#of which he is unfortunately subjected to very often

[wellofdean]

tags via @ilarual: #literally this is the thing!!#Dean has not explicitly said the words ''please stop leaving''#but he has tried very hard through his actions to express that#AND!!!! CRUCIALLY!!! BECAUSE DEAN IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD VERBAL COMMUNICATOR!!#he has ALSO!!! verbally expressed his desire for Cas to stick around using OTHER words!!!#not as explicit as ''please stop leaving and stay with me'' but absolutely conveying the same sentiment#what the hell do you think ''we're stronger together'' and the whole ''cursed or not'' speech were about????#like Cas needs it to be more clear than that to Get It bc he does not understand how his constant absence HURTS#but Dean does not want to BE more explicit than he already is#bc he feels like he's been VERY direct on the subject already#he literally told Cas he needs him. TWICE. and has prayed that he needs him there with them at least once that I can recall#Dean thinks he's been EXTREMELY explicitly clear already!!!#and that Cas is constantly leaving bc despite hearing Dean's tacit request to stay Cas is REFUSING that request and doesn't WANT to stay#he keeps asking and getting rebuffed WHY would he be louder and needier about it when he thinks all it's going to get him#is the emotional equivalent of a slap to the face?#in no universe is Dean going to ask for something louder when from his POV he's already been begging for it and being refused like????#this is one of those cases where neither of them is actually doing anything wrong#Dean is communicating perfectly fine it's just Cas is autistic and missing some subtext#Cas isn't wrong for prioritizing his missions when he doesn't understand that Dean wants him there as much as he wants to be there#they're just talking past each other and a deeper conversation or two would fix this problem for them#they just don't realize that conversation is necessary#bc Dean thinks he's been heard and understood and Cas is politely declining his request for more time together#and Cas is unaware that that's something Dean has been asking for at varying volume levels for years#and instead bc of his trauma feels compelled to ''earn'' his place in the family with feats of strength so to speak#no one is at fault for their emotional needs not being met it's just a miscommunication#unfortunately the fandom focuses super hard on only one part of that equation and thus the takes on it are so often Bad™#and ignore Cas's motivations and role as a complex actor with his own trauma and emotional issues and blind spots#anyway they're losers I adore them both <3#spn

OMG thank you. NO ONE IS AT FAULT FOR THEIR EMOTIONAL NEEDS NOT BEING MET.

I love them both so much, and they are so fucking hapless about this one particular thing: they are in love and Chuck keeps fucking with them.

And you are so right, @ilaurel, that Cas's motivations and traumas and complexities are ignored by so much of the fandom. I, an inveterate Dean enjoyer, who thinks Dean is a darling who has never committed a wrong that couldn't be forgiven if he just makes his bewildered wet eyes sad face, cannot understand why we gotta PICK ONE? Like, can't an autistic trauma survivor who's just learning the ropes on this whole 'free will' thing, and who's in love with god's favourite boytoy make a mistake here and there? Can we just give him a fucking break because his heart is the right place? By which I mean in Dean's lap?? If Dean and Cas can forgive each other, can't we just let them both be beautiful fuck ups and love them both?

Personally, I forgive them both their trespasses and hope they get to make out forever in a million beautiful hereafters.

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[camels-pen]

based on a headcanon

[mailmango]

One-on-One

Pairing: Professor Henry Cavill x Student Male Reader

Genre: Fluffy Smut, MDNI

Kinks/Warnings/Notes: AMAB Reader; Calling the reader a slut, a whore; Calling the reader a good boy, praise; Slapping and spanking; Age gap; Professor x Student

Length: 5.1k words, Fic

Synopsis: You're one of the lucky few to have ever experienced one of Professor Cavill's lectures. And you are the lucky, singular person to have ever experienced his heart-racing one-on-one session.

A/N: oml hiiii! If you're reading this, then thank you very much! this is my first time writing something over a thousand words (of my own volition) in probably 3 years at least! It's also my first time writing serious smut GAHAHAHAH I would appreciate feedback (totally optional), but most of all, hope you enjoy :D

Credits: @/aquazero for the divider and @/starboye for helping me with formatting and tagging!! ^-^

I picked this one just for you! I hope it’s sweet and juicy…

You’ve always liked your Ancient Mythologies Studies class. It was an easy A, one that came packaged with an interesting topic to boot. Who doesn’t want to hear of the religions and myths of civilizations from thousands and thousands of years ago?

The answer is most people. It was one of the smallest classes–even with a size cap of twenty, it had barely filled out ten slots. It seemed most people simply didn’t take interest in the subject. That meant that most people were poor, unfortunate people, because they didn’t have the pleasure of knowing Professor Cavill. 

Professor Cavill had worked at the university teaching their Ancient Mythologies Studies class for the past several years. He was a graduate of this school and, after having established himself as a prominent archaeologist, he opted to take time and teach a course for two sessions weekly. In his words he, “Wanted to help inspire any young people with a passion for learning about those that came before us.” 

You had found those words so, so interesting. But it was more so about the man saying them. 

Professor Cavill–Henry–was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties. He was kind and considerate to each member of his class, treating them with a warmth and manner you’d read about in an overly unrealistic romance novel. And yet, he was very much real. You had class with him every Monday morning and Friday night. 

Classes which you would sit in, bouncing your leg and hiding a raging boner as you watched the man fiddle with and adjust his tie. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, are you sure you’d rather not attend the festivities?” 

Ah, just your luck, wasn’t it? Your college had been holding a concert for a handful of its alumni to celebrate their band’s first national tour. The university had decided that, due to the band falling under the alternative genre, they would allow classes to continue should any students or staff be disinterested. 

It just so happened that, as much as you weren’t opposed to them, you also weren’t heavily inclined to actually attend their show. You had figured that at least one of your ten classmates would feel the same. 

Apparently not.

Hence, you now sat alone in a small lecture room, the chairs beside you empty as you stared at your beloved professor, Professor Cavill. 

“Ah, no, professor. Were you looking to attend?” 

“Myself? My personal taste doesn’t align with their music. As much as I love Clive-” 

Clive was the lead singer and, as you recall, one of Professor Cavill’s former students. 

“-we’ll be meeting for a congratulations dinner tomorrow evening. We’ve already discussed.”

He smiled, dimples forming, as he flipped open his files for the night’s lecture. 

Then he had to reach for his stupid tie. 

“Would you mind if I loosened my tie? I’ve been feeling warm as of earlier this evening.” 

His large, somewhat hairy hand was already holding the knot one either side. He did it often; you had come to suspect it was an unconscious habit at times. He would tug at his tie, calling attention to his strong chest or those bulging biceps…

Damn his stupid tie. Today, it was his blue tie, one you knew to be one of his favourites. He wore it at least thrice a month, most often during Friday sessions.

Every time he would touch it, toy with it, it sent shivers down your spine and blood straight to your cock. You almost weren’t sure if you hated or loved that he was almost never without one.

“Ah, not at all, Sir. Go ahead.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

God, your name sounded so good out of his mouth. He drew the syllables out, gave it this weight that you hadn’t heard your name spoken with before. You could get addicted to the way he had said it just now. You were tempted to find an excuse to have him say it again. 

That opportunity came as, for the first time, he pushed past absentminded tugs at his tie and now pulled the knot away from his chest. For the first time, you saw his neck without the tie drawing attention. It almost sounded manic to say but… the sight began to draw you in. 

And then he overshot it. The tie came off, knot still done, but it was completely removed now. He stared down at the cloth before using his free hand to undo it, leaving it nice and straight in his hand. 

“Do you mind if I forgo it?”

Eye contact. He made eye contact with those god damn near hypnotising eyes. They really were unique; the man had something called segmental heterochromia. He had mentioned it once before. It meant that his left iris, though mostly blue like his right, had a patch of brown in its upper half. 

It felt mystifying, like a siren whose song you couldn’t ignore. He continued to look at you, and without him breaking eye contact, you were hopelessly unable to do so yourself. Instead, you simply muttered a weak response. 

“Go ahead, Sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Class seemed to fly by. Your hand wrote on its own as your legs bounced, mind and senses completely and utterly hinged on the man’s every word and movement. Though he entranced you each time you sat in on his lectures, tonight was different. You had always blamed his tie. It’s the tie. The playing with the tie, his stature with it, that’s what you blamed for your constant erections. 

But it was difficult to deny it when, as the man orated with his tie discarded, you found your cock throbbing more eagerly than you can remember it having ever done before.

Sweat rolled down your forehead from the heat you were feeling. You cursed yourself, begging that the man would somehow not notice the warmth that afflicted you. But, as you let yourself look at him again, really look at him, you were both relieved and mortified to find that he was under the same circumstances. 

“Is the air conditioning broken?”

His words were breathless as he fanned himself with his papers. He was tugging at his collar now, further exposing his neck, now slick with sweat. It seemed to be bothering him more than it was you, somehow. 

“I-I think so.”

You could barely manage to let the words out. Your breathing had gotten unsteady, mind and body unable to focus as the man groaned from the discomfort. Seemingly without realising, his hand undid the two topmost buttons of his shirt. It exposed his chest–a strong chest covered in wild, dark black hair that you had been completely oblivious to the glorious existence of.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Is something-”

Of course now he notices your stares. It couldn’t have been when it was something that was easily explained away, like you were staring at him due to intent listening. No, it had to be when your gaze, which he followed, led down to his exposed chest. His exposed chest which had, mortifyingly, caused a wet spot to form in your pants. 

“Ah, my apologies. Let me redo my button-” 

“No! I mean-”

Your words came out too eager. Your brain was screaming at your mouth not to speak, to not make an utter fool of yourself. But your mouth chose to go rogue, instead opting to speak like a horned-up teen begging his boyfriend to keep making out with him. 

“Y-you don’t have to. I don’t mind.” 

An eyebrow was cocked in your direction. 

“Is that so, Y/N?” 

Your silence was used to scream, rather than actually think of anything remotely close to damage control. 

“Y-yes Sir. I don’t mind if you keep your buttons undone.”

“If that’s the case, then…” 

Was this… reality? Surely it could be. It was impossible. 

You were sitting there, cock leaking with precum like you were a virgin watching your first porno, as your handsome professor began to undo buttons, one after another. He was exposing himself further and further with each passing second, each button exposing a new section of chiselled, hairy, sweat-covered skin.

His breaths were deep and heavy, sighs and groans of relief sending more and more sensations to your cock. Every vibration of his vocal chords seemed to be felt in full force by your erection, not helping your situation in any way whatsoever. 

Then the man had the gall to take his shirt off, folding it neatly and placing it aside. 

His body truly was magnificent. Plush, thick muscles were a constant, whether you looked at his chest, his abs, his shoulders, or any of his muscles. They radiated strength, covered in that same black hair as on his chest and equally slick with sweat. His body glistened under the dim light of the lights hanging above, almost like a gladiator fresh from battle. 

How the hell were you supposed to react? What the hell were you supposed to do? 

“Y/N, it’s hot, isn’t it? Would you mind if I further… undressed?”

How the hell were you supposed to say no to that? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost pathetic how easily the man got you to fish your cock out of your strained pants. Little more than an offhanded request, actually. 

Now you sat, pants and underwear around your ankles, your own shirt unbuttoned, as you feverishly pumped your erect dick. Your hand glided up and down due to the slickness of your overflowing precum, breathing unstable and desperate. But you were helpless, the possibility of you stopping a distant memory.

Professor Cavill was now nearly nude. He had discarded his elegant brown leather shoes and well-tailored pants, also in a neat pile on his desk. It left him, his statuesque form, completely exposed to you and your horny, unabashedly feral mind. It was a wonder you hadn’t cum yet. 

“Keep pumping for me, Y/N. Be a good boy and keep going.” 

Fuck, you couldn’t stop. Not when he said your name in a gruff, demanding voice. Not when he called you the sweetest pet names. Not when he stared at you, panting and eager, with a hunger that a predator has for its prey. 

Most especially when his cock strained against dark, black fabric, as he rubbed along his clothed shaft as he took in the sight of your desperate form. 

“Prof-” 

“Henry. Call me Henry, Y/N.” 

Shit, you could feel your cum about to well up and burst. 

“Henry!” 

He gave you a curt nod of approval. Your stomach pulsed with excitement. 

“P-please, fuck me-!” 

You looked at him, eyes wide and begging, and desperately awaited a reply. With mercy, he gave you one. 

“Alright, Y/N. I’ll fuck you.” 

You let out a pathetic, strangled mewl as your cum sprayed up and onto your sweaty torso. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Henry–gah, you got to call him Henry–had a cock that you couldn’t fully process was actually human. It was too perfect. It was thick, nearly as thick as your wrist though thankfully just short. It was lengthy, having had to be nine or ten inches at full mast. His balls were heavy, full of cum that he was eager to let out, and the base of his shaft was buried in a wild, thick, furry bush. 

It was so close to you. It throbbed in front of you as you sat in your chair, the proximity allowing you to see the thick, pulsing vein that ran from base to near the tip. It let you watch as that fat, mushroom tip leaked a viscous, sticky precum. It lets you inhale that delicious, heady musk, intoxicating your mind and sending it reeling. 

It was almost too much to process. Almost.

You were far, far too eager to begin sucking on the fat shaft. Who could blame you? People would pay good money to get a taste of a cock this perfect. 

Fuck, the taste! A salty, somehow indescribably masculine taste, that flooded and overwhelmed your mind. It felt like you were at risk of addiction. Nothing had ever or would ever taste this damn divine. The copious amounts of thick, even saltier, precum being pumped into your throat was an excellent, equally addictive addition.

Even though it hurt and strained your jaw to stretch that wide and accommodate its length, the activity felt simply euphoric. If Henry would let you, you’d opt to do nothing more and nothing less than worship his cock, day and night. 

“That’s a good, good boy, Y/N. Lube up my cock.”

You always were one to follow Henry’s instructions. Always one to listen, to be a good, obedient puppy. Maybe that’s why you were his favourite. 

And, as he uttered praise and guided your head with a large hand’s firm grip, you certainly weren’t going to start disobeying now. With a hum of acknowledgement, you dutifully continued your task.

Once satisfied, Henry grunted and lightly tapped the back of your head. 

“That’s good, baby. That’s enough. Come, get off my cock now.” 

Part of you wanted to resist. How were you supposed to tear yourself away from his dick? It sounded impossible. But, you were eager for his praise, to hear him call you a good boy again. So, with one last deep dive down, your nose pressed into his hairy bush and your lips to the base of his shaft, you reluctantly pulled your face away and off of his delicious dick. 

“Good fucking boy. You’re a very, very good boy, Y/N.” 

Your cock throbbed with lust-filled need as you nodded with pure excitement. 

“You deserve a reward. Lay on my desk, Y/N, and let me take care of your now.” 

This was somehow the easiest instruction of the night to follow. You found yourself, now nude with your clothes having been folded just like Henry’s, laying on your back on his wooden desk. The surface felt cold and hard, but the feeling of a sturdy base comforted you. You knew that you’d need it. 

As you took deep, steady breaths. The first of the night, actually. Your mind was trained on one thing, one concern rather. 

How would you take his monstrous cock? 

