#I hope this answer is okay

[evanbi-ckley]

Does it bug you when people refer to bucktommy as "gay men" or is it just me? Like Buck is bi, not gay-at-the-moment. Sincerely, a bi who is sick of explaining she's not straight just because she married a man.

does it bug me personally? not really. I'm not sure why, maybe a generational thing? it would be more accurate to call it a queer relationship or maybe a homosexual relationship, but when I was growing up, gay was just a blanket term for both of those. I do understand why you're feeling frustrated though! I assume it feels like more bi-erasure when bisexuality is already underrepresented or only shown through stereotypes

[decoloraa]

Ask th OCs - Cas/Val, okay, but how ~HOW~ did the proposal happen??? You mentioned being engaged in another answer so??? Who asked??? Where???

Sadly Casther and Val aren’t engaged 😔 unless?

And that’s the last question for the oc q&a! Thanks so much for everyone who sent something, I had so much fun 🤲🏻💕 and I’ll probably do it again some day

[marsipain]

Norwegian Mikus :)

Left is Miku as a russ and right is Miku in a bunad!

[bonus-links]

HOMESICK, pt. 7

first | prev | next>>

PATREON

[beartitled]

So if Billy's parents became monsters, what happened to Billy's old Henchmaniacs?

The dudes found real jobs

Look at them go 🧑‍💼👷🧑‍⚕️

[linkvcr]

HI HELLO IN HONOR OF DISABILITY PRIDE MONTH I HUMBLY REQUEST DISABLED SKYWARD SWORD LINK OF YOUR CHOOSING

HELLO HELLO! i decided to draw ur POTS hc for Link :-] hope u like it ^_^

[collophora]

Fic writers who wrote migrainous-hunter I love you Inspired by This fic from @just-here-with-my-thoughts and this one too by lucifer_elliot and this one by @oohhihoney

[taintandviolent]

From smut prompts can you do a combo of 2 and 57 for Remy Lebeau x female!Reader?

Love your writing and can’t wait for part 2 of Taco tuesday!

warnings: smut (doggy-style), dirty talk, uhhhhhh i dunno what else. mirror sex? yeah.

His groans are more frequent, breathing ragged. Suddenly, he reaches around to your face, his strong hand gripping your jaw, straightening your head gently. Your eyes are still closed, painfully heavy with arousal. He’s fucked you senseless, and without his current support, you can barely hold your head up. 

“Look at your reflection, cher.” he murmurs. His voice is sultry, laden with arousal and you peel your lids back, swallowing hard. You’re suddenly faced with your own reflection; the mirror on the back of your door. It’s parallel to your bed, and until right then, you somehow forgot that. To Remy, it had been an intentional, calculated move. The position you two were currently in was one that felt impersonal to him sometimes, but because you had a mirror, he still got to enjoy all the subtle nuances of your arousal, and the way you responded to his body.

Doing it doggy-style, you’re on your knees and elbows, and Remy is tall behind you, all brawn. Your eyes flit to your own image somewhat apprehensive, for no man has ever made you look at yourself during sex and you’re not sure what you’re about to find. To your surprise, it’s not embarrassing, nor is it something that kills your high. 

The way the light filters in from your bedroom window casts you in a dreamy yellow haze, flushing your skin with a light glow. Your gaze is lust blown, your cheeks are flushed, your ample cleaveage is rocking back and forth with the force of his movements, and your hair mussed up from where he’d been holding onto it. He thrusts his hips into you once, hard, and your expression contorts into one of pleasure, body shuddering against the action. Seeing it in the mirror is a new experience, but the visual turns you on even more. If you were going to be honest with yourself, you were hot.  

You grip the sheets, making fists in the fabric as Remy hammers into you. Your jaw drops, and a low, erotic moan of pleasure tumbles out over your flushed lips. He, too, looks so good – the way his handsome features look almost tormented with pleasure, the way he’s moving against you, his muscles rippling with each exertion. 

“Look at how gorgeous you are.” He continues, his words choppy from the power of his thrusts. Despite that, his voice is deep and commanding, and he holds your hips, using them as leverage for his thrusts. “So gorgeous when I’m fuckin’ you like ‘dis. So pretty for me, and only for me, huh?”

