#also they way he had to bend all the way over...

[livelaughlovesubs]

Head empty, only thinking about my fav’s creaming on my fingers.

It was such a nice way to get him all horny and messy for you in public, without too many risks. All you had to do was sneak your hand past his waistband, down that soft ass and inside his underwear. Next thing on the list was to tease that pretty boy and watch him stutter during an important conversation. His nails dug into his palms, face heating up as he fake coughs, trying to cover up his gasps as he excuses himself. Glaring at you but not slapping your hand away~

Or in some random bathroom stall! Make him bend over with his hands on the door as you fuck him on your fingers, purring at him to stay quiet if he doesn’t want to get caught. Calling him a dirty pervert when he fails and moans out loud. You say that, but you are obviously the one who wants to get exposed! Just to see him cry out of humiliation… even so he can’t stop begging for more while pushing his hips back ♥︎

Though it wasn’t only fun in public. It was also a spectacle when he’d straddle your lap, arms wrapped around your neck in a deadly grip. Those kiss-swollen lips right next to your ear while he whimpered for you to fuck him harder, to please put it in. Teary eyes with a dazed look as you made him cum the third time that day with only your fingers. Mocking him for being such a needy whore, creaming all~ over himself like some virgin. How much longer were you going to overstimulate him?

Maybe if you are feeling extra mean, you’d make him finger himself on your shared bed. Sitting in front of him and watching as you gave him commandos. Telling him to spread his legs more, to push another finger inside, or to beg more lewdly. At first he was so shy, so hesitant to show you all these embarrassing parts. Yet after some time he couldn’t think of anything else but the heat in his core, the need to be filled and fucked until he forgets his name ♡♡～

Wet squelching sounds echoing through the room as his whined out prayers reached your ears, hearts in his pupils and fingers knuckles deep inside his abused hole. He felt so tired, his eyelids so heavy, as if he was on the verge of passing out. A melting expressing plastering his blushing face, with glossy eyes and shiny tears. His body was trashing around, squirming and shaking with pure desire. And that useless dick was squirting with his precum. At the same time, he was begging you with such a sweet and debased voice. Pleading for your dick, and for you to absolutely wreck his insides.

“Please, plea~se..! Hnnghhh, I need you so bad, so- ahh♥︎ so fucking bad…! Ngh, f-fuck me, ruin me ♡♥︎♡”

Your favourites~

[gold-onthe-inside]

a pearl

who? spencer reid (post-prison) x fem!reader based on: a pearl by mitski (and also pearl diver also by mitski) written for: @mggslover's event lyrics: “You’re growing tired of me. You love me so hard and I still can’t sleep/Sorry, I can’t take your touch. It’s not that I don’t want you.” word count: 0.9k content warnings: mentions cat adams, reference to addiction/drugs & sobriety

He stared at the flickering flame in the living room, knowing he’s left your sleeping frame upstairs, and rubbed the sobriety chip between his thumb and forefinger, and he remembers the moment he had fallen in love with your smile, a warm saccharine thing that had brightened your whole face when he tried to pull a coin from behind your ear, but it hadn’t worked, only for you to find it in your pockets. He hasn’t made you smile like that in a while. Not in 3 months, 20 days, and 14 hours. Not since Cat Adams had made it her mission to ruin his life, and yours along with him. This year had just been the tip of a long-building iceberg of issues that you kept having to put up with because of him.

And sure, things were okay now. His mom was in a good home in DC, always a call and a drive away. They had gotten his murder conviction overturned. He was supposed to be safe. Then why did he feel this uneasy all the time?

He’s so lost in himself, the firelight reflecting in his soft and worried hazel eyes, that he doesn’t hear you coming down the stairs, doesn’t see the cute donut pyjamas that usually make his heart melt, and physically flinches when you touch his shoulder, the chip in his hand falling to the floor. “Sorry,” you said instantly, “I didn’t mean to… You just weren’t in bed, I wanted to make sure you were—”

“I’m fine,” he said, a little too sharply, and usually, you’re better at controlling your expressions, but it’s 2 in the morning and you’re tired, so the concern is visible on your sleepy face.

“Honey, you don’t seem fine,” you said softly, approaching him like he was a skittish horse.

He let out a breath, bending down to pick up the sobriety token, while you wait and watch him straighten. “Can we not do this right now?” he asked, sounding tired, and he can see your concern deepen, adding another wrinkle to your brow, the corners of your lips turning down. He can see the battle that rages inside you every day, every time he acts like this — do you confront him? Do you put your foot down like you had all those years ago when he was coming to work while in withdrawal? What would it take for you to finally retaliate?

“Okay,” you said, in your gentle but firm way, looking at him evenly. “Two choices. We sit here and talk, or you come back upstairs with me and get some sleep. Either way, I’m not going back up without you.” Your arms come up to cross against your chest in what you think is a firm, decisive position to take, but Spencer’s sorely tempted to smile at you, and then his heart sinks all over again. It must have come up on his face because your arms start to fall and you walked over to pull him to sit next to you on the couch. “Sweetheart, will you please just tell me what’s going on with you?” you asked, and you think your heart might crawl out of your throat when Spencer pulled his hands away from yours.

“It’s nothing,” he said, and you can see his body closing off, all your work to bring him out of his shell, to coax him into the sunlight, vanishing like smoke. “Everything’s, you know, it’s fine. The team’s fine, my mom’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Which means it’s only a matter of time before things aren’t fine again,” you said, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “Right?” You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t felt it too — the panic in the middle of the night when he’s not there, the reminder you have to give yourself that he’s not in prison anymore, that he’s safe.

“I’m so tired,” he told you, his eyes falling to your hands, where you were gripping each other for fear of reaching out to him again. He was tired of waiting to get the phone call saying his mom was gone. Tired of the nightmares. Tired of feeling afraid in a house that was supposed to be his refuge.

“Sweetheart, you can’t rest when your body still thinks it’s on the run,” you told him gently.

“Then how do I get it to stop?” he asked you, a hint of desperation rising into his throat, causing his words come out more broken and shaky than he meant for them to, and it just made his chest ache more.

You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his and cupping his cheek, feeling the light stubble on his jaw. "Stay here," you whispered. "In this moment. You and me. Nothing else."

“In this moment,” he echoed, his voice soft and quiet, barely more than a whisper. “You and me, and nothing else.” A hint of a smile spread across his lips, and you pressed a butterfly kiss to the corner before laying your head on his shoulder while he slid his arms around your waist. You don’t move, just eventually shift so you can both lay on the couch, the fire dying out into embers as he finally fell asleep to the rise and fall of your chest.

[farfromstrange]

@fairydust022 (Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason) thank you so much for your request! I’m sorry it took so long, but you gave me a lot of leeway with this, so I wasn’t sure what to write that you might enjoy until I ultimately settled on just very ‘I love you so much my heart bleeds for you’ morning sex. That’s my favorite kind of daisies and roses bouquet. I hope this is at least a little like what you were hoping for!