The answer would come soon. Without warning, your legs were lifted by two strong hands. You looked down, seeing as Henry in all his glory set your ankles on his broad shoulders. He began pressing light kisses to your skin, beard tickling your skin, as he maintained unwavering eye contact. It caused you to let out a soft laugh, which he opted to respond to. 

“Your voice is beautiful, Y/N. Save it for me, okay?” 

You felt it then. His fat, throbbing, steaming hot cock was set beside yours, pressed between your dick and your thigh. He was slowly and subtly moving his hips back and forth, groaning at the sensational friction.

“You’ll let me hear you sing tonight, yeah? Let me hear your wonderful voice, Y/N.” 

His words were sweet like honey. It was almost enough to distract you from the prodding of his thick fingers against your tight hole. But, as you felt them push past your tight ring of muscle, your voice came out like the gates had been torn down, a moan resounding through the room. 

“There you go. Good boy… moan for me. Let me hear each and every one, okay?” 

You stared at him, eyes half-lidded, and nodded with an eager need to please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Deep breaths, Y/N. Deep breaths for me now…”

How could someone so sweet cause so much pain? Henry was hunched over, his large, comforting hands on either side of your head as he hovered his face no more than four inches from yours. His heavy breaths fanned against your cheeks as he kept a steady, solid eye contact between you two. It was wondrous how much fire brewed within you from such a mundane act. 

“Are you ready? I’m going to insert the tip, alright?” 

He looked at you with such care and concern that it almost shocked you. He was a big, hulking man with a terrifyingly huge cock, but as it has come to be shown, a larger heart. It was so damn cheesy, wasn’t it? 

But that didn’t matter as you nodded once again, body unable to take the anticipation, the waiting, for him to shove his fat cock inside. 

…Except maybe it had to. His cockhead slipped inside with ease, but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t fucking painful. You let out a strangled half-moan half-scream, and within seconds, those large hands were patting the side of your head.

“Y/N? Is it too much? I’ll stop, okay? Should I pull out?”

Henry was kissing your forehead, your cheeks, the sides of your lips. He muttered small praises and comforts, every other kiss targeting a tear that had fallen from the pain. He kept true to his word; his hips remained still, his cock not pushing a millimetre further inside. It was from that moment of calm that, as you adjusted to the burning stretch, you were able to speak. 

“D-don’t. Just- give me a second to-“ 

You huffed out, desperate for air. 

“-adjust!” 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. He tasted, somehow, better than his cock. It wasn’t quite something you could place, to be frank. It was a savoury taste, one with hints of candies you couldn’t identify and a tea whose flavour you couldn’t imagine. But it was entirely and wholly the delicious thing you’ve ever or will ever have. 

That was worth getting addicted to. And if Henry would let you, you’d chase that taste every single moment you can. Something told you that yeah, he would. 

“You’re doing so, so good for me, Y/N. So good, you feel so good…” 

Henry’s voice was low and comforting, just as much, if not more than his calming touches. He spoke in whispers between each kiss, and it led you to slowly, but surely, adjust to the pain. Before you had even realised, all you felt was the desire for him to push even further. 

“H-Henry, you can move now… please…” 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” 

Hearing your name roll off his tongue, so casual by this point, only cemented your enthusiasm. You nodded slowly and weakly, smiling the best you could. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful… Hold on to me, and tell me if I need to stop, okay?” 

Your cock nearly bounced at the praise. You eked out another nod as your hands came up to rest on his shoulders, leading him to return your smile with one of his own. And fuck, it was gorgeous. 

He kept his movement slow. It was torturous, but you could appreciate the time and the caution he took. His face watched yours, now scanning for any sign of pain or discomfort. At every wince or scrunch, he would stop, waiting for a nod or smile as your sign of readiness. 

“You feel excellent, Y/N. Being with you… I could get obsessed with this feeling, you know?” 

He leaned down to kiss you yet again. He kissed you, giving you yet another helping of that impossibly lovely taste: his taste. 

And then… then he brushed against your prostate, his cock like a mallet smashing into a button. Even slow, it sent a shock up your spine and a resulting heat through your nerves. Your loud, vulgar moans were taken with great joy and adoration from Henry, his smile only growing fonder. 

“You sound so good, Y/N. Let it out for me…” 

Perhaps you took it a tad too far as your cock, with the pressure to your prostate, burst with another spray of hot, sticky cum that painted both tour and Henry’s stomachs. Such a reaction was met with a warm laughter. 

“Not what I meant, but I’m not complaining. It’s good to know you feel good, baby.” 

He leaned in for yet another kiss and, in the hypnotising exchange, you just barely processed a large, encapsulating hand taking hold of your cock. Henry began to spread your cum across your own shaft, using it to pump your still-sensitive cock towards unbearable pleasure. 

“I’m gonna keep making you feel good, okay?” 

Sweat had beaded all over your skin now, streams running down your body as Henry’s own dripped down and onto your frame. He was pushing just a bit faster now—you almost couldn’t take the wait any longer. That once painful stretch had evolved into pleasure. It had evolved from a burning heat contained to your ass and spread into this resounding, unending warmth washing through you. In the process, it had devolved you into a writhing, moaning mess.

His cock was large, that was certainly clear. It was the kind of large that made your stomach bulge, the kind that you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to take with ease no matter how many times it had fucked you. And shit, you hoped that it would fuck you so, so many more times. 

But your composure only broke down further when his cock seemed to reach so impossibly deep inside, spreading your insides apart like it was trying to break you. Moan after moan fell out as your back arched involuntarily, only accentuating the bulge in your stomach. 

“Baby? Y/N?” 

You hadn’t even realised it, but Henry had stopped pushing himself deeper. Now, as he buried into what felt like the core of you and sent waves of electrifying heat with even the slightest twitch of his dick, his hips were flush against yours. He had bottomed out. 

“Henry…” 

Words other than the man’s name didn’t seem to be able to form. He, however, had so much to say. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing, Y/N. You’re taking me so damn well…” 

The hand not on your cock let go of your face and glided down your body, tracing lines down your shaking body, and stopped just over the bulging portion of your stomach. He brushed it gently, causing yet another crackle of electricity to wrack through you.

“Can… can I start to move?” 

Oh, you could’ve broken your neck with how fast you agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit, shit! You feel so damn good, Y/N.” 

Henry’s calm demeanour had taken a backseat. It was still there, in careful touches to your face and sweet caresses of your body. You could still hear it in every little praise he threw out, and every loving glance he gave your half-lidded eyes. 

His hips, though, had practically lost any form of restraint. 

He withdrew and pushed back in with speed and force, hips slamming with a harsh and sharp slap. Your ass felt sore by this point, but it was a warm, comfortable soreness when paired with the sheer, blinding pleasure of Henry’s cock. 

By the gods, the pleasure was insane. It was driving you mad, your vision going white. His cock, no matter how many times it was thrust into you, remained impossibly large and impossibly deep-reaching. It felt as though it only went deeper and deeper with each push, a result of your fractured state. 

But how could one stay sane when their body was being overwhelmed with such unimaginable pleasure. 

As drool began to spill and your eyes rolled back, Henry was quick to grab you by the chin and lock you into yet another kiss. Unlike the times before, though it carried the same sweetness, it was now heavy with a hunger, a need. He hungered for you, and he needed to fucking ruin you. 

And Henry’s a man who accomplishes his goals, isn’t he? He began thrusting into your harder, harsher than he had before. He thrust over and over and over again, his movements without a single missed beat or second of hesitation. 

His kisses remained constant too. His thick, strong tongue had shoved its way past your pretty lips and began to gnash against your tongue. It was a strange but nonetheless mind numbingly good feeling to have him invade your body even further. 

By now, his grip had transferred to and firmed on your hips. He kept you nice and planted in place on that damn sturdy desk of his, even as each thrust threatened its integrity. His pace was relentless, the wood starting to creak with his forcefulness. 

He drew back, saliva still stringing your mouth and his. 

“Y-you feel good, Y/N?” 

Who knew this man could stutter? But fuck, he made it sound hot. He sounded so lost in the pleasure, and even then, so firm in his every word. 

“Y-yes!” 

He gave a crooked smile at your words. 

“Good! Do you like the way I taste, Y/N? The way my spit tastes?” 

How vulgar was that? And how vulgar was it that, the second you tried to respond with a very clear yes, he decided to drop a fat glob of hot spit onto your cheek? He brought his thumb up to rub it into your skin and, hell, you were about to thank him for it. 

You couldn’t as he cut you off with yet another breathtaking kiss. You were left panting and unable to speak at all when he pulled away.

“You’re a whore, you know? A beautiful, obedient, whore.” 

His words carried no malice, only a heavy lust that he was just barely stopping from pushing him towards ruining your body completely. 

“But you’re my whore, alright? Don’t you ever fucking forget.” 

He slapped your cheek. It wasn’t one of anger, moreso just trying to snap you into focus. He wanted an answer and, as his best and favourite student, he knew he would get a reply out of you. 

“I-I’m your whore, sir!” 

It was a miracle you could speak, really. It was especially miraculous because the second he heard that, with one resounding slam of his hips into yours, you felt it. 

“Fuck, Y/N!”

In the moment, as you arched your back and let your mouth flow with moans at the highest possible volume, Henry’s cock pumped gush after gush of burning hot, viscous, cum. 

It felt like molten steel, an impossible extreme of everything that semen was meant to be. And as such, it brought the pleasure you felt from having your stomach pumped full of it to a high that you could never reach with any drug imaginable. 

And through it, his hips hadn’t chosen to stop. Every thrust was now being punctuated with a new load of cum filling your already full belly, each one followed then with another slap to your ass or lust-driven proclamation of love. 

“God, I love your tight fucking ass-”

You were screaming as you came at the height of the moment’s intensity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure when the night ended, exactly. It seemed that the man had fucked you for hours on end, until he had emptied his fat balls’ storage of cum and filled your belly with it. He had fucked you till your cock hurt, and each climax produced a dry orgasm due to empty tanks. 

He had fucked you till you were left unable to think of anything but his cock and the taste of his sweet, delicious lips.  

And now, he was buried deep inside you still, pressing kiss after kiss to your neck as you desperately gasped for air. 

“Did I go too hard? Are you hurt, Y/N?” 

Your body was, in fact, aching. It was this numb, almost muffled pain that was eclipsed—or perhaps even part of—this euphoric pleasure that continued to grasp you. Things no longer felt real, at this point, but a dream you’d rather not wake from. 

But things were very much reality, and that included a high-off-sex and full-of-affection Henry. 

“I apologise for the slaps, they were rather forceful…” 

You managed out a shake of the head to signal a no. The laugh that he gave, boisterous yet quiet, made your heart pound again. 

“I see. I suppose we’ll need ample time to explore what we both enjoy, hm?” 

The idea of more time with Henry, more time doing this, was certainly exciting. He didn’t need more than your dumb little smile, one you couldn’t wipe off your face even if you wanted or tried to, to tell you thought. 

“I can see you like the prospect, hm?” 

Another chuckle and another kiss. What bliss this was. 

“I’m going to pull out now, so that we can both get cleaned up, okay? Just breathe for me, Y/N, just like earlier.” 

You tried to follow, you really did. But as your hole was quickly left empty, gaping and clenching around nothing, you couldn’t help but whine unintelligible mutterings. Henry responded with even more pecks to your lips and caresses to your soft, delicate skin. 

Henry was certainly a gentleman. He had taken some tissues from the box he reserved for students with colds and used then to to clean the outer portion of your sloppy hole. His hands, as large as they were, moved soft and delicate, careful not to press against any overly sensitive parts. 

He had taken to cleaning himself—drying his cock, much to your dismay, with more paper towels. He had noticed your sadness and, with an admittedly smug smirk, said he’d allow you to suck his cock clean next time. It was still strange, even after the night you had had with him, to hear such lewd language uttered from the refined man’s mouth.

By the time he had dressed himself, your breathing had steadied. Your backside was still sore and leaking, but he had promised to help with that back at his apartment. 

Wait.

His apartment? 

“Ah, would you rather not? I can clean you up in the facilities here and-” 

“No, no! I’d-”

You coughed. All the sweat, mixed with what was now cool night air, had left your body just a tad sick. Well, that and the exhaustion from having taken on such an impossible task and cock. 

“-love to. I’d love to go home with you, Henry.” 

He smiled like he hadn’t heard anything quite as lovely before. You smiled back in return. 

He was the eager to tug on your boxers and wrap you in his suit jacket as a means of decency. He lifted you up bridal-style and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The man was strong and, with the ease that was carrying you, he even held your folded clothing in the hand supporting your butt. 

You even found the strength to be humorous in the moment, letting out a joking, “Ooh, strong guy, huh?” 

He graced you yet again with one of those pure, unadulterated laughs.

“I’m glad to have had this one on one session with you, Y/N. Certainly was productive, wasn’t it?”

THANK YOU to my lovely beta readers! There's a shit ton GAHAH

@inhumanshadows @worstwolverinesbf @darlingminjin @alatrysev @starboye @spermeboy @starrykie @sleep-0-deprived @slytherslvt @kurominis

Love you all :D you're all soooo nice and helped me finish this with your kind comments! Hope I didn't let you down with the end :>

[stilesstlinski]

‘Jekyll and Hyde’ wasn’t the most sensitive way to describe Void, but it certainly was accurate, so Stiles appreciated the honesty behind her question. “Yeah. But it’s more than that, y’know?” He glanced down with a sigh, noting that his hands were no longer trembling. Talking to Rose was proving a good distraction, as he’d theorised. She didn’t tiptoe around difficult subjects, or tell Stiles what he wanted to hear, instead of what he needed. He owed her the same in response. “Ever since I died it’s just gotten worse. The not sleeping, the jumpiness. Constantly feeling like something terrible is going to happen, again. It’s like drowning. Do you ever feel like that?” She seemed so put together, but perhaps Rose was better at hiding her anxiety. Or maybe he was right, maybe it was just him. She hadn’t come back with an evil alter ago, after all.

“I don’t, actually.” Stiles interjected quickly, before she continued. It was important to him that she realised he valued her opinion. If he didn’t, they wouldn’t even be having this conversation. He sat in silence from that point, letting her speak her piece. Unfortunately, she wasn’t saying anything he wasn’t already aware of. His relationship with Scott had been strained for months, and it was doing Stiles no favours. Without his brother, his panic attacks were more frequent, as was his loneliness. He felt like half of a whole person, especially considering the pack bond caused it to become a very physical absence. “Yeah. Yeah I know,” he replied, lips pressing together. 

Deep down, Stiles knew that Scott valued him a great deal, and loved him. But his own insecurities and jealousy were hard to dig through, and often in his need for reassurance, Stiles only pushed Scott further away. He hated feeling as though he were competing for his brother’s attention, or becoming a burden. His distrust ruled him, too, finding Scott’s new friends hard to accept. “I just need some time first. I think he does, too.” Alexandria was already proving to be hard work, and there were far more people that needed Scott’s time and assistance. Stiles could fly solo until the dust settled, more than used to his own suffering. “He’s better equipped than everyone, that’s why he’s in such high demand.” Still, Rose had offered her own shoulder, so he wasn’t entirely alone. “We’ll fix it. I’ll — fix it. Just not yet.”

