incubito

[incubito]

Frank doesn't respond to that. If Peter actually cared about protecting New York he would put his villains down, but he was too soft. Frank didn't have a rogue's gallery like Spider-man did, because he had pumped them full of lead. If Peter used that raw strength he could easily decimate his foes, but instead he allowed them to live, and nearly kill him. The kid was lucky Frank had been passing through when he had, or he woulda been a very dead spidey. But there was no getting through to Peter. He had a heart of gold, and a concerning amount of empathy.

"You flirting with me, Pete?" He teases, knowing the very notion would throw Peter off. "Figured if we ever did any flirting, I'd make the first move." He chomps down on a piece of bacon, "Since you're a pussy n' all." More relentless jabbering. Frank enjoyed having somebody else in the apartment. It reminded him of when his own family filled up his old home with the sound of life. So often it was just Frank, the television, and an endless chorus of weaponry being cleaned. Peter's incissent jabber was a nice change of place, one that Frank now welcomed happily.

He dabs at his beard with a napkin before balling it up and tossing it at Peter. "Look, kid. I'm just trying to watch yer ass since you've done a pretty lousy job at it." Frank says bluntly, leaning back in his chair so he can cross his arms over his chest. "Fighting crime is tough. Doing it all on your own is even harder. So, shut up. Accept my help. Or don't. It don't matter to me. If you wanna be ungrateful, that's fine." Frank gestures with his chin out of the kitchen, "There's the door, kid." There's no twinkle in his eye, letting Pete know that Frank was very serious. He was too old and embittered for games like this.

"And you don't talk enough and shoot way too much Frank, we've all got our flaws" Peter retorted, feeling more than little quippy and snarky considering everything. Of course he was grateful for Frank's help and assist, but sometimes it felt like the guy treated him like some kind of fragile bird that needed constant protecting. The man would probably put him in a giant bird cage if he could and throw away the key if he could.

"Don't tempt me, you know I could throw you into this wall if I wanted right - what's to stop me from reaching there?" He countered, as if defending his abilities. Even if the smirk on the man's face and the challenge in his eyes had Peter's cheeks flushing for Frank's enjoyment. "What are you my caretaker? Maybe a bagel or two is all Spidey needs to face the day" Peter argued, even if they both knew it most definitely was not. Though Peter had to admit this more...domestic side of the man was surprising. Talking about having enough food and space for others, since when did the Punisher want company over at his place.

"Okay, you make me sound like a lost puppy following you for treats and food scraps. I haven't had enough of your food to know if it's worthy of coming back for. Besides, you say that like you want me to keep coming back."

[incubito]

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Caleb shouldn't have even joked about that. Glamour was already an established cat burglar before joining Pandora, and had passed down their skills to Flux. It was how Glamour sustained them, and Caleb had made it seem so filthy. His face was burning hot with shame, and made worse by Max's reaction. There was still plenty of time to salvage this 'date' before it turned sour. "My bad, chico." He quickly moves to sit beside Max, sitting so close to him that their thighs were touching. That tiny gesture was strange to Caleb who could reduce a grown man to ash if necessary.

Caleb focuses all of his available attention on where their thighs met. He had spent so much time avoiding something like this, that it was now throwing him for a loop. The compliment snaps him back into the present, and forces a smile upon his face. It's a goofy smile that is quickly interrupted by a chuckle that bubbles past his lips. "Am I?" He reaches for the nape of his black hair, rubbing at it shyly. "Gracias, chico. I think you're pretty, too. Always have." He admits, emboldened by the other and his flirting. "Too bad I can't look like this always. It'd make things like going on dates a lot easier. Not a lot of guys are interested in dating somebody that burns molten hot."

Max's brows knit together in frustration as the other agent joined him. He puffed air into his cheeks expanding them before blowing it out in a huff. Frustration clearly written on his face. "Judgmental much? So what if I am? You don't need to be sarcastic about it." That wasn't why he was frustrated, he was frustrated that Caleb had decided to sit across from him rather than next to him instead. Why wouldn't Caleb want to sit next to him? He was perfectly adorable and sitting next to him like a real date would have been an honor. "You picked the wrong seat." he said curtly as he went back to savagely stabbing at his food and pushing it into his mouth. His head jerking to gesture to the chair right NEXT to him.

