legs and very secure ankle strapped heels in pure glee. he didn't care about the looks you both could possibly get; you were the most priceless thing in his little world.

once at the bottom of the stairs, he let your feet touch the floor before releasing you from the warmth of his chest.

in the taxi, Joshua kept your colder hands in his, running his thumb over your knuckles as you drifted asleep on his arm. the other arm snug against your hip to keep you to his body.

"was the wine good? did I pick a good one?" he questioned.

you swivelled your head to look up at him - nodding softly at his crescented eyes.

"say thanks to the babysitter for me~" you sang into his shoulder before letting out a heavy yawn that stretched out your whole torso.

Joshua beamed, brushing the hair from your forehead before kissing the bones of your knuckles in the other hand.

"anything for you, my love. sleep well."

i wrote this in 20 mins peace and love pahaha // hope it was okie <33

well would you look at that: last updated 20/FEBRUARY/2022

[clemkesh]

Elevator Post 2.0.

*Taps mic*

Hello friends. Sangfielle has ended, and you know what that means. The moment you’ve all been waiting for. It’s time for a follow up to my original post (here) that sought to answer that age old question: if you put all of the Friends at the Table players’ squads of pcs in an elevator together for 24 hours, how likely is it that someone gets murdered?

Murder Free: Janine’s Squad (Adaire, Signet, Thisbe, Es) There’s no one in this elevator who actively enjoys murder, is a magnet for horrors unimaginable, or deeply radiates murderability. Right away that puts us miles ahead of most other squads. I know in my heart that Signet and Thisbe would be besties, and I think that Adaire and Es could bond over their shared hobby of taking objects. We’ve seen from the room service incident that Es is an absolute master of spending 24 hrs trapped inside and I think she could really bring those immaculate vibes to this elevator. Maybe Adaire could find a way to smuggle in some pastries for them. They’d have a great time chillin’ and I just don’t see this escalating to murder. Other crimes are still on the table. Murder Odds: 0/10 Pls invite me to this gossipy sleepover

Probably No Murder?: Ali’s Squad (Hella, Aria, Castille, Tender, Broun, Marn) The real concern in this elevator is, of course, Hella Veral. Homegirl is a “destroy what you don’t understand” enthusiast. However, I think with the addition of Marn, cooler heads would probably prevail, and there might be enough reasonable people in here to stop anyone who tried to pull some shit. There’s not even really an obvious murder target for Hella to go for. Broun is great at saying things that piss people off, so maybe them, but Hella fuckin loves Adaire and I think Broun has some Adaire-esque vibes, so maybe they would get along great. I also stand by my take that Aria and Tender would end up making out. That could make things uncomfortable, or everyone might wanna get down. Murder odds: 2/10, Orgy odds: 1/10. Multiple slim but exciting possibilities on the table here

Slightly Non-Murder Leaning: Sylvia’s Squad (Ephrim, Aubrey, Echo, Millie, Virtue, Hazard) I’m most worried about some goth on goth violence here. Virtue loves using people. Millie hates being used. I can see Virtue giving an elevator pitch (heh) about the wonders of becoming her vampire thrall and Millie responding with a murder. However, to Millie’s credit, she put up with Clem for way longer than 24 hours, so it might all turn out alright. Instead, maybe this whole elevator could bond together over what’s truly important: their immaculate fashion sense. I mean honestly. Look at this fuckin squad. Runway ready each and every one of them and yes I am including Aubrey. I love and respect lesbian eclectic fashion and so should you. Murder odds 4/10 Wait. If Virtue dies does that even count as a murder? Can you be murdered twice? 

????: Dre’s Squad (Throndir, Sige, Even, Valence, The Figure in Bismuth, Chine) Chine is gonna do something strange and someone is coming out of this elevator changed. Whether that change is going from alive to dead or not is between Dre and people who understand the Course’s whole deal better than I do. I can also see a bunch of people pulling a Lyke and trying to stop Chine from doing weird shit if they give it a go- and Chine would probably let them, though that compliance might throw people off. Murder odds: 5/10 What a weirdo (affectionate) 

Absolute Chaos: Keith's Squad (Fero, Mako, Gig, Leap, Phrygian, Lyke) The physics simulator in my mind is not equipped to figure out what happens if you show a wholetaur to someone who is “inky and billowing.” Would an OSHA vlogger and a reverse-cyborg pirate get along? What would the ravening beast do when faced with a light blue twink on a hoverboard with his nips out? Philosophers will surely be debating these great queries for centuries to come. I can’t tell you who would do the murder here or who would be the victim. I just know that when you put this many variables in an enclosed space for 24 hours, the odds of something going awry are pretty high, and this squad is full of disaster magnets. They might also get along famously, though. Could be the start of something beautiful. Murder odds: 6/10 Idk but I’m getting a headache thinking about it