Over a Cliff

Event Masterlist | Matt Murdock Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x AFAB!Reader

Request: A bouquet of… peonies, daisies and roses

Warnings: Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, morning sex, neck-holding (not choking), lots of tooth-ache inducing talk about love, fluff (but the deep, emotional kind)

WC: ~740

The air you breathe is heavy and tainted with the scent of sex. Blood rushes through your veins at hypersonic speed, so thick it sticks to your insides like super glue. His heart hammers against your back, syncing with the erratic rhythm of your own, and with every thrust of his hips, he melts into you like hot iron.

Matt reaches for your hand, his calloused fingers so gentle against your sensitive skin. Your fingers disappear underneath his, intertwined fingers tangling in the silk sheets.

You could write sonnets about how the morning sun caresses the thirteen freckles on his nose, or how his hazel eyes sparkle with just the slightest hint of forest green. You’re no poet, not even a writer, but he makes you want to put all of your feelings into an anthology. How he feels, how he sees you in a way that exceeds his lost vision, how he puts his palm against your chest—right there—to hold your heart in his hand when he makes love to you, how he kisses you with those plump lips you once could only dream about as if you are the only source of air that sustains him; he loves you so deeply, so wholeheartedly and unconditionally it is beyond scary, and yet it consumes you. From your head to your toes, his love consumes you.

Teeth scrape the nape of your neck, over your pulse point to your earlobe, and you let out an almost desperate moan. He used to fuck you harder than that. He used to bend you over and force an indentation of your naked body into the mattress. And he’d do it, probably, if it weren’t eight in the morning—if you weren’t still half asleep and so fucking needy for each other that he couldn’t help himself but have a taste of his favorite angel. Because that’s what you must be, an angel of the lord. There is no other way someone as good as you would ever choose him, someone he often claims is a lost cause, even if that’s not what you see.

“There is no me without you,” you once said to him. He was bloody and bruised then, head tilted up at you like he couldn’t fathom why you stayed, why you were still staying. “Let me love you,” you begged, “because you deserve to be loved, and I am right here. So, please...”

And against all odds, he did.

When you look at him, you see a man who’s been broken. A man you’ve had the pleasure of putting back together. And a man who knows better than anyone to destroy you in a way that leaves you aching for his cock for days because that’s how he loves you.

Matt loves you with fleeting touches, when he puts his head on your chest, when he hugs you, and with your fingers intertwined, but he also loves you just like this, with his cock so deep inside you that you’re sure you won’t be able to walk the next day.

He moves at a pace that’s almost too agonizingly slow, his cock nestled comfortably inside your wet cunt. He pulls his hips back, about halfway, then thrusts back in. It’s like you were molded to accommodate him. His thick, veiny cock, the very object of your pleasure whenever he takes you like this, fills every inch of you like he was born to do it. “I love you,” he whispers.

You squeeze his hand, once for every word you utter, “I love you.”

His thrusts falter. “Don’t leave me.”

The vulnerability in his voice makes you crane your tired neck to look at him. His unfocused eyes are squeezed shut, and he damn near shudders when you reach back to tangle your free hand in his tousled locks. “Never,” you whisper.

You made this promise before, and you intend to keep it.

You’d die for him. You’d live for him. You’d go to the ends of the earth for and with him, and you would follow him over a cliff if that is where the road leads him.

As if reading your thoughts, he drives the point home by thrusting back in. The breath dies in your throat where his hand now comes to rest. He feels your pulse, the vibration of your vocal cords as you moan for him, and he continues to hold you like the unwavering pillar of strength he is as you fall apart, writhing—crying—on his cock.

[starpoweredv1b]

lamb to the slaughter

tw. fem pov, spanking, legal age gap, dub-con, predator/prey-ish kink, blood kink (?), degradation, rough and painful sex, size kink, choking, tba

thinking about bestfriend's dad!sylus and how he's very strict but has a soft spot for you because you make his angel so happy but also because of the way your curves look in those clothes you like to wear, the way you looked at him through your lashes when you spoke to his way taller self, and especially the way you yelped or whimpered.

don't get him wrong. he loves strong women. his wife, his kid, they're all strong women. but you? you scratched an inner primal part of his brain that wishes to break things. the one that makes his heart race when he has someone's pulse in his hands as they beg for their life. his pretty little lamb. god he wanted to mark your pretty skin and cover you in blood. rip you apart into shreds as you cry all pretty and unravel beneath his touch.

so when the ultimate opportunity of all opportunities presented itself in the form of his wife being away on a work trip and his daughter being sound asleep during your sleepover with her, sylus got his big break. he was seated on his couch, fingers swirling a glass of his favourite wine to aerate it when you descended down the stairs.

now anybody else would be wearing less revealing clothes when sleeping over at someone's house especially when their dad was home. but not you, his sweet little naiive lamb. you were there in your pretty shorts showing delicious skin. skin that he would love nothing more than to sink his canines into. maybe lap up the blood when the skin breaks. the vein in his clenched jaw twitched.

his red irises trailed your form as you stumbled all sleepy to his kitchen, tiptoeing to get a glass on one of the higher shelves. the one with the cute cat print on it. the one reserved for his wife. your audacity was truly something else. the way your shirt rode up your skin, exposing tantalising slivers. he finds himself standing up, adjusting the bulge in his slacks as he walked towards your unsuspecting form.

"the guests' cups are in the cupboards."

he says in that smooth drawl of his, fingernails tapping the side of his wine glass before he sets it down. he had a lazy smirk, an eyebrow cocked as he scans your form the way a wolf would from behind the fence when they see lambs. sweet, delicious, lambs.

"s-shoot, sorry mr s! i was not aware of that!"

mr s. what a stupid nickname. but coming from you, he found it amusing if anything. cute, even. he waved it off dismissively.

"it's quite alright, little lamb. you just incurred your very first strike."

you looked at him all wide eyed and parted lips. unsure of how to even respond. a strike from the infamous leader of the onychinus during a sleepover with his daughter was not something you could have prepared for in any way. you could see the way his pupils dilate and ate at the reds of his iris. you swallowed softly, instinctively stumbling away from his tall imposing figure only to end up dropping the cup. the shattering sound pierced through the tension.

"and that's two strikes."

he says with your chin between his forefingers, held in a firm grip. that was how you found yourself bent over his office desk, your own panties stuffed in between your teeth as he spanked your ass, watching it go taut with each swat of his belt. it was beginning to darken, fat droplets of slick beginning to roll down the sides of your spread legs from your inner thighs. he wondered how translucent your panties would be if he were to remove your shorts from where it pulled and latched around your ankles.

"you're doing surprisingly well, little lamb."

he taunts, leaning over. his stiff bulge pressing against the curve of your ass as he bends over to whisper against the shell of your ear.

"that's very unfortunate...for you."

he says before delivering a sharp stinging blow to your wet pussy, the loud squelching sound resounding in his spacious office mingling with your pained grunt. he clamped his fingers onto your scalp, tugging your head back to give you a mocking forehead kiss as he licks your tears.

"the faster you break, the easier it'll all get..."

he whispered before nipping at your ear lobe. with both your hands held behind your back by his larger ones and your thighs kept apart by his long muscular legs, you felt him free your head only to unzip his fly. he swiftly secured his belt around your neck. the buckle's tightness just shy of lethal, leather pressing on your throat as he yanked it backwards to make you look into his eyes.

