#this could work with James too tbh

[kairospy]

* at a party *

Regulus: are you drunk?

Barty: no

Regulus: good-

Barty: I accidentally took ecstasy though

[justabunchofdragons]

"just looking at you hurts. i'll order up some extra pain meds." "i love you" and that insane half-dismissive gesture wilson does. this happens after house, famously a staunch atheist, electrocutes himself in the hope of a spiritual experience. we never find out what happened, but we know something did, something important, something he wanted to tell the guy who insisted that the space between death was the best feeling ever, and then house says he loves wilson. wilson thinks house is delirious from the morphine, but nothing house says ever sounds that genuine. i love you because i just died and you were standing over my bed and i knew you would be and i love you because you aren't angry at me for almost killing myself again and i love you because you care about me like no one else and i love you because maybe i need to say it in case i don't make it the next time. because there's no sun in the hospital so sunshine on your face won't say it for me. because every inch of my body aches so i can't move to show you. because we've been fooling around with this feeling but i'm never uninhibited enough to say the truth and i want to say it so i'm going to. and maybe we never mention it again. but maybe house entertained a small, tiny possibility that it could change everything.

[buckyalpine]

Mob Bucky likes his innocent date ft smut

Sigh. I wanted this to be wholesome but it’s horny instead I’m sorry. Might delete tbh. Imagine devilishly gorgeous mob Bucky getting joy out of making his shy date flustered til she’s tripping on her words and unable to speak. He got Steve to find him a date for an event in the evening, uninterested in having to actually find one for himself. He just wants a pretty thing on his arm that he could maybe fuck at the end of the night. Between busy schedules and mob work, Steve doesn’t find anyone so he scrambles to the last person he can think of.

His sisters best friend.

You’re not at all what he was expecting.

He walks down the long staircase in his all black suit, beard trimmed, his cologne intoxicating, coking an eyebrow when he sees the shy thing waiting for him that he’s supposed to go with.

You nearly squeak when he stands before you, too nervous to say anything, your heart running a million miles a minute, knowing exactly who the very James Barnes was. You had no business being here, you were doing this for Steve.

“Hi” you whisper, and Bucky can’t help but smirk at the way you keep tugging at your dress, not meeting his eyes, tipping your chin up to meet his wolfish expression.

“You must be Y/n” he doesn’t let go of your face, noting the goosebumps that now cover your exposed skin from your plunging dress. He doesn’t say much else, letting you squirm, quite enjoying himself.

You want to tell him he looks good, be the confident woman he probably expected to have, exuding grace and poise but you bite your lip instead, nearly whining when he lets go of your chin.

“Y-you um. You look b-beautiful” you finally stutter out, your face burning under his amused gaze.

“Is that so Bambi?” He smirks, cocking his head while you fidget with your fingers. “Hmmm. No one’s called me that before” he chuckles, taking your arm in his and leading you to the limo parked outside.

Your skin is so soft, you smell so sweet and for the first time ever, he doesn’t want to ravage his date to bits. Not when you’re such a soft precious thing.

The night goes well as you grow more and more comfortable with him. He dotes on you the entire time, not letting you lift a finger. He can’t help but take care of you, not letting anyone else near his precious little Bambi.

By the end, he wants to take you home safely like a gentleman but he wants more. And he knows you do too. He can see it in the way you look at him with such longing, nuzzling into his side further and further in the back of the limo.

You’re practically on his lap now, desperately wishing he’d just have his way with you without toy having to say anything but he’d never let that happen.

“What is it Bambi” he whisperers when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding you face in his neck. Your hand trails from his tie to his belt buckle, too embarrassed to go any lower.

“Oh you poor thing” he coos, bringing and pressing your hand on top of his erection, your shaky hands rubbing his bulge like a needy kitten, “do you want my cock baby, s’that it? My Bambi needs her cock?”

“Mhm” you whine, clinging onto him when the limo pulls up to his house, his thick arms wrapping you up and taking you right to his room with no second guesses.

When he gets you into bed, all his animalistic tendencies go out the window, holding back how badly he wants to pounce on you and ravish you like the cute little bunny you are, trapped in the wolfs den. Your gown has been thrown off, lingerie ripped to bits, laying on his bed as he crawls on top of you, his thick, leaky cock bobbing between his legs.