Max had caught Caleb staring at him before and he couldn't blame the other for staring at him. Max was worth staring at. Still it didn't seem to matter how much he flirted and hot on him Caleb never actually got the hint. Or was tempted enough to break the rules perhaps. Both disheartening to the curly haired twink.

"I like this version of you. It's pretty. You're pretty."

[incubito]

Patrick Schwarzenegger in The White Lotus

3.07 "Killer Instincts"

[incubito]

"No." Glamour quickly corrects his son. "It's something small. Something that will remind me of you every single time I see it." Motherhood had softened Glamour, making him slightly less materialistic as he aged and as Max grew older. He found that spending time with his son mattered more than jewels. Twenty years ago he would have been mortified at the thought. So much had changed, but Glamour was still donning ridiculous outfits to pull off stupidly complicated plants. He was comforted by the thought. Now he had his very own partner in crime, and he had helped create him. Glamour couldn't have been more proud.

Glamour looked downright sinful in the priest's habit he had chosen for himself. Just like everything else he wore, it was two sizes too small. It emphasized his curves in all the right places, showing off his large chest, small waist, and wide hips. Glamour completed the outfit with a golden cross that bounced between his now sanctified chest. He brightens up visibly when he finally sees Max all done up in his disguise. "My babyyy!" Glamour catches his son in his arms, squeezing him tight against his buxom figure. His arms quickly go slack when the boy speaks. "Please. Wait until after the mission before indulging yourself." Glamour takes a step back, smoothing over the curls that covered Max's head. "Do I?" Glamour strikes a pose, "This is the most I've worn in a long long time." He glances down at his ample chest, "Though sometimes it's nice to something to the imagination. Forbidden fruit can be the most tempting." He muses, already imagining all of the sexually repressed men he was going to convert under his careful tutelage. Too bad he was only going to be in this get up for a few more hours. Glamour moves back toward the door they had come through, opening it up for Max. "Are you ready, my darling?"

"Oh funny. A magnet from your magnetic manipulating son." Max laughed at him stealing such a trifle of a trinket but of course he would do it. It was was child's play. Less than for Max and the skills honed by his mother and his years as a spy now. He would get the best magnet there, or an excessive amount of them he didn't know which one just yet.

As he moved into the unoccupied room so he could change he looked around, sifting through drawers and cabinets, a force of habit, finding a small key ring and a rosary he picketed them both into the Altar boy robes he was wearing now, Thankful whoever had owned these before they took them had sewn pockets into the inside. He looked at himself in the mirror practicing his sweet innocent faces for a moment before slipping back into the hallway. His own things tucked away in a vent so he could retrieve them later.

"You know I was tempted to not put on underwear under these, but that felt a little too on the nose you know?" he said with a little laugh as he saw his mother in the black habit. "You look so silly Mom."

[incubito]

Michael Cimino and Nico Greetham in Love, Victor

[incubito]

PEDRO PASCAL ‘The Fantastic Four: First Steps’ launch event, Sydney July 15, 2025

[incubito]

THE MORNING AFTER PROMPTS. a collection of memes derived from the morning after trope, for roleplaying purposes. feel free to edit as you see fit. do not steal (18+). send (reverse) along with any action prompts to swap the assigned roles.

i'm surprised that you stayed.

would you believe me if i said that i don't normally do this?

last night was incredible. i especially liked it when you did the thing.

how long have you been awake?

don't move. i'm comfortable.

what would you say to some breakfast?

i should really go.

i like waking up next to you.

you know, i could go another round. or three.

you look cute first thing in the morning.

i don't think i'm gonna be able to walk today.

what time is it?

i don't think i caught your name.

stop moving.

you talk in your sleep.

you have to leave, right now.

how did my shirt get there?

i'm trying so hard not to kiss you right now.

shut up, i'm trying to sleep.

your feet are cold.

i was worried last night had been a dream.

wanna order food and spoon for a while?

i thought you'd left.

come back to bed.

i didn't want to disturb you.

your phone was ringing.