“And you didn’t feel like that before?” Stiles questioned, genuinely intrigued now. Not only was Rose feeling the lack; Dean was, too. Maybe they really did need their bonded counterparts to feel healthy. “I feel sick and tired all the time. Constantly, since I came back.” He nodded, feeling more motivated to find whoever the girl was now, so he could prove their hypothesis. Stiles also found himself wondering why there was distance between Rose and Wanda now, and if the reason related to his own experience with Caroline. Wanda didn’t seem like the unforgiving type, especially in consideration of the circumstances. They’d had no choice, after all. “We need to find out more about who we are. There’s gotta’ be more to us than automatic killing machines.”

“Apparently,” Stiles said, laughing at his own misfortune. His rebirth had been one mystery he hadn’t been able to resolve, yet, and it was driving him insane. He hated the uncertainty, the not knowing. If he could figure it out, he could help himself, and the others, too. Stiles was desperate for the connection that she was describing, so he could truly begin to decipher which issues stemmed from what. His species, his bonded partner, the pack, or his own personality. With so many emotions and voices in his mind, it was no wonder why he constantly felt strung out. 

Rose continued on with her explanation, but in a very sudden rush of fear and adrenaline, Stiles lost all focus. Her speech began to seemingly blur together, no longer understandable. The hands which she’d comfortingly held a moment ago began to viciously shake again, and despite his own confusion, Stiles was certain this wasn’t his own doing. Talking to Rose had eased his worries, and given him some clarity, so this could only be a result of one of the aforementioned stressors. His heart felt as though it were going to pound through his chest, and his saliva started to taste metallic. No, not metallic. It tasted like blood. 

“Rose -” Stiles reached for her, fingers erratically scraping along the table that separated them. By the time he’d gotten close, his vision was gone entirely. “Oh, fu ��” His mind followed a second later, transported into that of someone else, and Stiles’ body fell sideward out of his chair, collapsing onto the floor below.

Rose pouted at the sarcasm, but refrained from rolling her eyes, used to it from him by now. Still, it was hard to tell how honest he was being underneath the attitude, thus how concerned she should be. She hadn’t known him for his whole life, after all. But considering the explanation that came after, Rose decided to trust in the sarcasm. Besides, she’d never seen him this jumpy before. Irritable, yes, but not visibly shaking for a prolonged period of time. “Are you talking about your… uh, ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ thing?” It was the softest way she could think of to word it. Rose had a feeling she was right, of course, but wanted total clarity to help get to the bottom of it. 

As if exampling that very same intuition, her suspicion about the continued rockiness of Scott and Stiles’ relationship proved true. Rose frowned, unsettled to hear it anyway, gaze full of concern. “Stiles… I know you probably think I’m full of shit most of the time, but I need you to listen to me now. You two have to work this crap out, stat. It’s not helping you, and I know without really knowing that it’s not good for him, either. Plus, you know he’d do anything for you. Everyone needs a Scott on their side, and you’re at like the top of his list, dude. Even if all this shit, whatever it is, was his fault, talk to him about this, or I swear to god, I will drag both your asses out and have some gross group therapy. Don’t push me.”

She sat back with a huff, feeling she was done saying her piece; but it suddenly dawned on her how it might’ve sounded. Rose didn’t want to seem like she wasn’t there for him at all. “— Wait, don’t get me wrong, okay, I’m not trying to palm off all the responsibility onto you two either. Of course you can talk to me, now and whenever, but I just -” She sighed, unsure how to word the lack of confidence she was currently feeling. “I just feel like he’s better equipped to handle this than me, or anyone. That goes for pretty much everything, actually. And he loves you a lot, so that’s a pretty good duo. That’s all I’m saying. And I’m done now, I swear, so if you wanna talk to me, I’ll shut up. I’m listening.”

Rose sighed, feeing it was safe to assume the Caroline thing had something to do with their surprise programming. “I know there’s so much shit we don’t know, and can’t confirm, but… ever since the Capitol, what they triggered in us… I haven’t been around Wanda much. At all, actually. But the longer I’m apart from her, I swear it’s like draining me. I’m exhausted, nauseous, sometimes. And she’s faded, you know? I just can’t feel her as close anymore. It wasn't like that before. Dean told me something similar once, and he’s been looking like real shit lately. He doesn’t know who his connection is either. So, we might be making it up, maybe it’s all coincidence, but maybe it’s not. We felt unwell, like, always in the Capitol.” She shrugged, feeling that sense of intuition again. “This is my roundabout way of asking if you’ve felt the same? Because maybe that’s how you work it out. The closer you are to them, the better you may feel.”

Her concerned gaze returned at hearing his questions, and without thinking about it, she’d instinctively reached out to hold the hand that still shook. “If it’s just you, then we’ll work that out. You’ve got so many people on your side, Stiles, you’re not going to be alone in this. Besides, you’re famous for working things out, right?” At his next question, Rose sat back in thought, having not really thought about it like that. “I guess, in a few ways, yes. Like for the distance thing, I reckon it helps. Does for me, anyway. Also, I guess you automatically become the person who knows them best, so if you get all these foreign emotions, you know there’s something up and can then help get rid of it, so you feel better, too. Does that make sense?”

[finelinevogue]

spreading the love

summary - harry’s fans LOVE you

pairing - fiancé!harry x reader

word count - ~2k

The fans absolutely loved you.

Probably more so than Harry sometimes.

You were often the subject headline of news articles that were actually about Harry. You were often asked about in interviews that Harry was doing. You were often stopped before Harry on the streets. Not that Harry minded in the slightest because, well, he understood.

Obviously, no one could love you more than he did but he understood the publics addiction towards you.

You hadn’t come from much and you weren’t a name people knew before you started dating Harry. Somehow, somewhere, along the way you had become a somebody.

And everyone adored you.

Whether it was your kind nature, you loving heart, your gorgeous smile or your generous soul, you never went unloved by anyone. Not even the cruelest hearted person could have anything bad to say about you.

You loved being involved with the fans too. You often gave a lot back to them just because they were the most dedicated and loyal people you knew.

You loved how much they loved your Harry.

“Hello, hello!” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you started your Instagram live.

Your viewers shot up from 3k to 104k in ten seconds - that’s how popular you had become with the fans and media.

“How are we all today? Feeling good? I’m feeling good since it’s a Friday. It’s my weekend off tomorrow.”

Everyone knew that you were an NHS nurse and did so much for the people you worked with and beside, which only added to the cause of people loving you.

ellaking107: what are you doing with your weekend off?💛

“Hi Ella! This weekend I am staying home with Harry. We have got a very boring weekend planned unfortunately. Our bathroom is having a redecoration and so we need to wait for the tile man to pop in at some point so he can start measuring up bits and pieces. I’m sure H will drag me for a run or to a pilates class too.”

You were situated in your lounge, lots of plants and good lighting surrounding you.

harryissmiling101: Where is Harry?

“Ummm, so Harry is currently at his mum’s. Maybe this is too much information, but his mum’s fridge broke and so all her food went off. Harry and I made loads of dishes though last night for her, so Harry’s dropped them all off along with a spare fridge we had. I know… Don’t ask why we had a spare fridge.”

You watched as you cat, Kira, came through the lounge door and hopped up onto the sofa you were sat on. You turned the camera so everyone could see her.

“My child says hello to you all. Don’t you Ki?” You began stroking her little black and white chin. “Oh you’re so gorgeous. I love you so much.”

haileyjudd: Harry or Kira?

“Hailey I can’t believe you’re even asking me that… Hailey said, choose between Harry and Kira. Honey, there’s no doubt about it. Obviously, Kira.” You laughed.

You knew some magazine would twist your words later and make it seem like you and Harry were going through a rocky patch in your relationship, but you knew the truth. Harry was completely whipped for you and there wasn’t a single chance he was leaving you. Ever. Then again, the feeling is very mutual.

Kira came closer to you and sat in your lap, nestling herself deep into the blanket you had draped over the top of you.

jammiiie: Are you single please?

“Hi Jamie, potentially.. maybe… Uh, no. I am not single and this will remain my answer indefinitely.” You smiled, thinking about how clingy Harry would get if you had read that out whilst he was say next to you.

Harry doesn’t get jealous, oh no.

He gets clingy. And you love it.

You love when he’s constantly doting on you; kissing you. He loved on you like he has to remind you your his (even though you always will be).

harriesassemble: Y/N can I ask you a question? My boyfriend told me that I have to shave (you know where) but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. How do I tell him? (Don’t answer if you feel uncomfortable)🤍

“Wait.. Hang on a second..” You spoke slowly, slowing the speed of the comments as you traced back to a comment that caught your attention.

“Hi, sorry I’m not sure what your name is, but I hope you are still here and know I’m speaking to you!“ You re-read out loud the comment posted so everyone knew what you were going to talk about. “So, first of all, girl to girl, if he is forcing you to do something as personal as shaving yourself then, my love, he’s not worth your time or breath.”

ophelialover: oh i am so here for y/n’s girl talk time

harrielover: y/n is so big sister coded

“Don’t do anything that you don’t want to do. Do not force yourself to be making changes to yourself just to please a man, or any significant other for that matter. If Harry ever forced me to make a change to myself I didn’t want, he knows where the door is. Seriously, honey, you’re perfect and never change unless you want to.”

harriesassemble: Thank you!🩷

kingsofharry: You’re amazinf Y/N <33

justkeepdriving: WE LOVE YOU Y/N

liked by y/nl/nofficial and 1,976 others

harriesassemble i can’t believe y/n just followed me i am in shock right now :((( she’s my favourite person in the whole world and everything they said to me this evening was just so special:(( im shaking so bad i love y/n so much❤️

view all 394 comments

harryfan1 OH THIS IS SO COOL

harryfan2 omg you were who y/n was talking to??? congrats!!!!!

y/nl/nofficial You’re amazing!💛

harryfan3 we stan y/n

••••••••••

London was quite busy today.

Lots of tourists bustling through the city as well as the daily commuters wandering around on their lunch breaks.

Harry had decided to take the afternoon off since you also had it off, organising to take you for a bite to eat and a coffee at your favourite cafe.

It was a cafe bookstore, so you got to browse books whilst waiting for your food and then got to sit amongst the books whilst you ate. It was a dream fantasy of yours as a child and you’re grateful someone brought that fantasy to life.

Harry held your hand securely as you wandered through the London streets.

Luckily Harry had secured a paparazzi ban years ago that meant that no paps were legally allowed to take photos of Harry in London, so it was just fan photos that you had to be aware of.

“Angela asked me to give her your number again today.” You said to Harry.

“She’s relentless.” Harry laughed.

“She just wants to know when her future grandson-in law is going to become her in-law.”

“Baby, I’ve told you before - I’m not asking until I’m ready.” He squeezed your hand.

“No, I know. I just want Nana Angela to be alive when we get married.”

“She will be. I promise.”

You both came to a stop at a red pedestrian light. Harry pulled you back slightly, because he knew that you liked to stand far too close to the edge of the pavement.

You looked up to Harry, watching as he took in his surroundings through a pair of brown sunglasses.

“C’mere a minute.” You said, directing his head to face you.

You reached up and unclipped your claw clip from his hair and ruffled the locks until he had a messy middle parting. You bit the clip between your teeth as you messed with his hair.

“What was wrong with m’hair?” He chuckled.

“Prefer it down like this.” You shrugged your shoulders and clipped the claw clip to the top of your jumper.

You smiled at your handy work.

He looked even more handsome now.

As you crossed the road, you spotted someone with a Love on Tour tote bag. It was one of the newest ones. It was being carried by a girl in her early 20s, maybe.

You poked Harry and pointed him towards the girl.

“She had good taste in music.” He joked.

You didn’t mean to follow this girl, but only happened to stop at another pedestrian red light next to her. You stood beside her and noticed she had headphones on.

You couldn’t help yourself from nudging her shoulder. As you prodded her, she gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth in shock. She quickly took off her headphones and giggled a hi out.

“Love the tote bag!” You smiled brightly.

“Ha ha thank you! Oh my God I can’t believe you’re actually here right now.” She laughed.

“Yup. Both of us.” You pulled Harry a little closer into you.

“Hi, you alright?” He spoke shyly, as ever when he is introduced to someone new.

“This isn’t real! Holy shit.” The girl laughed the situation off. “I was nearly not going to wear this tote bag today as well.”

“Well it must be a good luck charm then.” You laughed. “Which show did you go to?”

“Wembley night 4.”

“Ahh!! The best one then!” You exclaimed, Harry chuckling from behind you.

You always did this.

You managed to make friends with absolutely anybody on the streets, over the smallest of connections. You especially loved making friends with Harry’s fans.

“Well I think so, but I might be biased.” She shrugged.

“It was one of our favourite shows, wasn’t it H?” You nudged him into the conversation, knowing that he struggles with that.

“Yeah definitely. Wembley was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” He nodded with a smile, looking at you more so than the girl. “I’m glad you enjoyed it and thank you for the support, it means a lot.”

You internally smiled at the small spiel that you had prepped with him for occasions where he might bump into a fan.

“What was your favourite part?” You asked curiously.

“Sign of The Times in the rain.”

“Oh stop! You’re going to make me force Harry into to going on another tour ASAP just to experience that again.”

“Oh, because of course I can control the rain too love.” Harry laughed, which made you both chuckle with him.

“Shut up.” You judged him in the ribs. “Well it was lovely to meet you…”

“Emma.”

“Emma.” You smiled.

“Thank you for your continued support, Emma.” Harry added. “Would you like a photo?”

“Uh.. Y-yes? Yes please! If that’s okay with you?” Emma politely checked.

“Of course. Just as long as you wait a little bit to post it so our location isn’t instantly publicised.”

“Yes. Of course! Thank you.”

“Here, honey, give me your phone.” You held out your hand, thinking that she would have wanted you to take a photo of just her and Harry.

“You have to be in it too, Y/N!” Emma exclaimed.

“Yeah, Y/N/N.” Harry rolled his eyes at your silliness. “C’mere.” Harry roped his arm around your waist and brought you to stand slightly in front of him. Emma was directly next to you and you all smiled as she lifted her arm to take a selfie. Harry’s cheek was pressed near against yours.

“They okay?” Harry asked.

“Perfect. Thank you guys so much.” Emma smiled so brightly.

After you parted ways you couldn’t help but imagine how electric Emma must be feeling right now. Harry seemed to be happy too, because you were happy after such a heartwarming conversation.

Positive interactions just made for better days.

Later, Emma would post that photo and the comments were even more wholesome.

comment 1: the way y/n and harry are stood so close to each other

comment 2: the fact harry has his literal cheek pressed against y/ns makes me WEEP

comment 3: they look so happy i will cry

•••••••

Another place where you would find wholesome content from the fans was the world of social media.

Normally, with Harry’s previous relationship’s, they would get absolutely hated on social media. There would always be something that would get dug out from someone’s past which meant they weren’t “right” for Harry. All of it was bullshit and Harry’s previous relationships had ended because he never felt “right” with anyone.

Until you.

You were now sat with Harry’s family around a small fire pit in Anne’s back garden.

