my cumber

anonymous asked:

Your sex scenes are beyond hot.

Oh my, thank you! *blushes & bats eyes*

I’d love to say it’s from a lifetime of extensive research, but alas, I’m afraid my heroines have been far luckier than I. But I’ve discovered that it’s never too late to learn something new–and having found my creativity reawakened, I look to My Constant Muse for inspiration. I mean, who could miss their mark when writing smut with

Originally posted by whenisayrunrun


Originally posted by elennemigo


Originally posted by easyriderhanson

in mind? My recipe:  a very healthy portion of Batch-inspired lust, dollops & dollops of eternally hopeless romanticism, set to slowly simmer until my laptop is ready to overheat, and viola! – served with an unabashed eagerness for my characters & Readers satisfactions.😀

‪✅ Jared Harris‬
‪✅ My Main Man Sam Neill‬
‪✅ My Boy Benny Cumber-B‬
‪✅ Old boats‬
‪✅ Top hats‬
‪✅ Shot in 2005 but looks 40 years older‬

‪Let’s do this‬

macgyvershe  asked:

can you recommend any Sherlock/BC/Martin blogs to follow? Star

hey there :-)

i don’t follow any martin blogs or sherlock-specific blogs; most of my followed blogs are cumber-centric and which include;

@rox712 @benedictc @benedictcumberbaatch @cumberbuddy @anindoorkitty @addignisherlock (lots of Sherlock) @rominatrix (lots of Martin, good gifs), @mas-sera-o-benedict @simpleanddestructivechemistry @benedictdaily @lichtblickpink @londoncallingsigh (lots of Sherlock) @sobeautifullyobsessed @cumberbatchlives @whenisayrunrun @garuda-dreams-of-rain @iwasthesouthernpansy (lots of things including Benedict) @poirott @cumberbatchitis @feelingflamesagain @lunadax

and i also run @cumbermalady which is BC getting traumatised in all his roles. it’s been running for four years now and… it is what it is :-)

Today Dream Believers - Week 1

Prompt 2: (AU or Canon Compliant)  Blaine and/or Kurt using cheesy pickup lines on the other.  For example, could be to seduce or being funny but can be whatever you’d like, wherever you like, whenever you like.

Blaine can feel Kurt creeping up towards him all the way from their kitchen.

Not that it’s going to make him look away from his béchamel–Blaine knows better than look away from the fucking pan now that he’s on his second attempt.

“Heey …,” Kurt says, and a quick glance lets Blaine know that he’s leaning against the doorway like some sorts of … exotic dancer.

“Yes honey?”

“Do you have a band-aid?”

Blaine is on high alert immediately. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“Sort of,” Kurt purrs, literally purrs, and what plane of existence is that fair? “I just scraped my knee falling head over heels for you.”

At least two seconds of complete silence stretch between them, and Blaine can’t help the very unattractive snort he lets out before returning all of his focus on the thickening sauce.

Keep reading

ironic-phan-of-markiplier’s 1k Follow Forever!

I remember when I was super excited about getting 69 followers, and now here I am having gained one whole thousand. I love and appreciate you all so much, and I’m so glad that you all found the random jumble of YouTubers and social issues that is my blog followable :)

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Enslaved by a Dragon - [Flashback #5- Wine and Destruction] - CumberSmaug Fanfiction

Chest pains. The little devil had faked chest pains and deliberately grabbed his hands and pressed them against her. It had been a struggle, but she finally released him. But not before she caught in his expression his painful awareness of her warm softness.

Cumber buried his face into his hands, trying to ignore the dull throbbing in his head and loins. A whole day he wasted standing under a waterfall, trying in vain to chill the flame that she had so carelessly ignited. And now it was night. The burning was unabated, and the dull haze that had filled his mind grew thicker by the minute.  

Her teasing could not have come at a worse time. The full moon was out, and the beast within would overtake him tonight. Smaug was a sick opportunist, and it would take advantage of his weakness. He was not certain if he had the strength to stop it.

“You can come out of hiding now,” Smaug rumbled from the treasure chamber. “Her eyes have gone dark.”