last night didn't mean anything. you know that, right?

i've been waiting so long for this.

i love you.

kiss. for sender's muse to waken receiver's muse up with a kiss.

spoon. for sender's muse to pull receiver's muse flush against them, spooning them.

breakfast. for sender's muse to bring receiver's muse breakfast in bed.

morning. for our muses to have sleepy, morning sex.

shower. for our muses to shower together.

bathe. for our muses to bathe together.

kitchen. for our muses to prepare breakfast together.

trace. for sender's muse to trace the marks they left on receiver's body.

watch. for sender's muse to just silently watch the receiver's muse as they sleep.

display. for sender's muse to watch as receiver's muse begins to get dressed.

pin. for sender's muse to stop the receiver's muse from leaving the bed.

mouth. for sender's muse to initiate sleepy oral sex on receiver's muse.

[incubito]

[very clearly enamored AND elated] He fucking bit me.

[incubito]

leo.suter: #oneononetime

[incubito]

Also, presidents party child who has been assigned a new secret service bodyguard. He has no idea what he’s in for or the trouble they attract. They have a problem with the word ‘no’ and he likes to say it a lot.

[incubito]

@arkhospheleteon

sanctuary gasps. he has little time to process killshot's hand on his waist or the sudden slap to his ass before being guided through the apartment. "I've got a pretty good idea..." sanctuary mumbles, rubbing at his bottom. inside of killshot's bedroom, the angel can't help but smile when the man locks his bedroom door. that was smart. sanctuary would have snuck out of killshot's room and went back to the couch if he hadn't. "you think I'm gonna run away?" sanctuary asks, waiting for the other to return from fetching him a change of clothes.

"you make me sound like a literal giant." his german accent is thick as he looks over the pants offered to him. sanctuary was mindful of his gaze when killshot turns away from him and begins to undress. preferring to sleep shirtless as well, he tugs his own top up and over his head. his jeans follow, along with his socks. sanctuary folds them neatly before setting them down. finally, he tugs the pajama pants up and over his thick thighs. they're a bit snug, but not entirely uncomfortable. he had been in far less around his fellow agents, but it had never felt this personal. sanctuary considered many of his fellow agents attractive, but this was different. he actually felt something for killshot, something he shouldn't have. which is why he was ultimately unable to resist ogling killshot while he changed into his pajamas. sanctuary quickly glances away when the agent is finished, his cheeks flushing with color. "wouldn't dream of it. --but if you want to tell me all about them? I'd be interested." killshot employed a wide variety of arrows, many with special effects. after the day he had, he wanted to cuddle up to killshot while he explained every single one of them. that sounded like heaven.

when sanctuary finally listened to ricky and got up from the couch, the marksman rewarded him with a sharp slap to his right butt cheek. “a pain in the ass? you have no idea,” he said in a playful tone, moving his hand up to the medic’s waist and guiding him towards his bedroom. he wouldn't argue against sleeping on the same bed. always better to have someone else to hold at night.

once he locked the door, he entered the closet and returned with a short-sleeved shirt and two pairs of long pants — one for sanctuary and one for himself. “in case you want to change into something more comfortable. i don't have anything your size. you're a fucking giant. at least the pants stretch.” the material was a soft, breathable fabric. being a hot sleeper, that was his go-to outfit for times when he couldn't go nude.

he turned his back to sanctuary and began to undress, first tugging off his shirt and then bringing his jeans down his ankles. the outline of his ass was perfectly accentuated in his black boxer briefs. he wasn't uncomfortable changing in front of the medic. in atlantis, agents were often seeing other agents naked, so killshot didn't think too much about it. six years had passed and nothing happened between them. why would that change now?

“you’re my guest. this is your temporary home now. you know… until reconstruction is completed,” he shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of this. “just don't touch my arrows or i will kick you out.”

