knitmyheart



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  1. Public Bookmark 94

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    There's a wagon parked in front of the farmhouse, with a guy standing behind it; as he draws closer, Patrick squints against the sun to see him better, and he registers three things all at once. The first is that the guy looks really young - around Patrick's own age, maybe. The second is that he's shovelling grain or something out of the back of the wagon, wielding the heavy shovel with ease, like it weighs nothing at all.

    The third is that he's, well, topless. And wearing nothing but a pair of dirt-stained jeans slung low on his hips. Like, Patrick can see his abs and v-cuts even at this distance. The dude's biceps are literally rippling each time he lifts his shovel, gleaming with sweat in the summer sun.

    Patrick's mind manages to pull up a fourth item: he pretty much looks like the hot lonely farmer in every hot lonely farmer porno his teenage self has ever watched.

     
    the one where jonny's a farmer, patrick's still a hockey player, and, well, you know the rest.

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    07 Oct 2018

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  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”

    “If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”

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    05 Oct 2018

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    Crying laughing omggggg

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Bucky starts to believe in a vengeful god on May the twelfth, year of our Lord two thousand and fucking eighteen, because that’s the day he makes fun of Clint Barton for carrying around a dainty little packetful of tissues in his pocket and honking into them like a congested donkey every fifteen minutes. “Fucking polleb,” Clint swears, wiping at his watering eyes. “Fucking claritin. Fucking zyrtec. Fucking bastards, all of dem.”

    “What’s happened to your pokeymen now?” Bucky asks distractedly, not looking away from where Natasha is very slowly setting the last Joker on her vast, exquisitely balanced house of cards.

    “Dat’s not - dey’re not pokémon,” Clint says, aggrieved. “Dey’re drugs. And dey don’t work for me.”

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    05 Oct 2018

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    AHHHHHH the one where they make fun of GOOP ahhhh this is the best

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    "That's the beauty of this stuff," the salesman said, tilting his head toward the display Bucky had been looking at. "Nobody knows what you're keeping under your clothes. That's between you and yourself."

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    30 Sep 2018

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    Steve goes so hard for Bucky that he becomes a licensed, practicing massage therapist.

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    29 Sep 2018