psa: don’t light sparklers indoors

moodboard with only stock photos. a complete kingdom.

top left / middle / right / center left / middle / right / bottom left / middle / right

"Then eat." Said as though it was so bloody simple. “I don’t want to,” Sniper objected weakly, frustrated with the dishonesty of the confession and burying his face into Medic’s strong back.

happy birthday medic! a little romantic erotic implied/symbolic cannibalism sneak peak for my bushmed fic series.... text version under the cut!

He felt like he was going to explode. His heart pounded in his chest as it was pressed against Medic’s back and the sensation was driving him mad with wanting. Get a few bones and muscle matter out of the way and his heart would be pressed right up against yours. Sniper could feel their hearts beating in staggered, equally erratic rhythms; there wasn’t a moment of silence between them. Isn’t it funny, a few inches of flesh keep us from melting together? Your bones, my muscles, our blood. Not separated anymore, finally united. Free to touch and roam and mingle together, like we both want. “I know,” Medic hummed, sighing heavily as Sniper’s rough hands caressed his belly, waist and hips. Slowly, curiously, like they shouldn’t have been there. But they were right where they belonged. “But we know that’s not true, hmm? I’m here, aren’t I? With you?” Medic asked, placing his hands over Sniper’s and sliding them over his own chest, up to his neck, over his arms, one by one. Standing proudly, unafraid, with him. Under his trees, alone, with his hunger. “Feels gut, ja?” He asked with a whisper. Sniper was breathing hard between Medic’s shoulder blades, uselessly trying to hide himself from that tone of voice, trying to shrink away from the tenderness he was so determined to deny himself of. “‘Course it does,” Sniper croaked, pushing his groin against the back of Medic’s thigh in a pathetic attempt to put pressure on the throbbing there. “Can’t stop thinking about this, about you,” he confessed, running his palms over the doctor’s round belly, just under his breasts. His face was pressed so tightly against Ludwig’s back that his teeth gnashed softly against the doctor’s skin as he spoke. Sniper let out a content sigh and he could tell Medic was grinning. He couldn’t smother his hunger here. Not the one place he promised to set it free. “I can’t shake it… I’ve tried, honest I have, but I’m just so-”

when i rb'd my promo earlier i 4got it was using my old carrd oop.....

how i feel when someone reblogs my stuff with a really really nice tag

Al: Our daughter. 😎

(guy stuck in a timeloop) fuckkkkk i got yesterday tomorrow

a little self-indulgent comic :>

TAKADAA CHAAAANNN

Stellar death

hey who left this dirty big omelette here

Small collection of The Chicago Rat Hole saga

joke where tav is nonplussed to discover everyone wants them carnally except they're terminally desperate for attention and the sort of person who loves to take their shirt off in public

The real reason he was gone for seven years.

Talking about someone who uses multiple pronouns is so fun because if you use all of them you get a Tony Hawk Pro Skater combo