#it's saucy guys

[anidiotwithfanfiction]

8,447 words in and I'm still not done with this one shot.

He gets me through it

[semisolidmind]

he's a menace. a flirty menace.

(i sorta mixed the deer monster idea with the krampus suggestions, though he looks more like a goat. fraulein here gets to deal with him showing up at her house just before Christmas every year just to pester her.)

[lynnbutlertron]

am i allowed to dump invincible doodles here?!!

also donald and cecil doodle im lowkey embarrassed about because it’s That Gay under the cut vvv (suggestive warning???? i think!???)

i love to make the non pathetic men pathetic-er than the pathetic ones. i’m ill

[emilysaucyyysonnett]

Via: uswnt twitter

[captainhysunstuff]

That anon ask has haunted me with visions of Light Yagami in the nun outfit.

Your ask has haunted me with the vision too:

Not sure if being a satanic nun is the best move to convince the task force of your innocence, Light...

A saucy extension below the cut:

...but a sexy satanic nun flashing some gartered thigh might be even more questionable! Well, no one's ever accused Light of being sane. I'm sure he could successfully rationalize his way into making this choice make sense in his goal of manipulating the task force (or at least L).

My reasons: I've seen too many sexy nun!Alastors, so Light has to channel that, too. XD

[avvail]

DETECTIVE X SUPERVILLAIN

tw: heavy intoxication, kidnapping, implied sc (dub-con, nothing explicit)

The detective swirled the liquid inside of their glass, staring at the ice cubes clattering inside. The atmosphere of the bar was loud in their ears, and heat was beginning to crawl down their cheeks and through the back of their neck.

They tossed the alcohol back, the contents burning their chest, before signaling for another.

“Don��t you think you’ve had enough?”

They tilted their head, glancing at the figure that had stopped beside them. They had a hand on the bar, lips pulled into a strained smile.

The detective frowned, stifling an offended hiccup. “And who are you?”

They knew it wasn’t a good idea to drown in their sorrows, but the investigation about Supervillain had just gone down the drain, and they’d been forbidden to indulge in the case any longer.

Apparently, it was being transferred to somebody else. They felt like snorting when they’d heard that. Detective didn’t boast often, but there was no way they would close this investigation without them.

They had been so close. So close.

“A concerned party,” the figure hummed, taking a seat next to them. “That’s all you need to know.”

Detective didn’t look at them. The bartender rolled them another drink, and they knocked a few large swigs down, a heavy sigh escaping their lips.

“Do I want to know any more?” They asked.

The figure smiled fondly. “I doubt it.”

They waved a hand sharply. Everything around the edges was starting to go fuzzy, yet they hadn’t drowned in their sorrows just enough yet. Pain bloomed in their chest, unsure whether that was from their lost case, or the whiskey.

The figure was still staring at them, head resting in their hand.

“Go on, scram,” the detective slurred. “Go away.”

They seemed a little closer than before, but maybe that the just the impossible heat catching under their collar. They felt fingers brushing their hair from their eyes, but didn’t bother to pull away. After squinting quite dramatically at them, they drunkenly deduced they had a pleasant face.

“If you knew who I was, you’d hold that pretty tongue of yours,” they hummed, smiling. “Though, I find you’re boldness very amusing.”

“I’m drunk,” they grunted.

“Quite.”

Detective leaned away from their touch, finishing their—how many glasses was it now?—whiskey in a foul gulp, ice cubes clinking against the intricately cut glass. They felt those fingers on their hair again, brushing them back behind their ear. The detective stiffled a hiccup.

“Got cut from my motherfucking case,” Detective frowned, their tongue seemingly unraveling from such a simple touch. It was cool against their skin, and they hummed as it travelled a little lower, to the corner of their jaw.

“Is that so?” The figure hummed. “Poor thing.”

“It was...mine,” they huffed, clumsily trying to wave the bartender over for another drink. “It was supposed to be mine. They ain’t gonna get ’em, without...my help.”

Their lips were barely even working. The figure’s hand was stroking gently under their jaw.

“Mm, what are you doing?”

They had a coy smile on their face that a detective might have been able to see wasn’t right, but there was also this pitiful softness beneath those alluring eyes that had them drawn into them instantly. Detective’s own eyes flickered, heart beating in their ears.

“Look at you,” a hushed whisper tickled their ear. “So upset that a simple touch has you practically falling into me.”

Detective braced their hand on the counter, stopping themselves. They tried to straighten up, feeling their stomach pool as the figure rose to their feet, towering over them. Their lips were by their ears, but not before pressing them to their jaw.

They shuddered.

“Alcohol isn’t going to help you feel better, but I can,” they whispered smoothly, dizzying their senses with that tone. “After all, you’ve done such a good job trying to find me. It won’t hurt to reward you a little, will it?”

The detective sucked in a cold breath. Their drunken mind could barely even fathom what they were saying. They were Supervillain? Were they just messing with them, trying to make them feel more miserable than they already were...?

“Yeah...” They weakly smiled, not believing them. “Yeah, right.”

The detective was still grumbling incoherent words under their breath as they were helped up off their chair, warm around their waist and guiding their own arm around their shoulders. They rocked and staggered, but the figure kept them steady.

“Maybe I might indulge you and show you where my base of operations are too,” the supervillain chuckled lightly, as if they weren’t sweeping the detective away in broad daylight. “You were rather close, after all.”

Detective snorted at that. “I...was, wasn’t I?”

Even though the detective didn’t believe it really was Supervillain, the latter had them crying out their name later that night regardless.