[incubito]

There was no easy way to cope with the death of a loved one. Cregan had endured the loss of his own younger brother, and that of his wife. He had buried his grief beneath tedium and his duties as warden of the north. Only in private did he ever afford himself the grace to sulk. Rickon's nurse maid, Yenna, had helped him through the motions. She was there when Rickon was born, and been there when Arra passed. Cregan hadn't asked her to offer him comfort, but was glad she offered her gentle counsel. Having lost her own husband and children to disease, she was all too familiar with grief. She had been the one to convince Cregan to open himself up to the prospect of love again. Arra's death had convinced him that he would never love again, and that entertaining the prospect would only end in tragedy. Cregan Stark, Fabled Swordsman, and Warden of the North, was ultimately unable to save his beloved wife. He couldn't suffer through that again. That had been before Jacaerys Velaryon arrived in Winterfell atop of a dragon and rife with tragedy. Yenna had gossiped with him, telling Cregan of just how pretty all the women in the castle found him to be. He could agree on that front. Jacaerys had the sort of beauty that poets wrote about. For the first time in two years, Cregan considered the idea of love again. It was purely coincidence that the very first man he had an inkling of romantic interest for was the crown prince of the seven kingdoms. One day he would be king, and would reign far away from Winterfell. This entire ordeal would be a footnote in the long and healthy reign of Jacaerys. Cregan was just happy to be of aid. But he could want more than that, couldn't he? Cregan could provide for Jace. He could keep him safe, nurtured, and satisfied. There was no way for Cregan to determine if Jace was even into men, but he hadn't pushed his hand away, or put distance between them. Jace was so perfect for him. Even when standing at full height, he was downright delicate in comparison to the mighty wolf. His fondness for Jace had been amplified during the hunt, where he had saved Cregan from certain death. His prince was unafraid of taking up the blade if it meant protecting others, and that made Cregan swoon like some young maiden. Jace was the consummate picture of what a prince should be. Yet there was much more, and Cregan had only caught glimpses of it so far. There was an impudence Jace wielded like a knife, one that Cregan was certain could cut through stone.

What he wouldn't give to be on the receiving end of that fearsome tongue. "Tis' a blessing that you were there to save me." He inches himself closer until their thighs are touching, and their faces are inches apart. "However will I repay you?" He had several ideas, all of which were highly inappropriate, but he acted upon the only one he could perform now with certainty. Boldly, he reaches for Jace's face with his free hand, lovingly stroking over a pretty cheekbone with his thumb. He leans forward, kissing where his thumb had been. Cregan kisses him again, this time on the neck. His mouth lingering, allowing his beard to scratch against delicate skin. Cregan leaves a string of kisses in his wake, all blooming with sincerity and warmth. Finally, he turns the prince toward him and kisses him upon the lips.

@incubito continued from X

There has been little rest in the North, though he is luckily . He finds each day is filled with something, for Cregan Stark seems to think it tantamount to keep him entertained throughout his stay. There is always somewhere to go, something to show him. This day? It has been a hunt, and a successful one. A pampered Prince they might have seen before, compared to the rugged and tough exterior of the Northerners, until he had shot the bear down. With ease. It had hardly been a thought. A threat, and then no longer breathing, how easy it had been.

It would have been a disaster, for several reasons, had he not intervened. The celebration had lasted deep into the night, and while the Northman drank their fill, he enjoyed the occasion, the enthusiasm. He was not going to try and keep up, or he might have found himself unconscious hours ago, but that did not mean he was not enjoying himself. He was having probably one of the most thrilling weeks of his life. The freedom of being so far from home, the pride in his achievements, his newfound friendship with Cregan. He was having some of the most exciting days of his life.

"It was nothing. Your men seemed to hesitate. Perhaps they aren't the ones I need to fight for us, if they hesitate to fight even a beast to save their liege Lord." A jest, clearly. The smile on his face is enough of an indicator of that. He is enjoying this - the hunt certainly, alongside the celebration after. Readily, the men of the North seemed to respect him, which was a relief. The dragon might aid in that, though Vermax was still outside the gates of Winterfell whilst they hunted.

Now? It was just the pair of them, sat around the fire, the other men having retreated to their tents, in a drunken stupor for several of them. He was not so far gone, nor even nearly as much as Cregan before him, sat close by the fire. "When I return to Dragonstone, I shall." Which would need to be soon, for war was brewing in the South, and he was a key part of that, given his succession being placed in crisis alongside his mother's. The hand does not go unnoticed, though he chalks it up to the inebriation - nothing more. "It would have been a horrible tale to return home with, that I allowed the Lord of Winterfell to be eaten by a bear."