Her lovely house had a beautiful garden that was perfect for dinner evening drinks and conversations. You often think about returning here with Harry and his last name one day.

“Top up, Y/N?” Anne asked, holding out the bottle red wine up to your wine glass that empty on the table.

“Oh, no thanks Anne.” You warmly smiled.

You were comfortably nestled in Harry’s lap with a blanket drawn over the two of you. Harry was nursing his own red wine with one hand, whilst the other supported your back from where you were sat sideways across his legs. Your head was nuzzled just below his chin and your hands were busy fiddling with his necklaces.

“You okay, m’love?” Harry asked you, so only you could hear.

“Mhm. Wine has made me sleepy.”

“Rest if you need to, i’m right here.” He kissed the top of your head.

You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and opened it up to Twitter.

You followed a multitude of Harry’s fans on Twitter, simply for the shits and giggles. It had become a challenge to see who would be the next person that you would follow.

Scrolling through Twitter you noticed a lot of people reposting a photo of you and Harry that got leaked today. You were both simply walking through the park, but the photo clearly showed you wearing Harry’s hoodie and everyone was screaming over it.

harriesunite: these are my parents

“H, baby, look.” You giggled as you showed him the tweet.

“Hmm?” He tucked his face down into your neck as he read your phone, and leaving your neck warm after he laughed.

“You’re such a dad, apparently.”

“Not yet I’m not.” He kissed your exposed neck, but only once when he remembered he was sat in front of his mum.

“Y’want to be?” You turned your head a little to the side to see him better.

“Whenever you want to be a mum, yeah.” He smiled so brightly.

“Soon.”

“Yeah, soon.” Harry nodded in agreement.

[chirpy-poppy]

Our Pin

When Darkwick allows you to choose one of the houses to join, how will they convince you?

Inspired by this ask/post.

Frostheim “Wait,” Jin grunts at you as you approach the door, done with his errands for the day. He tosses something at you which you barely manage to catch. When you do, you recognize the deep blue pin. “You’d be set for life with the connections you make here. Choose wisely.” Jin is a man of few words, but you’d hear most of Frostheim’s pitch from Kaito who basically begs you to join them. Lucas would come with a few logical points about why you should choose Frostheim, and Tohma would keep you so busy with tasks, you wouldn’t be able to visit other houses during your decision period.

Vagastrom “It’ll be pretty cool if we lived a little closer together, Senpai. I’ll cook for you every day.” Sho is the only one who’d want you at Vagastrom. Alan gives you a stern warning not to do something so dangerous. Leo’s existence alone convinces you to stay far away.

JabberwockThey use their fluffy animals to their full advantage. Haru takes you on a Cappybus tour to see all the cutest animals while Towa engulfs you in the most fragrant flowers. Ren might actually beg you to join them too since you are actually willing to do the chores. Towa gives you such a puppy look while Haru discreetly pins the orange brooch onto your lapel. Peekaboo lets out the saddest “Booo” when you leave for the day. How can you ever refuse them? 

SinostraRomeo had given Taiga a lecture on their objective just before you were scheduled to meet them, so the captain actually remembers who you are when you walk in. “Hello, Kitten,” he purrs as you come in with some documents. He somehow gets you strapped into his torture chair and is about to stab the brooch into your jacket when Romeo bursts in. “You’re supposed to convince her, not force her!” “Why? It’s so much easier this way.” Taiga spins his revolver before placing it on your temple. Ritsu steps in at this moment to quote some law that no one is really paying attention to. Taiga and Romeo get into such an argument that no one notices you slipping away and running for your life.

Hotarubi The three invite you over for tea. At the end of it, Subaru presents you with the amethyst brooch in an intricately carved wooden box. “We would love it if you would join Hotarubi, PC. Of course, we want you to make the decision you believe is best for you, but you should know you are always welcomed and appreciated here.” As Haku walks you home, he purposefully takes a scenic route through Hotarubi. He’d gently pitch his own house but reminds you they are here for you no matter what decision you make. 

ObscuaryWas unfortunately not one of the options available to you. Rui is quite relieved though. He isn’t sure how he can live constantly worried about touching something as weak as a human. He also knows he could never live with himself if something happened to you, and the risk of it increases so much more if you stayed in his dorm. Lyca is completely bummed though. He thought he had a chance to finally have a friend at the dorm. He does not understand why you can’t stay at Obscuary since he’s here and he’s human too. Ed thinks it’s a shame, but he is sure you’d visit often still.

Mortkranken“Humph! You should feel honored to even be considered joining Mortkranken,” Yuri gloats, dangling the brooch in front of you. “He desperately wants you to join,” Jiro deadpans. “Jiro! Can you shut it! I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you did since you are a very interesting subject.” Yuri’s blush isn’t fooling anyone as he shoves the teal accessory into your hands. Despite his shyness, he still keeps you around for another three hours helping him pipette. As you get ready to leave, he calls your name. “Consider it. You… You aren’t repulsive, at least.”

A/N: Thank you to those who sent in prompts. I'm sorry if I don't get to yours, but I will only be writing those that spark an idea. I don't want to write something bleh just to fulfill an ask. Thank you for your submission though!

[jesswritesthat]

Todoroki Shōto: Smile

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1k, fluff, humour

• Todoroki is acting differently, and it all started after an ‘interview’ with Mount Lady.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

It was a very suspicious change, a small difference you wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t know Todoroki as well as you do.

The fire and ice hero had never had an issue when in your presence before, at least once passing the initial barrier of awkwardness when you’d first met. Todoroki wasn’t adapted to friendship or social interaction on a more casual level, and he was still learning now, but that didn’t explain the sudden change in behaviour.

Shōto wasn’t one to smile often, but recently he’d started to do so around you during heartwarming moments or after a witty comment. At least until he’d started covering them with his hand, burying his face in a jacket, or simply turning his head away from you. At first, you thought it was a coincidence but he didn’t display the same actions toward other classmates, at least not as often.

Unfortunely, Shōto was difficult to read in this situation as he hadn’t treated you any differently than before aside from concealing his smile, which meant you’d have to ask him directly if you wanted to understand.

It was an evening after class that you’d caught him in the dorms and asked to go for a walk around the grounds together. Once in the privacy of your own company, you brought up the concept when he’d once again diverted his gaze in your opposing direction when laughing.

“Hey Shōto, why are you always turning away from me when you smile?” You’d spoken casually, an airy tone used to lighten the subject but there was still a moment of contemplative silence before he spoke.

“I… I don’t want you to die.”

“I’d like to think you wouldn’t spontaneously set me aflame or freeze me to death.” A brief laugh escaped you, but he seemed happy.

“Never (Y/n). It was just something someone said, don’t worry about it.” Then he changed the subject, a sign he was embarrassed to elaborate at this current time.

———

The likelihood of getting further insight without directly prying Shōto was unlikely, and so you received enlightenment courtesy of an offhanded comment made to Izuku the following week.

“Has Shoto mentioned about not wanting you to die?”

“Hm? Not recently.” The green haired teen shook his head, but looked at you buzzing with curiosity.

“Ah. Then it’s just me he’s acting weird around, he refuses to smile.”

This comment allowed for Izuku to configure the situation for a second before sparking to life with renewed enthusiasm.

“I think I might know what you mean! He did an interview with Mount Lady but took it too literally I bet.” The young hero hurriedly explained the scenario that occurred during their Interview Training Lesson.

That’s when it all made sense, he’d mistaken Mount Ladys’ compliment on his attractiveness for the cause of a death toll. Amusing. Even more so to think you’d be one of his victims - you have to correct that right away.

“Shōto?” You’d knocked on his dorm, and naturally he’d opened the door to your right away with a degree of concern.

“(Y/n), are you okay?”

“Yes, I wanted to talk to you about the other day.”

He tilted his head slightly in curiosity but welcomed you in to his classic Japanese style room nonetheless.

“You don’t smile at me anymore, so I don’t drop dead.” It was spoken as a statement rather than like questioning his actions, as you knew it all too well.

“…It sounds ridiculous when you say it.” A hand awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck with a deadpan expression on his face when meeting your bemused features.

Once solidifying your composure, which took a minute as admittedly it was a challenge in itself to withhold your laughter for the sake of understanding his feelings.

“Two things.” You held up two digits whilst Shōto nodded sincerely, ready for you to continue.

“People are highly unlikely to die if you smile at them, Mount Lady was joking.”

“Yeah I figured. Based on both past experience and the fact Uraraka is still alive.” The icyhot user tiredly sighed, offering a small but guilty quirk of his lips.

“Which brings me to my second point, why were you so conscious of smiling around me? Especially since Ochaco got a smile out of you.” You crossed your arms now with a hint of mirth lacing your tone, rather intrigued by his potential explanation. However his voice remained confident and sincere, replying as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Because you’re the one I care about most. As you are the last person I’d want to inadvertently kill, it makes sense to be so conscious of my actions toward you doesn’t it?”

Now you were left speechless, just like he was during the initial interview, only able to stare at him blankly.

“Shōto you… care about me most?”

“Did it not come across that way? I always try to be—“ His voice was genuinely worried he hadn’t given you the right impression, you could already see him thinking of ways to correct his mistake, which is why you cut him off with assurance.

“No no it did, I just thought— nevermind. Please don’t hide your smile from me anymore, I likely won’t die upon seeing it.”

This time, when a soft smile graced his lips when looking at you, he didn’t attempt to shy away of cover it with his hand. The gesture of course was reciprocated.

———

Izuku was the one to find you pondering the matter later on though, despite the situation already being resolved.

“I assume you figured it all out with Todoroki?”

“Oh yeah, he said something that caught me off guard though.” It was the dampening tone you’d used that lead Midoriya to take a seat beside you, kind and upbeat tone ringing true.

“Really? Want to talk about it?”

“Well, he said he was so conscious about smiling around me because I’m the one he cares about the most. I didn’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, Todoroki is a person who’d give you time to consider. I am glad he finally confessed to you though.”

It was silent for a moment, your mind felt like a record short-circuiting and repeating his words with declining clarity, meanwhile Izuku seemed oblivious to the personal intel he’d accidentally divulged after misreading the events.

“…”

“…”

“Um… Izuku.” You took a deep, preparing breath. “He didn’t confess to me.”

You saw the sheer panic wash over him like a tidal wave, his freckled skin significantly paler which is when the frantic apologies set in.

“I’m so sorry (L/n)! I wasn’t supposed to tell you that, Todoroki is going to hate me! Forgive me for misinterpreting the situation - I’ll have to tell him I’ve ruined his—“

Quickly you waved your hands in surrender, a feeble attempt at calming him prior to justifying your lack of anxiety compared to his.

“No, it’s okay Izuku. There’s no need for any of that.”

“Huh?! But I—“ His voice was still raised slightly, searching you for any kind of reasoning.

“I like him too. Now it’s even, you know both of our feelings.” The soft smile you wore, and your honest words, reverted the boy back to his original state - once again his cheery self.

“You do? That is good news, but what do you intend to do with that information?”

“I’ll wait until he’s ready to tell me himself.” It was a gentle shrug that accompanied your reply, content to do so.

“I understand (L/n).” The bright boy smiled brightly, to which you gladly accepted and hummed in thought.

“Besides, I’m interested to see what a confession from Todoroki Shōto would be like.”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[musicalmoritz]

It’s canon Mitsuba’s gay?

I’m gonna use this as an excuse to yap because Mitsuba’s queercoding is either weirdly downplayed by fans or used solely for BL shipping purposes so I want to talk about it through the lens of what it means for his character, role in the story, and relationship with Kou

Yes, Mitsuba is canonically gay

Things don’t have to be explicitly stated in order to be canon, subtext is a major part of media analysis. This is something a lot of fans miss which leads to a misunderstanding of the source material. I do have some credentials for this, I’ve taken two undergrad college literature classes in which the subject of queercoding did come up multiple times. Meaning analyzing queercoding has literally gone towards my degree so I feel like my opinion holds some weight (not as much as that of an actual English major but yk I assume I’ve had more education on it than the general TBHK fandom)

There are multiple ways to queercode a character, sometimes it can be as simple as feminizing a man or masculinizing a woman. Though that method might be a bit outdated nowadays with gender roles becoming less strict, it’s still worth keeping in mind when analyzing queer characters. Another way is through romantically colored scenes with characters of the same sex, or by having them hint at disinterest in the opposite sex. Mitsuba checks off all three of these boxes and then some

First off, Mitsuba is attracted to men. This is made extremely obvious through his relationship with Kou but I’m gonna explain it anyways because unfortunately I’ve seen a lot of fans say they’re just platonic

Mitsuba and Kou went on a date. When this is brought up, fans typically jump to the excuse of “but Kou said it wasn’t a date,” which is where my American Lit class is going to come in handy. One of the major things we learned is that authors have to understand that everything they write has some sort of real world connotation. If you write a scene with a doctor, you have to understand that your readers already have preconceived notions of what doctors represent. You can choose to either lean into that or subvert it, but you have to be aware that as soon as a doctor enters the scene, readers have already made assumptions about that character

The word “date” is clearly being used in a romantic context here. When Kou texts his friends and brother about it, they all assume he’s talking about a romantic date. While in the actual context of the scene, Mitsuba and Kou aren’t quite ready to use such a strong label yet, the romantic wording here is still very intentional. AidaIro would not have labeled this moment as a date if they didn’t want readers to view it in a romantic light, because they understand that their readers are going to associate dates with romance. Japanese censorship is really strict, it’s hard to publish stories with explicitly queer characters unless the series is labeled as a BL or GL. And so Japanese manga writers often have to find roundabout ways to express that characters are gay without outright stating it- such as suggesting that they’re going on a date with a character of the same sex

In the printed volume for Vol.20, there’s an editor’s note that mentions that when Kou and Mitsuba are making plans to hang out at the school festival, it holds a romantic implication for the Japanese audience. Cultural differences are important to keep in mind, to western fans this scene might not raise any eyebrows but for its primary audience, it is confirmation that Mitsuba and Kou are romantic. I also find it interesting that the editor felt this context was important enough to warrant clarification

And frankly, their relationship doesn’t make a lot of sense if it’s solely platonic. Male friendship is something TBHK writes very realistically, the male characters aren’t as touchy-feely with their friends as they are with their female love interests. Yokoo and Satou don’t directly ask Kou how he’s feeling when they notice he’s upset, instead they give him a task to distract him- similar to how men in real life cheer their friends up through quality time rather than talking through their emotions like women do (not every man ofc but a good majority of them). When Teru is down, Akane doesn’t hold him and reassure him the way he does with Aoi. There are no grand declarations of ultimate “friendship” the way you see in fan servicy series like Haikyuu. Instead, he used his and Teru’s rivalry to indirectly motivate him to get his head back in the game. When Hanako is sad, Kou cheers him up by making donuts for him and then giving them to Nene so she can pretend she’s the one who made them. This is a very healthy portrayal of male friendship, and Mitsuba and Kou are nothing like this

