to do something to his mouth

Ugh so I need to draw this at some point

But I have this fish mob and the mob boss is a big ol shark guy (some of you have seen Sergio, yes)

But basically him big

And he’s probably got grunts or lower ranked mob peeps that are generic fish guys or gals

I either want to do some that are willingly cramming themselves into his mouth for him to eat until he’s full and bloated– so much his shirt buttons pop off and he’s this groggy, fat, burpy mess.

Or he manages to pick up someone while he’s out at night, in a club or something.. brings them back to fuck them on those two giant dicks of his haha (if they can handle two??)–
But he gets a little too hungry and his brain goes shark mode and he
Fuckin eats them


angels calling

“there aren’t many people out there who would do what you’ve done for micah, vi,“ his eyes moved to her and he smiled, though she barely noticed. she was too caught up in the heaviness of his gaze to look anywhere else, “it takes a lot to raise a child, and a lot more to raise one that’s not your own. all you can do is do the best that you can and believe that things will work themselves out in the end.”

and it was the strangest thing, the fact that she had no problem believing he meant every word coming out of his mouth. but that was one of the greatest things about liam; if he said something, he meant it. he didn’t like to waste his time with anything meaningless, be it words, extracurriculars, or people.

which was one of the many reasons why she just couldn’t help but wonder why he kept spending his time with her.

a story about bad breaks, changing one’s fate, and being in the right places in the right moments.

coming soon to 1dff and tumblr

anonymous asked:

I just read an interesting meta about how Finn is treated as a damsel in distress in fandom and how when he is shown doing something like saving Rey or being "masculine," it is considered to Rey's detriment. I know you love Finn but you seem more of a Luke and Rey blog and I was wondering your take? I think Finn was very heroic and brave and I was surprised to read that a lot of fanworks seem to take away his heroism or reduce him to a wibbling mess who needs to be rescued by Rey or Poe?

I know exactly what you’re talking about. I remember I once got an ask mouthing off at the FinnRey fandom because this Superman AU made Rey a “damsel in distress.” It’s ridiculous to assume that Rey would never need help, especially since one of the biggest plot points in TFA was that Finn went back to RESCUE Rey. Even though Rey was able to escape her prison room, I have a tough time believing she would have made it all the way off the base without Finn’s help.

I often see the same thing whenever people bring up Jedi Finn. “But no! Don’t take away from Rey’s Jedi journey!” We’re not. No one says that Finn is supposed to REPLACE Rey as a Jedi, most of us assume they’ll both train under Luke. I feel like there is definitely some insecurity about Rey’s role that rubs off on fandom’s treatment of Finn, and it’s…not good.

But yeah, to close off, people seem to think that Finn being heroic in any capacity will take away from Rey, or they think that Finn’s a precious cinnamon roll who could never hurt a fly, and…honestly, it needs to stop. Finn’s a hero in his own right with his own arc, and I think anyone who disagrees needs to watch TFA again.
Blink and They're Gone - agent85 - Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Rating: G

Words: 6,500

Jemma’s leaving for a week, but that’s not what Fitz is worried about. He’s not even that worried about taking care of their three kids while she’s gone.

He’s worried about the boy his teenage daughter is crushing on.

When he turns the corner and sees his wife poring over a tablet, he rests the laundry basket on his hip and clucks indignantly.

“Oh, I see how it is,” he teases. “You ask me just to fetch something, but really, you want me to do all the work for you.”

If she heard him, the only sign she gives is the soft smile from one corner of her mouth. He notices that it’s not Jemma’s SHIELD-issued tablet, but the one he specifically designed to work three times as well and look like it was picked out of a bargain bin.

“Hang on,” he says with the point of a finger, “you’re snooping.”

Jemma looks up at him, absolutely scandalized. “I am not!”

“That,” he says, “is our daughter’s tablet. Wasn’t it just last week when you gave me a lecture on respecting her privacy?”

