#reposting from my other blog

[milfgyuu]

Joshua has a lovely singing voice. It’s soft and gentle, blanketing you in serenity like a heavy feathered comforter. At night, you lay your head against his chest and listen to the vibrations that lull you to sleep, one warm hand smoothing over the expanse of your back. When it became too difficult to lay on your stomach, he learned to sleep on his, keeping one arm wrapped around your hips and his lips pressed to your belly as he sang well into the night. Now, you watch him from the doorway as he rocks back and forth with your little one pressed to his chest. The melodic sound of his voice dancing around the room like the lights from the projector painting a moving galaxy on the nursery ceiling. A smile crosses your lips because you know the sweetest of dreams will be coming their way very soon - they always do when he sings to you. 

[destinybcnds]

Headcanon - Kotone ; Living in Hoenn

Prior to earning a scholarship and moving to Paldea, Kotone lived in the quaint town of Verdanturf. A stone's throw from Mauville, with the only features worth noting being the Rusturf tunnel and a contest hall. Her mother worked as a stage manager for the contest hall, ensuring that every performance went off without a hitch. Her father, an electrician specializing in Pokemon Gym equipment, was often away on contract jobs for weeks, sometimes months at a time.

And that left Kotone to her own devices much of the time.

When she wasn't hanging out in the contest hall with her mom, she would take a walk over to Mauville. It wasn't far, and there was a lot more to do in the bigger city. Plus you can entirely avoid the tall grass on route 117.

Kotone was more than capable of entertaining herself, but what she lacked was friends her own age. Sure the old couple at the daycare were sweet enough but the kids in Mauville? Not so much.

It started off innocently enough. Kotone would try to make friends with the local kids in town. She wanted to play, to talk about Pokemon. But the other kids seemed bothered by her presence. She would info-dump about her interests, go on long tangents about how to make amazing Pokeblocks, talk about stories that the old couple shared with her. And every time it was the same. The kids would quickly find excuses to leave or do something else, make faces, or barely acknowledge her with a grunt.

Okay that's fine.

So she started bringing back treasures that she found. She was really good at spotting rare items that trainers and Pokemon had dropped on their journey. She brought them to the other kids, as olive branches, or a chance to connect. Look at this cool thing I found! The kids would smirk, and laugh, and thank her for the gift. They'd whisper to each other when they were sure she could only barely see them out of the corner of her eye.

Over time they started asking her questions about herself. About what she enjoyed. But it always felt off. After every answer, the kids would share a look, and prod her for more. Until finally she left for home instead.

Despite these kids seeming like her friends, she felt more lonely than ever. It wasn't until she got the scholarship letter in the mail that she realized she was relieved to get away from them.

But what would happen when she got to Paldea? Would it be more of the same? Would she make real friends?

[codenameseance]

[kicks down the door] AND ANOTHER THING!!!!

why the FUCK did they include a shot in ep1 of Klaus pulling his dog tags out of the box of artifacts and staring at them longingly (why the fuck did he lose them in the first place? the same reason his tattoos disappeared? because steve blackman said 'fuck it'?) but then HE DOESN'T EVEN WEAR THEM FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON????

like, it's one thing to forget about a character's entire existence (rip Eudora Patch) but it's like. so unbelievably disrespectful to purposefully include an acknowledgement of one of the most important people in klaus' life and then just.......throw it to the wayside?? it genuinely would have hurt LESS if they didn't even do anything for Dave in the first place.

[lustagel]

𓊆 . ໋ 𝜗ৎ DEREK MORGAN & FOX! READER ˚ ୭ . ⊹ ۫

au work content, female! readers race not specified, dark content ( BAU content ), some nsfw content.

DEREK MORGAN & FOX! READER who had only been together for a couple months before his colleagues were sniffing at his clothes and giving each other knowing looks. of course, the looks don’t go missed by derek himself but he simply chooses to ignore them and let your smell cling to his shirt for the next couple weeks.