Cumber stepped cautiously into the light, and his heart wrenched at the sight of her.

Her lips were stained with wine, her eyes blank and swimming with tears.

“…Smaug said it would eat you,” she blubbered. “…It said it would tear you, limb by limb, unless I finished every last drop.”

“…And make her pick out your bones from between my teeth, I might add.” Smaug rumbled, a toothy grin stretching across its hideous face. “Such a good girl. So very obliging.”

“…It’s ok,” She whispers softly. “…I drank it all. You’re safe now.”

Guilt and bittersweet affection seized him, and he wrapped her in a tight embrace. She softened against him and her empty goblet clattered against the treasure. The dragon had made her drink too much. It always gave her too much.

But secrets had to stay secret, and she could not be allowed to remember.

“Is she not so much sweeter with the flush of wine upon her cheeks? Look how she shivers, how her pupils darken. She is a tasty morsel, she is.”

“Would you shut it?” Cumber growled irritably. “It’s bad enough you’ve frightened her so. She would have drank the wine without your threats.”

Thick, black smoke curled from Smaug’s nostrils in amusement. “But what would be the fun in that?”

“…Monster,” he spat.

Smaug laugh’s boomed across the hall, and mounds of treasure shimmied down his colossal form. “No. Tonight, you’re the monster.”

It pulled itself from the gold, spreading its wings like a monstrous bat. Brilliant blue flame curled around the dragon like fingers, enveloping it in a fiery grasp before swallowing it whole. She wailed fearfully, and Cumber clasped her tight against him, shielding her from the blast of heat.

In the ashes of the dragon stood a man with dark, unruly hair, with high, chiseled cheekbones and an angular jaw. He was a splitting image of Cumber. But of course he was. Cumber and Smaug were one and the same, a single soul split in two. One a dragon, and the other a man. Until the moon swelled in full, when the the pull forced them to switch forms for the night.

Smaug dusted the ash from his shoulders and strode forward. He stretched out his arms and back, refamiliarizing with the muscular flesh of the human form. He cocked his head to the side and beckoned to him.

“My turn to hold her, don’t you think?”

Cumber narrowed his eyes and held her tighter against him. “…What do you want with her?”

Smuag snorted. “Night after night you fill my dreams with her. And you ask me what I want?” He stepped behind her, running his palms along her waist. Startled, she turned to face him. She frowned in confusion, looking back and forth at Cumber and Smaug.

“You fill my dreams with carnage and death. Yet you do not see me ravaging villages every full moon.”

“That is because you are a coward! I do not fear my urges, I indulge them! That is why I am the dragon, and you are the weak, pathetic little meat bag who can’t even tend to our needs properly!”

“…I do tend to our needs properly.”

“You think I do not feel the constant ache in your loins, the fluttering in your heart? If you refuse to let me eat her, at least allow me to fulfill one of my needs.”

Cumber felt flame curl in his throat. “Is it not enough that we massacred her family!” He seethed. “You would have us take her innocence as well?”

“I recall her willing. More than willing, in fact.” Smaug ran his hand slowly along her neck and down her shoulders, enjoying how she shivered under his touch.

“She does not know who she offers herself to! I should have stopped you. I should have-”

“-As if you had the strength, you puny, miserable thing. You barely have the strength to stop me now. I feel the density of your mind. You are slow. Stupid.”

“…Cumber,” she breathed, looking dazed from staring between the two them.“…There’s two of you.”

“No,” Smaug murmured, pressing his body into her so she was sandwiched between them. “You’ve had too much wine. There’s just the one.”

She flushed slightly. “…I…don’t mind… having two…”

“…You don’t mind having two, when you haven’t had even one?” Smaug purred in her ear, his hands grazing down her back. “You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you.” She shivered, and leaned in against Cumber. Her body molded to his, soft and supple. He could feel her arousal through her thin cotton dress. She was so soft yet firm. Just like this morning. His innards stirred guiltily. Smaug gently grazed his teeth along her neck, and she trembled. She looked up at Cumber with eyes dark with wine and lust.

“…Touch me,” she whispered. “Please?”

