#a rascal

[smoosie]

(Which arm, Viktor, huh ? Which one ??)

They were not a couple so, Jayce (who had a very bad day and just wanted to hug it out) proceeded to freak out, backed out of the lab and never mentioned it again but, Astral Viktor, that mf ? He'd be delighted to remind Jayce of that moment in time, of that missed call and watch him die from embarrassment and resentment over himself

(I'm glad they've never beaten the gay allegations and never will)

[marxist-amy-rose]

Ahhh hell yeah, I'm adding this to the pinned.

[sajwho-art]

[squatchathor]

Odysseus: “Then I’ll become the monster” 😔

The 43 Bois: “YASS KING YASS HE IS THE MAN-MADE MONSTER” 🗣 🗣 🗣

Odysseus: does something monstrous

The 37 bois: 👁👄👁

[falsetto-pitch]

-chibi doodle of an old oc of mine~ Harpy boi~

He’s old enough to not even have a name. How cruel of me after all these years

[gustaving]

“Oh Rascal Children of Gaza,” by Palestinian poet, Khaled Juma, 2014

[ashyblondwaves]

Haymitch often referred to himself as a rascal during his games, but the actual rascal was by and large, Peeta “because she came here with me/if it weren’t for the baby” Mellark. And I think Haymitch really appreciated that and loved that about Peeta.

[saywhat-politics]

Artists Performing At Trump Inauguration Events

[xh444]

this spoke to me

[doesephs]

one last kevjean before the ship sinks forever

[head---ache]

Went in just wanting to draw a character I haven't drawn in a while. Came out with a rare ship in my hands.

[heartfullofleeches]

Bring your pet to work day, but it's the ten foot tall bunny monster man in a gimp mask thinking he qualifies

-

"I don't think it's a good idea, Rascal."

The rabbit desperately points at the sparkly collar strapped around its neck, claws tickling the tag bodly presenting its name.

"Just because you see yourself as my pet doesn't mean my coworkers will do the same. You're more man than you are rabbit.

Its teeth click in a guttural hiss- mewls akin to a heartbroken wail following suit as they brush their nose against your cheek. He coos, the zipper of his mask drawn as they lap at your skin. Its tongue is like sandpaper.

"Acting cute isn't going to save you this time. The ceilings at my job are pretty low as is. Plus, I'm pretty sure all the pets are required to be able to fit in a cage."

The rabbit bashfully kicks at the floorboards, a web of drool trickling down his mask. He seems pleased with that idea.

"I'm not putting you in a cage, Rascal."

Just how many times do you plan on breaking their heart today?

[uzurakis]

nagumo had one hand on the wheel, fingers tapping lazily against it, while the other, warm and ever-present, rested on your thigh. casual, like it belonged there. like it always did. just the weight of his hand, warm and unmoving, like it had landed there absentmindedly. you had glanced at him at first, expecting him to move it, but nagumo had simply grinned, eyes still on the road, and left it right where it was.

minutes passed.

his fingers, previously still, began to shift ever so slightly. a slow, lazy drag of his thumb along the fabric covering your skin. nothing overt. nothing that could be called out without sounding ridiculous.

“nagumo.”

“mm?” his tone was light, almost distracted, but that damn grin was still there.

". . . both hands on the wheel.”

“i told you, i don’t need both hands,” the guy mused, tapping the steering wheel with two fingers. “i’m a professional.”

“professional menace, maybe.”

nagumo chuckled, and that was when his fingers dipped lower between your thighs.

he chuckled, tilting his head in that lazy, almost careless way. “i'm driving and keeping you in check. you get fidgety, you know?”

“maybe because your hand is in places it shouldn’t be,” you shot back.

“mm. . disagree.” his thumb absentmindedly traced a small circle against your leg. “i think it’s exactly where it should be.”

you rolled your eyes, but you didn’t move his hand. not that you ever did. not that he’d let you.

[paperback-rascal]

I need a story in which Padme and Clone Force 99 go on a mission together!

---

see more posts about Padme working with Clone Force 99 here -> [LINK] <-

My fanart masterlist -> [LINK] <-

===

STAR WARS: The Clone Wars/The Bad Batch © George Lucas/ Dave Filoni/ LucasFilm/ Disney

[dailyfigures]

Hatsune Miku ; Vocaloid ☆ FuRyu

[oopsiedaisydeer]

cover your ass in flour and knead it

smut, flour play, ass appreciation, manhandling, marking, chris is a menace <3

word count - 500ish

Dolly just wanted to bake something sweet.

She’d put up her hair, tied it off with a pink ribbon, and rolled up her sleeves with the kind of quiet focus she always had when it was time for a midnight snack. There was flour on her cheek, her favorite playlist humming low in the background, and a mixing bowl waiting patiently for butter and sugar.

But then Chris wandered in, shirtless, a bruise already forming on his ribs from God knows what, grinning sleepily like he already knew he was going to ruin her plans.

Now she’s bent over the counter, legs barely stable beneath her, the hoodie she stole from him hiked up around her hips. There’s flour on her thighs, and Chris’s hands are very much not where they’re supposed to be.

“Chris,” she breathes, trying to sound annoyed. It comes out whiny. “I was gonna bake…”

He squeezes a handful of her ass, pulling and bunching the skin. “So bake.”

She swats at his shoulder. “I meant, like, banana bread. Not–”

“Cover your ass in flour and knead it,” he mutters, low and amused, eyes glinting. “Same thing, really.”

He palms her ass with both hands, kneads her like she’s dough and he’s starving. His fingers dig in deep, spreading her open a little, thumbs pressing bruises into the softest parts of her as if he’s shaping something with real care.

Then he grabs the bag of flour left carelessly beside her and with absolutely no shame, scoops a handful, dusting her like she’s a damn countertop. White powder clings to the curve of her, fine and soft, and he hums like he’s impressed with his own work.

“Gotta flour the dough before you knead it, right?”

Dolly squirms, half-laughing, half-melting, her elbow braced against the cabinet next to them. “You’re such a freak.”

Chris leans in, presses his mouth to her neck. “You love it.”

And then he really gets to work.

Big, warm hands spread over her hips, greedy and rough, fingers digging into her like he’s trying to mold her. He squeezes, palms full of flour and her, thumbs pressing into the crease where thigh meets ass, spreading her just slightly, enough to make her whimper and hide her face in her hands.

He laughs low and filthy, voice honeyed with mischief. “Aw, don’t go shy on me now, Dolly.”

She’s blushing, she knows it, heat blooming across her cheeks and chest, her plait unravelling with every breathless squirm. But Chris just leans in, nose brushing the small of her back, dragging his mouth down until his lips hover right above that flour-dusted curve.

“Might need a taste,” he mutters, breath hot, hands keeping her still. “Just to make sure you’re sweet enough.”

And then he bites. Just a graze, just enough to make her yelp, hands flying back to grab at his hair like she doesn’t desperately want him between her thighs.

He presses her forward a little, hips pinned to the counter, one hand slipping between her legs with a lazy confidence like he’s got all the time in the world. Like banana bread never existed.

“Say the word, Dolly,” he murmurs against her skin. “And I’ll eat you right here.”

a/n: i hope you guys like this sdhbfjdsb!! and also this au is open to requests btw <3

ib: this text post from @sweetshuga which i've been thinking about for months and also this p!link 😊

thanks for reading!!!!!!!! likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

dividers by @enchanthings ꨄ