DEREK MORGAN who fully intended on keeping you to himself for a while—not out of shame, never that—he’s just not quite ready to give up the privacy of having his little secret yet. he intended on leaving it at small teasing and “needing to meet the misses soon.” a couple of grins, some smooth diversions—that had been enough. until one day, on the plane.

their places were already assigned by hotch, and there had been maybe two seconds of silence before emily broke it. “m’ just gonna ask what everyone’s been wondering—who’s the vampire?” emily teases, pointing at derek’s neck, her eyes bright with mischief. derek’s brow furrows until he mirrors her motion, his fingers brushing over the faint mark on his neck. then he remembers you—the way you’d smiled at him that morning, kissed him soft and sleepy before leaving him with a playful nip—and his mouth stretches into a wide, satisfied grin.

everyone is watching now, waiting. “none of your business. focus on the case,” derek says, his voice low and pointed. they all groan in unison. “ohh,” emily sings, eyes wide with mock scandal. “okay, mr. hit-it-and-quit-it.”

derek’s head snaps toward her, offended. “for the record, i am not hitting and quitting.” he points a finger at her. “It’s more of a hitting it and keeping it.” he gestures to spencer. “tell ’em, spence.” spencer immediately stiffens, wide-eyed. he looks at emily, caught. she’d had been interrogating him about for months. “i— i just found out like two days ago!”

emily’s mouth drops open. “so you did know!” she laughs, tossing a napkin at him. spencer looks down at it like it’s betrayed him. “wait, so you’ve seen her?” jj asks, shifting forward in her seat, suddenly a little too invested. derek’s eyes narrow. “hey—”

“you’re always worrying about who we’re interested in,” jj shrugs, shifting the file in her hand. “she’s got a point,” rossi chimes in with a shrug. “hey!” derek’s tone is all faux-offense, but his grin is sharp. “alright, alright, let’s stop harassing morgan and focus,” hotch’s voice cuts through the playful noise, his tone completely contrasting his slight grin.

“thank you,” derek sighs, settling deeper into his seat. but the low sound of soft laughs and teasing smiles linger.

DEREK MORGAN who is more than a little selfish about you even though he has no real reason to be. maybe because you have nothing to do with the BAU—and he likes it that way—or even though you don’t, you’re always keeping him on his toes and very much entertained. you make him work for it without even realizing you are, and derek? he wouldn’t have it any other way.

FOX! READER who always gives derek the illusion of control. he’s used to chasing—thrives off it—and the fact that you don’t even seem to notice you’re being chased just makes him want you more. you’re the sweetest to everyone on the team—always polite, always warm—but with derek, you’re different. you give him a hard time, whether on purpose or not, and derek loving this is an understatement—he adores it. he lives for the playful push-pull, the teasing edge you give him. and when he needs it—when the weight of the day is sitting too heavy on his shoulders—you don’t hesitate to be soft for him. no teasing, no resistance. just quiet warmth and your touch, grounding him instantly.

FOX! READER walks with grace in every step, always in loafers or thick-heeled shoes that click against the floor with quiet confidence. derek’s eyes track you every time. he adores your legs—always finding an excuse to slide his hand along your thigh, or press his mouth to the back of your knee when you’re curled up together. he’s obsessed with the necklace you always wear—the delicate chain resting just above the neckline of whatever low-cut shirt you’ve chosen—and he’ll trace his thumb over it absently as he kisses your throat, lazy and lingering. you’re quietly confident, showing it in the way you move and the way you speak—not cocky, just assured.

FOX! READER who lets derek carry all the jealousy on his own because you almost have none. you know where his loyalty stands and you’re sure no one’s taking derek from you. sure, you might give a hard glance to someone who’s getting a little too close, but you don’t need to say anything. derek handles it.

“thought she was gonna kiss you if you moved over an inch,” you say, amused as you lean back in your seat, eyes sharp. derek’s mouth twitches. comically, he shifts a little closer, arm resting along the back of your chair. “do I get a kiss?” you raise an eyebrow, lazy smile playing on your face. “sure you don’t want to try her first?” derek’s eyes darken, his hand sliding to your thigh. “i’m damn sure.” and of course, you give him that kiss.

work goes here . . will be filled soon!

asks are open for these two! read guidelines before submitting or i’ll just delete you’re ask lol.

