Jesus Christ I Definitely Have A Thing For Dark Jensen Now 🥵

News Anchor in my area loses it over a Fat Cat that likes to swim.

Just sending you some love, Dibs 😘

Also, imagine being seated between those thighs on a nice summer day *swoon* 🥰

How did I miss this ask? 😳 I love ya Carly 💞

But yes, sitting between his legs would be absolutely divine. Drabble time!

+++++

You were a scorned woman, set to marry the Prince. You were bred to rule beside a man, raised for the Crown. Hands unmarked of any labour, dress ironed and laying perfect over your figure and your virtue intact; you were the vision of a proper lady who would one day be a Queen.

The winds of scandal were sudden and took your life by a storm, ravaging your reputation and life in one fell swoop, and you were ruined. The woman who would have lived in a castle became a name whispered with suspicion, pity and scorn.

Sherlock did his best to save the last shreds of your dignity, proving your innocence and worth to the society. But a fallen woman is not easily raised, and your dreams of being a Queen were dashed away.

You didn't know what to do with your life then, having no further need of royal etiquette lessons. You found yourself leaning on the one man who had promised to salvage your image. He was witty, sharing the details of his cases that took your mind away from your future that seemed shrouded in fog.

Carriage rides, walks in the park, you didn't know when it happened when you stopped thinking before taking his hand and resting your head on his chest. His strong arms seemed to be the only thing holding you together.

You figured that he looked like a Prince too, with his curls fluttering in the summer breeze as he watched you approach him under the tree. His pipe was smoking and you felt jealous of it for it felt those sinful lips over it way more than you did.

"What are you thinking?" He asked you, offering you a hand and bringing you down to sit between his thighs. Strong muscle surrounded you, and his eyes pierced you like sunlight through rolling clouds.

"Don't you already know, Mr Holmes? They say you know everything." You whisper, bringing his pipe to your mouth and blowing smoke on his face. He smirks, holding you close and nuzzling your neck.

"Your mind? Yes. Teach me to read your heart." He said.

You shifted to look at him, your beacon of light that parted the clouds that surrounded you. His lap felt a way more worthy throne than the one in palace would have.

"For you, my heart is but a mirror. You'll only ever see yourself there."

+++++

Wtf, this is disgusting and completely unnecessary. Let the animals be, can’t we learn that hunting for sports is not something that is okay PRINCIPALLY when with animals that need to be protected?

Hundreds of lynx to be hunted in Sweden following biggest ever wolf cull

Conservationists condemn latest cull as ‘trophy hunting’, while hunters admit it is ‘about the excitement’

Sweden has issued licences to hunters to kill a total of 201 lynx, weeks after dozens of wolves were killed in the country’s biggest wolf cull in modern times.

The number of licences to kill lynx throughout March, issued by Sweden’s country administrations, is more than double the number in recent years.

The planned cull is out of all proportion to any danger to livestock or people, say wildlife conservationists and activists, who are asking the EU to take action against Sweden for breaching environmental law.

“This is a trophy hunt, just like going to Africa to hunt lions,” said Magnus Orrebrant, the head of Svenska Rovdjursföreningen, an animal rights advocacy group that has started a petition calling for the trophy hunting of lynx to be stopped. “Hundreds of foreign hunters come to Sweden for lynx hunting because they think it is exciting.”

Conservationists warned last month that the lynx population in Europe could collapse unless immediate efforts are made to protect the animals. Tests on the remaining cats in France show that their genetic diversity is so low they will become locally extinct within the next 30 years without intervention.

There are around 1,450 lynx spread across Sweden, about 300 fewer than 10 years ago. Naturvårdsverket, the Swedish environmental protection agency, argues that the country needs only 870 animals to maintain a healthy population.

The Swedish hunters’ association, Svenska Jägareförbundet, admits the lynx do not pose a danger to humans. Henrik Falk, an adviser to the association, told the Guardian: “The hunt is absolutely not linked to any danger to humans. Neither is wolf hunting – there are no documented cases of wolves attacking humans in Swedish modern times.

“The lynx hunt is more about the excitement, and for some hunters, of course, the skin is the motivation.”

Lynx, like most other game animals in Sweden, are hunted using dogs. The EU Habitats Directive specifies that hunting may be allowed either to prevent damage to livestock or in the interests of public safety.

It is “strongly questionable” that either of these conditions applies to lynx in Sweden, said Benny Gäfwert, a predator expert at the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWF). “We do not think the hunters can invoke these exceptions, and we have notified the EU Commission,” Gäfwert said.

“That hunting occurs, we do not, in itself, have a problem with, but the extent to which it occurs in relation to the low damage caused by the lynx is unwarranted.”

The WWF is also challenging Sweden’s explanation for its ongoing wolf cull, Gäfwert said.