"it's going to hurt...but you'll take it for me won't you, little lamb?"

he says in that drawl of his. as if all he was asking for was a simple favour and not to spear you open on his fat cock that nestled between the zipper of his slacks. tip leaking with pre as he slides it over and over between your slick folds. with a firm tug that almost cut off your breathing entirely, he thrusted into you in one fell swoop. the tip of his cock nudged against your cervix and the stretch made you cry out. your knuckles began to whiten from how hard you were gripping the edges of the table. he gently tucks away your hair with small cooing tuts before thrusting inside again.

you began gasping for air, the panties in your mouth and the leather around your throat doing little to help. your fingers began to scramble at your neck, desperate for air. for mercy. he groaned at the pathetic sight, going impossibly faster and harder. you could feel him rubbing the back of your navel from how your lower tummy pressed against the table edge. your vision began to turn spotty with fuzzy black dots and your eyes began to roll.

"so tight- hff- maybe next time i'll have to carve out this pussy to hng- make space, hm?"

his threats and brutality made your traitorous body grow wetter. his groans and grunts of pleasure only spurred you on even more. you've never been treated so roughly before. your whole body rocking with the table, both of which would surely be left with marks all over. he reached down and pinched your clit harshly as he released the tightness around your throat.

you gasped, the rush of unrestricted air into your lungs mixed with the sharp pain making you double over as you coughed. weak spurts of your cum sputtering out as you clenched around him. he groaned as he pulled out, cumming all over your bruised ass. he was panting as he rubbed the cum into your stinging bruised cheeks, giving them a firm squeeze before letting you stumble to the floor right on where it hurt most.

he felt the same rush of power that usually came before a kill. you looked so beautifully pathetic, snivelling and crying at his feet with your legs all splayed out and his cum staining the backs of your thighs. the sight of your puffy pussy made his cock twitch against his stained slacks. had it been just the two of you, he would have fucked you over and over. made you bleed and beg and wail beneath him. but sylus was a patient man. he could wait until next time.

he carried your weakened form onto his table and handed you a napkin. you watched through your tears as he tucked his still hard cock away and zipped up his pants, white hair sticking to his forehead from working up a sweat. he tilts your head back and poured some wine between your lips, eyes tracing where it dribbled and seeped into your shirt.

"there, that should help with the soreness."

he says simply before setting the glass down once more. he leans in, lips ghosting over your bruised ones as he traced the side of your jaw.

"until strike three, little lamb."

[ssour-apathyy]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ between moonlight and you

caitlyn kiramman x reader, tooth-rotting fluff! very brief mention of blood, kissing, reader gets a small injury, use of y/n

word count; 1,249

summary; a routine that you aren't mad about starting: being snuck into Caitlyn Kiramman's bedroom

a/n; oh to be a young woman in the arms of Caitlyn Kiramman. also "hot chocolate" is what brits call cocoa (?) just an fyi. warm chocolate drink. that thing

The night air was cool and crisp. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the city of Piltover. The streets were unusually quiet, save for the occasional passing of an enforcer on patrol.

The Kiramman mansion was large and imposing, and there was once a time that it would send a chill through your body, and a twist in your gut. Recent events, though, had resulted in the building causing your stomach to flip for a different reason.

You had waited by the tall, imposing fence for what felt like hours now, your heart thumping wildly in your chest every time an enforcer got a little too close, causing you to dip behind the pillar. You squinted up at the moon, checked it's position with your hands, and made your move. The bars were a little slippery thanks to the dewey air, but you were becoming a seasoned pro at scaling the metal. Slinging yourself over the top, you winced a little as one of the spikes caught your thigh, tearing your pants and nicking your skin.

You let out a little hiss as you landed, quickly checking the damage before moving forward, re-tracing the all-too familiar path in your head. You dipped into a small space between two perfectly sculped hedges just as two enforcers passed by, waited 10 seconds, and continued on your way.

Once you got to the spot below the window, you took a little pebble from out of your pocket and threw it, the stone bouncing off the glass with a quick tap. You waited, and waited, shuffling your feet a little awkwardly as you glanced around to make sure the coast was still clear.

The sshhhhtt sound of the window sliding open caught your attention, and you looked up to see Caitlyn peering down at you. "You're late" she whisper-yelled, arching an eyebrow.

You gave her a sheepish grin, gesturing down at the torn material. "I had a... uh, mishap."

Her eyes gave you a once-over before she rolled them, a smile taking over her face as she leaned away from the window. She was only out of view for a moment before the makeshift rope-ladder cascaded down the side of the building. You grasped hold of it and ascended, taking hold of the hand she offered to help you inside.

She moved quickly, pulling the ladder up and sliding the window shut, the room falling into a comfortable silence after the soft thud of it closing. The room was dimly lit by the lamp to the side, the grand marble pillars causing long shadows to dance across the walls. The first time you entered it was intimidating, but now there was nowhere that you felt more comfortable.

You were drawn out of your thoughts by warm hands sliding around your waist, settling to wrap across your stomach. You smiled to yourself as Caitlyn hugged you from behind, resting her chin on top of your shoulder. "I missed you" she confessed, her voice soft and hushed.

You breathed out a soft laugh, leaning yourself back into her touch. "You saw me a few days ago" you teased, resting your hands over the top of hers and tilting your head to look at her.

She mirrored your movement, her nose brushing against your own as she turned to look at you. The look in her eyes made your breath hitch in your throat, the air growing heavier — as if the entire world had shrunk down to the space between you. Her eyes traced over your face, drinking you in as if she was committing every line and bend to memory, and in that moment — you felt infinite.

"A few days is too long" she murmured, lifting one hand to cup your face and softly drag her thumb across your cheek bone. She tilted upwards, and your eyes fluttered shut as she pressed her lips to the space between your eyebrows. It was sweet, tender, and caused every muscle in your body to relax as you basked in her affection.

She took a half step back and grasped your hand tightly in hers, pulling you with her as she led you to her large bed. She maneuvered you to sit at the end and knelt down in front of you, moving your leg to the side slightly so she can take a look at where the fence caught you.

Her eyebrows creased as she spotted the small dribble of blood, and she delicately swiped it away with her thumb. "Are you hurt?" she breathed out, the warmth from her palm seeping through the material.

You shook your head. "No. S'just a scratch" you mumbled, cupping her cheek with your hand and drawing her gaze back up to you with a soft smile.

Caitlyn slowly surged upwards and took your bottom lip between her own, kissing you with such softness that it caught you off guard. You held her face between both your hands as you flopped backwards against the soft sheets, pulling her with you as she took the opportunity to crawl up your body and settle herself on your waist.

The way Caitlyn kissed you was intoxicating. It was slow and steady — assured — like you had all the time in the world and there was nowhere else that she'd rather be than with her lips on yours. It was full of hunger, but not the hurried and all-consuming kind that you'd often find associated with foreplay, no. There was no expectation here. Kissing you wasn't just a gateway to something more, Caitlyn would happily spend hours like this, slotting your lips together like they were designed to fit perfectly.