[bunnirabbits]

not sure if i want nanami to be a super experienced older man who will take the reigns in bed straight away, or a poor, overworked soul who’s never gotten the chance to lose his virginity so i can hold his hand and stare lovingly into his eyes as he cums inside a woman for the first time.

[nesciobescio]

You'd think this was meant to be a christmas bk art but no i just love drawing khun in scarfs and this time bam managed to get in as well (figuratively and literally)

[s0bk]

made a latias guy last night.... he's perpetually irritable and grumpy and nasty :)

[wildemaven]

Date night with Javier

[dotssu3]

kyu kyu kyu NYA

[frerard-petekey-doubledate]

drew the demolition loversss

yes Helena's arm disappears in his chest, shhhhhhhhh dw about it 🤫

[snippet-z]

Reposting this here to have it in one place. I also corrected (most of) the spelling errors if you even care

***

Prompt: Royalty/Nobility AU

"You shouldn't be here," is what greets him when he comes to a measured halt in front of the iron bars. The sentiment remains incorporeal in the darkness of the cell, the moonless, cloudy night providing not a glimpse of light by sheer luck, or maybe divine intervention.

"Neither should you," he replies to the void, pulling the lockpicks from his pocket. Drugging the guards was easy enough, the old useless drunkards would down anything that smelled of alcohol, but stealing the keys felt a little too much like tempting fate; and he didn't need them anyway.

A scoff acompanies him as he touches at the bars, trying to feel for the lock. "It'll cost me my head if you get caught, you know," the voice sing-songs playfully, and it is so achingly familiar that for a mere moment, he feels like he might break down and cry.

"Your head is at risk either way if this doesn't work, so kindly shut up," he admonishes, but he cannot control how choked he sounds, the ball of dread in his throat swelling and suffocating him more and more with every passing second. He finally finds the lock.

A hand catches his before he can insert the lockpicks into the keyhole, moulding around his palm perfectly, as if the two of them were a matching set. "Edwin," the voice pleas, and that's more than enough to shatter the makeshift dam which was holding his tears at bay up to this point. He contemplates not looking up, but then again, this already feels too much like talking to a ghost -- and he doesn't want to think how close to the reality it is. So he looks up.

He cannot make out more than the silhouette in the darkness, a thin, razor-cut shape in the curtain of night, but he doesn't need light to be able to place all the missing features in right places - the almond-shaped eyes, the slope of the nose, the slight indent of the Cupid's bow which's taste he knows better than that of his favourite wine. No, he doesn't need anything, not when he's able to map out Charles's face with his eyes closed.

"My father won't harm me with Henry still missing in battle, he wouldn't risk losing a possible substitute when the crown prince is absent." The salt running down his face tries to glue his lips shut, but he soldiers on in spite of it, knowing that Charles needs to hear him even when the words escape him like startled songbirds. "I can't watch you die," he finally breathes out, and just like magic, the hold on his palm gives, and he can work the lock open.

It clicks softly when the latches fall in place, and jumps open easily, as if made of butter. He doesn't waste time, pulling at cell door, making sure it doesn't make a sound as Charles slips out. He closes it back, and then purposely drops the lockpicks right by it. He can feel Charles's confused look on him, so he just shrugs, hoping the movement registers in the dark. "For plausible deniability," he explains, entwining their hands together as Charles's knuckles brush his, "One can always blame the guards for not inspecting you thoroughly enough."

Charles snorts softly at that, letting himself be dragged along through the winding staircases and corridors. "You know I would've found the way myself, right? I've been a servant in this castle all my life, I probably still know more secret passages than you," he says at some point, light-hearted, and the tone of his voice makes some of the weight fall off his shoulders. "I know," he confirms, "But I need to make sure you're out safe. For myself."

Instead of taking another step forward, he stumbles back when Charles stops abruptly, pulling him into himself, their lips crashing together before a single thought can cross his mind. He doesn't hesitate to reciprocate, revelling in the way he now has to climb slightly to his tiptoes to better angle himself against Charles. His free hand needs no command as it buries itself in Charles's hair, pressing them impossibly closer together.