Oh Yeah. Almost Definitely A Murder: Jack’s Squad (Lem, AuDy, Hitchcock, Fourteen, Clementine, Kalar, Pickman) Pickman got Dayward’s ass and she’d get Clem’s, too. What is an elevator if not a vertical train? Or, now that Clem’s leveled up into the Witch in Glass, maybe she would strike down the Hitchcocks for trying to pickpocket her. Or, hell, I can see Lem getting got by a robogod with a shotgun arm. Infinite possibilities! Most of them ending in death. Murder Odds: 14/15 ;)

Murder 100% Guaranteed: Art’s Squad (Hadrian, Cass, Grand, SI, Duvall) Duvall’s presence changes nothing. Grand Magnificent is still the most murderable PC in F@TT history, and yes, I’m counting the PCs that have actually been murdered. He wears the ephemeral idea of a leather duster. He says the phrase “quaint colonialists.” He’d sell NFTs. His name is Grand Magnificent. Someone in this elevator would kill that guy. Probably Cass. And, if they didn’t, I would personally bestow upon them a Nobel Peace Prize, on Valence’s behalf (I’m so funny), for their epic feat of restraint. Murder Odds: 10/10 Public service tbh

[dare-g]

My Tender and Affectionate Beast (1978)

[thesoulesscollection]

Cotton Tail

Hybrid au request - Everyone in the stickmin universe is a human/animal hybrid. Can be any character and or romantic pairings. Any genre is fine

Now this is based and inspired from the post by bluebutlikenotalways. It may not be exactly like you wanted but kinda??

This one took me so long to do (like all my projects, requests, and so forth) and I'm sorry for that one. But here's a one shot from an old-ish Au I had that features one of my fav ships

Tw/Tags: Biting, Minor Blood. Mostly affectionate fluff here. 

"You're sure testing your limits here, lil' bun" 

"I know" As a cute, very fluffy and allegedly delicate bunny like Ellie, she was testing at the limits she can do with an imposing tiger like her boyfriend. 

"Keep it up or I'll do something" 

"Sure you will, big guy" She chuckles, calling out the tiger's bluff, leaning her squishy hip against the door. "Gonna keep looking or what? You like what you see?" 

Intimidated, face heating up to excruciating levels Right thickly gulps the growl stuck in his throat, "You do" 

On the balls of her feet, practically hopping in excitement, light reddish brown fur stands on edge, she openly smirks, head tilted to bare her neck. 

"I know. Like I said, baby. Whatcha gonna do about it then? Where did my big, bad beast go?" She grins, devious, knowing her words will impact the other. Which it did, he stomps over, cornering her with a deep frown playing on his scrunched face. "I can't see him. All I see is a quivering cub. If that's the case, do you want me to get your papa then?" With his face twitching, he postures like the wounded beast he truly is, towering over the tiny rabbit, she can't help it to enjoy the spectacular view from her angle. The huge size difference had her squirming, smug grin turned goofy. 

"Still here, bun" Stiffly watching the tiger, Ellie waits for what he's planning for her. "I won't leave you even when you get on my nerves sometimes" In a quick swoop she's picked up by the scruff with one large hand, careful to not hurt her while the other on her thigh secures the hold. 

"Hey?! Watch it!" A gasping squeak later, the sudden action startling Ellie until his low rumbling purring settles her down. 

"Cool it. You're safe" His damp breath hits the nape of her neck. His elongated canines are lightly grazing across the tender flush under the furr. Tense muscles didn't let up though but she's keen at the lovingly doting, almost hungry attention. "Relax. You asked for this" He gently reprimanded. A soft nip on the spot between her neck and shoulders finally got her to ease up.  

"Maybe I did… But I'm fragile bun bun. You have to be careful" Lightheartedly joking she bites at her bottom lip, restraining the urge to rut when her short tail is pulled on. 

"More than that, cottontail. We know that you're feisty" 

She laughed, loud enough to bounce off the wall. It was true after all she might be a 'prey' who a lot would normally overlook due to her adorable appearance. Yet she's determined to prove it otherwise, she was a ball of hot fury. Like always a bloody fist fight with her already high strung emotions meets her at the top of the steepest horizons. Again she dares to cross the line once more in order to get under her tiger's allegedly thick skin. 

"Yeah? What are you going to do to me then?" 

In retaliation, he bit down on her neck, the sensitive glands. Hard. Thankfully, it's not enough to kill her. Just a deep, colorful mark that'll last for days, weeks even if either one is lucky. Clearly a sign of possessiveness, to show who you belonged to, Ellie mused, her eyes twinkling from unshed tears. 

"S-shi-!" She held the curse back. 

Spiked tongue tentatively licks up at the wound, Right soon pulls away with a wide, sharp toothed grin, likely proud in the action. 