You’re only able to moan in response as the sensations overwhelm you. He’s hitting all the right spots, taking you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 

“Ain’t ‘dat right, cher?” He urges, watching you in the mirror. You nod, breathlessly. He cocks a languid, half-smile; pleased that you’re appreciating yourself, even a little bit. If you saw yourself through his eyes… 

He suddenly leans forward, pressing his toned stomach against your back, and urging himself farther inside of you. His voice, when he speaks, is husky and low, almost a growl. 

“I ain’t sharin’ you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and Remy gonna’ make you remember ‘dat.”.

The way he fucks you then is ruthless, staying true to his previous claim. His hips hammer into yours, cock bullying your cunt with reckless abandon. Your arousal climbs higher, and higher until it reaches a peak; you can’t hold it back any longer Your eyes fly open again, brows pulled together in tortured lust, as the coil snaps and you collapse the front half of your body forward, soaking him and arching your back up until it aches.

Remy’s close behind you, but his stamina is better than yours. Another new experience; men usually come first (too quickly, at that), but not him. He’s got you in ten different positions, three orgasms deep before he paints your insides. 

“Ah, cher… c’mere.”

[canisalbus]

Idk if you've ever seen it, but I imagine Machete coming to Vasco in his dreams like bambi's mom does to him in bambi 2. Just this beautiful golden field they played in, shining butterflies haloing Machete who isn't sickly, isn't in pain, a healthy beautiful dog but still undeniably himself. Looking at him with so much love and kindness, even though his mortal form is gone, he's been so truly blessed. Gives Vasco the strength to go on.

.

[rodolfoparras]

Anyways.... Omega soap is a baby trapper. No questions asked. (Wanted to make it poly, but idk how to write multiple people jumping on one dick (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠) / I think this all comes across fanon in cod but, Johnny's is a certified baby trapper, even higher than Price.)

Tw: Not beta read, we die like so-🔫 men, a/b/o elements , Baby trapping , Dubious Consent

Johnny is a rambunctious wild spirit for an omega, Free spirited in ways that turns off people, but you, you do atleast that's what he thinks. You've grown distant in a few days, noticeably busying yourself with tasks handed to you by Price and steered away from him at every turn.

He's grown antsy, frantic, pheromones all over the place at the prospect of losing you. He decides to sweeten himself up, acting docile in your presence, purposely spraying enhancing pheromone perfumes to catch even a speck of your attention, acting like a good omega should.

But you don't, not even a single lingering glance and it sends him whining to himself like a kicked dog. Have you grown tired of him? Have you found a sweeter omega? Has his personality rubbed you off some wrong way?

He has grown to share this with the other members of the omega's task force, yapping on from your rather sudden change.

"He's... Probably nearing his rut, you know how alpha's get in a loner phase when it's time" Gaz remarks, returning to his own work, frankly tired of the redundant complaining reaching his ears on each break.

A lightbulb lights up on his head and he's racing to your room, he can practically hear the low mewls and rustling of fabric being dragged on the floor.

He opens it to reveal you all hot and bothered, without a mate in sight and a musk that practically sends him down on all fours.

He cooes at you gently, letting you sniff and pull him down with you, letting you claw his hips as you get a scent of slick starting to gather in his trousers.

It's not long before he's all bare, clawing at the floor, while his poor neglected hole gets eaten and prepped, two fingers slotted in.

Not one word is spared between you, an obvious scowl on your face, but your cock head already pushing his rim. He shouldn't be here, not at your most potent state, not wanting to tie him with a pup or an inconvenient knot.

Meanwhile his mind is scrambled, eyes brimming with tears from relieve from being wanted again, arms clawing and legs trapping you, to lock you at each knot.

He can't possibly relive those hellish weeks of your ignorance. He decides there and then. He has to intertwine you with him.

He comes by your barracks after weeks after your initial rut, a little box, filled with tests all positive pregnancy tests. He wants you, he needs you, and baby would all make that more solidified.

-💫

( Didn't expect people to like omega Price so well,,, I'm so shy )

[Read more]

[solarmorrigan]

omg I'm obsessed with your latest "don't fucking touch me" prompt. Would you continue it?