He wishes for then and there, just for a moment, that the two of them didn't have to breathe anymore, forever inseparable, living off of each other; but alive lungs burn and demand attention, and he lets go, breathless and flustered, hot breathes mingling in the sudden space between them. "Let's go," he whispers, taking a step back before he can make one more stupid decision under the cover of the night.

The treck under the castle is easy enough, twisting and turning, but quick if you know the way. They climb through the broken sewage crate, something he knows he should let the king know about in case of danger; unfortunately, the crack in the castle's defense keeps proving itself useful.

Marigold neighs softly when she sees them, and he shushes her and pats her flank before untying the reins from the rickety shrub by the passage -- more of a statement than an actual way of holding her down. He passes them to Charles, and in the now dim-light he sees his eyes widen in surprise. "She always liked you better anyway, he says by means of explanation, and kisses his cheek - for good measure, and because he can't help himself.

Charles doesn't protest when he mounts Edwin's horse, throwing his long leg over the saddle with ease, and whispering a greeting into the mare's ear, in a language Edwin knows he knows from his mother. The horse shakes her mane in delight, clacking her teeth and pawing at the ground, ready to go as if she knows she's about to experience freedom the likes of which she never felt before. It seems ridiculous, but Edwin can't help but feel jealous.

He takes the reins by her head, leading them away towards the less-known path through the forest, all the while battling his thoughts on whether he should speak up.

"What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours," Charles asks before he can make up his mind, once again proving that he knows him better than Edwin knows himself. He stops the walk, bracing himself for what he's about to do. When he turns to Charles, his gaze feels both searching and strangely understanding, as if he already knows what's about to happen.

"I know this is a lot to ask of you," he begins hesitantly, forcing himself to maintain the eye contact, "But if you were to find Henry, send him home... If my father gets his Crown Prince back-" his breath hitches again, the teacherous tears silencing him. He's about to turn away in shame, but a hand on his shoulder stops him, and although he can barely see Charles's eyes, the love he feels in them burns brighter than a thousand suns.

"I'll find him," Charles says, and there's confidence in his voice that Edwin doesn't feel himself. "I'll find him, and get him here. And then we'll run."

And oh, isn't this exactly what Edwin wanted to say, what he hoped to hear. He leans against Marigold's side, and Charles bends down to kiss him one last time. It's softer, slower than in the tunnel, as sweet as honey and as bitter as buckwheat, and much to short for the time he knows they'll spend apart. But it cannot last, because the night is coming to an end much too soon. He takes a step away, and Charles takes off without a word, as if any farewells would curse them for the rest of their lives.

Edwin turns around after the horse and the rider disappear in the forest. He can hear the first birds waking up, and he knows he has to hurry if he wants to lay the false tray successfully. So he gets to work, and he tries not to grieve, all the while, against his best wishes, he can still taste the goodbye on his lips.

***

Original post

[milfgyuu]

choi seungcheol is a youtube dad in the way that he would prop up the iPad against the bathroom mirror and try to follow the styling tutorials as he does his daughter’s hair. little baby rubber bands are popping and flying through the air as he tugs them between his teeth because he can’t let go of her hair or the braid will be ruined and when it’s done it’s a little crooked but she loves it and he tries new hairstyles every day just to get better at it and it’s sweet bonding time.

[fightingthetides]

This is a piece I commissioned for. Do not steal, do not edit, do not use, and do not repost. I was given permission to post this onto my blog. Okay to reblog.

Art by Heominlu from DeviantArt

Yamamoto Takeshi © Amano Akira

[madeinjapan-thailand-blbambeyond]

MADE IN THAILAND

Series: My Golden Blood (Episode 2)

GAWIN CASKEY

[Nickname: FLUKE]

WAY-AR SANGNGERN

[Nickname: JOSS]

[bunnirabbits]

i think nanami changing my cars tire and teaching me how to do my taxes would fix me.

[felassan]

.