Mitsuba and Kou both cry and vent to each other multiple times (the Mitsuba Arc, the Picture Perfect Arc, the Nightlife Arc), and instead of comforting each other indirectly they do things like offering to die for each other. You would never see Akane offer to die to make Teru feel better, nor would you Aoi and Nene or Kou and Hanako. It stands out so much from other friendships in the series, even Kou’s friendships with other characters. That is a conscious writing decision, AidaIro make a point to show Mitsuba as an exception for Kou. It’s worth noting that in the same chapter where Yokoo and Satou cheer Kou up indirectly, Mitsuba attempts to directly have him talk about his feelings

They’re also incredibly possessive over one another, in a way friends usually aren’t. When Kou was in the Red House, he was shown his greatest desires, and Mitsuba appeared in one of these. Kou said he knew Mitsuba would appear, which is interesting because at that point he had already picked up on the house showing him what he wanted. But what does he want? He wants Mitsuba to rely on him entirely, to be completely useless without him. He wants Mitsuba to be “no good without him,” to need him so badly that he begs him to die so they can be together. I’m not exaggerating, these are lines pulled straight from the chapter (paraphrased but still). Later on in the Nightlife arc, Kou breaks down when he discovers Mitsuba has been relying on Tsukasa for life-saving help. As for Mitsuba, he wants to die by Kou’s hands. He says it wouldn’t be satisfying if anyone else killed him, and that he would be happy if Kou were to be the last person he spent time with before he died. He tries to trap Kou in a picture perfect world just like Hanako does with Nene, because he wants to live a normal life with him. It’s also shown in one of the extras that Mitsuba cries when Kou ignores him

They’re also drawn very romantically, again we don’t see Teru and Akane this intimate with one another unless they’re fighting. We especially don’t see Kou this intimate with anyone other than Mitsuba, and while Mitsuba is sometimes clingy with Tsukasa we certainly never see him posed romantically with a woman. This comes back to authorial intent and real world connotations, AidaIro know that male friends aren’t typically this close, and therefore casual affection like this will be interpreted in a romantic light. We see them hold hands/wrists multiple times too, Kou gives Mitsuba a piggyback ride in one scene, and in ASHK they had a classic “pinned against the wall” page

I’ll also mention the AUs, because those indicate a lot about the characters as well. In Hanako-Kun of the Opera, Kou poisoned Mitsuba so he could take him away from the opera house and protect him from Tsukasa. He basically kidnapped him. He also stayed with Mitsuba at the opera house for a seemingly long period of time despite hating opera. Aaaaand they’re childhood best friends in this au and Kou took care of Mitsuba while he was sick

Then there’s the Ghost Hotel, where Kou is a werewolf who takes bites out of mummy Mitsuba during full moons. Despite this, the two appear to be friends and Mitsuba helps Kou out around the kitchen. Cannibalism is consistently tied to romance throughout TBHK, most notably with Hakubo and Sumire but other romantic pairings have cannibalistic moments or official arts. During the zombie mokke chapter, Nene panicked when Akane tries to eat her because she assumed it would put her in a love triangle with Aoi. So yeah, cannibalism in TBHK is directly tied to romance and we see that with Mitsukou both in canon and in this au. Speaking of which, I’m not even gonna get into the symbolism of Kou holding a heart out to Mitsuba. Connect the dots for yourselves

Now that we’ve got Mitsukou out of the way, let’s talk about Mitsuba’s disinterest in women

Remember how I said one of the ways queercoding is done is by having a character hint at disinterest in the opposite sex? Yeah, very rarely are we going to see a queercoded male character outright say “I have no attraction to women.” Instead they say they just never saw the appeal in dating, or that they never had time to settle down. In more obvious cases, we have scenes like Reiner from AOT joking that Ymir isn’t all that into guys

I couldn’t find the second scene but there are TWO extras where the subject of Mitsuba’s disinterest in women comes up. C’mon guys I’m trying not to be mean here but you have to be blind, oblivious, or in denial to not pick up on that. Whyyyyy would they mention Mitsuba not having a crush on any girls twice if it weren’t to suggest something about his preference?? Coupled with his appearance (which I’ll get to later) and relationship with Kou, these scenes carry a lot of weight. Even if those other aspects weren’t included, scenes like this would still indicate he has no interest in women (which would make him gay or aroace, though due to his relationship with Kou the aroace thing is kind of ruled out)

Compare this to a scene where Mitsuba thinks he’s being asked out by a man. He doesn’t say “hmmm nope no guys, I’m cuter than all of them~” he specifically says “I’m not interested in guys with lame earrings.” The way this is worded implies that Mitsuba is discussing a type, though it’s v much a comedic scene and we know from everything else that he absolutely does like guys with lame earrings, it’s still worded in a way that makes him appear queer. If he were straight, they would have had him say he’s not interested in guys at all (like Dazai from Bungou Stray Dogs, John Watson from BBC Sherlock, Finn Hudson from Glee, idk there are a lot of male characters that are explicit straight sorry for the crazy random list). Also note how he teases Kou about it, he knows that Kou is fond of him and doesn’t hesitate to use that against him (like when he was comforting him during the Nightlife arc)

They don’t go overboard with Mitsuba’s disinterest in women because, well, that’s not really necessary. Two scenes is already a lot, and he doesn’t have any romantic relationships with women in canon (even as a crush/a joke scene). It’s rare for TBHK characters to have absolutely no scenes expressing interest in the opposite sex, since the series is partially a romance. But Mitsuba consistently only ever shows interest in one man, and when girls are brought up he’s quick to brush it off. His mom did think Nene was his girlfriend when they met, but this was depicted as a very awkward and comedic scene. Because the premise of Mitsuba having a girlfriend is objectively hilarious

(Due to Sousuke’s young age it’s reasonable to assume he wasn’t out to his mom yet, he’s around the age where most kids are closeted. It’s even possible that Sousuke hadn’t come to terms with his sexuality yet, though it’s still a prevalent part of both his character and No.3’s)

Now let’s move onto appearances. I want to give a quick disclaimer, not all gay men are feminine and not all feminine men are gay. Androgyny is also very common in anime and doesn’t automatically mean a character is gay, but there are cases when it’s used for queercoding. Mitsuba is one of these cases

Mitsuba is a very feminine character, this is addressed as soon as he shows up in the manga. He was bullied for his appearance (and personality), but unlike his personality he never tried to change his feminine appearance. He kept his hair long, continues to wear scarves and cardigans and earrings. No.3 wears these things as well, and I would argue has a more feminine personality since he seems to be more open about his emotions and idk. I struggle to categorize feminine and masculine traits because imo that’s subjective but there are things society deems feminine vs. masculine. The problem is that I really dislike the whole “men are strong and women are emotional” thing but ehhhh I guess I have to talk about it for this. Hmph. But yeah although Mitsuba isn’t exactly the biggest sweetheart ever, he does act somewhat feminine compared to the other male characters (as I’ve said he’s p much the only man in the series who attempts to work through emotional conflicts directly)

Once again we circle back to intent, AidaIro know that a male character dressed in pink with pink eyes and long pink hair is going to raise some eyebrows. Even by androgynous anime standards, it’s a bit much. And good for him, although not all gay men are feminine, some are and that’s also fine. I can’t speak on how well he represents feminine gay men because I’m a lesbian but he does dress similar to some of the feminine gay men I’ve known irl (or slightly less feminine in some cases…I knew this one dude in high school who used to wear corsets to class and he was so badass I hope he’s doing well)

I could get into how Kou is a bit feminized too with the whole housework thing but this ain’t abt him. I will say that Kou is still a very masculine character but despite this his character is feminized in some ways compared to the other men. I’m not really here to discuss whether that’s good or bad, I’m just stating the evidence as it is, you can make your own conclusions as to how you feel about it

So how does being queer impact Mitsuba’s character arc?

When I get around to writing my analyses of all the TBHK characters I WILL be talking more in depth about the queer allegories with Mitsuba’s character but for now I’ll give ya’ll a quick summary. Supernatural characters have been used for years to represent queerness, the same could be said for villains and any character trope that represents a feeling of “otherness.” Sometimes it’s more broad like X-Men, where the superpowered characters are used to represent all types of minorities (though I believe X-Men is more closely tied to race, there are rampant queer themes as well). Then there’s books like Interview with the Vampire that get more specific with it, where Louis denying his “true nature” as a vampire is used as an allegory for him denying his queerness. Well I’m here to tell you that Mitsuba and Louis de Pointe du Lac are in the same boat

Mitsuba differs from the other supernaturals because he desperately tries to hold on to feelings of normalcy. He wants to be a normal human and live a normal human life. He doesn’t want to be othered, to be outcasted from society for something he can’t control. We don’t see Hanako, Tsuchigomori, Mei, or any of the other supernatural characters struggle with this. You could argue that Akane does but his situation is more related to learning to empathize with others than any internal battles within himself. Hanako may have moments of wishing him and Nene could have something more, but that’s more about romance than his identity.

This desire to be “normal” is unique to Mitsuba’s character, and it’s a very queer desire. Being an angsty teenager who hasn’t fully accepted themself yet and hasn’t realized that being queer is not only normal, but a beautiful experience. It’s also so interesting to me that as he’s trying so hard to be normal, it creates a push and pull between him and Kou. He wants to be normal for Kou but he also feels that he’s hurting Kou just by existing, that this could only end bad for him. Oh the inherent guilt of having your first gay crush and feeling like you're corrupting them hist for pining from afar

So, can you ship him with women? Technically you can do anything, shipping isn’t illegal and we all have free will. Should you ship him with women is more subjective, I personally think no!! Queerness is not just a sexuality, it’s an identity that deeply impacts who you are as a person. It shapes your experiences and your view of yourself, and in an allegorical way it has certainly done this for Mitsuba. Yes, bi people are queer as well and this is still true for them, but bisexuality is not Mitsuba’s experience. Mono-attraction exists and that specification is very important to gay men and lesbians. For some people sexuality is fluid and that’s beautiful, but it doesn’t work that way for everyone

Some queer fans don’t care if gay characters are shipped with members of the opposite sex, and they’re entitled to their own opinions. It makes me immensely uncomfortable tho, so please block me if you ship Mitsuba with women. That goes for any ships between canon gay/lesbian characters and the opposite sex. I respect people’s right to have opinions but that doesn’t mean I have to like the opinions themselves, and I don’t have to engage with anything that makes me uneasy. That goes for all of you btw, never let people convince you that you have to put up with shit you hate on the internet lmao, this is not real life babes. Block and move on

TL;DR

Mitsuba is too gay to function

[misssakuramochi]

FIELDS OF MISTRIA HEADCANONS

General Smut Headcanons featuring The Bachelors

Minors DNI - Smut below the cut 🍋

(Minors interacting with this post will be blocked. Ty.)

Balor

xxx

○ Generally, Balor is dominant. Whether he's physically on top or not he prefers to feel in control of the situation and usually uses his words to keep it that way. He's a very verbal partner in terms of telling his partner what he wants and what he likes. Naturally he leans more towards softer domming and praise (thought he cant help but tease at least a little bit), but he's certainly not opposed to being rougher if asked nicely.

○ Balor is an extremely generous partner. He tends to keep people at an arms length and struggles to be vulnerable, which results more often than not in him feeling most comfortable sending his partner into fuzzy-headed bliss before they so much as lay hands on him. He also gets off on how hard he can get his partner off, honestly.

○ Balor is very experimental in the bedroom. He's tried his fair share of kinks and toys, and would absolutely introduce any ones he liked that his partner took interest in. Balor finds it incredibly hot when his partner suggests new things to try too. Balor is definitely happiest switching things up every now and again.

○ This man is the most agregious tease. One of Balor's favourite things to do is tease his partner in public (he can take it as well as he dishes it out unfortunately for anyone who tries to retaliate) until they drag him off somewhere, and he gives them what they're begging for until they're so overestimated they tap out. Of course, the aftercare is top notch.

○ Balor's fingers are absolutely divine. He knows how to use the rest of himself just fine, but he's adept with his hands. His almost unnatural ability to find the right way to press all the right spots as quickly as he does is almost uncanny. Balor takes a level of pride in how hard he can get a partner cumming on his fingers.

March

xxx

○ March is sexually inexperienced; as a result, he can be rather awkward about the subject and tends to fluster extremely quickly when it's brought up. The fact that he's insecure about his lack of experience doesn't help that fact either. A new partner has to be emotionally gentle with March for him to open up enough to sleep with them for the first time, but he's much more relaxed once it's happened.

○ While it may be a surprise to new partners because of how long it takes for March to have sex with them the first time, he actually has a very high sex drive. He's not always great at asking for what he wants, but he's almost never one to actually say no if his partner initiates. March might put up a tough front ('I'm too busy with work right now...' ect.) but literally any response (even opting to leave him to work) usually has him crumbling.

○ March is extremely passionate. The way he is 100% invested in his partner and the moment is almost overwhelming in the best possible way. As a result of getting so swept up in the moment March can get a bit rough without meaning to - though he's more mindful of this with a partner who tends to be sensitive. He also likes to be treated a little roughly - a little pain is just a little more pleasure for him.

○ This man 100% has a marking kink. March is absolutely the jealous type, and while he is aware of this enough to handle it like an adult (usually) it does make the idea of leaving physical marks on his partner very appealing to him. Hickies are a favourite of March's - just the idea of other people seeing the marks he left on his partner while he fucked them is enough to get him hard. He's rather fond of leaving red handprints on their ass too, if they'll let him. March likes receiving marks just as much, too - scratch him, bite him... as long as he can keep the souvenir he's a happy man.

○ March prefers positions where he can look his partner in the eye. He likes watching their expressions as they react to every movement he makes. A personal favourite of his is holding his partner against a wall with their legs around his waist; though, he's in no way opposed to missionary or being ridden.

Hayden

xxx

○ Hayden is the picture perfect romantic lover. He's 100% in it for the passion, emotion, and connection. He wants every time to be special and romantic because to him every time his partner allows him to be so close is special. Now, not every time is scented candles and rose petal pathways (sometimes they're daisies) but he does try to make his partner feel as loved as they truly are every time.

○ Hayden lives to give his partner head. While he's more than happy to get them off however they want, he has a borderline oral fixation. He could spend hours between his partners thighs quite happily. Honestly, if he's worked up enough, Hayden is liable to cum just from giving his partner head.

○ Hayden leans towards the more innocent-minded, and as such he doesn't think about sex crazy often on his own. That being said he's extremely easy to work up. Hayden is, physically speaking, extremely sensitive. He's strong and durable from working the farm, sure, but a few light touches to his inner thigh or a casual grind against him has him aching almost instantly. When he initiates its often much more thought out - spontaneity tends to lean to his partner's actions.

○ Hayden loves sex outdoors. Don't get me wrong: he's extremely private and not at all one for exhibitionism. There's just something about how connected he feels making love out in a beautiful natural spot that he can't get enough of, especially under the stars. Picnics at sunset at the edge of his farm often lead to him eating much more than snacks, so to speak.

○ Hayden is, to put it plainly, extremely loud. He has a hard time holding back vocally and, honestly, he doesn't want to. He loves letting his partner know how good they're making him feel - and he likes hearing them in turn. Between his outright moaning he loves to praise his partner for just about anything he can, and sometimes he'll even literally beg for his partner to move their hips just the way he likes, or to do that one thing with their tongue.