Hello! I know this is actually from earlier in the week than the one I answered a couple of days ago, but I was saving it because, while I don't exactly have a continuation, I do have a little stobin interlude I wanted to share

I'm still working on the "fix it" part of this idea, but at least in the meantime Steve gets a hug?

[Part 1]

It isn’t unusual for Steve to show up at Robin’s house well after any reasonable guest would come knocking. It isn’t unusual for him to do it by climbing the side of the house and knocking on her window (she hasn’t told him that her parents don’t really care anymore if he’s there in the middle of the night; she figures the physical activity counts as some kind of jock enrichment). Unfortunately, it isn’t even unusual for him to appear out of the dark because he’s upset.

What’s more unusual is the way he sits silently on her bed after she’s let him in, the way he’s almost folded in on himself, the way he won’t quite meet her eyes – as if there’s anything he can or even needs to hide from her.

What’s fucking unheard of is the way he starts crying when she pulls him into a hug, his face pressed to her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist like she might disappear if he doesn’t hold on.

Robin doesn’t even understand what’s happening at first; she can feel Steve shaking against her as she rubs a hand up and down his back, but when his shoulders start to heave like he’s having trouble drawing in breath, a cold bolt of uncertainty lances through her gut. She tries to pull him back to look at him, to see what’s wrong, but she only gets him far enough away to hear one very quiet sob before he’s hiding his face again and she realizes–

“Oh. Oh, shit– okay, this is happening. Okay.” Robin resolutely does not panic as Steve sobs into her shoulder, even though crying isn’t something Steve does (not that Robin’s ever seen, and she’s seen Steve through a lot); instead, she goes back to rubbing a hand up and down his back, bringing her other up to pet his hair, and tries her best to project literally any kind of comfort. “Okay, you’re okay – well, you’re obviously not okay, but I’ve got you. You can just let all this out and when you feel up to it you can tell me what’s wrong because you’re kind of freaking me out, but not until you’re ready, okay? I’ve got you.”

She feels maybe her success is mixed, but Steve doesn’t complain and he doesn’t seem to be made more upset, so she can’t be doing too badly.

All told, Steve’s breakdown is unsettlingly quiet. Robin tries not to think about why he can cry so silently, and instead focuses on finding the transition from actively sobbing to sniffling and trying to catch his breath. The next time she tries to pull him back, he lets her, still not quite meeting her eyes and automatically bringing a hand up to wipe at the tear tracks on his face.

Robin has seen Steve all manner of beaten and bloodied and bruised, but somehow, sitting here in her room, still half-curled into her space with his face blotchy and wet from crying, she thinks this might be the most upset she’s ever seen him. She can only imagine what’s happened to cause it – at least until she can get him to tell her.

“Get it all out?” Robin asks, as gently as she’s able (she’s never been great at gentle, but Steve’s used to her by now, she thinks he’ll get it).

Steve shrugs, but then gives a little nod.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do: I’m going to give you some tissues so you can clean yourself up, because I love you, but I’m not going to wipe your nose.” This gets a congested laugh from Steve, and Robin allows herself an answering smile. “Then I’m going to go downstairs and get you something to drink, and then you’re going to tell me what’s wrong, because I am this close to being seriously alarmed.”

“Sorry,” Steve says gruffly, ducking his head, moving to pull away.

“Nope, we don’t do sorry here, nothing to be sorry for,” Robin insists, grabbing Steve by the shoulders and keeping him close. “I just want to know what’s wrong, okay? I want to help. So here.” She shoves the box of tissues from her bedside table into Steve’s lap and gets up with one last squeeze to his shoulders. “I’ll be right back.”

Robin slips out of her room and sneaks down to the kitchen (her parents don’t really care about Steve’s late night visits, but they will be grumpy if she wakes them up), poking around quietly for some kind of suitable post-breakdown sustenance. She ends up with a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge and a half-eaten package of Oreos from the pantry – the late night snack of champions, she decides.

