#and a cigar

[maxwell-mtv]

SOME RANDOM MORRIS HEADCANONS OF MINE THAT I'VE COLLECTED OVER A PERIOD OF NIGHTS!

[All of my headcanons are attuned based on my modded version of Stardew Valley. The only real difference from the base game being that he has an office in the Joja Mart with one of the mods I have (sadly I can't say for sure which mod did that. If I ever find out I will put it here) I hope y'all enjoy this late night, sleep deprived post!]

Without further ado, here's my random collection of Morris hcs:

○ He's in his late 30s, early 40s

● Definitely loves scotch and/or whiskey

○ Is a workaholic (obviously)

● He doesn't know it but on the topic of him being a workaholic, he's fueled by praise

○ Not much of a music lover but does enjoy some jazz or some classic rock on the occasion

● Despite being chubby he CAN AND WILL put up a good fight (Pierre is a professional, so I'm gonna ignore that one fight 👀)

○ That being said, he can also lift a surprising amount of weight

● Is rather old fashioned in his ideas but not so much in a bigoted way like Pierre can be at times

○ He's more of the mind that if his S/O doesn't want to work, he'll assure them that he has the means for them to never need to work another day in their life

● He also has a standard of living that's a bit... uppity...

○ You will never see Morris dirty or disheveled (and if you do, it won't last long)

● He may have a little bit of OCD

○ Enjoys baking when he has the time

● Will buy flowers to spruce up his desk

○ Has a secret stash in his office that is his own little mini bar

● If you become friends with him, he will invite you into his office to share a glass of whiskey or scotch while telling you what the age of it is and how to best enjoy it (as well as other fun facts regarding the drink)

[metanarrates]

you can instantly make a cool female character if you just take any stereotypically masculine character type and make him a butch lady. easiest trick in the book. you can try this at home

[belalugosi1882]

Bela Lugosi smoking on the set of Dracula 1931

[thefaiao]

I love you Mettaton

[queermasculine]

smoking is bad. unless yuo do it for gay sex reasons. then its good

[i-like-media]

[vintage-tigre]

[legobenkenobi]

DISNEYLAND DEADPOOL SAYING HE AND WOLVERINE FUCKED. OK MAN. WHAT THE FUCK EVER.

[karmicgalaxies]

18+ Content MDNI.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) X AFAB! Reader

Disclaimers: Implied unprotected sex (Wrap it before you tap it!) Riding, Shotgunning cigar smoke, Spanking? If you squint. P in V Sex Logan’s a little mean here. Just a small imagine/drabble that’s mainly my self indulgence.

Imagine sitting in Logan’s lap while he’s smoking a cigar, laying back while you’re riding him. You’re a desperate, wet and whiny mess while you pick yourself up and sink back down onto his cock in an almost embarrassingly desperate fashion. His thick cock stretching you out oh so deliciously in all the right ways, disappearing into your aching, needy cunt again and again. “Logan.. I.. I can’t..” You begin, knees nearly buckling as you struggle with his size.

“Shh. You can. Keep goin’.” Logan replies. A smug, grin on his face as he savors the feeling of his cock enveloped in your sweet pussy. He takes another drag of the cigar between his fingers. Placing a firm smack on your asscheeks when he feels you starting to slack, the impact of his heavy palm on your pretty little ass is sudden and sharp. Yeah, that’s gonna leave a nice (not so) little handprint shaped mark. Hell, you already feel the sting. That’s motivation enough for you to build back up a pace.

“There you go, darlin’. That so hard fer ya?” Logan speaks condescendingly. Almost in a low growl. Grabbing you by the jaw, he brings your face in close to his as he shotguns the cigar smoke into your mouth, allowing you savor the flavor of the tobacco on your tongue. The proximity just shy of ending in a passionate kiss. One which you hope he gives, but he ultimately denies, a whimper escaping those pretty lips. All the meanwhile a wolfish grin is painted on Logan’s bastardly handsome face.