[apoemadaykeepsthehoesaway]

Storm

-Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)

His face was charged with beauty as a cloud

With glimmering lightning. When it shadowed me,

I shook, and was uneasy as a tree

That draws the brilliant danger, tremulous, bowed.

-

So must I tempt that face to loose it’s lightning.

Great gods, whose beauty is death, will laugh above,

Who made his beauty lovelier than love.

I shall be bright with their unearthly brightening.

-

And happier were it if my sap consume;

Glorious will shine the opening of my heart;

The land shall freshen that was under gloom;

What matter if all men cry out and start,

And women hide their faces in their shawl,

At those hilarious thunders of my fall?

[fieriframes]

[A little bit of sweet and oh, for once in my. Oh, for once in my life. Could just something go but could just something go right.]

[daguerreotyping]

Cabinet card of a group of gymnasts, c. 1880s

[gaywiththesauce]

It's Late

Giyuu should be asleep right now. The moon shines a gentle light through their cloth curtains, which were opened to welcome the summer air in.

He stared up at the ceiling in their bed, wondering what kept him up so late. Was it the trees moving carefully under the post-rain wind? Was it the crickets looking for others to hide from their loneliness? Was it the birds that were preparing to fly and sing to welcome the early sun? Was it the blankets that felt too heavy against their skin?

The arm around his waist pulled him closer. Giyuu couldn't help the smile that rose on his lips at the simple form of affection. He nuzzled against the body behind him, hopeful the stars would be merciful as to last longer so he could sleep again.

"Hey," a soft, croaky voice called out from the man behind him. Giyuu didn't have to answer. "You can't sleep?"

Kyojuro must have checked their alarm clock, because he kicked the blankets off of them. The thin, extra sheet was brought over them now. "Well, now that you're awake, neither can I. Let's just lay here, then. I love you."

They laid against each other in their bed. Their soft sheets stuck to their skin as did their beads of sweat from the mugginess of the summer night. Despite the slight discomfort, it was always worth it. Kyojuro was holding him, and his warmth melted the troubles of Giyuu's mind into a sappy, beloved bliss. The sun would be rising soon, but the night held onto their embrace just a little bit longer.

Giyuu didn't comment when Kyojuro fell asleep first, he had no complaints for someone like him. With his help, Giyuu fell asleep before the sun rose, and that's all he could ever ask from him.

Because this home, this bed, was theirs.

[anidiotwithfanfiction]

8,447 words in and I'm still not done with this one shot.

He gets me through it

[boltlightning]

steadfast and dependable

James Norrington keeps his word: when Will Turner cannot be pardoned for his crimes, he sets the smith free to save his life. Elizabeth Swann keeps her word: when James Norrington fulfills the terms of their engagement, she marries him. They make the most of the situation, all until Cutler Beckett comes to the Caribbean to bargain for a compass. dmc au, ~6.5k words. not quite norribeth not quite willabeth but certainly both. yearn.

“You are going to great lengths to ensure Mr. Sparrow’s freedom,” Beckett says, taking his sweet time signing the documents. His hands do not waver, but neither do Elizabeth’s.

“This is not for Jack,” she snarls.

“Yourself and your husband, then, certainly,” he says mildly. It brings Elizabeth no peace that Cutler Beckett is the only other person in Port Royal who thinks James might still live. Beckett glances up and his pale eyes catch hers with almost casual indifference. “Two prisoners escaped that day last year, did they not? Is there someone else you thought to offer the last pardon?”

Will. Her heart echoes his name with every beat. Elizabeth refuses to rise to the bait, and says only, “Do not presume to know me.”

“The only thing you have to offer me is information — I do not see why such observations should not also be considered valuable.”

Elizabeth stuffs the pardons in her dress and makes to leave, still aiming the pistol. Even when she is out of effective range, Beckett does not move. “I’ll still be wanting that compass,” he says quietly, the plea almost lost to the beating of the waves just outside his window. His eyes glitter like a cat’s in the dark. “Consider that in your calculations.”

Like a ghost Elizabeth disappears into the night. Beckett had spoken the words into existence, and damn it all, she is considering it. If James is dead, then she, at least, can still live. There is no reason that Will Turner should not live with her.

I am disgraced enough as it is, she thinks, and laughs aloud into the night. Maybe now I am worthy to be a blacksmith’s wife.

It is easy enough to slip aboard a merchant ship sailing out of Port Royal. One extra seaman is not cause enough for alarum aboard the Edinburgh Trader, a heavy collier set to depart Port Royal in the morning. Elizabeth spends the long awful night tucked into the cramped quarters of the ship, rocking in the harbor, staring out the nearest porthole and wondering when she will return. She must return to save her father from Lord Beckett’s justice — but she will need Jack and Will to do it.

“This is not goodbye,” she whispers to herself. 

But when the Trader departs in the morning, it feels finite enough.

(read on ao3!)

[narutos-sloppy-pussy]

I just watched Austentatious: The Queer Eye for the Regency Guy and it truly has everything. A man with the foulest walk who has a hyperfixation on Napoleon. A homosexual cousin. A woman whose father has been “dead” for seven years despite being alive up in the study the whole time. A murderous butler who’s gaslighting everyone. Saucy Sally’s Sausage Shop where all of the actors broke and one was in literal tears over the sexual innuendos. Dream sequence hats. The Chekov reference not being understood and that being baked into the sister’s character. Love wins. A marriage between two freaks who sat next to each other every day at Sunday (everyday) school who both love Napoleon. I’m obsessed.

[kpop-bbg]

[jopzer]

lil saucy wip for you guys :)

[afternoonblues]

OH NO NO NO NO now what do we have here!? imagine my face when I opened the full image 😳