This earns him a full eye roll. “This is her school notebook. She wanted me to check her work before I left.”

“Yeah?” He crosses the room and puts the laundry basket on their bed, right next to her abandoned suitcase. “And what is it about a thirteen-year-old’s homework that you find so fascinating?”

She turns the tablet to show him, her smirk spreading into a full, ear-to-ear grin. Fitz is about to ask her what he’s supposed to be looking at when he’s practically blinded by it: a whole page full of hearts adorning names written over and over again.

Eli Bradley

Madeleine Bradley

Mrs. Eli Bradley

Dr. Madeleine Bradley

Fitz thinks he might be sick.

“She … she has a boyfriend?”

[Read it on AO3!]

inartibus  asked:

Gently places finger on the little 'blep' tongue. Pushes it back into the tiny babe's mouth.

THE HATCHLING had grown a rather peculiar habit over the last few days, forking their small little tongue out at random moments. It didn’t appear spurred on by anything, no reaction to any oddities that occurred, but it looked like a sort of ridiculousness only fitting for something so young. When it scampers after Ignis, hot on his heels once more, the small pink blep comes out yet again. 

The young trico perks their ears, quizzical gaze unwavering as Ignis tries yet again to dissuade it from such an action. It’s rude, it’s unbecoming ; for a moment, it appears as though the hatchling might actually LISTEN for a change. Yet the moment passes too soon and almost involuntarily, the small tongue peeks out behind a wide beak. 


On the crying

I didn’t see it mentioned so far, but it’s something I really liked in episode 7 of Yuri on Ice :

Yuuri is ugly crying.

His face is distorted, his mouth misshaped, his nose is all red, about to run (he even blows his nose after, like yes finally a tissue used for his proper purpose after crying, meaning blowing your nose, not drying your tears), he cries big tears and his voice breaks.

And he does it in front of Viktor. And Viktor just don’t give a shit about if he’s ugly or not while crying. His lover is crying and he wants to do something. It doesn’t affect his perception of Yuuri (he realizes stuff about Yuuri, but it’s not just the fact that he cries, but rather the reason of him to get so anxious).

And it’s important.

Remember in the first episode ? Yuuri crying alone in the toilet stall ? Not even crying on the phone when it’s his mom ? Drying his tears before going out to see Yurio ? Trying to be silent ?

And just in general, his tendency to isolate himself when he’s not feeling well ? (how he goes training outside during the japanese competition, how he avoids Viktor in episode 4) How he reacted when Viktor “caught” him having an anxiety attack in episode 3 after watching Yuri’s Agape ?

And then Yuuri let himself cry in front of Viktor. He was pushed over the edge, dead anxious, and Viktor’s awkward attempt at motivating him was the last strand. So he cried, which he probably hated.

But Viktor didn’t give a shit. Yuuri showed himself in all his vulnerability. That’s why we all like this scene, it’s because it’s really intimate. Yuuri is showing himself vulnerable in font of Viktor. And Viktor listen to him, understand him. And support him. He doesn’t take advantage of it, he doesn’t act any differently than before, he even pays attention to stay close to him (physically and mentally). And Yuuri feels better. It’s said that the cry helped him to feel better and release anxiety. And letting out his thoughts to Viktor while crying helped a lot. And Viktor doesn’t care about how he looked. Viktor saw him being at his sexiest, and at his ugliest. And Viktor love all sides of him. Viktor loves him whole, at his highest as much as his lowest (like come on he started to coach him when he was so depressed).

And it’s important. Both that they showed ugly crying because you don’t always look Beautifully Dramatic™ when you cry, especially in those situations where you’re falling apart from anxiety and stress. And then that he finally cried in front of Viktor, being vulnerable, and that it didn’t affect Viktor’s perception of him (no loss of confidence, no “you can’t do it after all”, nothing of that, even better, a “you’re stronger than I thought; I’ll stay by your side”).