[incubito]

"You talk too much." That much every single person in New York city could agree upon. Spider-man was made tolerable by his heroic acts, but diminished by just how much he yapped. Only those who had to personally deal with the spider knew that. Peter was best dealt with in short doses or with some ibuprofen in hand. Frank had gotten used to it, and now found the way that Peter could ramble on and on for hours endearing. "Go ahead. Reach into my ass pocket n' grab it." He challenges, eyes sparking with mischief. Peter would never be so bold. Frank resists the urge to smirk when the hero finally joins him at the table. It had taken him long enough, and it had been rude to keep his host waiting.

Frank shakes his head. "One or two bagels ain't enough to get you through the morning." Especially with an enhanced metabolism. The kid probably got hungry all throughout the day and neglected his growling stomach, which wouldn't surprise Frank. Peter was always making sacrifices in the line of duty. "Because I've got a warm bed and free food. That's more than enough for some people." He points out, smiling at the B&B comment. Frank wasn't polite or social enough to tolerate unwanted guests in his home. Peter was an exception, and it was the man's fondness for him that made him special. "Besides, you love my cookin'. It's enough to keep you coming back for more, ain't it?"

It wasn't as if Peter wasn't aware that Frank was a big guy, with the way he was it only made sense. But it was one thing to see a straining bicep every now and then, it was a complete different thing to see just a flimsy tanktop in the way of that powerful body. While Peter was tight and compat and toned, Frank was just...big. It probably made it all the more amusing that Peter was the one out of the two of them that could throw the other through a wall if he wanted.

"Okay first of all, rude. What makes me so not kidnapable?" He huffed, only partly kidding at the response. Feeling that large hand gripping his mask, his brain sort of shortcircuted at first before suddenly it was being dragged off and slid into his pocket. "Hey! First of all, really Frank? Second of all, you think I won't reach in there and grab it?" He retorted - brown doe eyes squinting at the other in challenge. At the command to sit, Peter stood for a few moments as if debating whether or not to listen. Eventually he sat down, but with a huff.

"That's why I usually get a bagel to go before the crime fighting" He pointed out, his own tight upper body muscles flexing and straining a little as he got comfortable at the table. The comment about tomorrow's food surprised him, partly that he was trying to play a good host - secondly that he seemed to be saying that Peter would be staying here multiple days. "What makes you think I'll be here tomorrow? Not only that, are you seriously taking breakfast orders already? I didn't know your dream was to run a B&B Frank."

[incubito]

open starter ! a night at wayne manor starring : bruce wayne && ??? the premise : your muse has been cordially invited to the summer solstice, an annual charity event sponsored by wayne enterprise, and hosted by bruce wayne himself. works of art will be on display before being auctioned off, the proceeds of which will be donated to the less fortunate of gotham city. black tie attire is mandatory. food and drink will be complimentary. we look forward to seeing you there!

for the first time in three hours, bruce wayne was finally alone some time alone. he had spent the entirety of the evening rubbing elbows with gotham's elite, feigning interest while playing his part as a playboy effortlessly. bruce was an excellent actor, and only those closest to him could determine that he was exhausted by this entire affair. but it was for charity, and for a good cause, bruce was willing to suffer.

beneath him neatly arranged rose bushes bristle with a pleasant breeze, carrying their floral scent up and onto the balcony. his mother had always loved roses. bruce had kept the grounds maintained in her honor, and kept vases of the familiar flower throughout his home. bruce peers down and into his glass of dark red wine before lifting it to his lips. he didn't like to drink. bruce was a man that liked to be in control of all of his faculties, but he didn't know if he could face carmine falcone without a drink. bruce perks up at the sound of footsteps. he turns to face his guest, slipping back into the role of a gracious host with ease. "evening." he offers them a dazzling smile, before setting his glass down on the railing. "either you're lost, or you're not enjoying the party. which is it?" bruce teases. they must have been lost. this balcony was attached to the master bedroom, which could only be found on the second floor, far away from the party.