Back up in her room, Steve has shucked his sneakers (no shoes on Robin’s bed, it’s a cardinal rule) and settled himself up against the pillows; his face is dry and his eyes aren’t as red, but the tiny smile he gives her when she passes over her spoils still makes him look just as sad as before. Still, Robin valiantly lets him get through half the bottle of Gatorade before she elbows him gently in the side, demanding answers.

“Right.” Steve caps the bottle and rolls it nervously between his hands, watching the highlighter fluid yellow slosh around inside. “So, uh. You know how I’ve been seeing Eddie?”

Robin’s heart sinks. “Oh, shit, did you two break up?”

“Actually, it turns out…” Steve clears his throat. “It turns out that there wasn’t anything to break up. Apparently, we’ve been friends with benefits this entire time and I’m just a delusional idiot who made up an entire relationship in my head. So there’s that.”

There is nothing Robin can think to say to that. There’s entirely too much to unpack, and none of it makes sense.

“What,” she finally manages, a little flat.

“Yeah, he said that, uh. I’m not the type of guy you have a relationship with, and that I’m hot, but I’m just a good friend, and we’re just having fun.” If Steve’s voice cracks on the last word, Robin doesn’t mention it.

In fact, she’s too busy being consumed by rage to really notice. “He said that to your face?” she demands.

Steve clears his throat. He won’t meet her eyes. “Not– not exactly.”

“Steve.”

“The guys were over, and I went out to get some air, and that’s… what I heard Eddie saying to them when I came back in,” Steve says. “So now they know how pathetic I am, too, which is. Great. That’s fucking great.”

The world goes still. Suddenly, everything makes perfect sense. Robin reaches out and squeezes Steve’s wrist. “I’m going to have to leave for a few hours, okay?” she says. “I have to bike down to the trailer park and fucking kill Eddie.”

In a flash, Steve twists in Robin’s grip and grabs her by the wrist in turn. “Don’t leave,” he says quickly.

“No, he doesn’t– he doesn’t get away with this,” Robin hisses. “He doesn’t get to do this to you and not face consequences!”

“He wasn’t trying to– I mean– I was the one who–”

“Are you defending him right now?”

“No, I just– fuck.” Steve lets go of Robin and shoves both hands up into his hair, grabbing and pulling. “I already feel enough like some fucking – loser reject, okay? I don’t want to be alone right now. Please just… stay.”

The rage doesn’t abate (if anything, there’s probably more of it), but Robin’s priorities do rearrange, and she settles back on the bed next to Steve. “Fine,” she huffs. “Munson gets a stay of execution.”

She pushes the package of Oreos into Steve’s lap and orders him to finish the Gatorade. She doubts if he’s going to escape tonight without a migraine, but dehydration on top of stress will only make it worse.

They sit quietly for a while, munching on cookies, shoulder to shoulder on Robin’s bed, before Robin breaks into the silence.

“You’re not a loser, Steve. You’re my best friend, and you deserve to be loved, okay?” she says softly, reaching over to wrap her hand around his wrist again. “And one day it’s going to happen. I’m choosing to believe in love, too.”

For a long moment, Steve says nothing. When he finally does speak, his voice has gone a bit rough. “If you make me cry again, I’m dumping what’s left of the Gatorade over your head.”

Robin snorts, squeezing Steve’s wrist. “There’s that mean girl I know and love.”

Steve laughs, too, small but sincere, and Robin takes it as a win.

Part 3

[retquits]

submitting a few of these requests but I just lowkey hope you vibe enough with one idea & work ur artistic magic ✨

semi-related note: will you be taking fom comms later on? :>

hehe i know i already drew one of your requests, but i wanted to answer/use this as a way to ask:

would folks actually be interested in me opening fields of mistria (and potentially stardew valley?) commissions? 💞

they would probably be grab-bag art style aaand probably on vgen, which i don't think i mentioned here, but i have one of those now!!!

if there's any interest, i'll set up a listing and let y'all know! because i would absolutely love to!!!

[chiscribbs]

Hi I’m here to take your teams picture before the competition

"...we may need to take a raincheck on that."

This is going well so far, isn't it? (P.S. I promise they will be in costume at some point. The plot is in progress, bear with me, lol.)