Because now, Yuuri knows he can be “weak” in front of Viktor. He knows he has at least someone he can freely cry in front of. Someone he can show his vulnerability, talk about his fears, his insecurities.

And I think it’s so important, both for Yuuri’s character development, but also for their relationship development, and how healthy it is.

(Edit: not to mention an actual ugly crying is so much more realistic, heart-pinching, heart wrecking to me. It looks way more truthful, an actual expression of his feelings.)


Key: If I am anxious about something personal, I keep it to myself until I see Minho and the words just fly out of my mouth before I even notice. He doesn’t tell me what to do but instead he just hugs me and tells me that he’ll be there if I ever need him. Because of his words, I will always feel a little better after I talk to him. 


sterek week (2016 edition) ▷ day 4: Were!Stiles Blue Is Just Pretty by @malmao

Stiles opens his mouth a few times, like he wants to say something. He can’t at first, just shuts his jaw as his heart rate picks up at a steady pace.
Finally, he clicks his tongue against his teeth and says, “They’re blue,” with a little crack around the end.
Derek eyes his profile warily. None of the pack knew why Stiles had chosen to sequester himself in this room, but he’d had his suspicions. The teen doesn’t meet his gaze now. Just gives a little look up at the mirror then goes back to plucking at the denim of his jeans.

“Can I see?”

Stiles head snaps toward him, and Derek raises his eyebrows in silent response. He tries not to let his eyes flick down to the boy’s mouth out of habit. Fails.
He’s surprised when Stiles complies effortlessly. He always knew Stiles would make a good werewolf. He’s almost too good, picking up control like it’s a skill he’s had hiding beneath his bed.
Derek thinks of himself. Thinks of Paige. Thinks of being alone and heartbroken with blue burning behind his eyelids. Think of his mother crouched down in front him with her hard jawline and soft smile.
With his heart lodged behind his adam’s apple, he reaches out and rests his hand on the side of Stiles’ neck, his thumb brushing the turn of his jaw beneath the ear. Stiles’ eyes (still brilliant, glowing blue) scan his face. Right eye, left eye, mouth, and back.

“Still beautiful,” Derek says finally, “just like the rest of you.”

Little things Draco does that turn Harry on

-sticks his tongue partway out when he’s thinking hard about something
-twists strands of his hair between his thumb and forefinger
-puts his hands on his hips when he’s angry about something
-blushes incredibly easily
-sleeps in nothing but his socks
-mutters quietly to himself in French when doing things around the house
-chews with his mouth closed
-reads books out loud with his head in Harry’s lap
-hums along to records
-tries very hard not to laugh at Harry’s jokes and makes this twisted up half-frown/half-grin and Harry’s heart dissolves
-says Harry’s name during sex
-puts his hands on Harry’s cheeks when they kiss
-and his hair
-and his arse
-and everywhere
-Draco’s hands in general are indeed a huge turn-on
-smirks in response to almost everything
-says “I love you” like… a lot

first of all here’s yuuri’s serene unsweaty face 2 seconds before viktor opens his horrible mouth

umm viktor kissed his skate on international television meaning yuuri’s boot ≥ gold medal > silver medal I see right through you viktor. only the best of the best can touch that mouth #standards

oh no. yuuri knows exactly what’s coming you’re in public don’t do this,

where’s that leg going viktor… MEANWHILE PEOPLE ARE JUST STARING…

there’s no gold medal to kiss but I still intend to put my mouth on something, can you think of some other exciting place I could put it? also I’m standing between your legs while you’re bending over backwards and my huge ugly coat is conveniently shielding our crotches btw?

viktor has No shame so yuuri always takes it upon himself to have enough self control for the both of them. is it viktor’s mission in life to make yuuri’s job as difficult as possible? signs point to yes

please he’s pouring sweat… he’s struggling. viktor has no mercy.