“Are you sure you want this Angel” he checks in with you first, cupping your cheek and swiping his thumb across your pouty lip.

“W-want you” you whisper, shakily reaching down to grasp his cock, swallowing nervously. “I just- I don’t-“

“You don’t have to be scared bunny” he kisses your cheek, placing his hand on top of yours, guiding your strokes. “I’ll teach you how to play with my cock baby”

You tighten your grip, tugging him to where you need him most and he can’t hold back much longer, he’s trying to hard but you makes it impossible.

“Fuck Bambi” he groaned feeling his tip run against your soaked cunt, holding back frok shoving himself in you “keep doing that and I’ll lose control baby”

“Lose control Bucky” you tug at him again and he shakes his head with a strained chuckle.

“I’ll hurt you bunny” he said warns again but you need him to take you apart till you cant walk.

“Please?”

“Bunny…” he warns one last time but you want anymore.

“Daddy” you whine in his ear and something inside him snaps. He doesn’t give you any warning, slamming his cock into you with one stroke, your pleasured cry music to his ears.

“What did you just call me?!” He pulls out to flip you over, spanking your ass while his balls slap your clit, loving the way you go dumb over his cock.

“Such an innocent little baby with a filthy mouth, huh doll, my bunny wants her daddy’s cock”

He grips onto the headboard, delivering powerful snaps with his hips, alternating between pounding you against the pillows and grinding his cock in you without pulling out.

“Such a tight pussy squeezing daddy’s cock, my naughty little bunny, you want daddy’s cream too baby? You want daddy to give you his fresh cum, hm? Breed this needy little pussy?”

“B-breed me daddy!!” You squeal, his words driving you towards your climax, crying into his sheets and arching your back more as his movements grow sloppy.

“Get ready for daddy’s cum baby- gonna breed this pretty pussy till your fuckin’ round n’swollen n’leaking with milk” he gritted out, grabbing your hips with slam back and meet his thrusts. “Together Bambi, cum with daddy, c’mon, be a good girl n’cum with daddy”

The most salacious and primal sounds fill the room as he pumps ropes of his cum into toy, your greedy pussy milking him for all he’s worth. He can’t believe such a quiet little bunny could turn out to be a minx on the inside but he’s never letting you go.

“You’re dangerous Bambi” he whispers, keeping his softening cock in you, having never felt so satisfied afterwards, practically floating in the clouds with you. “M’never pulling my cock out, you feel too good around my dick baby”

You giggle as he kisses your glistening skin, gathering your into his arms, your eyes growing wide when he doesn’t kick you out of his bed.

“You’re mine now Bambi” he says with a soft growl, holding you closer to his chest before pulling the sheets over you both.

Anyway. Wholesome version coming later.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

The second one is for Harry. I don’t have a plot for him tbh. Anything works…maybe something like James and lily are still alive and the reader is Sirius’ and Remus’ daughter (if you’re comfortable with that else she’s just Sirius’s daughter) and that her and Harry have feelings for each other but they make sure that their parents don’t know about this because they think they won’t approve but secretly Sirius and James have made a bet even before they were born that they’d end up dating.

Gonna sign off as - 👀

harry potter x black-lupin!reader where you both decide to come clean about your relationship only to realise the bets that were going on before you were even born

The morning started off innocently enough. You and Harry decided, with great trepidation and a little bit of sweaty-palmed hand-holding, that it was time to come clean to your parents. You’d spent months sneaking around, dodging suspicious looks and sharing whispered secrets under that big oak tree in the Potter backyard. But enough was enough. Today was the day.

At breakfast, you sit on one side of the table, gripping Harry’s hand under it like a lifeline. Across from you, James is mid-story, waving his coffee cup wildly, nearly splashing Sirius, who’s cackling in support. Remus stands by the stove flipping pancakes, while Lily is engrossed in her tea. It’s almost too peaceful. Almost.

You exchange a look with Harry, both of you gulping in unison. Here goes nothing.

You clear your throat, trying to sound calm and confident but ending up squeaking, “We have something to tell you.”

Every head swivels toward you. Four pairs of eyes lock on, and it’s like they’ve turned into your jury.

Sirius’s brows lift, eyes flicking to your joined hands, a smirk already forming. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

James takes a leisurely sip of his coffee, not even trying to hide his amusement. “Go on then, let’s hear it.”