She pulled away from your mouth to pepper kisses across your chin, pressing her lips to the underside of your jaw as you let out a breathy laugh. She mimicked your sound, pulling away from your skin to gaze down at you with a sultry smile, slowly leaning back in to—

Knock Knock Knock

Caitlyn pressed one finger against your mouth and bit her lip, sitting back up on top of you.

"Caitlyn" her mother's voice echoed through the solid doors, and your heart pounded in your chest as you prayed to Janna that they didn't creak open.

"Yes?" she called back without a single waver in her voice. It was always impressive how she could switch on when she needed to, as if she wasn't straddling a girl that she had snuck into her room, and wasn't just inhaling your soul through your mouth five seconds ago.

"There is hot chocolate ready for you downstairs, come and get some before it gets cold" Cassandra called out from behind the, thankfully, still closed doors. It was quiet for a moment, and you thought maybe that she had already left.

"and there is a spare mug for your — friend — too" she added, before you heard her footsteps fade down the hallway.

It was like slow motion as Caitlyn turned to look back down at you with a gleam in her eyes. Your lips were parted below her finger, eyes as wide as saucers as you choked out a disbelieving laugh.

"Nothing gets past that woman" she grumbles, her lips quirking upwards. You let out another soft laugh, firmer than the last, and she follows you down into a fit of giggles. Both of you laughing together, as she moves her hand from your face and leans down to kiss you again.

[peachesvault]

Water and Scars

Hero!Bakugou x Retired!Reader

He was used to this. The floor slightly scuffed where he stood everyday silently after he got back from patrol; completely enamored by you. You; blissfully, unknowingly dancing your heart out in the large home studio you got custom built, jumps in the air, rolls, leaps, breaking. You lived and breathed dance, movement was a part of your soul, and it never failed to completely enthrall him.

The way you moved so effortlessly, completely bending and spinning at speed and angles he couldn’t think of, almost waterlike. Like the river water swirling through rocks, carrying fallen flowers down the stream to a dam of twigs and sticks, the flowers gathering over time; an offering at a shrine, praising you, your beauty.

He won’t lie, sometimes it scared him, after all, nobody he knew could move so fluidly, he would have thought it impossible if not for you. Ever after you retired from your job as a pro hero, he always seemed to be scared for you, for hurting yourself; yet times like this remembered that you were ever so capable in whatever aspect you desired.

Retired. That's right. Once, long ago, Bakugou would have looked you in the eyes and broken up with you just for retiring after injuring yourself; it was unfathomable to his past self that any job apart from being a hero had any worth whatsoever, a waste of time. Yet you had breathed life into him, Captivated and lured him; siren-like. He couldn’t fathom leaving you, and after all his experiences he was grateful to have met you in the cramped UA classroom all those years ago.

He fell for you long before he asked you out, because you just lived. You lived so.. real. So authentic, so much like you were truly favored by the gods. Your work ethic, your empathy, your love; he was forever lucky for you.

You both had fought in the war together, side by side when death seemed inevitable. The both of you holding your heads up high and looking it in the eye as you fought, vowing you would end this war or it would end you.

You also were there for each other, together. He remembers those days, the days when after the war you would both sit in the showers fully clothed, drenched to the bone, your foreheads touching as you cried, laughed, reminisced. It pained him to remember those particular nights, ungodly hours of holding you in his arms as you sobbed in pain from old injuries, insecurity washing through you from your scars, and he remembers when you did the same for him. Just two unfortunate people helping each other through the aftermath of the impossible.

The impossible; what a funny concept. They didn't believe in you until you did do the impossible, but they didn't care after, letting the heroes carry the trauma and burden by themselves, only happy that they didn’t have to live in fear; no fucks about the people who lived the fear.

It never stopped you though. You kept the fire burning in you, decades after the war as you kept fighting and protecting the people of Japan. Until last year that was.

Last year, a particularly brutal villain attack; shattering your arm. You were fine now ofcourse, he wouldn’t accept anything else. But you decided to take yourself out the industry, you had done your part, and now it was your legacy for people to hold themselves up to. That's what you told everyone, but he knew you; you were the love his life, of course he did.

He knew it had to do with the fact that you disliked the industry. Even after everything that you went through, you had seen the truth of the industry and how heroes were treated. He saw how sometimes your eyes would gloss up while patching him up after a particularly rough villain attack, even if he pretended he didn’t. It was quite endearing actually; during the war, you had been so numb to any suffering, you had told him to get the fuck up and fight, you had popped his leg back in, ignoring his pained yells. You, a force to be reckoned with. Angry waves ruthlessly beating the rocks littering the coast. You had done so much for everyone; it wasn’t fair to force you to keep fighting.

That's why he supported you when you decided to retire, why he stood his ground and defended your name in rooms you weren’t in, why he loved you, why he watched you dance every day after patrol in secret.

Well not really. You always noticed him - you had been the top hero for the better of two decades; it would be shameful to your legacy to not know your surroundings. Yet you always stayed silent, putting on a show for Bakugou when he looked especially sad. You knew he was being transported somewhere else everyday while watching you, the way his eyes glazed over, and tears pricked at his waterline. But just like he didn’t mention when you cried you didn't either.

Sometimes you wondered what he thought about. Did he think about the same memory everyday? Or was it something different each time?

It didn’t matter. If him watching you ‘secretly’ doing what made you happy made him happy, you wouldn’t mind indulging him and putting on a show.

Tried to keep a water theme! How did I do?

DO NOT COPY OR POST ELSEWHERE. REBLOGS AND LIKES APPRECIATED

Taglist (Open!):

@pretty-sparkle-bomb @tlissablr @matteglaze

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

For Mr. Trein,

What would happen if he met a Tsum of himself?

Special character and staff Tsum series continues...? [ Tsum!Rollo headcanons / Crowley meets his Tsum!self / Tsum!Crewel headcanons / Tsum!Fellow and Gidel headcanons ]

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Trein first came across the Tsum when Lucius came home with it clenched in his mouth like some chew toy. He admits that he has a fondness for his Tsum self. How could he not? It's small, cute, well-mannered, well-groomed... and even carries a Tsum!Lucius with it!

Because Tsum!Lucius is even smaller than Tsum!Trein, Trein often frets that it will get lost or separated from them. He's always glancing over to double check that the tiny black and white furball is still there. (It is.)

His eyes and ears have essentially doubled. He, Lucius, and Tsum!Trein and Tsum!Lucius are vigilant for any students not paying attention in class or behaving poorly! They'll even come launching at you for slouching or dressing sloppily.

The Tsums join him for his daily stretches and exercise, followed by vichyssoise in the school cafeteria. Trein's so used to no one else getting the same thing as him, so it's a pleasant change of pace. (It is, however, a shock to him to watch Tsum!Trein gulp down an entire bowl by itself and then swell to the rotundness of a small water balloon.)

When Trein gets a call from his daughters, Tsum!Trein gets visibly excited and starts hopping up and down in an attempt to listen in. (Trein has to put the call on speaker mode just to indulge the Tsum, which pleases it very much.)