“Jack, I need you to rescue me.” Bitty clutches his phone tightly, trying to keep it steady.

“Bittle? What’s going on? Where are you?”

Bitty looks out the door at the rain. It’s fat and heavy and he can barely make out the cars he knows are parked a few metres away in the lot.

“I was baking a pie, but Holster had finished all the eggs at breakfast without telling me. He’s done it before–finished the eggs, that is–but he told me last time. So I had the flour on the bench, and spices, and I opened the fridge and–because there was no note, Jack so–”

“Bits?” Jack interrupts. “I need you to do something, okay? For me?”

“Oh. Okay, Jack.”

“Great. Take a deep breath.”

The air is freezing at the entrance, with the doors opening and closing as other shoppers walk in and out. Bitty opens his mouth and does it anyway.

“Good job. Now slowly let it out.”

Bitty blows out and he swears he can see his breath cloud in front of him even though he’s inside.

“Once more,” says Jack, “then tell me where you are.”

In. Out. “Murder Stop n Shop.”

“Thank god.”

“What, why?” Bitty asks, confused and shivery as a gust of wind comes in. “Jack. That’s not good. It’s raining so darn much and I’ve got no umbrella and too many groceries. I can’t afford to let these things get wet.”

“Look to your left.”

Bitty turns his head to see–as best he can in this weather–the pathway leading to the store.

There’s Jack. Walking through the torrential downpour with a massive, blue umbrella, and his phone to his ear.

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Do You Feel It, Sugar?

Genre | Exhibitionism / Dirty Talk.

Pairing | Jeon Jeongguk / Reader.

Words | 9,123 words.

Conspectus | There is a ludic something about the eeriness of a scarcely inhabited train station on the cusp of midnight, where it invites dangerous intent, a yearning to break the rules of propriety. Such a parlous desire is made all the more worse when Jeon Jeongguk has his mouth at your ear and his hands where they most certainly should not be.

Warnings | Graphic swearing. Explicit sexual content. Name calling.

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Jack and Bitty actually coming out in the rain of red-and-white confetti after Captain Bittle leads Samwell to its first NCAA championship at the Frozen Four.  Bitty is on his team’s shoulders, exhilarated, when his boyfriend gains the ice.  

“Here comes 2015 Samwell alumnus and Providence Falconers forward Jack Zimmermann to congratulate his former teammates,” the ESPN commentator says.  Bitty leans down and shouts something in Chowder’s ear, and Chowder and Dex swing Bitty down to the ice as he reaches out for Jack.  

It’s not an easy landing–Jack’s shoes don’t have great purchase, and Bitty’s on skates; Jack reaches out to catch Bitty and Bitty does his best to stand upright as he glides and they both spiral a bit, clutching to keep each other upright.

And then it’s so natural, so easy, to do what they’d talked about, Jack’s mouth finding Bitty’s, the team triumphant around them, Samwell colours falling all around, until Jack sees a man coming with the trophy and has to break away, point his dazed boyfriend to where a carpet is being rolled out onto the rink.  Bitty, flushed and jubilant, has to go and accept it.

“I’m so proud of him,” Jack says later to the cameras, arm around Bitty’s shoulders.  “I’m so proud.”

I really want a scene where Stiles is waking up in the morning and he yawns and then the camera pans over to Lydia and she’s lying in bed next to him, asleep, her face illuminated beautifully by morning sunlight. But she’s doing something really goofy, like drooling on the pillow or she’s got her fist tightened into a ball near her mouth, or her hair looks like a rat’s nest.