Shame. He almost feels bad. Almost tempted to rub his thumb at your swollen little clit in that circular motion that makes you see stars, bring you to the edge that you desperately need. However he refrains from indulging you in such a manner. Cruelly watching your pathetic attempt at getting off on his cock without his intervention or effort.

[thankstothe]

annoyingmammalpenisstorysubplot

[defilerwyrm]

genuine pig

[tampire]

Slayer's crouch animation looks smoking hot in Guilty Gear Strive

[24hrsoda]

entertaining the thought of Wade leaning over and blowing cigar smoke directly in to Logan’s face just to be Annoying™️ because he’s bored and wants to annoy Logan, except Logan actually thinks it’s the hottest thing that’s ever been done (he is down bad)

[moondirti]

there’s something so erotic about a man who grabs your jaw when you keep avoiding his gaze so he can force your eyes on his

featuring: SOAP, afab reader, oral, spitting, mild dubcon (i.e. boundary crossing)

soap has always been intense. a bullet shot off in a steel room, bound to ricochet until it makes contact with something that can absorb its impact. you're in the right place at the right time: a bar, the gym he frequents, perhaps even a football game he'd been anticipating for weeks. it doesn't really matter what context he first spots you in – all that energy, that orderless enthusiasm he seems to prescribe to everything, sharpens to focus solely on you. bonnie wee thing that keeps sliding him wily looks, instilling in him a mission he knows he won't back down from.

at first it's how to approach you. easy enough; you like him too, that much he can tell. so when you eventually agree to a farmers market date (where he intends to spoil you rotten with food from every stall), it becomes about opening you up. figuratively at first, you have a hard time keeping up with him without getting overwhelmed. startled at how forthcoming he is, stunned at the manner in which he treats you. like he's known you for years, a childhood best friend you only met last tuesday. he calls right after your first date, asks you to accompany him for coffee before his morning run. shows up at your door unannounced, carrying tools to fix the fan you briefly complained wasn't working. is bold enough to sneak his hand on your thigh while you're watching a movie later that evening, gradually moving higher as your breath begins to falter.

he spares no effort once things get sexual, either. if you expect him to go easy for your first time, you'll come to sorely regret the mistake. quick to slip out of his too-tight shirt, even quicker to spread your legs out on your couch. manages to get your joggers off but opts to merely shift your panties to the side, fingers hooked in the thin material (which he will pocket later). when he envelops your entire cunt with his mouth, his tongue digs into every fold, every hole if it means he can swallow down the smallest part of you.

taste s’good hen, bloody mad wae it

only you’re not looking at him. instead, you’ve thrown your head back, too lost in the pleasure to pay attention to the show he’s putting on for you. why exactly, he's not sure. he’s being good, isn’t he? giving you everything you need? his heart races a mile per minute and something needy, something dark twists within him. he laves his tongue over your hole once more, collecting the juices that pour for him and gathering it behind his teeth alongside a hefty glob of saliva.

when he moves up your body, he tucks your chin in his palm, pulling your head down to face him.

it's too much. too much. he doesn't seem to realise it, but you're breathing is still inconsistent and shallow, and you're about to cry from overstimulation. now he's forcing eye contact, nose kissing yours, and pressing down on either side of your jaw so you're forced to open your mouth wide. you know what's coming, see it from the way his cheeks move. it's all you can do to brace yourself for the inevitable, unable to voice your aversion to the kink. fisting your hands, tensing your throat. but it's as you close your eyes that his self-restraint snaps.

so, he spits. it's thick and messy and heady with the smell of your sex. he doesn't even aim it properly. a significant amount of it lands on your lip, some even on your nose. your tongue gets the brunt of it though, the new weight of fluid causing you to gag. yet his pupils are blown so wide they're barely blue anymore, a cerulean ring around bottomless black, fixated on the sloppy state of your mouth, and it's hard to deny him anything that boils him down to such a state. like a puppy. over-eager and exhilarated when you indulge him so.

you never learn to like it, though it becomes a routine thing.

[bluestation]

at work

[vintage-tigre]

Salma Hayek on Entertainment Tonight, 1994