Frank Grillo photgraphed by the Riker Brothers
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

JBB: An Artblog!
art blog(derogatory)
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KIROKAZE

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@strikerumlow-archive
Frank Grillo photgraphed by the Riker Brothers
Going to turn this page into an archive, and give my other blog the same url (since I'm attached) (and once I can get on the computer to change it)
GUESS WHO HAS COMPUTER TIME?!
COME BOTHER BROCK OVER HERE
The traumatized are unpredictable because we know we can survive.
- Bedelia Du Marier (via kuraudoh)
Okay sit your asses down and be prepared to get schooled.
That is massively helpful! Thank you darling!
strikerumlow replied to your post: i still dont know about alpha and omeg…
im in the same boat (hides)
like i see it on my dash and i’m just like ‘pups? knots?! heATS?! ARE THEY WOLVES OR DOGS OR SOMETHING?’
i read this massive Oliver/ Slade fic about the same thing and they kinda just go into it, but nothings explained... --i want the origins.
"Steve, it’s me, Bucky."
"Who the hell is Bucky?"
8) I said I’d paint him and I did.
Jack finishes wrapping the smallish box and tops it with a small bow. Inside rests a pink collar that he'd found - it was a perfect match for his set of lingerie. He gathers up the extra wrapper and puts it away before returning to the couch to wait for Brock to return home, eager to have him open the box and let Jack buckle the soft, pink leather around his throat.
Brock isn't gone long and can't help but smile as he sees Jack seeming to wait for him on the couch. "Miss me?" He purrs, leaning forward to kiss him lightly only to stop short. "What's that..?" He looks oddly at the box...
Everyone who reblogs this
EVERY SINGLE ONE
Will get a shitty 1 sentence fanfic in their inbox determined by your recent reblogs
So if you reblogged Kevin Tran and a dalek recently
YOU GET KEVIN/DALEK ROMCOM FANFIC
If you just posted some Sherlock and Hannibal
THEY HAVE A DANCE OFF MOTHAFUCKAS
Shitty fanfics, at your door, no questions asked.
Reblog away!
When I say shitty fanfics
I mean shitty fanfics motherfuckers
bring it
giveaway commission for libby!
If ever I needed to take refuge in SebStan tongue gifs…today is that day.
The best part is…these are only maybe 1/3 of the available gifs of Seb doing things with his mouth that make us very happy.
"Winter? What are you doing with Brock's heels?" Jack asks while hiding a grin.
"Brock’s heels..? Was wondering who the woman was living with you…" He furrows his brows and looks at them closer. "They are kinda big… What the hell am I missing?!"
Jack kisses him back. “Do you want to tell him how you started? I didn’t tell him any of that.” He’s going to let Brock tell Winter if Brock wants to, it’s not his place. He puts the beer into the fridge and wraps his arms around Brock.
"N-Not yet Jackie, might ruin the surprise." He muttered with a small smirk as he looked over at Winter. "I'll go get dressed, you take Winter and go make yourselves comfortable." He grinned as he placed a kiss to his lips, and then walked off, his finger stroking under Winter's chin as he did so.
△
Somehow our characters get into a playful wrestling match. Send me a △ and my character will react to feeling yours has become… excited.
"Sir?", he cleared his throat. "I’m flattered but I don’t think, training’s the right time."
( strikerumlow )
Peter sat up and looked at his master. He supported himself with his hands on the ground looking up. “Did I say something wrong?” He wasn’t used to such a defensive behaviour. He slowly got up and looked at the few people that quickly looked away again.
One of them men grabbed Brock and pushed him back in the ring, the words about his pet asking him a question ringing in his head, and slowly, he shook his head, coming to sit before the other again. "I-I like fighting, sparring... winning." He muttered quietly as he grasped the other a little harshly by the chin. "I am pleased my pet." He smirked, it never registered to him as odd how easily his mood shifted.
[Text: Brock] Got a large mirror put in. Want to have you in my lap. Facing the mirror. Taking me in as far as you can.
[Text: Jackie-boy] Fuck Jack that’s hot. [Text: Jackie-boy] omw over… God you have no idea what that text did to me…
Jack gives him a cheeky grin when Brock mentions having to ride with an erection. “What would the point in getting a small mirror be?” Jack says as Brock begins to trail bites and kisses down his jaw and neck. He drops a kiss onto Brock’s hair. “So, ready to put it to use?” He cups Brock’s ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
Brock shakes his head, more so at Jack then the question though, before he shrugs. "Y-Yes." He gasps, he's excited and feeling shy, but he wants this, and he leans up and against Jack slightly just to put his ass out that much more. "Can't wait for you to take me apart... turn me into a mess." He mewls as he presses another hard kiss to Jack's lips
eyes, fingers, metal arm, boots
Pefection
"Brock Needs A Guardian Angel"
As his eyes flutter open, The first thing he registers is the gun in the man’s belt. It is unlike any weapon he’s ever seen and his first instinct is to recoil…but he can’t. It hurts. His back burns like he’s been filed down raw with sandpaper and his limbs are stiff and brittle. Pain shoots through him and blood bubbles up in his mouth as he tries to move.
Instead, he focuses on the man before him. Kind eyes encased—imprisoned—in hard features, tense and muscled. He reaches up a hand to touch the man’s chiseled chest, and something shoots through him. Need. Purpose. His reassignment. This man needs him, but why? Perhaps, he thinks, he needs this man too.
"You’re my mission…" he breathes. It hurts to speak. His hands caress the man’s face, tracing the scar on his cheek before his arms start to ache and he goes limp in the man’s arms.
Brock can't help but stare into the other's eyes for a moment as he carefully lifts him into his arms, it's not long before something hot and wet registers in his mind as blood and he knows whatever he's witnessed, or thinks he has, it's a lot worse.
"You really couldn't have fallen from the sky..." He mused out loud, though quiet, and mostly to himself as he tries not to concern himself with the hand on his chest, or the one tracing the scar on his cheek, no doubt, one of the many he had from escaping the hospital after being engulfed in flaming wreckage...
The words hit him like a jack hammer... he's heard them before, though they weren't intended for him, and it was once a philosophy and it kills him, the worry and pain aren't very well hidden behind his eyes, but he does not cease from bringing the male to the bed of his truck.
He knows better than to show up at the hospital with this man... Him showing up himself would turn everyone's radars on as well. --"Going to do for you what I can, alright?" He mutters quietly, he's got a decent kit as far as first aid was concerned, something he out together himself after being sent on one to many screwed-up missions.
cameoutofabottle replied to your post “just in case anyone was wondering [[MOR] —firstly, sorry i havent...”
*hugs* Hope things get better for you soon hun.
(hugs tightly) thank you darling, me too <3