And Stiles just looks at her with these soft eyes and smiles and slowly raises his shaking hand to count his fingers, breathing out a sigh of relief when there’s five.

anonymous asked:

D-dark RC... sexy headcanons about Victuuri's size difference??? o///o

According to the YOI wikia, Victor is 5′11″ and Yuuri is 5′8″. For reference, compare Valtteri Bottas and Marcus Ericsson in this height comparison chart of Formula 1 drivers. Theirs is a lovely height difference, because it puts Victor’s lips at the same height as the space between Yuuri’s eyebrows. All Victor has to do is step close to press kisses there, and it’s something he does often, but even sweeter is that he barely has to do any work for a proper kiss–just cup Yuuri’s chin in his hands, thumbs stroking the throb on either side of the curve of Yuuri’s jaw, and tilt it up. He’s dated and slept with people of all heights, has stooped to kiss them and felt the ache in his neck, has craned his own jaw up for mouths out of reach, but with Yuuri it’s effortless to just tip up his chin, part those lips beneath his, and take what he wants. 

And don’t get me started on their size difference. Like, look at this: 

Are you fucking kidding me. Look at Victor’s fucking wingspan. Look at how broad his shoulders are. You know he gives the best hugs; Yuuri finds every excuse in the book to be wrapped up in them. When Victor’s lying on the couch watching another episode of Would I Lie To You? on his phone, Yuuri climbs on top of him and just goes boneless, forcing Victor to sling his free arm around Yuuri’s back to keep him from falling off. Or when Victor’s in the kitchen and burning the kolbasa, Yuuri will wander in and force himself in between Victor and the stove, pressing close, burying his face into Victor’s shoulder while Victor holds him tight with one arm and tries to put out the inevitable grease fire with the other. 

But his favorite is when Victor holds him from behind. Since Victor walks on cat’s feet, Yuuri never hears him coming, so every single time is a complete surprise. It always makes Victor laugh–”were you expecting someone else?” Of course Yuuri’s not expecting someone else. It’s just that no one’s ever held him before–not like this. His brain is still scrambling to log in the feeling of a broad chest slotting up against his back like the final piece in a puzzle that’s taken years to finish; he’s still trying to compute what it feels like to be pulled in and wrapped up, safe, sheltered from everything in the world that could go wrong; and every time it’s completely new, because the muscles that should hold that memory have atrophied over the years. But someday Yuuri will be so used to it that, when Victor comes up behind him and slides proprietary arms around his belly and chest, he won’t even twitch. Until then, he’s more than happy to be surprised by and then melt into every touch.


Yuuri is all about big, comfy sweatshirts and collared shirts that hang off him, which means Victor can never find a shirt to wear because Yuuri’s stolen them all. Victor can’t even be mad about it, because there is nothing sexier than seeing Yuuri lounging in their kitchen, feet absently swinging where he sits at the breakfast bar, wrapped up in Victor’s favorite flannel while trying to translate the front page of Известия. 

Victor totally gets his revenge by stealing some of Yuuri’s shirts, which are waaaay too small in the shoulders and arms, and they all hug the valleys of his six pack in the most indecent ways. If he tries to reach for something in a cabinet while wearing Yuuri’s favorite raglan, it’ll ride up to bare all of Victor’s stomach. It’s unbearably hot and Yuuri can’t help the waves of lust that crash over him when he sees Victor in his too-small clothes. And while forcing Victor to take Yuuri’s shirts off usually leads to impromptu sex, Yuuri has to keep replacing them because Victor’s stretching them all out. 

“Mama,” Viktor whispers, tugging at her soft skirt. “Why is that man kissing her hand?” He points at the television, an old movie with a prince and a girl that has ash on her face and glittering shoes on her feet.

His mother pulls him closer. As she tucks the blanket around him, she says, with eyes soft and bright in memory: “It’s what you do when someone is precious to you.”

“I thought that’s what kisses on the mouth are for.”

“That’s different.” His mother runs a hand through his hair until he’s all warm and the snow outside fades. “You only do that when you really mean something, when you want to be with them forever. When they’re worth more to you than all the gold that there is in the world.”

Twenty-four years later, a bouquet of white daffodils rests on a gravestone. In its centre, defying a thin layer of snow just so, lays a red camellia. It takes four days until the gardener removes the flower, and finds the card.

