#he was so attractive

[ahjiing]

“My dear, your journey is finished. 𝘐 am a Necromancer.” (Vows and Vengeance, ep 7)

[shadowofdarkness22]

Okay, you can't watch Gihun walk with that strut and not tell me he wouldn't be a terrifying frontman.

[fail-sco0b]

whys sanji always attracting men bruh, womanizer? no, menanizer

[mintaikkcorpse]

I fuck hard with Asexual Venom, but the idea of Venom, an alien whose species doesn't breed sexually and don't have concepts of sex, being sexually attracted to some boring sad and sweaty white guy he picked up on the streets is just so funny to me

[lavenderdreams205]

Forgive me if this doesn't make sense but

Dean understands himself. He is not drowning in internalized homophobia. He doesn't not know that he's into men. What Dean is, however, is a liar. He lies to everyone, all the time. I think this touches on the queer experience in a way we dont always see in media. We always talk about coming out and coming out scenes but what we never talk about why we come out. It's because of how difficult the lying is. But deans lied about everything, all his life. Not just about his sexuality, or things related to hunting. But he lies (directly or by ommission) about the music he likes, the clothes he likes, literally everything, just to fit into this box of what everyone expects him to be. He understands himself, you just don't have the critical thinking skills to see past his lies, you take his word at face value even though the show has told you repeatedly that dean is a liar

[chloesimaginationthings]

Hear me out, Michael would think Roxy is SICK AF

[tsuyalovebot]

make him lose his cool.

suggestive and sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.

xia yi zhou / caleb x reader.

cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos.) no sex, but caleb popping a boner like a victorian man. afab reader (that also wears bras). mc=reader.

"caleb is an ass man!" "no, he likes tits!"

personally, i think caleb would have a near panic attack upon seeing your shoulder, elbow, or ankle.

he just does a really good job of pretending he doesn't mind it. after all, the two of you grew up together. he's had to put his hands on you many times — carrying, tending to scrapes and cuts, tickling you, ruffling your hair, squeezing your face. skinship was a language that the two of you were plenty fluent in.

but the year spent apart failed to maintain this, like some half-assed video streaming subscription, and caleb's the newborn fawn learning how to walk.

so what happens when he knocks on the room to his bedroom — it belongs to you now, technically — with a plate of breakfast before coming in, and he witnesses you sitting up, all sleepy and the neckline of his shirt slightly sliding down your shoulder?

he's going to throw himself off a cliffside. maybe even off skyhaven itself.

the plate hits the bedside table on your side with a loud clatter. none of the food spilled over, luckily. he has half a mind to garble some lame excuse about being busy and a quick good morning before trying to bolt.

but, caleb nearly snaps into two when you tug at the hem of his shirt, slumber still slurred in your words as you ask where he's going. there'd been no strength in that tug. yet, he stopped in his tracks all the same. he ends up listening to your grumbles, ones reminding him that it's his day off, remember? you promised you'd spend it with me.

"i gotta take a shower first," he chuckles, hoping his voice wasn't too shaky. please don't notice. please don't notice.

"but caleb," you keen.

god, it's like when he'd take leave from the academy for a few days just to go back to you and gran. always coming home to you, thoroughly acquainted with you not being a morning person but still making the effort to cling to him and savor every second you two spent together.

he assumed it would be the same now, but clearly, that was a mistake. because the coiling tension of warmth threatening to boil over in his stomach was nothing short of treacherous.

caleb does manage to escape; albeit pained by the half-awake whines behind him and the sound of you falling back into bed. god, how badly he wanted to cave into your demands. you don't even know the half of it.

he wonders if you've ever curled into his side of that bed he once slept on, seeking his cologne, his body, his warmth the same way he looks for your silhouette in every corner of this home. a melody he knows, but a name he can't quite place in this shell of a house that transformed in your presence.

regardless, it's really difficult to let this relationship rebuild organically when he was popping a boner over the slightest sliver of skin. the shower's streams are icy on his skin, the impromptu bath having thrown a wrench into his morning routine. he refuses to even touch himself. letting the proof of his sin soften under the biting cold of the water, despite the discomfort.

because nothing was more horrific than having his body react to you like a prepubescent teen discovering porn online for the first time.

caleb thinks he's safe after spending an hour in the bathroom, fingertips pruned and mind cooler than the iciest of planets. but as he's changed back into his clothes, he discovers you beside the door, a blanket around your sitting form and those eyelids droopy.