[incubito]

agent helios was nervous. he had never really been on a date before, if he could even consider this a date. max had just invited him out to dinner, which was common between agents, especially on assignment. which meant that this most definitely was not a date. bummer. caleb had developed a crush shortly after meeting him at the academy, and it had persisted years later. unlike his companion, helios followed every single rule and order given to him. agents were forbidden from dating, so he had never allowed himself to feel anything more than desire for flux. technically he wasn't breaking the rules by just having dinner with max, especially with a table between them. but every now and then he could feel the other agent's shoe brush against his bare ankle and it made him feel like he was on fire. well, not literally. but it felt pretty damn close.

ordinarily his entire body was aflame, burning with the intensity of the sun. caleb was glad that he appeared normal in front of max, at least for a few hours. the bracelet around his wrist made him unable to use his powers, suppressing the flames that made him appear as if he was a hellspawn. "so..you're stealing." that much was certain whenever max or his mother were involved. they couldn't go anywhere without swiping something. caleb lifts his hands above his chest, "not that I'm judging! I know that's what you grew up on and everything." his cheeks burn with a different kind of warmth than usual. "I admire the hustle. I'm always so impressed by your....finesse.."

@incubito

Max & (Whoever you want)

Location: Some Small Coastal Italian Town, Local Ruins of the Romans made it a tourist stop

A Little Down Time

"It's not my fault they wanted to pay for my meal. I never said I was lost or without my family they assumed and I didn't correct them." Max was all sweet innocent smiles and soft curls, a gentle touch and a little nuzzle of affection when he wanted something, an older tourist couple with plenty of money, and easy mark, Max had also memorized their credit card numbers, and what hotel they were at so he could keep charging stuff to their room for the next few days, but that was immaterial. Until it did materialize into things. For him.

In reality he spoke more than enough Italian to get by and even if he didn't he had a translator in his ear piece. Still he gestured back to the pasta and then to the seat next to him. A silent offering of some of his food. While lithe and agile Max ate, and he ate a lot, as was evident as he shoveled his food into his cheeks now. So offering up food was a fairly considerate and rare thing for him.

[incubito]

[incubito]

This was above his pay grade. Frank didn't deal with twinks falling out of portals, or whatever followed through them. Doctor Strange dealt with shit like this because it was his job. But he couldn't just leave angel to his own devices. Nah. he'd never forgive himself if he let a cute twink like that die on his watch. Frank looks down at the hole ridden corpse of a S.O.U.R agent with a furrow in his brow. "You're welcome, mijo." He's still uncertain what to make of Angel, but he could tell that the kid meant him no harm. Especially with that lisp. Frank extends a calloused hand for Angel to flex before it's swiftly recoiled. He narrows his eyes at the gummy bear on the agent's shoulder warily. "Frank." Frank holsters his firearm before kneeling down to get a better look at one of the S.O.U.R agents. Dipping his fingers into whatever green goo was dripping out of them, he can't help but feel curious. "What the hell are these guys?"

&. angel oso ; agent gummy bear.

we're coming in hot, fernando ! that's what the gummy bear agent last remembers saying before leaping through the droppop portal: when they were send to a S.O.U.R stronghold, it was to bring it down: angel had no idea of the technology that was hidden before the ambush, as well as the boosted security. while their gummy blaster was working overtime, it just wasn't enough to singlehandedly take out that many enemies before being overwhelmed. it was huge ass risk to leap into the unknown, but it was the only way to escape. but their instinct proved right when they land into a far less colorful world than their own. the voyage did disorient them a bit, everything ringing and blurry until it stops altogether, blinking as their ears twitch to the gruff voice of their savior. all the gelatanous agent could fully make out was the smell of hot lead and the mix of burning sour sugar: that was definitely S.O.U.R. guts on them. ❝ whoa, you're tall … did you kill the S.O.U.R ? oh thank you ! you totally saved my tail ! ❞ oso praises with a chipper smile, pretty doe eyes looking from behind their ‘bear’ ears from their cyan visor. ❝ I'm agent gummy bear ! and this is fernando ! ❞ cue the slightly bigger-than-usual blue gummy bear hopping on the jelly combatant's shoulder.