There are times when Tsum!Trein will abruptly freeze and not move for several moments. It turns out that Tsums, despite how round and plush they are, can have hip troubles too! Trein has to scoop up the poor little Tsum and ferry it the rest of the way to its destination.

He learns that he prefers the Tsum to ride on his shoulder or in his arms with Lucius. Wheh Tsum!Trein hops along on the ground, Trein occasionally has to bend over to grab it, and that risks throwing his back or his hip out.

Tsum!Trein helps with grading! Hand it a test or homework assignment, and it'll start bouncing on it, stamping red ink all over the incorrect responses. It takes a load of work off of Trein's back, granting him more time for leisure.

With those stubby arms, Tsum!Trein can't reach most of its body... It's very frustrating for it to be covered in cat hair, dirt, or other grime and to not be able to clean itself! For this reason, it is highly appreciative when Trein takes the time and effort to wash it, followed by running a lint roller across it. Tsum!Trein especially loves the lint roller; it's like a whole-body massage!

Tsum!Trein adores Lucius just as much as Trein does! Though it has a Tsum!Lucius of its own, Tsum!Trein also loves to dote on Lucius with treats, toys, pats, and snuggles. You might find Tsum!Trein nestling in Lucius's fur for a relaxing midday nap!

For whatever reason, Tsum!Trein is a cat magnet. Local strays are just... magically attracted to it. Trein has to rescue Tsum!Trein from a pack of wild cats on more than one occasion, which then led to the cats swarming Trein himself... It's not that he disliked them, but it definitely left him covered in a bunch of cat hair that he had to clean up afterwards.

The library is Tsum!Trein's favorite place in the entire campus! It finds the warm atmosphere and the shelves and stacks of books so cozy. While Trein collects reference materials to prepare for his next lesson, Tsum!Trein has a book open, poring over centuries and centuries' worth of history.

[anachronismstellar]

:)

Hi hello

GUESS WHO IS BACK FROM JAAAAAAAAAAAAILLL COLLEGEEEEEEEEE

And this is just the thing I needed to scratch my writing itch, hold my energy drink-

(btw, kinda nsfw ish, noncon-ISH Airplane is very much into the danger of it all but he was also kinda kidnapped- nothing that canon SVSSS wouldn't have I'd say lol)

-----------

He didn't wake up right away, too comfortable sandwiched between a heavy blanket and soft sheets. So comfortable in fact that only when he tried to push his hair plastered on his face that he realized that something wasn't quite right. He was supposed to be on a mission for his peak, that he remembered, but the inn he had rented a room barely had a mattress, their linen more sandpaper than fabric against his skin.

He froze, slowly opening one eye to see what was around him. From his angle there was only a nightstand (made of very nice wood by the way) and more pillows than he could count. W-Was he- Was this a wife plot?? It made no sense, Binghe wasn't even born yet!! He had just become head disciple, there was a long way until his protagonist was supposed to be born!! What-

"Is my little mouse awake?" a voice smooth as sweet plum wine followed by the caress of calloused fingers on his exposed ankle made him jump and squeal. The teasing laughter wasn't a surprise. He could understand very well that he had been kidnapped. What made him gasp and lose his words was the fact that- Well!!

Tianlang-jun was in front of him. The father of his protagonist. In the flesh and beauty, a smirk sharp as a knife pulling his lips up while his hair fell down in dark waves all over a sculpted chest, long enough to brush over impeccable abs-

Oh. Oh god.

Why was Tinglang-jun in front of him in a random fancy room naked as the day he was born?? System?!! System have mercy on his nerves!!!

"No need to be so scared," he chuckled again, shamelessly sitting next on the bed with his powerful thick naked thigh right next to Airplane's face as if it was just another week day instead of his assassination attempt on Shang Qinghua.

Because Shang Qinghua was going to die. He was one hundred percent sure of it. Either from how fast his blood rushed to his dick or by Su Xiyan's hand when she found out how hard he was by just looking at her?? Situationship?? like a pervert.

Oh shit, right, keep your eyes up, Qinghua!!!

"W-What- where am I?! Why-"

He could feel tears gathering at the corner of his eyes as claws prickled the side of his face. In a movement softer than Qinghua was expecting, Tianlang-jun forced his neck to bend until their eyes met, tutting as a thumb pressed over Airplane's lips.

"No need to be so scared, little mouse. Where is the heart and courage from when we first met, hn?"

Shang Qinghua could feel his entire face heating up at the memory of him punching the Demon Emperor. Apparently his hair down combined with brand new Head disciple robes made him a little too much alike a certain Huan Hua's palace disciple. Which in turn made Tianlang-jun hug him by his waist as if they were long lost lovers, startling Qinghua enough for him to turn around and punch the Emperor square on the jaw.

In his defense he didn't realize who he had punched at the time!! He thought it was a random pervert!!!

..... And yes, they talked after and Tianlang-jun bought him expensive wine as an apology for being too hand-sy. And yes they might have gone out a few other times, but!!! Tianlang-jun had given him a fake name!!! And Shang Qinghua had never had a handsome man like Tianlang-jun to pay so much attention to him, what if he wanted to chase the thrill of being desired for once?!!

But he had stopped!! As soon as he found out who Tianlang-jun really was he had been loud and clear about not wanting to be the other cultivator, ok?!!?! He wouldn't dare to interfere with the plot like that, he liked living!!!

And he was terrified of Su Xiyan too!! They have met a couple of times already while Qinghua accompanied his Shizun to meetings with Huan Hua palace. She was as scary as she was beautiful and powerful, contrary to what most would think he had enough common sense to know he could never compete with her!!

The sound of the door sliding open made both men turn to look at the direction of it, Tianlang-jun's face lighting up while Shang Qinghua's heart plummeted to the floor, palms getting sweatier by the second.

"Oh, you are awake, good," and lo and behold Su Xiyan herself glided all the way to the bed as Airplane let a nervous laughter bubble off his lips. Yep, he was about to die. Was he supposed to be the sacrifice? Possible, very possible.

At least she was decent, a proper robe covering her porcelain skin, hair tied up showing off the not-so-decent marks on her neck.

Oh. Oh holy shit were they fucking?? Were they just fucking like minutes ago?!!?

Shit, there it went his blood all the way to his dick again, he was so hard it was hard (haha) to think.

"P-Please- this one begs for mercy-"

"Begging so pretty already," she smiled at him like the cat who got the cream, leaning forward over his chest so she could steal a peck from Tianlang-jun's lips, and Airplane couldn't complain ok, it was any writer's wet dream to watch their hot as fuck OC's being cute/sexy with each other in the flesh, but at the moment he had some other concerns-

Like the silk rope tying his writs and feet to the bed that he just noticed now because- again- hot OCs being cute/sexy right on his face!!!

"I waited for you just like you asked, darling," Tianlang-jun whispered against Su Xiyan shoulder, pushing her robe away so he could kiss over a bite mark, licking her skin as he stared with knowing red eyes at Qinghua.

How he hadn't combusted yet was a true miracle, really.

"Hmm... Indeed. And he looks so pretty in Huan Hua's yellow, don't you think, Tianlang-jun?" she tugged at the loose inner robe covering Shang Qinghua's chest, twisting his nipple until he couldn't help but moan, brain going completely blank as it struggled to catch up what the fuck was going on.