Ryis

xxx

○ Ryis is extremely gentle. While he is very passionate, and quite strong, Ryis is also almost overly aware of those facts. As a result he treats his partners gently and loves them softly. He prefers a position that let's him kiss him partner and cup their face, and missionary is definitely a favourite.

○ While gentle, Ryis is also extremely handsy. He loves the feeling of soft skin under his work-worn fingers and its easy to tell whenever he's in the mood, since his hands begin wandering everywhere. If he can get a handful of it he's squeezing - thighs, tummy, tits, and especially ass... whatever his partner has that they're comfortable with him touching. Especially during.

○ Did someone say cockwarming? It was probably Ryis. That is to say, he's a big fan of having his partner just sit on his cock. Whether they're doing something else together trying to pretend not to be distracted, competing to see who moves first, or both, he's very much a fan.

○ Cat-and-mouse style flirting games are a favored part of foreplay for Ryis. Seeing who begs first, who cracks and touches the other... he has an insane amount of self-control, so Ryis usually wins. He's always just as happy when doesn't, though.

○ Ryis is extremely doting. Though he will tease a partner into asking for exactly what they want, he will absolutely deliver. Ultimately his partner ends up being quite spoiled - Ryis might talk big but he can't bring himself to say no to any way they want to be pleasured for the most part. He has a lot of stamina too, so he's able to keep up with even more insatiable partners well happily.

Eiland

xxx

○ Eiland is extremely spontaneous as a partner. He's often so busy thinking about his work, archeological studies, and other similar things that other thoughts tend to come on almost of their own accord, sometimes at seemingly random times. A kiss in excitement after an exciting historical discovery turns into wandering hands, an innocent afternoon stroll has him and his partner hurrying home in a fit of giggles and flirty touches... that kind of thing.

○ Treating Eiland a little roughly turns him into putty. Light degradation, biting... if you pull his hair he's a gonner. That being said, he's rather obedient and aims to please so he can be a little sensitive, and definitely needs some aftercare if his partner is rough with him to reassure him he did a good job and you enjoyed it as much as he did.

○ Eiland loves being ridden. He's very visual, and the more he can see the more satisfied he'll be. Something about watching all of his partner while they bounce on top of him, being able to see them press his cock into them, sends him directly to space.

○ Eilands favourite place to be ridden is his office. Being given a (probably much needed) break from his studies in the form of sex on his desk is always welcome - and a thought he gets off to himself quite frequently. He's careful to keep any fragile or rare artifacts away from his main desk, just in case it's needed for other things.

○ Considering the above it's probably no surprise that Eiland gets off on a little risk. Sex in semi-public places in hidden away alcoves where they have to be quiet lest anyone pass too close and hear them really gets Eiland off - something about the impropriety of it. Once he's established with a partner he might just leave the door unlocked in hopes that they'll walk in when he's touching himself to the thought.

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A/N: This is my first time writing up headcanons in a long time, and it's been even longer since I've written smut. Hopefully you still enjoy❣️

If anyone would be interested in a Bachelorette version of this feel free to let me know.

Thanks for reading! 😊

[jacevelaryonswife]

The way that you move

It wasn’t appropriate for a lady of respect to desire the lusts of the flesh, but the fire in your bowels kept your mind trapped in a single and delicious setting

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x wife!reader

warnings: porn with 10% of plot. p in v sex. english is not my first language. 1,1k.

Even if it’s recent, your marriage to Prince Jacaerys was very promising and pleasant due to the commitment employed by both parts. Your husband was very polite, good-natured and kind, and you strove to be the proper and loving lady wife that Rhaenyra Targaryen's heir needed. In addition, the engagement period was charming and prepared the ground for a young and happy union, much better than most of the weddings of the other court ladies in all aspects. Or almost all because unfortunately not everything was flowers. The subject in question referred to the misfortune moment of bed that tormented you and your husband.

Neither of you had experience, which made it a little traumatic for both of you, especially painful for you but quite fast too, proving to be a great relief (not crookedly for Jace). Throughout the act the prince remained redder than a ripe tomato and hated several aspects that were part of that situation, the first was not being able to reverse the pain you felt, because he didn’t know the female body to bring some relief to his good wife and because it ended up faster than dornish wine in celebrations. The precocity wasn’t at all bad for the situation, but it wasn’t exactly the virtue that a man should be proud of — but it served to your beautiful face was no longer dented with discomfort.

He apologized vehemently after that and assured that he didn't want to hurt you and that you didn't need to do it again without wanting to, a really sweet gesture that had you waving to him and ensuring that everything was fine. “My mother said the first contacts are painful for the chaste ladies,” you said. And in fact it was terribly uncomfortable, until last night...

Gods, what was that? It was the best physical feeling you felt in your life and it seemed so profane to admit it while letting pleasurable sounds escape your throat. It was so good! And that was the problem!

How should you approach your husband about repeating that night? It wasn’t appropriate for a lady of respect to desire the lusts of the flesh, but the fire in your bowels kept your mind trapped in a single and delicious setting, so your only mission that day was to find a demure way to ask your sweet Jace to make you come as your friends had instructed. What a scandal! There was no way to say this out loud, not even other ways to approach the topic seemed decent! Everything seemed like a complete disaster until the moon emerged and the inhabitants of Dragonstone gathered in your chambers, just like your husband and you.

The thick sheet that wrapped your body was responsible for hiding most of the bold and light blue lacy dress you wore, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the watchful eye of Prince Jacaerys, especially when he joined you in bed. That was the ideal moment to execute your plan in the urgency of the last minutes, which consisted solely of action.

"Jace, husband, can I kiss you?" You tried to contain the anxiety of what you wanted to happen next by leaning over it gently.

“Of course you can, my love,” he smiled sweetly and his beautiful brown eyes shone with tenderness. He was so adorable.

After many attempts (some slow and others sloppy) you understood a part of the mechanics of kisses and began to appreciate and perform the art often. His full and terribly soft lips were pressed so pleasantly against yours in the initially chaste kiss, who became sensual and lustful thanks to your desire. Oh, you couldn't wait any longer.

Climbing on his hips, you interrupted the kiss to face those beautiful brown eyes. "I want to do what we did last night."

“D-do you, my lady?” He asked surprised, "do you really want to?"

“Yes, husband,” you purred and kissed him deliciously again, playing with his tongue as you moved your intimacy dressed over his groin, making you both sigh. “I want it now,” you said during the kiss, sitting in the center of his body to remove the dress and expose your naked body.

The poor prince followed the whole situation astonished, stunned by his newly existing disinhibition but not a little dissatisfied (just worried). "M-my lady, shouldn't we wait until you're ready?"

“I'm already, my prince, I've been ready since the first rays of sunshine,” you knew what he was referring to and learned from the other ladies that the moisture between the thighs was a positive indication. And you've been uncomfortable wet since you woke up. "Do you want that?"

“I do,” he nodded hypnotized, holding his soft hips to squeeze the flesh gently.

It was not secret that the prince has never been with a woman before and the fact never bothered him, but he would like to have experience to properly satisfy his wife in pleasure meetings. He quickly flipped through a book on the subject as his cheeks warmed up and his limb hardened shamefully. After that he tried to remember some information to use at the moment, such as knowing that women needed time and a certain humidity so that they could feel pleasure, however, almost all reasoning was lost when your hands released his masculinity and involved him. He grunted low in response, breathing hard to prepare for the- Seven heavens!

You sank deliciously into the thick and soft shaft, ecstatic by the indiscriminate sensation of being filled. There was no way for something so good to be considered depravity, no, it was totally adequate, it was so right to jump freely on the cock of your charming Jacaerys and enjoy what he had to offer. The prince was so confused, drunk and excited by the way everything happened that he was dazzled by the beast that mounted him ardently. If in the previous times he made an effort not to end quickly, this time he was begging the seven heavens for the moment to last.

“Take off your tunic, my love, I want to see you,” you said between sighs, moving up and down constantly, moaning shamelessly.

He did what was asked, sitting in bed with you on your lap just to kiss you fervently and pull you down with him, moving your hips with yours. The gesture was much appreciated when his legs got tired of doing all the hard work, limiting himself to rubbing against his groin while he repeated the action, the constant and strong friction.

“Wait! Wait! I need some time... I-I want this to last,” he said between heavy breaths, almost begging.

"Right, right."

— "It's hard to describe, it's intense, hot and your whole body shudders at the sensation. It's probably the best thing you'll feel in your life."

Your friend Belinda's explanation of the apex of female pleasure returned to surrounding your mind again, making you yearn to discover such a sensation. It was torturous to accommodate your husband inside and not be able not to move your hips, even though it was for good reason. And he, well, he was almost exploding with pleasure.

Jace pulled you for an excited and demanding kiss, very different from the ones you used to share but just as good. Good? No, better. His tongue touched yours in a different and sloppy way, which would strumble you

The prince wasn’t blind about women but never dared to give himself to a pleasure before the wedding — he was less man for that. He thought he wouldn’t be so affected by carnal pleasure, but he could not deny that the attraction he felt for his beautiful wife increased every day and each time you lay down together. He longed for it more quietly.

“Keep going, my love,” he held your buttocks when you remained in the same position, moving your hips experimentally to keep up with your pace.

“Yes, husband,” you sighed numb, kissing him again as you moved sloppyly, dragging your hips against his groin. Gods, how good it was.

Although he was loving the position he was in, Jace felt a sudden urge to cage your body against the bed, so he turned you lovingly to take control and pushed your hips against his at a constant pace that stole the air from both of you. The thought that happened in your head was indecent, but it was the complete reality of the situation. It wasn't love made between you and your husband, no, you were fucking with all the lust there was.

He rested his face on your neck as he hit you deeply, the delicious and maddening friction building a euphoria in your unknown stomach and making your walls squeeze madly. “Jace!” You moaned loudly, scratching his back as you held him more between your legs. “Oh! Jace!” Your sight turned white and your whole body spasmed on bed, the most wonderful feeling in the world numbing your senses.

That was too much for him. Both the grip around his cock, as well as your sounds, as well as the call by his name and his own limit sent him to the apex in the blink of an eye, grunting in your ear in such a sensual and deep way that it made you squeeze even more. For the seven, what had just happened?

Such pleasure from such indecency made him hot, confused and red like wine. Your breaths were heavy and agitated, stabilizing slowly and silently on the soft bed as you sighed satisfied with what had just happened. "So that's how it feel? Now I understand why some people indulge in promiscuity," you commented in a good mood, feeling your body return to normal. "We will do this more often, yes, husband?"

Who was he to deny your request? (Especially on the content of the request).

"Of course, my lady." Yes, your husband was perfect.

═════════════════════

taglist

general: @valeskafics @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

jace velaryon: @howyouloveyourdragon

[horrorsboyfrie]

Loser!Zandik being crushed on by Popular!Reader

(masc terms on reader+ it's the typical corny social butterfly × weirdo shit, queer edition, honestly + Zandik displays traits of autism + a little murderous♡)

Zandik, as per usual, was spending the night's time in the library. It was quiet, for the most part. While a lot of his fellow peers were focused on finding answers for their own satisfaction, even those who viewed their values and research to be above everyone else's had someone to keep them company; for that reason, they often chose to borrow the necessary books and study in their respective dorms, or the dorms of their friends. Some did indeed prefer the setup of the library's sections and desks, but even so, the peaceful atmosphere was not interrupted by them.

Zandik sat on a table at the very ends of the room. He had a pile of books to his right; some half opened, and others neatly stack on top of each other. He had his notebook and pens nearby, taking notes of anything he deemed crucial knowledge for his personal projects.

Not long had he been entangled in his theories when a specific group of students decided to make an appearance. They could be heard from miles away— and it just so happened that they chose to sit on a table to his right. Malicious intent, no doubt. These people tended to act as if Zandik was some foreign species to be studied; as if he was a sort of a subject that needed constant supervision.

Of any day to endure the constant speculations and disgusted or concerned expressions towards him, today was not the right one. Nothing too horrific had happened to him, not something that would matter to an average person, at least. It's just that he slept wrong, causing him to wake up with slight neck pain, which played a role in worsening his already short temper, which in turn made his sensory issues towards his clothes, especially his socks, far more insufferable than they had to be. He was one unexpected move away from having a meltdown.

Yet again, he managed to ignore the obnoxiously loud 《whispers》 that sprouted out of those filthy rat-filled mouths of theirs, as Zandik's already-overwhelmed mind decided to call them.

Unfortunately for him, the multiple different voices started chanting even more nonsense as you walked towards the table— he could see that you were dreading it. Was everyone so damn bothered by his existence? You were known to be such a sweetheart— contrast to majority of boys there— by those who've interacted with you, but to be fair, none had a reputation quite like Zandik's, so it's no wonder you resented him, as everyone else did.

"Why'd we have to sit here?" he heard you emphasize. He looked your way; he could see the grins on the faces of your friends, the way they seemed to be picking on someone, hushed whispers, mentioning his name time after time, as if he wasn't barely three chairs away. Gods, his patience was running thin.

"Can we just switch seats?" He listened as you practically begged your friend, who was sitting on the complete opposite end of the table. As much as he may have claimed (to himself, seeing as he had none to actually confide in) not be a man driven by emotion, his worse sensory days were tempt to be a catastrophe in every way possible. He left soon after he heard those mumbles; he was too sensitive for his own good, even if he dismissed that fragile soul of his with walls of anger and apathy.

Your friends seemed to notice before you, the fact that he was no longer in the room. All you got was endless teasing about how you've missed your chance or about the fact that you probably 《intimidated》 him. Bullshit, no? You sighed as the group split up again, each going ahead to do their own thing. The only true reason they decided to meet up here was to force you into talking to him. That did not quite work out, it seems.

You hurried to leave as well, when you noticed a small pen on the ground. That must be his; you always see him writing with that specific shade of blue. It's not like nobody else in the whole Akademiya owned the same one, but he was sitting on the table you found it under. You decided to hold on to it. Perhaps it would be an opportunity to finally have a conversation with the guy!

On your way back to the dorms, you noticed him nearing his own room. Maybe now's the time to return him his belongings— especially considering how he seemed to be searching his pockets. His face was indifferent when he realized he didn't have the pen on him, but his hands were trermbling; a hint of anxiety perhaps? One could only speculate. You decided to leave him on his own. He probably wasn't up for company or conversation anyway.

The following few days weren't quite like you expected. Usually, you'd manage to get at least a glance your way by him; laughing at stupid jokes, bumping into people or objects that you could have easily avoided, accidentally saying things a bit too loud. Nothing worked this time. It's as if he purposefully was avoiding you; a fact that got confirmed after you tried walking towards him. He saw you—he made sure you saw his look, he held it for a couple of seconds— and then he walked away. Fuck, there's no way this guy wants anything to do with you.

Weeks later, you had grown to forget ever owning that pen of his; actually, you started using it for yourself. If you can't give it back, then why not use it for yourself?

Zandik, despite trying his hardest to keep his stares away from you and your friends (and pretty much everyone else in that damned building), couldn't help but notice that his long-gone favorite pen is under your possession.