His mouth was dry, his head pounding uncontrollably. He reluctantly pulled himself from her, taking several steps back.

“…I can’t.”

Smaug smiled slyly and took her hands in his. “…Show me how you want to be touched.”

“Don’t-” Cumber’s eyes widened as she slowly guided his hand between her thighs. Smaug’s breath escaped him in a soft hiss.

Cumber wrenched his hand from her. “Have you no shame? Do you not recall how we’ve wronged her?”

Smaug amber eyes were gleaming. “…You feel how drenched she is,” He whispered. He raised his fingers and brushed her nectar across Cumber’s lips, then leaned over and lapped them from his lips. “…Delicious, isn’t she?”

“…Control yourself.” Cumber growled. Smaug threw his head back and laughed.

“I do as I please. And this…” He slid his hand between her thighs, lightly grinding against her desire with his knuckle. “…Pleases me.”

She mewed and leaned against him, her back arching at the friction. Cumber grabbed her shoulders and tried to pull her away. She wove her fingers through his hair and pulled him close. There was fire mirrored in her half-open eyes as she kissed him. Her lips were sweet and ripe like summer cherries. Her fingernails were digging delightfully into his chest. He felt the blood drain away from his face; the hunger he had tried so hard to repress reared its ugly head.

“Do you think she touches herself, thinking of us?” Smaug traced his ring finger lightly along her slick heat. “In the dark of the night, small, delicate fingers curling, exploring…” His finger slid into her heat, coaxing a moan from her throat and into Cumber’s mouth.

“…Sweet, muffled cries breathed into her pillow. The scent of her desire soaking the air…”

Cumber shook his head slowly. “…Would you…shut up…Please.”

“…So deliciously tight. Ripe and desperate to be plucked…”

Cumber uttered an involuntary cry, and Smaug snickered. Her hands danced down to his waistband, tracing precariously near his growing desire.

“…Don’t do that,” He choked, although he could not bring himself to stop her.

“…But it’s…not…fair,” she whimpered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “You’re…touching…me…”

“You selfish bastard,” Smaug hissed. “You would deny me pleasure?”

Cumber’s breath caught in his throat as her fingers grazed slowly up and down the length of him through his trousers. Both man and beast shuddered at the sensation. His mind was thick with smoke. With every slow friction it was getting harder to think. He had to. Make her stop. But the jolts of heat. Running up and down. So very. Welcome.

He choked out a sob as she slipped him free.

“…What are you doing?” His throaty protest rang hollow in his own ears.

“Taste him,” Smaug breathed in her ear. “Until he melts in your pretty mouth.”  

She pushed him down with surprising strength. And suddenly all he saw was red. Dark, delicious red that shivered through him in waves of scorching electricity. Her hungry little mouth lapping and suckling, her throat humming with desire. He gripped her hair and tried to pull her off him. But oh god her lips. Her tongue. His eyes rolled back and a deep, guttural groan escaped him. Slippery, wet heat curled about him, blinding him with smooth, tight friction.

Where had she learned how to-

How did she know-

He was slipping away, further and further into the tantalizing flicks and swirl of a deliciously nimble tongue. Her hair was bunched in his fingers as he guided her to take him harder, deeper. Smaug was behind her, his fingers slow and steady, his eyes boring into Cumber’s with a hazy victory. She cried out, her legs shaking under the growing weight of her climax. Cumber felt that deep twist of boiling pleasure inside him, the pent up glow of white hot tension building like fire ready to erupt from a dragon.



He jerked away from her. The agony of guilt twisted with unfulfilled desire was worse than death. But he was unraveling, flames flicking at his flesh, consuming him whole in unstoppable voracity. He saw the blinding terror blossom in her eyes and overtake her in a bloodcurdling scream as she saw what he was becoming.

If she ever comprehended the truth of who he was, what he was. He would lose her forever.

His wretched guilt and self-loathing erupted from the depths of him in a stream of fire. And then he was growing. Stretching. Wings shot from between his shoulder blades. The human gave way to leathery skin and iron scales, monstrous limbs like ancient trees and claws like deadly meathooks. From the ashes of the man, rose the dragon.