Historically, lynx have ranged across Eurasia but have come under intense pressure in many countries from habitat loss, inbreeding, poaching and traffic collisions. In Britain, calls to reintroduce lynx to the wild were rejected last month by the environment minister, Thérèse Coffey.

Conservationists point to the role of lynx in controlling Sweden’s large population of deer, moose and boar.

The lynx hunt in Sweden is taking place during the mating season when their fur is thickest, making it particularly attractive to hunters, said Marie Stegard Lind of anti-hunting group Jaktkritikerna. “This is completely unnecessary – a pure trophy hunt,” she said.

READ. EVERY. WORD. OF. THIS. Account of a medical team out in St. Paul last night.

Link to original tweet thread.

Hazel Scott playing two pianos at the same damn time with ease

Autumn in the Scottish Highlands

ellisreed

I wouldn't mind help conditioning his beard

Conditioner

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word count: ~500

Warnings: Smut! Explicit sexual content, oral- woman receiving, dirty talk, explicit language (must be 18+)

Summary: You help your boyfriend with beard care and it leads to much more!

Continuar a ler

Wouldn't mind playing laser tag if it ended like that

Laser Tag

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,664

Summary: You play laser tag with your boyfriend Steve and his best friend Bucky. Since you’re just a plain ole civilian, you gotta use what non-Avenger skills you have to avoid losing. Hint: those skills involve Steve and kissing.

A/N: Look, I just want Steve & Bucky to be happy and do fun things, okay? So, this is obvs AU, and I regret nothing ;)

“Why do I have to wear purple?” you scowled over at Bucky.

He laughed, looking entirely too smug in his red vest. “Red’s my color, crybaby,” he said, gripping his bright red gun like only an ex murderous assassin could.

“And I can’t not wear blue,” Steve said, fastening the last strap on your vest. He wasn’t even being gropey, which made you pout.

“You guys are taking this laser tag thing waaay too seriously,” you huffed, glaring at Steve as he readjusted your grip on the purple gun until you held it properly.

He gave you his ‘aw shucks’ grin as he stepped away and pulled his own gun from across his back. “Every man—“

You raised an eyebrow.

“And gal,” he quickly added, “For him or herself, okay?” His smile slowly faded and was soon replaced by Captain America in the Field face.

Continuar a ler

I did not knew I needed this but I definitely did. I’m such a whore for the way Ari is described 😭

How do they kiss you to break your last line of defence?

Andy Barber

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Steve Rogers

Ah, I see you woke up this morning and chose violence 😡 Hahaha I looove this ask! I’d happily sell my soul to smooch any one of these babes. Or all of them. At once. 🫠 Okay, now I’m distracting myself lol. Let’s seeee…

Andy is gonna do that thing where he gently—carefully—cups your face between his big hands. He’s gonna duck close so his eyes can lock on yours and you can’t escape his intense, penetrating gaze. So you can see his desire for you shining from those baby blues of his. He’s gonna move slow, too, not only to draw it out and give you a chance to really resist if this isn’t what you want, but because there’s something about the anticipation. He wants to hear your breath catch. He wants to see the surrender in your eyes just before they close as his lips touch yours. His mouth on yours is somehow soft and frantic at once. You can tell he’s trying to rein himself in but as soon as a soft whimper bubbles up from the back of your throat and you’re clutching at his sides, it’s game over, sis, and he switches to devour mode 😮‍💨🤌🏻

Ransom’s move will be a tiny bit similar to Andy’s in that he’s cradling your face in his hands, but it’s nowhere as soft. He’s propelling you back into the closest wall, eyes twinkling at your quiet “oof.” His hands hold you tight because he’s not gonna give you that chance to escape. You’re his and this is happening, and he’ll make sure you like it, that you beg for more. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna throw in a, “You’re mine,” just before his lips close in on yours, and then he’s gonna kiss you fiercely, kiss you breathless, kiss you until your knees are buckling and you’re finally giving him that whimper as he licks his way into your mouth and makes sure his flavor is staining your tongue for a good, long while 😏

Ari is gonna use his considerable size difference compared to you to his advantage. He wants you to be hyper aware of him but at the same time, he’ll have the softest touch ever. Backing you into a piece of furniture and pinning you there. He’s quiet, which is a rarity for him, and emphasizes the intensity of the moment. He keeps his movements slow as he raises a hand to your throat. He doesn’t grip it though, instead he gently drags his knuckles down the smooth column, lips quirking just a bit when you shudder in response. Before you’ve full recovered from that solitary touch, his thumb is brushing along your lower lip, his hungry gaze fixed on your mouth, and then he’s gonna lift his eyes to yours and maintain eye contact as he slooowly closes in until his lips touch yours. That’s when he finally makes a sound, a relieved groan, the kind of deep, carnal sound that makes your pussy clench, and before you know it, you’re kissing him back just as urgently.