"Need to bite me that deep?" Right shrugs nonchalantly. "Okay… Heh, maybe I did ask for it. A little" He buried his face deep into her soft fluff, another purring escaped his throat, turning to a satisfied cat. 

"Hm… You're so fluffy" He compliments. 

Ellie preens in return, "Thank you" 

[danddymaro]

Tender | Bloodhound x Fem reader

I’m a slut, I’ve got three loves. Bloodhound, Mirage and Rev. So, here’s a thingie booper for this precious little tracker.

Reader is female// Mentions of pregnancy.

Fluff, hardly any smut but still a little nsfw

A quick Drabble that went a little too long. Maybe later I will redo this into something that makes sense and has plot.

Translations :

Líf mitt  =  My Life  Ástin mín  = My Love Elskan = My darling Blóðhundur = BloodHound

Word Count: 1127

Tender

Every word from the beast of prey was a soft utter, their voice while still muffled by the mask at times, not losing any of its softness as it reaches the (h/c) haired woman. 

Sprawled beneath with eyes shut in bliss, she holds in a quiet breath whilst the respirator is disregarded, it being a nuisance during such a cherished moment. 

Skin is always met with skin and there is nothing in between, and if such a barrier comes, it never lasts.

It is the hunter’s rule, all to her delight.

A sweet endearment makes her heart flutter, and she releases an airy giggle right as the words reach her in between light nibbles that trail from her ear down to her navel.

She smiled as every featherlight graze of her dear’s lips tickles when they pass certain spots far too delicate to withstand the stimulation.

“ Blóð ..” she sweetly giggles as their lips land over a dreadfully ticklish spot. 

Their travel pauses for a second, and she can feel their lips stretch as a gentle smile is executed.

“Ticklish?” Bloodhound asks almost innocently, the feigned tone holding far too much cheekiness for her to believe. Again, the act is repeated and she squirms within firmly placed hands that hold down her hips.

A warm chuckle leaves the teasing aggressor before they relent, their lips moving again with desire instead, traveling further down to her soft, wetness.

“Is this spot sensitive too?” Bloodhound asks coyly.

A gasp leaves her at the first quick swipe of the tongue which jolts the rest of her body. 

Immediately her hands move towards long locks. 

She start at the ends that had fallen onto her flesh, and she then weaves her hands through to find her lover’s scalp. She pulls them close as her hips buck forward, shamelessly riding the pointed tongue that flickers and curls within her.

She's then angled as her legs are carried by strong shoulders, the sinful wet muscle that is driven within her and pleasing her enticing a voiceless cry from her.

She can hardly help herself from continuing to wiggle her hips, nor can she stop the involuntary shivers her body executes.

Never does it cease to amaze her that such a predator, so merciless to the point of it being bestial, could speak so tenderly as though every breath uttered carried the promise of a kiss that would reach her.

Proclamations of love were never forgotten, the affectionate praising yet another constant to their intimate moments.

She couldn't imagine Bloodhound any more tender, but when a second heartbeat echoed within her, she was witness to yet another level of adoration that was only a hairstrand short of being worshipping.

" Ástin mín, " Bloodhound said, all in that lovingly sweet tone that translated burning desire, even as she felt at her lowest. 

- Even when she'd felt disgusted with what her body had become.

"You have never been more beautiful, " They breathed, their hands molding every curve of her body, grasping at all of the new softness and swelling that came to her chest as well as every other bit that had become more shapely.

The roughened palms could hardly stay still in one spot, instead, moving with the plan of exploration as they excitedly touched her.

- Truly, there was nothing more alluring than their lover claimed, all for them.

 " Líf mitt..." Bloodhound added, sounding utterly strained as they repositioned themselves, their hips soon pressed to hers, earning a soft moan from the female.

Hot was their breath against her skin as words were muttered in their native tongue, each syllable pushed out with difficulty .

'...swollen with min child,’ They inwardly mused with eyes that twinkled in delight, ‘bearing my every child.' 

Just the thought alone was euphoric.

Bloodhound  literally pants as their hands run down her sides, knowing the changes that had come with her state and absolutely adoring them as they are seen and much more felt. 

"Elskan... I cannot wait any longer," they say, truly regretful, almost ashamed at how little they'd been able to control themselves from simply giving in already.

She doesn’t mind, and with a shuddered breath she slowly takes all of her lover, every inch of the thick length sheathed within her melting warmth.

 Her dear lover holds her tenderly, strong arms almost crossing behind her as she is embraced. 

During the heated act she's held, cherished, and even worshiped, and it is addictive.

She shivers in powerful arms out of simple delight and pleasure, and her own terms of endearment slip out, all breathy and needy.

Every second is utter bliss for her body and for her soul too.

“-  Ástin,” she says sweetly, the word whispered in Bloodhound’s ear, spoken almost shyly as she tries a language that is not hers. Little by little she understands and learns, and it becomes her own address to her darling during such moments.