He might have hit his head. Or maybe he was dreaming. That would make more sense than whatever insanity was happening right now.

"Nothing against An Ding yellow, A-Hua," she kept talking as she weren't slowly driving him insane, her short nails biting over his sensitive chest, oh so very different from Tianlang-jun's claws dragging the thin skin of his inner thigh. "But your skin tone pairs so much better with Huan Hua's warm gold. Don't you agree, Tianlang-jun?"

Tianlang-jun paused, hand so so close to Airplane's dick that he couldn't help but whine, shivering under the teasing touch, so close and so so far away.

"I agree, but I think he looks even better in red," and Airplane couldn't even beg before a sob tore up his throat when Su Xiyan demanded his attention once more, grasping his hair by the back of his neck so she could claim his mouth with a kiss.

"You think everyone looks good in red, dear," she said after a final bite to Qinghua's lower lip, kissing the flush of one of his cheeks. "But it does sound delightful... Let's see how red he can get, shall we?"

Much, much later, when he was back again at the blissful state of half awake half sleeping, this time sandwiched between a hot demon and a hot cultivator with both of them playing with his hair, he would have courage enough to mumble:

"Yea, okay, you guys have very good arguments, I think we should try this trouple thing."

And he was proud to say that didn't even die!! Even after Su Xiyan kissed him sweetly, and called him a good boy!!

Thanking System-dada for the blessings!!!

--------

Timeline? Who that is? Here we don't know her, we being horny on main. Take my hand and let's enjoy the nonsense in the name of SQH getting pegged by Su Xiyan doggy style like he deserves

I hope y'all like it :D

Tlj/sqh/sxy au where sqh meets tlj and sxy separately, and both of them like him enough to mention it to each other. Now, they are both trying to seduce him, but he rejects them because they already have a partner. Then tlj and sxy kidnapped sqh and very sexily explained that they were both into him and wanted him in a relationship with both of them

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Everyone Who Bashed Belle As Being A Stockholm Syndrome Victim Should Apologize, When Blitzo Has Shown What A True Victim Is Like

You know for decades Belle was joked as being a victim of stockholm syndrome even though there are many points against that perception. But it's funny that ironically we have a better representation in Blitzo, but those same critics say it's cute that he's basically now his abuser's cheerleader. Seriously, this is the face of a guy who has become conditioned to just be a doormat for a spoiled pos who he previously called out for treating him as lesser. Belle always stood up for herself and didn't let the Beast mistreat her. And she blatantly ranaway when she felt threatened. It's obvious she was not going to be mistreated by someone and that the Beast had to prove he was good enough for her.

And here comes Beast and Stolas, because they are essentially both spoiled brats who need to change in order to be with their love interest. The difference between Beast and Stolas is that the narrative knows the former is flawed and needs to changed while the latter is treated like as if he's a saint that has done nothing wrong. As a result, you see one who gradually changes over time while the other stays the same and is now coddled for it. With Beast and Stolas, they also make grand gestures to show their love. Beast does it because he's showing he's growing to care and even one gesture was risking himself being cursed because he understood that Belle's needs were more than his. However, Stolas does all these grand gestures not as a way to truly atone but a way to finally be with Blitzo because he wants him to fill the empty void in his life. As a result, all of these so-called nice deeds come off as hollow because they come off as a person who is doing this to look good rather than actually be good.

The worst part is that Stolas when he's rejected by Blitzo is coddled for feeling he's entitled to have his feelings returned when he hasn't earned it. Beast, however, even as he's changed make it known that he needs to do selfless stuff not only to break the curse but to truly know what it is to care for another. However, with Stolas it's always about how he feels and how he should be rewarded for doing not even the bare minimum to prove himself. To be frank about Beast, the movie in little detail gives tons of demonstration it's not just the grand gestures but the little things life that made his and Belle's relationship grow. Beast treats her as a person and not an ideal or trophy to have like Gastor (or Stolas if anyone was truthful). He gets to know her and really understands her. However, Stolas just is hooked on his fantasies to the point even the series is enabling him to hold onto them even when all it has done is strip him of everything he's held dear (including his daughter who he's neglected to chase his imp play thing).

I think the biggest thing about what makes Blitzo the true stockholm syndrome is the fact he's not himself anymore with Stolas. And people say that's character change, but he never should have changed for Stolas because Stolas is actually the one who should have done that not him. I don't care what "Apology Tour" says Stolas is not like any of his exes, because he was the one who screwed him over and treated him like shit. The major point is that Belle didn't need to change anything about herself and that she remains a static character who allows the Beast to demonstrate himself as worthy of her love. Stolas as said before does one grand gesture after another, but in the end he still remains in everyday life shitty to Blitzo but now he just tolerates him because he got bit by the red string of fate that makes him bend over for the creator's pet. And everyone knows for sure he's going to pull more shitty stuff in season 3 and get away with it. For this I will have to say that Belle needs to be apologized for being the poster girl for stockholm syndrome and give it to the rightful owner who is Blitzo.

[doctorwhowatchesthewatchmen]

okay but i legitimately want to talk about the grimpop love confessions and rejections because—I will reiterate—Ian has been confessing his love for Poppy this season and Poppy has been bending over backwards to Not Hear Him, which is a rejection in its own way. I want to point out, however, that it’s not a rejection because Poppy doesn’t also love Ian. It’s a rejection because Ian has consistently, repeatedly, humiliatingly, publicly rejected Poppy. It’s why Poppy knew that Ian was talking about the shovel and not her in season one. Every little dig and comment about how Ian was definitely, under no circumstances sexually attracted to her because she was abrasive and gross and an all around mess (a mess that he had a hand in creating, but that’s more than Ian is or was willing to admit). He deliberately told her that he didn’t believe in her, to hurt her, to bring her back down into the bucket that Ian created and was happy living in—as long as he was the crab on top.

Ian telling Poppy that he loved her in season 3 was so, so important for him as a character, and it was important that Poppy said it back, but Ian didn’t want to hear her then. Poppy has always loved Ian. I think it’s even reasonable to believe that she had a crush on him even with his terrible ponytail beard, but getting to know Ian, being around him and working with him, took away the shine and veneer of him being Ian Grimm. So Poppy stuffed all of that down, so deep that she can’t really hear him when he says “I’m not in love with you for your body […] I love you for your mind”, so she builds Poppy 2 to give Ian what he wants, her mind, and she doesn’t have to engage further with Ian on a personal level. Keep it professional. She has someone new who is loudly into her and values her not just as a creative but as a person.

Ian has had to go on a Journey about Poppy, and I think that’s part of why he was so stressed out about her blowing off Warrior Within to be with Storm. It’s taken him so long to get to even this barely there level of understanding his feelings for Poppy that he’s already lost her. Add to that the feeling (and framing!) of Poppy “cheating” on him creatively with Storm. He’s afraid of losing Poppy. He’s jealous and envious, and whether he consciously knows it or not, he’s making it everyone else’s problem. Except Poppy, who is the only person he’s been honest with.