She was unconscious; the wine and fear had been too much for her. Smaug threw a jewel-crusted helmet at him irritably. It glanced off his scales harmlessly, and Cumber flicked him away. He curled his tail around her protectively.

Tomorrow, she would wake remembering nothing.

[posted 2.23.14]

booboo-macsnoody  asked:

Hi Dusky. I'm not really in your fandom but what's your take on all the drama?

hello! thanks for question…. sorry this is a bit of a long answer and obviously highly subjective but it’s a topical question so *cracking knuckles*….

a lot has happened in the Benedict Cumberbatch (and sherlock) fandom in the past 6 months it seems to me.  it’s complicated… but note an important proviso here is that most of the drama pretty much just happens on the weird Petri dish that is tumblr. BC is doing pretty spectacularly well in the public eye apart from a few minor hiccups, really. And also social media tends to act like a foghorn so those who speak the loudest can supersede what the majority actually thinks…  

anyway; like all communities & fandoms fractures appear over time (i.e. sherlock season 3 had already created some fandom divisions). but i think there has been a much more vicious & embittered backlash from some ‘fans’ following benedict’s engagement at the same time of the onslaught of the weinstein-driven TIG campaign. 

BC suddenly went from perpetually single and the “internet’s boyfriend” blah blah to engaged, father-to-be with a very elegant, and a somewhat reserved partner in Sophie. their relationship was kept very private and i wonder whether some fans felt they weren’t “introduced” to her i.e. they weren’t seen together over months or years like he was with olivia… (i have to confess i was completely unprepared for the engagement announcement; but my wiser cumber-tribe saw it coming…)

and then around same time the juggernaut weinstein campaign sees a flood of BC in articles with an obvious cliched predetermined agenda of making fun of BC’s “cumberbitches” *yawn*. apart from one or two kind of brutal statements (i did get a bit stung by the “florals” statement and a few other careless comments from BC) in my view benedict said nothing untoward; it seemed to me it was pretty much the unrelenting angle taken by the journalists. 

some people reckoned BC also looked tired and unhappy fueling rumours of BC being caught up in a fake or shotgun engagement based on nothing but skewed analysis of pap shots and red carpet snippets etc. as far as i could see

there’s also been some speculation about his relationship with martin freeman exacerbated by a cursory SH spesh setlock, a sherlock hiatus that seems to stretch on forever and (in my view) some unfortunate tweets from amanda abbington re. martin not being best man at BC’s wedding, etc. 

so you can kind of see these circumstances make easy ammunition for people who in my eyes have been hurt and a bit thrown by such a rapid change. some people seem to have been consumed by resentment and have worked incredibly hard to put it all these things together as cataclysmic stages in a conspiracy. which to me is at best laughable and at worst… well…. tragic. 

personally i just saw someone who was working incredibly hard and trying to meet all his obligations, doing a lot of travel to service the TIG campaign and had obviously taken the importance and obligation to honour turing’s memory to heart and (it seemed to me) focused on the weight of that message in interviews rather than the frivolity seen during hobbit / sherlock junkets etc.

i also see someone who seems to be trying to keep a hugely significant part of his life private while at the same time conceding he is a highly public figure and has to be accessible to a degree that i cannot even begin to fathom. (i was there at Sydney when he said god help anyone [mostly paparazzi] who go after his family and that’s what i have been seeing in the past few months… a profound and at times introverted person trying to live up to daunting obligations while protecting his new family). 

to me though the most important thing in all of this; is that i and most of the fandom know… nothing. it’s not our business to know because it’s his private life; one that he has asked repeatedly to be respected. i follow BC because he is one of the greatest actors and storytellers I have ever encountered. and he is fucking beautiful. And once i started to follow him; i was also delighted to discover that he is also a man of great profundity, infantile humour, integrity, impulsiveness and seems to have an almost existential sense of joie de vivre.

i also see a complex man trying to walk a line between the public and private and in doing so inevitably failing to follow some people’s personal narratives…

i hope this helps. and that you are still awake. ;-) xxx