After the very last class of the day, he decided to give you a visit; your fate had been decided by him already. He's done what he's done in the Eleazar hospital and got away with it. It wouldn't be hard to add another body into the endless pile of disappearances; he knew how to keep suspicion off his shoulders.

Perhaps it was a bit too far. He was letting his rage get the better of him; but gods, he really hadn't felt at ease writing with anything else. "His death would make no logical sense to my goals," he sighed as he reminded himself. "What sort of researcher puts his emotions above his values?" He groaned— frustrated both at himself for considering such a solution to his problems, and at the situation itself.

Times like these, he'd go to his special place to sit and think; it was a big tree, near a lake. Children would often talk about their encounters with the Aranara there. At first, he only ever visited that place so he could find one creature and take it for himself, but he grew quite comfortable being there.

He grabbed the opportunity by its hand once he spotted you all alone; sitting with your back against that very same tree that he favored. As if you had a seventh sense, you turned around to see him. He wasn't quite prepared to be greeted with a smile. It caught him off guard; why were you, of all people, showing any form of sympathy for him?

"I was hoping you'd be here" you said, handing him the pen that he has been desperately trying to get a hold of again.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - stalking, unhealthy relationships, mentions of masturbation, obsessive behavior, and medical malpractice galore.

Harper is the kind of man who can't help but study what he loves.

It's a bad habit - an unfortunate combination of natural curiosity and burning academic passion that always seems to end with a mess and a few broken toys. A childhood fascination with insects might lead to shoeboxes full of tattered wings and twitching bodies. A passing interest in hemogobular coagulation would be poured into a university internship that gave him access to more pints of blood than he knew what to do with, despite his best attempts to put it all to good use. A lasting fondness for hypnosis could, theoretically, earn him a small collection of pocket watches, a soothing timbre that often played underneath his passive speaking voice, and a few asylum patients too far gone to ever truly recover.

His research wasn't always destructive, but it could be. His love tended to veer towards obsession; the kind of burning infatuations that could leave more than a little devastation in its wake, if he wasn't careful. A measured amount of collateral damage was acceptable, compared to the alternative.

He studies you, too. Idly, at first - nothing more than an intrusive thought allowed to fester during your all-too-infrequent appointments, a quick jolt of excitement when he noticed your name on his schedule - then more consciously, in the form of an extra question asked at the very end of his time with you, a note tacked onto your file that doesn't strictly have to do with your health. His chances for observation are limited. You rarely make it to your therapy sessions, no matter how often he insists you should see him, and you're sturdier than he'd like, too used to being thrown around and mistreated to come running to him every time you scrape your knees. That's something he decides he doesn't like about you fairly early on. Part of a case study is deciding which parts of your subject will need to be adapted, and even you aren't beyond correction.

He records your reactions to his mis-prescribed medication with a religious sort of zealousness, reviews your symptoms and lab results while fucking his fist in-time with your pulse. He makes sure to visit your bedside personally whenever you find your way into his emergency room, and you're rewarded for your newfound attentiveness with a healthy supply of shots that leave you too removed from reality to remember your time on his examination table. Harper's always preferred the written word, but he find himself with a budding appreciation for film during his nightly evaluation of your records. His memory is keen enough, but there's nothing quite like being able to study your body detail by detail whenever he isn't fortunate enough to have access to the real thing.

He thinks, as he watches a pair of his nurses drag you through the asylum doors, that it might be time to start the next leg of his study. Studying is useful, but you've always benefited from more proactive measures, more personal attention. It'd be a discredit to his occupation if he was too preoccupied with his own little pleasures to see to the needs of his favorite patient.

It's far past time he moved on to more hands-on research methods, when it comes to you.

[cityofmeliora]

another absolutely insane Primo interview

in my first post about Primo's characterization, i noted that he has a dark sense of humor and possibly cruel inclinations. i recently found scans of a April 2012 Metal Hammer interview that features Primo and a Nameless Ghoul (big thanks to @ Primoismelting on twitter!!) i can now say with absolute certainly that he delights in evil and cruelty and being a villain.

this interview is like. really long. so i'm not posting a whole transcript. but here some highlights from this interview:

Primo says he would maim a panda bear for less than $500.

THERE ARE VARIOUS MEANS OF ASSESSING WHETHER SOMEONE IS EVIL OR NOT You don't need to wait until a person plunges a rusty pair of gardening shears through your eye to stop and think: "Yes, my reading of the situation is that he's a bit on the evil side." Criminal psychologists and those working in secure psychiatric facilities use questionnaires called psychopathy tests in order to judge whether someone is a grade A violent nutcase or not... whether they're mad or simply bad. Today's two subjects from the occult rock band Ghost – a sinister figure shrouded in robes who answers only to the title of A Nameless Ghoul and a desiccated cadaverous fiend wearing the pope's robes and mitre, called Papa Emeritus – have agreed to sit ARE YOU EVIL? 101. We tell them, "No one will ever find out. Tell me how much money it would take to persuade you to hit a panda really hard in the face with a brick." Despite his voice being disguised by electronic effects to help preserve his identity, the disgust in the Nameless Ghoul's answer is audible: "It would take a lot of money. An insurmountable amount of money." But you would not kill the panda – probably just fuck its nose up a bit. And I have a Large amount of money to offer you. But the Ghoul will not budge and is clearly appalled: "I will pass thank you. I have no desire to hit a panda in the face with a brick." Papa Emeritus pauses for what feels like an eternity before croaking: "One. Million. Lire.” A willingness to harm animals is often judged to be an indicator of psychotic behaviour. Most people would never agree to hit the unfortunate bamboo-eating, sex-phobic, monochromatic bear on the hooter. Papa is not only happy to do it but he also knows a Gene Simmons-sized business opportunity when he sees one, yet the Ghoul on the other hand has revealed he has a more moral outlook. This is very confusing. Another test is needed. Metal Hammer (April 2012)

the Italian Lira is a now-obsolete currency that was phased out and replaced by the Euro from 1999-2002. in 2001, its last year of usage, it had an average conversion rate of roughly ~2180 Lire = 1 USD. 1 million Lire would be about $460 USD. Primo dgaf about endangered animals LMAO.

Primo reacts with sinister glee at the idea of invading and conquering Poland. (understandably, this is the interview where a Nameless Ghoul compares him to H*tler.)

We put the following to them, "OK, consider this. You are passing by Poland. Do you stop and think A) What a fantastic opportunity, I must visit this famous land and soak up its rich culture and history and make new friends in the process, or B) I must annex this God-forsaken strip of dirt and grind its populace under the heel of my jackboot in order to create Lebensraum for my Reich which will reign in glory for a millennium?" The Nameless Ghoul stammers: "I have yet to step foot in Poland so it's a foreign country to me." Stop avoiding the question. Would you sooner visit Poland for a holiday or invade it? He sighs and says: "In my line of work we are pretty much into invading countries. Being a rock musician with the aim of putting on a very good show all around the world, it would be very handicapping to not explore the cultural aspects of countries you visit. But when you are in a band such as Ghost that's on the rise and you go to a country like Poland, you go there with the aim of conquering the country. You go to their country to enrich them with your culture of blasphemy.” Papa Emeritus does not add anything but he is grinning as much as his rigor mortis will allow and rubbing his hands together. It looks like in his mind he is already packing his bags and choosing a particularly severe tank commander's outfit for the trip. Again there is a big divide between the mysterious monk and his partially decayed singer. The conclusion of the test is far from clear. Could it be – as strange as it may seem – that they are nothing more threatening than ordinary travelling minstrels who simply wish to excite young people with an invigorating and theatrical "rock show"? Or are they indeed, as they claim, emissaries sent from Hades to recruit foot soldiers for the most evil of battles to come? More tests are needed. Metal Hammer (April 2012)

Primo has no problem with being compared to H*tler, but he DOES NOT want you to forget that his dick is HUGE.

The Nameless Ghoul says this is partially the point: "A lot of people presume we're parodying the church by inverting it but this isn't the case. We do the exact same thing as the church but we add a little topping to make a point. I think the real Pope is a very frightening character and that's the reason why he is an impenetrable, invincible and uncontrollable figure. It is the same with Papa Emeritus. You can't defeat Papa Emeritus because he's sacred. Most people find authoritative figures like the Pope enthralling. So he represents everything that is sacred, powerful and authoritative. It is very humorous as well, because not only is he our own Eddie, he's also Freddie Mercury, Adolf Hitler, Dracula, Marlon Brando and the Pope rolled into one.” Anger rouses Papa Emeritus from his near slumber: "Don't forget John Holmes!" The Nameless Ghoul sighs and corrects himself, throwing the 13 -inch-cocked porn star into the mix: "He is like Freddie Mercury, Adolf Hitler, Dracula, Marlon Brando, The Pope and John Holmes rolled into one.” Metal Hammer (April 2012)

Primo fucks, but he DOES NOT do foreplay.

"Thank you," says Papa E. It has to be said, while the singer no doubt cuts quite a figure in his robes and he undeniably has great bone structure, some of which is exposed to the elements, it's perhaps a shame that he doesn't have a better grooming routine as this might afford him and Ghost more young female fans. The Ghoul laughs raucously beneath his hood: "You'd be surprised at how many women flirt scandalously with him from the audience. The Ghouls get repelled when we see this happening actually. It is true that he has good bone structure but I think it is not so much his looks as the idea of him being whoever they want…” So basically you're saying that there are a lot of women out there who are having impure thoughts about a cadaverous cross between Hitler and Freddie Mercury in a dress? He lets out another chuckle: "Yes... yes, I am." Papa cuts in with a lascivious leer: "Whatever makes you think that I do not engulf myself in the carnal aftermath of our masses? I do, however, refrain from so-called 'foreplay'."

in the original lore, Papa Emeritus I was a zombie pope. he was supposed to be an actual literal corpse.

the interview makes several references to Primo being a zombie. he's described as 'cadaverous', having rigor mortis and exposed bones. the joke was that the title "Papa Emeritus" is the title of former popes, but a former pope would by definition be a dead pope, so the idea was that Ghost's Papa Emeritus I was a dead pope. this was before Pope Benedict resigned in 2013 and became the first living Pope Emeritus, ruining the joke, LOL.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。RIGOR — AL-HAITHAM.

contents. mild injuries (al-haitham), established relationship, fluff, really bad banter, al-haitham is left handed because i say so

notes. literally just 2k embarrassing words of you taking care of al-haitham after he’s injured from a trip to the desert. yeah.

“that stings,” al-haitham hisses, glaring at you—which earns him an equally as harsh glare back. “why don’t you just pour the entire bottle of antiseptic down my arm at this rate?

“don’t yell at me,” you hiss back, scowling as you dab at the (already clean) wound some more, “i’m not the one who came back with this. why didn’t you get it checked?”

to your utter dismay, al-haitham comes home from a visit to the desert injured. gravely.

well, truth be told, it’s not really grave. that’s just how you see it because anything beyond a scratch is enough to throw you into a fit of panic. he’s not really used to coming home to someone fretting over him like this—standing between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, dabbing ever so gently at the small (and hardly deep, he’d like to point out) cut on his arm.

running into eremites is an inevitable part of most visits to desert ruins. usually, al-haitham manages to come back unscathed, but sometimes, things don’t always go accordingly. in his defense, he’d thought he’d be able to dodge the blade of the eremite he happened to be fighting. al-haitham has the precision and athletic ability to not only manage, but excel at dodging things that are thrown at him. but still, even he has his moments of miscalculation, and just by a hair, he feels the sting of a blade’s edge tearing through the surface of his skin.

it’s unfortunate, but it’s not a big deal—at least, that’s what he thought. apparently, but not unusually, you have a tendency to disagree with him on most things.

“i was going to check it myself,” he says simply, “it would’ve been fine.”

“oh, i didn’t realize you graduated in linguistics and biology,” you raise a brow.

al-haitham is a well rounded man—he reads books from just about any subject so long as it’s informative and offers him new knowledge that can assist him in being well versed in any topic. more importantly, al-haitham rarely loses arguments, and in order to be able to always win said arguments, his understanding of most subjects is required to be thorough.

he knows how to treat a small wound or two, especially with as often as he lands himself in small fights as he explores ruins.

he looks up at you with an unimpressed stare as he mumbles, “i’ve taken at least a few classes from every darshan.”

“i hate you,” you huff. he exhales tiredly.

“it’s only a cut,” he argues, “there’s no need to be so worried—”

“i’m always worried,” you sigh, staring dejectedly at the injury littering his arm. no one should ever leave a mark over his skin—unless it’s you, and that’s only in a very different context. “does it hurt?” you ask quietly.

a small part of him feels guilty that he’s worried you over his well being, that he’s come home harmed even the slightest bit and disrupted your peace. but the larger and more rational part of him reasons that injuries of this nature are common and inevitable in trips to the desert like this, and he’s skilled enough to ensure that nothing serious ever happens.

still, for your sake, he mumbles, “no.”

it’s a bit of a white lie—it does sting a bit, and the antiseptic you pressed just a few moments ago didn’t exactly help, but admitting to you that he’s in any sort of pain is only opening up more avenues to making this into a larger deal than it really is.

al-haitham is fine, and he’s doesn’t need anything for the slightly inconvenient but not serious laceration on his skin. he’s sure of that.

but then, you cup his cheeks and press a small kiss to his forehead as you murmur, “my poor baby,” with a small pout, “i’ll feed you dinner, okay? they got your left arm.”

he wants to tell you that his motor skills are good enough that he can function with his non dominant hand—being left handed in a world catered for right handed individuals forces you to acquire functionality in both hands. but before he can open his mouth, you kiss down his cheeks, tracing your lips along him until they map out his jaw.

it distracts him for a moment, making hie eyes close and his breath hitch as he lets your warmth settle into the deepest crevices of his skin.

“don’t worry, haitham, i’ll take care of you until this heals,” you murmur sweetly.

and just like that, al-haitham is a bit conflicted now. in his two plus decades of life, he has always been an independent and capable individual—more than most his age. he doesn’t need the assistance of anyone, nor has he ever really needed the assistance of anyone. but you’re making it very hard to resist with the way you’re doting on him with affection.

“i’m fine,” he tries to argue, “really—”

“i should run you a bath,” you mumble, cutting him off. he gets the strong feeling you’re taking more to yourself than him. “and i’ll wash your hair for you too.”

even with the self control someone like him has, even he can’t help but sigh in content when your fingers slip into his hair, stroking through the strands and scratching gently at his scalp. it’s a bit nice—he has to admit that being taken care of, even as minimally as fingers in his hair, is nice.

“you don’t have to do all that,” he mutters.

“i don’t want you moving that arm,” you huff, “would it kill you to stop acting high and mighty for once? most people would take advantage of being spoiled.”

“i don’t enjoy taking advantage of others like most people,” he shrugs.

“you know what i mean,” you glower, rolling your eyes.

it’s a common understanding to most that al-haitham is a bit difficult—you don’t think you ever remember a time where he hasn’t been. he’s stubborn and always believes his views to be correct, and he’s not ashamed of arguing his point no matter who it is. you’re surprised that mouth of his hasn’t landed him in trouble yet—although, you suppose he’s not exactly in the good graces of most at the akademiya.

and as the akademiya’s acting grand sage, you admire his unwillingness to back down. but, as your boyfriend and the man you love, you wish he’d just compromise sometimes—and maybe let you wash his hair and hand feed him dinner for a bit as you nurse his injury back to health.

just this once….and maybe just a few more times later on too. you don’t ask for much, you like to think.