I am Unwell

[ecstxsyy]

KISS ME. | E. DIAZ ❦

Eddie wants to try something new.

18+ mdni!

eddie diaz x fem!nurse reader

warnings: voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, cream pie.

cupid’s candy hearts masterlist

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

NOBODY CELEBRATED Valentine’s Day like the 118, or any holiday. They held community events for the public and decorated the firehouse from top to bottom. Red, pink, and white heart garland hung from the railings and little Cupid cutouts hung from the rafters in the ceiling.

Every year you helped them out with the decorating, your dating Eddie practically made you part of the firehouse. You designed concepts for themes every year, ordering them all around, because frankly, if it weren't for you and Hen, they’d have a hand-written banner and a plate of cookies for the community.

This year, you decided Cupid’s Workshop should be the theme. You had all the decorations made at a party supply store and sent Buck and Chimney to get the rest. Eddie was helping you hang up what you already had when the alarm rang throughout the station, all of the firefighters sprung into action immediately while you continued as if nothing was happening.

The chaos of the firehouse was nothing new to you, whenever you and Eddie worked opposite shifts it was basically your home.

Eddie jumped up to begin getting his gear when Bobby shouted to him,

“You can stay behind and help her, it’s not too big of a fire, we gotta get those decorations up fast,” Bobby said before taking off on the rig with the rest of the firefighters on shift.

Eddie sighed and turned back to the table full of decorations and glitter.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me,” you teased, elbowing his shoulder lightly. Eddie chuckled and looked around, moving to grab your hand and pull you upstairs towards the kitchen. Eddie checked the upstairs before pulling you into a deep kiss.

The kiss made you stagger a bit, you and Eddie were adventurous in bed but never anything like this. You kissed Eddie back for a brief moment before coming to your senses and pulling away.

“Eddie, we can’t. We’ll get caught,” you whisper yell at him, looking around to make sure nobody had decided to come up for a snack.

“Sure we can, you just gotta be quiet,” Eddie mumbled, feathering light kisses across your jaw, “You can do that for me, right?”

You scanned around one last time, a thrill running through you. You didn't know what to do, you wanted so badly to have Eddie bend you over every surface around you, but you were also terrified of being caught.

“But Edd-” You were cut off quickly by Eddie.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Eddie grumbled, pulling you in to kiss him again. This time, you relaxed, you let him take the lead and let your body melt into his. Your tongues clashed until eventually, you took Eddie’s into your mouth to suck on it. That always drove him crazy.

Eddie hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter, unbuttoning your jeans with speed; he slid them down your legs, your panties following suit. Eddie wasted no time, diving into your pussy immediately. He licked a long stripe up your folds, stopping at your clit to kitten-lick it slowly.

You loved it when Eddie ate you out, he was very skilled with his tongue and fingers. He dove in like a starved man, slurping loudly on your clit. Eddie teased your hole with his index finger, getting off on the way you whined every time he slid just the tip of it in just to pull it back out.

“Please, Eddie,” you begged.

“Please what, baby?” Eddie teased, sheathing his index and middle finger fully inside of you. Your hand flew to your mouth, catching the moans that threatened to tumble out. You would probably die of shame and embarrassment if you got caught.

Your orgasm soon washed over you in waves as you gripped the edge of the counter, fighting back every sound that would give away the sinful things the two of you were doing right under everyone’s noses.

Eddie rode you through your orgasm, your slick covering his chin. He stood and unbuckled his belt, he pulled his pants down just enough to get his cock out and slapped his tip on your sensitive clit. You jolted with every slap and he smirked, he loved the way you reacted to him.

Eddie slid his cock into you quickly, he didn't have the time to savor this the way he wanted to. Your quiet whines and moans were music to his ears, he couldn't wait to have you to himself later tonight.

The angle Eddie was thrusting into you sent his tip straight into your spongy g-spot, his fingers habitually found their way to your clit, rubbing quick small circles against the tiny bud. You could feel your second orgasm already beginning to hit you, your legs starting to tremble around his waist.

You came with a small squeak, biting your knuckles to keep yourself quiet. The tight clench of your pussy sent Eddie toppling over the edge after you, his breath coming out in small shudders as he pumps his load deep inside of you.

As Eddie finished cumming, the sound of the rig pulling back into the station sent you both into a panic. Both of your hands flew to pull your clothes back on and grab a bottle of Clorox wipes to wipe down the kitchen counter, once the two of you made sure you both looked normal, you grabbed some snacks that were supposed to be set up and walked down the steps to meet the crew.

“How did you two manage to not get anything done the whole time we were gone?” Hen questioned with a raised eyebrow. You and Eddie held up the snacks in your hands with a small smile.

“We had to run to the store to get more snacks for the kids,” Eddie lied, the both of you immediately returning to your previous stations decorating.

At least you didn't get caught.

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

[ratatatastic]

titanium blasting while lundy has the smoke contraption...

you can tell he heard "fire away fire away" with that in his hands and did it when it played again. he is but a simple boy synching up actions with song lyrics to appear cooler

WHY DO YOU HAVE A ICE BUCKET ON YOUR HEAD WHILE ON BARTOP

adjusting it back like hair... yeah girl its not supposed to go on your head

6.29.24 (x)

[see-arcane]

Oh bitter bitter irony

Bile below

I started out afraid that Eggers would over-Coppola his Nosferatu--he didn't! :D--only to run into a growing dual tide of fans who are either

A) actively trying to Coppola his Orlok and Ellen into lash-batting forbidden romance bodice ripper cliches ("He backhanded Knock for daring to suggest he steal Ellen! uwu He brought a plague and attacked her loved ones just to be with her! uwu She clearly wanted to be with Orlok all along, fuck Jonathan Thomas, the useless stuffy loser! uwu Orlok just doesn't want her to deny herself! uwu Every word he says should be 100% taken at face value, he would never use the Classic Abuser Playbook to victim-blame his target into compliance, just do murders and choke slam her for saying she doesn't like him, ignore the long-distance repeated psychic rape since she hit puberty, it's fine it's fine uwu")

or

B) going full pearl-clutch about the very concept of Orlok being an icky evil unpretty mustached corpse monster (with all the abuse and assaults being tacked on in the aftermath to Prove~ this is Not a Proper Ken Doll Dracula)

like

guys. we're sinking into the deep ends of two very different nuance-free pools here

Yes, there is a disturbing fucked up but Actually There connection between Ellen and Orlok. There is attraction, there is a core spiritual likeness that led Orlok to her as a girl. But that does not obliterate the fact that he is monstrous to her and to everyone she cares about. He is a rapist. He is a manipulator. He abuses her and the covenant connection--which he point blank tricked her into without any warnings to what she was agreeing to as a teenager--for years. And then, when she dares to fall in love with and wed someone else, he throws a murder-tantrum until she agrees by her own will* (*under duress) to be his. Not his equal in anything but suggestion, but his property. His owed Affliction. And it is meant to be horribly fucked up that Ellen has even a thread of positive feeling for him, regardless of what supposed matching darkness she has in her. Just like many victims in her position will feel for their own sexual and romantic abusers.