"pipsqueak? what're you doin' here?" he's crouching down — mortifying boner forgotten as he gathers you into his arms before he realizes it.

then, you stir. a whine muffled into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, the vibration seeming to ripple down his spinal column. the blanket falls from your body in the motions, and you're so soft compared to the firmness of his body.

his arms tighten around you on instinct and you let out a pleased sound and—

he stiffens. you weren't wearing a bra.

"caleb, you're done." you yawn, like the spoiled, pampered figurehead of royalty you are. you arch up into him, and he swears he feels several of his neurons die, dropping like flies in the empty cavity of his head.

"take me back to bed." he feels the air shift as you seem to inhale his scent. your voice softer, more content when you say, "i wanna sleep some more."

he's so fucking doomed.

[timethehobo]

Just a young, talented Watcher meeting a friendly little wisp.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

...Turns out gay sex actually was the solution.

(This is basically a redraw, come read the real deal over at Tiger Tiger)

[zorangezest]

another batch of humanformers! have some eviiiiiil people!

I just cant help myself when it comes to human designs they are so fun to draw

[choccy-milky]

dad seb dad seb dad seb 💕

[hannibalspubes]

If Will saw Hannibal dressed like this I’m convinced he would faint

[sergle]

I don’t know if there really is any science behind workout routines separated by sex, but even if there is benefit to doing exercise “for women” i don’t give a shit. and i will intentionally seek out guides made For Men. because by and large, this is how the different video thumbnails shake out

[knightingale]

The "Sansa reminds Sandor of his sister" motive that some people try to hitch to his character really just flies in the face of his actual attachments to her, doesn't it? Sansa reminds Sandor of himself. He sees the little boy who used to love knights in this girl who's been swept up by the same romanticism. He sees his abuser in her abusers, the much larger knight(s) beating on the helpless child. He sees how she is betrayed by every level of authority that should have saved her and remembers his father's neglect and Tywin and Robert's apathy for Gregor's crimes. He's protective of Sansa because he was Sansa.

And GRRM's design, that one of the strongest warriors in the series, a fearsome and cynical 6'8" guy who's "muscled like a bull" and has the face of death itself, sees himself in this soft and effeminate teen girl, and empathizes with her because he was an abuse victim too, is INFINITELY more compelling than "Oh yeah I bet she just reminds him of his sister," who he's never mentioned and who we know literally nothing about. Way to unnecessarily water down a character, you couldn't have ignored the black and white text more efficiently if you tried.

[bambiiniinii]

look it's ody and penelope!

[inkykeiji]

do you think caleb gets (outrageously) turned on when he sees you doing something domestic??? laundry, dishes, folding his clothes, baking, sweeping the floor??? the most basic, innocuous domesticities???

because i do!!! i do think he gets turned on by it!!! and i think he hopes you get turned on by him performing domestic activities, too: tinkering with his car in the garage, fingernails framed with grease and oil-stained coveralls half undone and tied around his waist; or little blades of grass stuck to his glistening chest & twined through strands of umber hair; or his long, long legs stretched out on the bathroom tile, his torso buried in the sink cabinets as he fixes some leaky pipe???

because ​it’s almost perverted, just how aroused he becomes when he sees you being domestic—cock twitching hot n heavy in his jeans, eyes dark and lids weighted with lust, sweat beginning to prickle at the base of his skull as saliva collects beneath his tongue; a hunger sparked in his chest, something primal and raw and so incredibly deprived—and he needs you to feel it, too.