“i’ve gotten injuries like this before,” he reasons, “i’ve survived.”

you look at him with that delicate look of yours, the one that makes him feel like maybe he’s been living his life wrong this whole time. that it only became correct once his life involved you.

he thinks that’s might just be the case when you grin slightly, pinching his nose as you lean down, pecking his forehead and mumbling, “you don’t always have to just survive. you can indulge a bit, you know.”

“is that so?” he raises a brow, his good arm snaking around your hips.

“yes,” you hum, “if you give it a try, you might just enjoy indulging here and there,” you grin, stroking a thumb over his cheek as you admire his features, relearning every curve and every angle of his face. you don’t think you’d ever get bored like this—just standing in your bathroom, staring at him. you think you could comfortably stay right here like this forever.

maybe longer.

“i see,” he says slowly. al-haitham has always had a strong sense of control. but that was before you—he’s now forced to admit that his resolve is a bit weaker, just a bit shakier after you’ve come along. “does this begin with washing my hair?”

“and feeding you dinner,” you nod, tracing your thumb over his brow, letting it wander along the hook of his nose. “do you want me to kiss your arm better too?”

“is that really going to help?” he asks in amusement, making you giggle.

“oh yes,” you tease, “it was in a class i took from amurta. you probably didn’t take it—it’s far too rigorous for you.”

“oh,” he nods playfully, “of course. you’ll have to excuse my lack of understanding. not everyone can be as advanced as you.”

“here,” you grin—and it’s wide, and it’s warm, and it’s far too bright to ever be dimmed by the light of your bathroom as you stare at him, “i can demonstrate if you want. hands-on learning is always the best.”

“i must ask—have you ever learned hands-on like this with anyone else?” he raises a brow.

“and if i have? would that make you jealous?”

“perhaps a little,” he admits, fighting desperately to keep his own smile hidden. it’s hard not to smile when you’re around—how could he not when you swallow the sun with your lips every time they curve upwards in that honeyed way that they do?

“don’t worry,” you giggle again—and god, he thinks, he really loves that sound. he watches you lean down and kiss softly along the edges of his wound, tracing the cut slowly as you say, “you’re my only academic partner now.”

“i’m most grateful.”

“well?” you peck his shoulder, “a kiss helps, doesn’t it?”

“it does,” he chuckles quietly, “maybe you can show me a bit more.”

he’s given into you completely by now—you can tell by the way his body is relaxed on the edge of the bathtub. you can tell by that easy grin plastered on his usually blank face. you can tell by the way he leans into your touch every chance he gets. you can tell by the way he asks you to kiss his wound some more—the same wound he didn’t think you needed to care about.

but you always care, and he’s starting to understand you always will. so he stares at you hopefully, expecting just a few more presses of your lips.

so you do, kissing along his arm, peppering scattered pecks along his shoulder, pressing your lips gently along the column of his neck as he sighs softly and closes his eyes.

maybe being taken care of isn’t so bad—maybe he’s been missing out all this time….but then again, he thinks it’s just that he’s always been missing you. like he was born to find you. like he was made to be yours and you were made to be his and you both were made for each other if nothing else.

if nothing else, al-haitham is glad to be yours.

“does it still hurt?” you ask after some time.

“just a little,” he lets himself admit, “it’s nothing i’ve never dealt with before.”

“you really worried me you know,” you breathe quietly, making him squeeze your hips in reassurance, “don’t hide next time you’re hurt.”

“and will you kiss me back to health if i tell you?” he hums, leaning his head back to let you kiss his jaw easier.

you smile against his skin, letting your touch linger for a moment before you mumble, “of course, it’s only the best treatment. only those who take rigorous classes would know that.”

“good thing i have you to teach me.”

“yes, you’re really quite lucky,” you say with a cheeky smile.

there’s a warm bath waiting for him after this. and a hand fed meal. and perhaps a few more gentle kisses. but most certainly a lifetime of you—that much he knows.

i feel like i’m borderline violating myself by posting this bc it’s so self indulgent but here u go

[akutasoda]

hi! jing yuan,aventurine,blade, dan heng and sunday with a teen!reader like collei? (not for the event)

they were used as an experiment from a very young age, thankfully [insert character]rescued them, they also took them in but they were still traumatized from their time as an experiment,they are chronically ill which makes them weak and are scared of being touched due to their time as an experiment subject

experimental beginnings

synopsis - they save you from a past of experimentation and try to help you get back on track includes - dan heng, blade, jing yuan, aventurine warnings - gn!teen!reader, fluff, angst w/ comfort, mentions.of experimentation, wc - 1.7k

dan heng ★↷

↪the astral express always stopped at other planets to help them. meeting plenty of people and experiencing vast cultures. dan heng normally went with the group when they landed on new planets or re-visiting old ones - often being one to help those that need so.

↪but he hadn't expected to help you. normally the express crew would help those after seeing the situation through and deciding what was best - although this time, everyone could agree that you needed rescuing.

↪the unanimous decision led to the express crew very quickly rescuing you and getting you to board the express - they knew that they needed to get you as far away from that planet as possible and as quickly as they could.

↪the astral express crew understood why you were so closed off and scared, they didn't blame you but they did wish they could help you even a little. they would have to quickly learn to just try and help you break out of that shell little by little.

↪dan heng didn't quite understand at first why you began spending most your time with him. you barely spent time with anyone and they couldn't blame you at all, but it was a surprise that he was the first one you began seeing a miniscule amount of trust in - but he didn't see it that way.

↪he understood that trailblazer and march could be quite overwhelming or confusing at times, that welt and himeko could be rather intimidating. so he began to reason that his usual calm and reserved demeanor might seem like the best option to you.

↪he didn't mind you hovering around him. he could tell that you weren't much better off than the first day you boarded the express, but atleast this could be seen as a little bit of progress.

↪due to your unfortunate illness, you were extremely weak and so he'd have to keep on you to make sure that your condition dis not worsen - they all kept an eye out but since he saw more of you, it only made sense. they couldn't cure you but they didn't want you experiencing more pain.

↪dan heng would be happy to help you with anything, he wanted you to trust him so he could help you. he wanted to help you forget all about everything taht you'd been put through and hopefully make better memories with the found family that helped him.

blade ★↷

↪elio always knew how missions would play out, it would be weird if elio didn't seeing as it was always “elios script”. but elio never told them exactly how their missions would play out, only telling them who as required and where they would be going.

↪a rescue mission wasn't exactly blade’s first thought when elio told him and kafka that they had a new mission. blade never complained however, he would go along with elio's script.

↪when kafka and blade found you, he seemed indifferent to your situation - if anything it seemed like he couldn't care less about your sorry state. but in truth, it was quite the opposite.

↪kafka's concern was much more obvious, from the way she gently tried coaxing you to come with them and leave that horrible place, to the way she offered you help along the way. blade's concern was more concealed into anger, a rage directed toward the sick freaks that thought they could get away with doing what they did to you and who knows how many others.

↪you being put into the arms of the stellaron hunters didn't seem like the greatest option after everything you've been through, but it was in the script. clearly it was meant to be. the hunters could just hope that they'd help you get back on track.

↪most would've assumed you would first start opening up to any of the other hunters, blade didn't exactly seem like the best option. but due to his normal silence and rather neutral actions, he provided you the comfort of knowing that he wouldn't do anything. so you started hanging around him because he seemed like the best option.

↪blade didn't push you away, in fact he wouldn't dare. he knew what you'd been through and he knew how kafka or elio would reprimand him for making your state worse - that and he wanted you to recover himself, to try and re-build your life.

↪eventually, the time you spent in a comfortable silence with him developed into you starting to trust him - admittedly not massively but it was still a very welcome step. blade seemed like he would protect you, and you'd be right although a verbal answer would never occur, that he wouldn't let uou fall back into the hands that hurt you.

↪in a very distant way, blade could sympathise with your illness more than the rest of the hunters - in a way, his mara was an incurable illness. and because you spent most your time with him, blade was automatically put in charge of watching over you and your condition.

↪blade would always look out for you, he may seem cold and distant but he had his own ways of helping because they were determined to help you in any way they could.

jing yuan ★↷

↪jing yuan was first introduced to you when he was called to assess a rather serious situation aboard the luofu. you were placed under bailu’s care for the time being, your state was not one of a healthy body and nobody else seemed suitable enough to care for the extent of your “injuries”.

↪although bailu was having a difficult time. due to what you'd been put through, you trusted nobody and they couldn't blame you, so you refused to let anybody come near you. jing yuan felt an immense amount of empathy for you, he couldn't begin to imagine what they did to you and he could only regret that it wasn't discovered quicker.

↪he saw it as a personal fail on his part, representing the whole of the luofu's failure to save you sooner. and so he decided that he would personally see over your recovery - with the help of bailu of course, but he would help you any way he could.

↪again, you were very opposed to being near anybody and it took alot of convincing from jing yuan to eventually get you to come with him. he wanted to help. no matter how long it took or the challenges he would face along the way.

↪initially, you showed him zero trust and he respected and understood it. jing yuan would always go out of his way to try and prove that he was trying to help. although he was extremely glad when you began taking a liking to mimi, who also seemed to take a liking to you as well.

↪eventually, you developed a small bit of trust with the general and jing yuan was over the moon. he saw it as a massive step for you, it was a starting point for helping you get back on track.

↪it pained him to hear from bailu that you had an illness that couldn't be cured. he hoped that you could get better but now that wasn't possible, but he'd still insist that there must be a way to help you a little bit - even if bailu found something for you, they both knew you'd be against it and they would understand.

aventurine ★↷

↪he met you by accident. it was more of a wrong place wrong time situation, but he knew that he couldn't do nothing. he couldn't ignore it and so his main goal was no longer whatever his original intentions where, it was now rescuing you.

↪you unfortunately reminded him of himself around your age. it pained him to see that in you but it pained him even more to know just how much and how long you suffered - and if anything, aventurine was determined to help you himself so that you wouldn't fall into the hands of the IPC like he did.

↪he kept you to his private life, away from the IPC's prying eyes for that exact reason. although you were extremely distant and rather scared if anything at first, he couldn't blame you and if anything it hurt to see someone as young as you like that.

↪slowly but surely, aventurine tried to build up your trust with him, if he was really going to help you he needed your trust and cooperation, but he didn't mind how long you needed to build that trust.

↪it didn't take long for him to notice how you were much weaker most if the time, it worried him in honesty. so aventurine reached out to a very close acquaintance of his to see if he knew anything about how to help you. it pained him even more so to learn that you had a chronic illness - there was nothing he could do to help and it hurt to know that.

↪aventurine was dedicated to giving you the best life possible. with all that you'd been subjected to up to recently meant that he needed to help you recover - he understood he wasn't exactly the best person for it but he was determined. determined to help somebody.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[molluskmirage]

the boogeyman effect following Bbh from purgatory 1 has been a very fascinating phenomenon.

there is alot of residual and lingering opinions of Bad from both characters and fans and its been interesting because having watched Bads pov he really didnt do anything more then what others did in purgatory. Q!Phil is mad because Bad terrorized his team but bad had far less kills then Tubbo, and plenty other teams were around terrorizing others Fit slaughtered Tina and soulfires farmers (most of which then never returned)

Q!Tubbo is mad for ‘day 12’ for a poor decision Bad made, but Bad was carrying the team mostly alone for many many hours the whole 2 weeks (the most out of anyone on the team) I think he could be forgiven for not having the clearest decision making skills running ragged and getting killed.

Q!Bagi feels betrayed by bad and has been more comfortable around tubbo since p1 but tubbo murdered her before she could say a word in p1 and Bad asked for her consent first before doing so.

Q!Etoiles is salty about the 2v1 but he and Fit started it by attacking tubbo alone who then had to run to bad and it was a 2v2 before then becoming a 2v1 as Fit backed away injured

Q!Phil has also mentioned that bad has not taken responsibility for his actions and this is echoed a lot in fan spaces but Bad is constantly taking on blame for things he may have only been adjacent too. He’s said he’s killed a lot of people, he jokes that he’d do it again. He doesnt often show remorse for his actions which I think is more what some are after but he does acknowledge things he doesn’t pretend it never happened. He told Pepito he was a monster. And anytime some express anger towards bad he respects their feelings (that doesn’t mean he’d chose to act differently or feel remorse in such actions but he doesn’t tell anyone theyre not allowed to feel that way)

its a fascinating subject to me because this effect has carried over so strongly within the space despite the fact Bad didn’t even have the highest kills in p1 for soulfire (it was Tubbo by quite a margin) yet Tubbo is often unnamed as the wrongdoer. Bagi set up Bad for death, while it didn’t come to fruition she still did that to Bad. Bad could not do anything but run when red team took on the bounty system which was excruciating to watch. Red also showed no mercy when the boats arrived and killed Bad the sole player for blue leaving his body in a zone that would kill a naked player.

Bad did do wrong he spawn killed Jaiden. However his stalking home bases and killing others in general was no different then all of the other skilled players repertoire. Bad had to play offensively for his team the majority of the time as he was one of the few that could, yet the boogeyman effect holds onto him and warps even his own members perceptions after the fact. Q!Tina as an example very enthusiastic about letting Bad loose in p1 too then scolding him for actions he took under her instruction.

The fan narrative has been the most acutely difficult to manage as the effect is almost to mystic proportions and finding disdain for even mundane actions Bad takes and reading into those as disingenuously as possible always set on more then retribution but truly an end to his character. Which again having watched Bads POV I havent been able to discern anything remarkable that any other character hasnt also partook in.

The difference I have noted is that Bad will always consider himself in the wrong regardless if his actions had justifiable reason behind it. Dapper told Bad to win in purgatory. After purgatory Bad put himself and Dapper down as ‘oh thats just something Dapper would say hes just bloodthirsty, but narratively Dapper has committed self harm in order to protect his siblings and other islanders ((an issue Dapper unfortunately sees in his father and perpetuates himself)) believing he is nothing more then a tool to help those he loves, he would not risk his siblings lives for bloodthirsty humor. Bad knows this but when faced with the hate others saw in him he waves off both his and his sons merit buckling down. Bad and Dapper have dark humor but are always making gifts and finding ways to help others. There is nothing on the island Bad is more set to protect then the eggs and this thought with Dappers message, Q!Bad really thought he needed to go all out to protect them, even still he held back a lot and would 2nd guess because he wanted to be absolutely certain of the egg’s safety.

He wasnt without reason yet with the boogeyman effect looming over his reasons never seem to be able to hold a candle to the more popular characters, and he often concedes a lot to it. He says it with a laugh, tease, and is sassy with it but still he concedes to others perceptions of him as he doesnt want to override others feelings. It can be a bit exhausting as things are blown out of proportion to what they were in originality but on a social breakdown of how things and information travels its very very interesting and I have been enjoying the dive even if it stings sometimes with reflective thoughts.