Mama, it says, I understand now. You don’t have to worry about me. He didn’t kiss my hand back, but he put the only gold I ever wanted on my finger, so that’s fine with me. 


Helloooo! This is in celebration to my 4K followers, which I’ve reached today. New one shots will be coming very soon, stay tuned! Lots of love, B xx


Originally posted by prettylittlelarrie


Harry was in a mood.

You had first noticed it when you woke up at just about 8 am and found him lying on the living room couch, one hand resting atop his covered cock while he palmed himself in slow strokes that you knew would do nothing for him except work him up until he was painfully hard and feeling needy enough to come find you. A wank for a wank was always good, he said it himself, but nothing could beat having his cock buried balls deep inside of you - be it your mouth or your cunt, maybe both, mouth first, your cunt later, he’d always prefer you. But, when almost an hour later he still hadn’t come find you, you could tell there was something off.

When you emerged again, soft cotton t-shirt of his almost see through from how old and worn out it was being the only thing covering your body except the baby pink boyshorts you wore to bed the night before, Harry was still on the couch, eyes trained on whatever food channel he found, hand still resting atop of his now fully hard cock. The visual confused you - why would he, in a sane state of mind, tease himself to the point of being almost painfully hard just for the sake of it?

You can’t help but giggle when you see him giving himself a squeeze, wheezing when his thumb runs over his tip that was pushing against the loose fabric of his shorts.

“Oi! What are yeh laughing fo’?” He asks, voice breaking from the feeling of his hand on his cock but the sound of your laughter catches his attention and alerts him of your presence.

“Morning wood that won’t go down?” You ask, leaning over the back of the couch to bury your nose in oodles of curls, his hair finally long enough to form the ringlets you love oh so much. Your hand slips down his torso to slide smoothly and expertly along his shaft but he grabs your wrist in a quick movement, turning his head to the side to brush the tip of his nose against yours, eyes lulled and dark while he focuses on your lips as he tuts at you silently.

“No, love. Been waiting for you.” He assures you, smile curling his lips when your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his perfectly pink lips brushing against yours.

“Let me help, then.” You croak, twisting your wrist trying to escape his hold.

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okay so like imagine Sombra hacking into people’s mechanical limbs. McCree drawls “It’s High Nooooon,” prepares to take down a whole team, and then his arm begins to repeatedly smack him in the face

genji is continually running in the corner. face first, legs moving as fast as they can, just. sprinting into the wall over and over.

zenyatta can’t stop juggling. from his mouth, there is circus music every time he tries to talk

Junkrat’s limbs are definitely not computer run and i don’t think sombra could hack his leg but if she could get ahold of his arm, she starts making it do random shit, smack hog at random times, knock over cups and everything on tables, flip 76 off every time he opens his mouth

and no one, including Rat himself, notices something’s wrong

Amarte Es Un Placer (Part 13)

Summary: Soulmate AU. You and Draco share each mark, bruise, and marring on your skin. As life progresses and each mutual marking is worse, you grieve for your hurting soulmate. And he steps into your life when you least expect it.

Word Count: 2,297

Warnings: Light smut.

“Amarte Es Un Placer” Masterlist

A/N: Thirteen parts later and I don’t know when this will end lol. The smut is very brief, like 3 paragraphs. And not very explicit. I hope you all enjoy despite it!

Originally posted by zarb

A long, awkward silence settled over the room. Your dad kept his gaze on Draco, firm and unrelenting, expecting an answer. You could feel the nerves on Draco, his fingers tight around the eating utensils in his hands.

Draco opened his mouth to finally reply when your mom spoke up. “Dear, don’t do that to the poor boy. I’m sure it was something he did as a teenager,” she said, giving Draco a pitying look.

Draco gave her a tiny smile. “It’s not something I’m proud of, no. I regret it every day.”

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