More @tmntaucompetition shenanigans! Special cameos by @angelpuns, @kaysdenofchaos, & @rattraptmnt's AUs

[Grown Apart AU] [INTRO]

<<PREV / NEXT>>

[oneflydude]

two of my friends where in actual shock when i said john lennon is attractive but more specifically this photo of him. can the johngirls out there PLEASE back me tf up!!!

[wejustvibing]

???

[ja3yun]

Can i make a request?

Y/n saw this post and rant about bf!jake about this, only to be pounded by him as peace offering (breeding kink, talks about marriage, overstimulation) 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🙏🏻

https://twitter.com/asterjwon/status/1762378305490338241?t=yDIAkzHkDVx87C4_6BjXJg&s=19

hi! I don't normally take requests but this one was too good. the video has plagued me since i saw it 😩 when will it be me? hope this what you're looking for!

warnings: smut (mdni), breeding kink, overstimulation, cream pie, tummy bulge, mentions of jealousy and pregnancy, not proofread, anything else lmk!

w.c: 1.2k

-----

“I can’t believe you,” you scoff, folding your arms to mimic the disgruntledness within your body.

Jake stares at you bewildered, “Seriously? Because I put a ring on a fan's finger?” you’re usually so understanding about these things. Typically, you never bother being jealous, he’s always been flirty with others, his fanservice on another level compared to others.

So why is this one bothering you so much?

“You don’t get it, Jake. Just forget it,” your voice is wavering but you hide it behind a deep breath.”

He walks towards you, cupping your cheek with his hand, “Are you really gonna act like this?” his words are harsh but he’s only trying to coax an explination from you, “It’s my job, Y/N.”

“I know it’s part of your job, Jake, I’m not stupid,” you bite back, pushing him away slightly.

Jake stands there, not used to this cold side of you, it makes him think if this has just beem bottling up inside you since you both started dating.

Sighing, he rubs his hands over his face in frustration, “I know you”re not stupid, but fuck Y/N, I can’t read your mind,” his voice raises slightly but he’s trying to keep his composure.

“You’re so quick to accept marraige proposals, get fake married at fansigns, and speak all day like about your future wife on lives but as soon as I want to talk about us and our future, you cower away!” you let it all out, the tension in your shoulders lifting slightly from all the pent up anger.

You’ve been holding it in for months but placing a ring on another woman’s finger, fan or not, has tipped you over the edge. Jake has avoided any talk regarding marriage or kids, opting to make a quick lighthearted joke or changing the subject, however, there is only so many ‘we can start practising’ and ‘did you see that book you like is beng made into a movie’ you can take.

After you’ve ranted about your troubles, you hear the unthinkable - he laughs. Not like a hearty laugh but a snicker which somehow is even worse.

“Are you seriously laughing about this right now?” you glare at him, hoping you just heard wrong, yet there he is, smiling his head off.

He glides towards you, placing his hands on your hips, “Baby, no, I’m not laughing,” he said through chuckles which obviously doesn’t help his case, “You’re just so cute when you’re jealous.”

Brushing your hair away from your neck, he begins to scatter kisses all over the base, working his way up. His lips linger, tongue flicking on your skin ever so slightly just to tease you.

Losing focus, you stutter, “I-I’m not jealous.”

“But you are, baby,” his grip tightens a little on your hips as he presses himself against you, eliciting a moan from you, “You know you have nothing to be jealous of.”

He trails his fingers from your waist to the bottom of your tummy, playing with the waistband of your trousers. His sudden provocative touch making you crumble, forgetting what you’re even angry about.

“You’re the only one I’m going to spend the rest of my life with,” he whispers into your ear, the tips of his fingers crawling into your trousers and placing themselves teasingly at your entrance, “And you’re certainly the only one I’m fucking and filling up with my cum,” two of his fingers enter you suddenly, you grip onto his shoulders.

His thumb attaches itself to your clit, rubbing it roughly as his fingrr curl into you. Jake’s lips are ghosting over yours as he smirks, feeling your ragged breath, “You like that idea hmm? For me to make you mine and marry you? Fuck my kids into you?” his spare hand sneaks under your t-shirt and rubs over your stomach tenderly, “What if I fill you up until you’re so full there’s no choice but to get pregnant?”