Steve is gonna pounce on you in a moment of feral passion. He’s done talking about why this is a bad idea, especially when the thought of it feels so right. He’s gonna sweep you up against him, one thick arm locking around your back as his other massive hand cradles the back of your head and keeps you in place for a thorough devouring. The kiss starts hard, but when you mewl into his mouth and cling to his shoulders—give into him—he slows it down, his touch growing softer at your surrender as he hums against your lips and deepens the kiss until you’re melting into his embrace and proving what he knew all along - you were meant to be his.

(Thank you for cumming to my horny TED talk 😅)

Geralt can admit that it isn’t his greatest escape plan. But being pushed back towards the waterfall, there are few other options for him and Jaskier to escape alive.

Rocks tumble over the side into the rushing white waters. Geralt sneers at the edge. He should have known what the angry mob was doing. Should have guessed it. Stupid. And now, Jaskier and himself are standing at the world’s edge with no where to go.

No where to go, but down.

Geralt looks towards the trees, can already see the crowd of 30 gaining on them.

“Geralt, think of something, will you!” Jaskier’s voice is a shrill thing in his ears. But the  is a cover. Fear wafts off of him, though less so than an average human.

It is this reason that he grabs hold of the bard and throws the both of them over the cliff.

Falling from this height is more terrifying than Geralt anticipated. There’s hardly any control he can take. Jaskier is screaming beside him. It lasts a moment, barely an instant, before they plunge into the icy cold water.

The world around him spins. There is no sense of direction. No up or down. His only tether is to Jaskier, whom he refuses to let go of. He will not lose him in the rush of the river.

It’s a fight to the surface, with his armor and his friend, but there have been more difficult battles. The next problem is swimming to the damn shore, but the rocks are slippery and Jaskier refuses to help. Though, he may be in shock.

He’ll deal with that later.

Finally, he pulls them both ashore. Geralt gasps for air, more out of panic than anything else. For a moment, all he can do is lay on his back and look at the sky. His gaze shifts from the bright blue of it to the top of the cliff. There are no signs on the angry crowd. He can’t properly hear them with the rushing water. Even if they were to come after himself and Jaskier, they will have plenty of time to make their escape.

“Jaskier,” Geralt calls out. They should dry off. Get going. Figure out a plan on how to get their belongings back. He turns his head to the side, waiting for the oncoming flood of complaints.

Silence.

“Jaskier.” He sits up, discomfort and discombobulation forgotten. Silence rings in his ears. The bard is always making noise. Singing, humming, tapping. His heart beating. But now, his lungs are quiet in the orchestra that makes up Jaskier.

Geralt scrambles over to Jaskier’s side and turns him over. His head lolls. But he’s still alive. His heartbeat, weak as it is, is still thumping. There’s still time to fix this. Panic, alien and intrusive, has to be pushed down and away.

There’s a trick Geralt learned many years ago in Skellige. Something about… pulling the water from someone’s lungs. He’s never had the use for it before now. Tries to remember all of the specifics.

He tilts back Jaskier’s head, pries open his mouth, pinches his nose, and then leans down to breathe air into his lungs.

Geralt can see from the corner of his eye Jaskier’s chest rise and fall with each breath. Does that mean it’s working? He continues regardless. (This can’t be the end.) Almost dizzy from lack of oxygen on his own, Geralt raises his head and takes a deep breath before returning to Jaskier.

It’s with this shared air that Jaskier finally sputters to life, turning to his side and expelling river water. He coughs violently, his voice rasping. Relief floods Geralt. He is going to have to thank Crach an Craite one of these days.

He’ll have to visit Skellige again. (Go to the coast?)

Now that Jaskier is okay, Geralt has little idea what to do with his hands. He places one on Jaskier’s shoulder. Runs his thumb back and forth in what he hopes to be a comforting motion. “Jaskier?”

Jaskier rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. Taps his fingers against his chest. Breathes. Then, “Did- did I-” Another cough. “Did I imagine things… or did you just kiss me back to life?”

Geralt removes his hand from Jaskier’s shoulder and frowns. “That is not what happened.”

Jaskier, the bastard, opens a single eye. Shining with mischief. Geralt wants to wipe that smirk off of his face. “So you didn’t put your mouth on my mouth?”

“That’s not how that works.”

“True love’s kiss, what a beautiful thing!”

“Jaskier.” Geralt looks away, unable to withstand the joy Jaskier is exuding. “We have to go.”

“Truly, Geralt, I wasn’t sure you had it in you. And here we are! Me, alive and… well, not kicking yet. You may have to carry me. Or, oh! Why not kiss me again? If one kiss brings me back from the brink of death, surely-”

“Jaskier-” This is neither the time or place to talk of… such things. He takes a deep breath in slowly. “Just. Shut the fuck up.”

-

more geraskier