The word alone is nearly enough to break the hunter of what little resistance they have left to last.

“My Blóðhundur,” She adds just as sweetly.

More kisses follow before a final lip lock that is a fierce, wet press is timed with a final thrust forward.

After, she still wonders how they find her so beautiful, how she can be so cherished even whilst she’s an undone mess beneath. 

Bloodhound  practically glows in sweat, every dip of their body graceful and to perfection, The allure that they have is inexplicable.

Even while covered head to toe, with not a patch of skin visible, they are irresistible.

She had yet to consider that within their mind, Bloodhound thinks the same. 

They sit and stare with awe, and they are so terribly in love that they cannot see anything else aside from her, the perfection that she is far to great to take for granted. 

A hand lands on the side of her face, and sweetly it strokes her cheek while half-lidded eyes look down at her with desire that still lingers within their owner.

“You are...irresistible,” Bloodhound mutters.

Her name is said, the soft slur dripping from lips that are slickened by a tongue that peeks out to swipe over the sudden dryness.

“Let me take you once more...” Bloodhound murmurs as they lean down for another kiss that makes a path to her ear, “ (f/n)...” they practically purr. 

“I want more of you...” they sultry beg and her stomach becomes a knotted mess as her heart swells because of how hungrily she’s stared at. 

She feels sexy and irresistible, and the previous thoughts of self loathing she’d had constantly visit her go forgotten.

“- I need more of you,” They add, and she needily waits for more of that tenderness that only her dear Bloodhound can give her.

A/N: This went from 120 to 730 to 1127.

[shehili]

SHURIMAN GLOSSARY

Phrases I intend to use in RP, sorted by origin.

SHURIMAN • source is @voidsought on Tumblr & the official companion book which I own.

MISCELLANEOUS water and shade to you – universal greeting; binsikhi – little explorer, daughter (possibly); bibi – grandmother; Maza – respected elderly woman (possibly); echnebi – foreigners, a group of people (possibly); (the) Great Sai – a grand desert separating north from south; Sai Faraj – desert region in southern Shurima, located west of the Sun Disc; Sai Kahleek – desert region in southern Shurima, located east of the Sun Disc, called "the Bone Sea" in northern dialects; shayatin – the Beasts of the Last Infinity i.e. the Voidborn. Also referred to as "outerbeasts" by Shurimans.

TITLES Hagyett Sadja of Nashramae; Hagya Ta'Fik of Tereshni; Hagyos Valif & Hazir Ima'Sai of Bel'zhun. NOTE: I don't have the lorebook on me right now, but IIRC Valif & Ima'Sai were co-rulers. Distinction is unclear.

ANCIENT EGYPTIAN • in-verse, these all originate from Ancient Shuriman and occur in all dialects. Take it and everything else down below with a grain of salt.

COMMON WORDS nek – swearword in the spirit of "shit" or "fuck"; neket iadet – piece of shit; sen – brother (affectionate nickname for one's companion); seni – my brother (possibly); senet – sister; ??? – my sister. likely "seneti"; khered – child; mes-en – born of; hereret – flower; felucca – small boat; stela – stone slab bearing inscriptions or paintings; where? – tjen?

COMMANDS shem – go; ab – stop; mesneh – turn backwards, reverse; kheti – retreat; wesef – be idle; hi-i or hi'i – strike, beat; seseh – smash, destroy; seki – perish, destroy; aha – stand, arise; sheni – surround; mes – bring (imperative).

TITLES sefetjew, seftew – butcher; tepey (m, n), tepet (f) – chief, head; seshem – lead, guide; neb – sir, also used when the addressee's gender is unknown; nebet – lady; Nebetah – lady of the palace/house; Henuttaneb – mistress of all lands. Used for the empress, nowadays attached to Mariam mostly by highborn sycophants. Va-Nox terms are used to denote military rank in so far as northern dialects are concerned.

MISC • in-verse, these belong to the tribes that have populated Shurima's northern banks since before the empire's fall. Phrases marked with * are shared between all northern tribes. Unmarked entries are specific to the Tereshan dialect.

Teresh, -an*; Bel'zhun, -ite*; Urzeris, -rite*; Void take you – Mariam's invention and her favorite curseword; sheeplover – swearword, substitute the animal as needed; aslema – hello; bislema – goodbye; marhaba* – welcome; shokran* – thank you; yaishek – a tenderer way of expressing thanks ("life to you"); azizty – dear one; hbibty – my love (can be platonic; alternatively: habibi* or habibti*); hobi – my love (romantic; alternatively: hubbi* or hubbee*); sokar* – sugar, used for children.

ARABIC HEART-MELTERS • pure self-indulgence.

NOTE: placing "habib" in front results in love of my… albi* – my heart; hayati* – my life; rouhi* – my soul; wahashtini* – I miss you.