You’ve never been more turned on in your life, the mix of his words with the way his fingers are moving inside your pussy so deliciously has you purring.

But before you can get too comfortable, he pushes you onto the bed and yanks your bottoms down, leaving you exposed to his gaze.

Once he discards you and him of all your clothes, he crawls onto you, his hand resuming his previous activities, except this time with more vigour. His cock throbs as it sits on your inner thigh, only making you ache more for him.

Jake focuses on rubbing your sensitive nub, feeling how close you are already, “Who did you think I meant when I spoke about my future wife?” he smooches along the mounts of your breasts, taking your nipples in his mouth as he passes them.

Your head is cloudy, too lost in the feeling of his lips on you and his fingers working you open, your clit throbbing on his thumb. The mewls that are falling from your mouth hit him straight to his cock, making it jump slightly.

“Cmon, Y/N, who did you think I was talking about?” he asks again, picking up the speed of his digits.

“M-me,” you breathe out after mustering up the words that are tangled in your pleasure.

“So why the jealousy, hmm?” his voice is too calm, a stark opposite to your writhing body and busy mind. He can feel your walls clamping down and your slick dripping down his hand, indicating how close you are, “You’re so silly, baby,” he mocks you slightly but only because he can’t imagine why you would take his fanservice to heart like that.

You feel the familiar heat rising in your stomach as you tense, feeling your climax wash over you, “Fuck, Jake!,” you cry out his name while you dig your fingers into his shoulders.

The sensation of you coming undone only serves to fuel his desires even more, his dick longing to be the one you’re squeezing around. Swiftly, he removes his hand from your heat, leaving you empty but not for long.

Quickly, he lines up at your entrance and pushes inside you, your hole still contracting and tight from your orgasm. He isn’t giving you a moment to breathe, to recover from your climax.

Jake’s thrusts drive into you at great speed, the way your walls are hugging him tightly is driving him to pound into you deeper.

“You feel so fucking incredible,” he huskily whispers, his thumb back on the attack of your bud.

Your pussy is being overstimulated, each thrust of his hips and rub from his thumb has you thrashing around under him, a mix of pain and pleasure, “Jake, s’too much,” you groan as your hands weakly try to hold his hips still.

But he is too far gone, lost inside you, “You want me to stop?” he asks cheekily, a smirk splayed over his face, “Isn’t this what you want? For me to fill you up?”

Your clit is burning, your hole is being stretched beyond belief and you really don’t want him to stop, not your mind anyway, yet your body is trying to fight him, the overstimulation all a bit too much.

It feels so fucking good though.

Jake is getting close, you can tell when his hips faulter slightly and his jaw tenses. You want him to cum soon, if not to give your pussy a break, to give you what you desperately crave.

Reaching down, you clasp your hand around his wrist and remove his thumb from your nub - relief instantly washing over you - and place it on your stomach, his cock bulging with each buck of his hips.

He looks down and feels it, the tip of his cock poking out just under your belly button, “Fuck, Y/N. You’re gonna look so cute carrying our kid,” he says whistfully, voice full of love and adoration.

Kissing your lips hungrily, you feel another orgasm flushing through your body, that coil snapping once again as you clench his length, legs wrapping around him to hold him still as you ride it out.

Jake spurts ropes of his seed deep into you, making good of his promise to fill you up. The pulse of his dick adds even more gratification to you, the feeling of it jumping inside you makes you shake.

The room is filled with echoes of your shared pants and profanities, Jake's body falling on top of you once he’s rode out his high.

Looking up at you, his head laid on your chest, he smiles, “You’re unreal.”

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, you nod in agreement, “You too, baby,” you lean down to kiss his forehead lovingly.

“You know, I can’t wait to marry you,” he begins to speak, tracing shapes into your side, “I just want it to be at a time in our lives where I can actually be there for you. Once we’re settled and I’m not touring twenty-four seven. I want you to have a husband that’s always there when you need him, to help raise our family.”

His confession throws you off a little but your heart soars at the realisation that he has thought about your future together just as much as you have.

“And I promise, I won’t place rings on anyone’s fingers unless it’s yours,” he beams up at you, meaning every single word.

-----