This is not Count Gary Oldmanacula and Winonmina Harkryder. This is not star-crossed tragique kissy kissy Francis fanfiction. It does not call for mental gymnastics to take the fangs and blood and violation out, to excuse the monstrosity Eggers harvested from the actual source story or--and I am putting my head through the wall about this--taking anything Count Orlok says at face value when his entire MO, from the first assault on Teen Ellen to the trick document he makes Thomas sign to sell her away to the full spread of mind game horseshit he says to Ellen's face or puts in her mouth to puppeteer a fight between the Hutters, IS TO MANIPULATE AND ABUSE EVERYONE AROUND HIM

Fuck, even Knock got ripped off via Orlok's bullshitting and he made a literal full Faustian willing contract with him

And on the flip side:

Stop stop stop stop STOP wringing your hands over the presence of gothic horror monstrosity being in the gothic horror monstrosity film.

Bela Lugosi and Gary Oldman? They looked impressive. They looked charming and elegant and polished and, obviously, iconic. The legion of pressed and bleached and chiseled Dracula Lites after them, less so. But they are pretty!

And none of them have looked like the Count who Bram Stoker made or what his inspirations would ever have recognized as a vampire or a boyar. Robert 'If I do not personally graft the actual time period of this movie into place with my own two hands I Will Die' Eggers actually did his research in putting his Orlok together and, being a Horror Film Writer and Director, actually remembered to put the horror into the famous vampire horror story.

Attraction, sensuality, romance, and assault all have their place in it too--it is Nosferatu: "Dracula, But the Focus is On a Dracula Trying to Make the World's Worst Nightmare Threesome Happen"

And, shock of shocks, in Murnau's film, as in Stoker's book, the main couple--Harkers, Hutters--have the loving couple intimately preyed on by the same monster. While Mina/Ellen ostensibly 'allow' themselves to be preyed on, in both scenes it's done out of a desire to protect Jonathan/Thomas from the Count.

Mina keeps silent and allows Dracula to feed on her and force-feed her his blood to kick off a magical enslavement-undeath, lest Dracula follow through on his threat to bash Jonathan's skull in

Ellen sends Thomas away and offers herself as bloodbag and bride to Orlok specifically to keep him from killing Thomas and finishing off all of Wisborg

Would these magically have become 'better' setups if only Count Dracula/Orlok were hunky clean-shaven bishounen sexyboi doms there to ~liberate xoxo~ the already-married already-fucking already-skirting the lines of propriety gender role-bending young woman?

Because if that's the case in your eyes, click here. Scroll on through almost 130 years' worth of film and TV and plays and books and a thousand other spinoffs where Dracula is perpetually sandblasted into your cape-swishing hickey-nibbling knockoffs of choice. All yours.

But for fuck's sake.

Let the gothic horror be gothic horror. Up to and including the monster being monstrous. Up to and including, yes, a deranged connection and magnetism between Pretty Girl and Actually Freaky-looking Undead Rat Man. Up to and including, yes, the Human Lover not being the starched and stuffy blandman there to be thrown in a ditch to let Girl and Sexy Monsterman who truly understands her~*~* get together, and instead be a genuine romantic partner who is as adamant in endangering himself to protect his beloved as she is for him.

tl;dr:

Stop trying to retroactively Coppola this movie and using 'haha but I'm a monsterfucker' to side step the fact that the villain here is a villain and is using the rule book of actual abusive relationships to gaslight his victim(s) in a very human, very gruesome way

Stop wailing that your personal diet vampire fetish is being sullied via the presence of a mustache, maggoty corpse pecs and the horror of the Count not being a GQ model

Just stop

[spotaus]

If I have energy I want to draw out some designs for an au I'm spontaneously writing.

(Medieval times, there's a Prophecy. Nightmare rules over this kingdom and is supposed to complete this prophecy, he refuses to because it would harm the people. Dream was sent away and banished by Night because he was dis-illusioned into thinking the prophecy was a Good Thing abd what he was raised to complete. Night collected his Knights (Killer, Dust, Horror, and Cross most recently) and trains them and tells them the truth of the prophecy. They're loyal to him. One day the magic of the prophesy (Apple Magic) leaves Nightmare unexpectedly, returning him to the state he was in before he accepted the mantle. This puts a target on his back and gives Dream a huge advantage in maybe making a comeback. The Knight's decide that their King (newly a young lad and variably scared and frightened) must be protected and they run the kingdom as he normally would, while also ensuring he survives and that the prophecy can't be completed.)

[ladyalicentshightower]

I think people overestimate how feminist team black is. If someone brings up how Baela should be the heir to Driftmark, it's always "she would've been Queen if not for the Greens!", ignoring that 1, she would be Queen consort, not a Queen in her own right, and 2 she has a legitimate claim in her own right to Driftmark. Team Black's goal is to crown Rhaenyra, but Rhaenyra becoming Queen isn't a win for feminism because it does nothing to dismantle the rest of the patriarchal system that exists in Westeros. From what we've gotten so far, it reads that Rhaenyra wants to be the exception and not the rule. Rhaenyra has made a lot of bad political decisions, which means she can't acknowledge Baela's claim because it would weaken her own claim (blatantly admitting her eldest sons are illegitimate would not end well for her to say the least). So she betrothes Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena to kind of atone for that, like as a consolation prize Baela will be Queen and Rhaena will be lady of Driftmark, neither of them would hold either title in their own right. It's good matches because the kids like each other and will treat each other well, but it's not a feminist win or a feministic liberation. It's usurpation, usurpation that takes place because Rhaenyra has to do damage control after having illegitimate children and after a serious of bad political decisions (both hers and her fathers, Viserys is the arbiter of this entire mess). To me, Rhaenyra is very reminiscent of Mary Queen of Scots, I can see a lot of elements drawn from Mary's history in Rhaenyra's story and character, down to their sons eventually taking the crown they failed to claim/keep.

[ominous-horse-noises]

oh man, if i thought eps 9-10 made me mad..... this was easily the worst episode in the entire season.��

i knew these eliminations would hurt no matter what bc i grew so attached to most of the trainees left, but haruto not even being a candidate for p0.18... im a jaystar first and foremost, but i voted for haruto every. single. day. my other picks rotated, but haruto was my no.2 pick the whole time

Chen Kuanjui, Haruto, Wang Zihao, Woongki, Seowon, i'll be following you from now on, wherever you end up!! stars like you are impossible to hide- you were born to shine for everyone to see! 

i'm actually relieved Zhang Hao was second- the last thing we need now is knetz to turn on the one g trainee they allow to thrive. If he was 1st, no doubt korean voters would have dropped him, and he'd get Xiaoting'd. Also, as a jaystar.... I'll just say this episode was rough for me and leave it at that. Honestly, Sung Hanbin has nothing left to prove (he's done different concepts, had multiple main vocal and killing parts and never even come close to losing his 1st rank), so I do wish he'd share the spotlight even slightly- but in the end, it's a competition. I do wish they’d stop angel editing him though when he’s proven to be the single most ruthless trainee on the show. Every other trainee who’s in a more precarious position has been more compassionate with parts distribution at one point or another. Anyway, congrats to Ricky on breaking into the top 9!!!