“Uh… well, Harry and I…” You glance at him, wide-eyed. “We’re together. Dating. You know, in a relationship.”

Silence. Deafening, horrible silence. You brace yourself for the absolute chaos about to ensue—a dramatic gasp from Sirius, a whole speech from Remus, something. But instead…

“Oh, finally,” Remus sighs, flipping another pancake like he’s completely unfazed.

“Pay up, Padfoot.” James holds out a hand to Sirius with a smirk that could only mean one thing: they knew.

“Are you—are you betting on us?” Harry sputters, his face turning beet red.

Sirius lets out a long, overly dramatic sigh as he fishes out a handful of Galleons and plunks them into James’s waiting hand. “Yep. And I had my money on last Christmas, but nooo, you two had to make it as painful and drawn-out as possible.”

James shrugs, looking positively delighted. “I told him you two would take forever. I mean, you’re related to Sirius, for Merlin’s sake.”

“Oh, come on!” you snap, indignant. “You didn’t even wait for us to tell you?”

Sirius leans forward, smirking like he’s the world’s wisest sage. “Kid, you were about as subtle as a hippogriff in a teashop. ‘Oh, dad, we’re just going out to ‘study.’’” He air-quotes aggressively. “Or, ‘Oh, daddy, it’s so peaceful under the oak tree.’”

“Do you know how many times I nearly hexed you?” Remus says, shaking his head, clearly unimpressed. “Once or twice would’ve been fine, but the ‘study dates’? Please.”

Harry’s face falls into his hands, groaning. “So you… knew? This entire time?”

James snorts, leaning back with the air of someone who has been utterly vindicated. “Son, I’ve known since you looked at her like she’d personally invented Quidditch.” He raises a smug eyebrow at Lily. “Which, by the way, was second year.”

Lily laughs softly. “Second year, James? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”

“Oh, not at all,” James replies with a flirty expression. “I’d know that look anywhere—it’s exactly how I used to look at you.”

You and Harry exchange an exasperated look. “So… none of you are upset?” you ask, bewildered.

Remus grins, nudging you both toward the table. “Not at all. In fact, this is excellent news because now I can finally use your time together as leverage for chores.”

Lily laughs, patting your shoulder with a wink. “Honestly, we were all just waiting to see how long you’d last before one of you cracked.”

Sirius, meanwhile, is dramatically clutching his chest. “I was holding out for the Christmas confession! So many prime opportunities wasted! I could have retired on those winnings!”

“Oh, get over it,” James says with a slap on his back. “We all saw it coming from a kilometer away.”

And as you and Harry sit there, faces hot with embarrassment and disbelief, the rest of them toast to the “official family binding,” clinking glasses and laughing like this is the best entertainment they’ve had in years.

thank you so much for requesting, 👀!! If it is no trouble, could you tell your age and gender?

[buckysdollbarnes]

you are in love - Masterlist

PAIRING: tfawts!bucky x grad student!reader

Summary: Moving to NYC to go to grad school, your friend's dad has a connection with the owner of a rental building in Brooklyn where you can live on your own, for cheaper than you could get anywhere else. On a student's budget, you strive to still make your place your own by thrifting as much decor as possible. Meeting your quiet and somewhat secretive neighbor, James, you gain some free labor to help you move the random stuff you buy, and with that he may be growing to love parts of the modern world he has been missing. With you in a big, new city feeling alone for the first time and Bucky wanting to make a connection with someone other than Sam and his therapist, maybe online marketplaces and a turntable will bring you both what you need most.

Warnings: beefy!bucky, injury, mild language, mentions of crime, a bit of angst, eventual smut (MINORS DNI) , kind of slow burn ig, overwhelming fluff tbh

a/n: this will be a multi-part series and I will try my very best to upload regularly, not sure how many parts that will be so there's only a few placeholders for now, but it will definitely be a bit of a longer fic! im currently in college AND working so this is a passion project <3 I'd love to hear your feedback, my asks are always open! the chapters are also all based on lyrics from Taylor Swift's You Are In Love, one of my favorite love songs of all time. hope you all enjoy!!!

one - one look, dark room

two - meant just for you

three - time moved too fast

four - you play it back

TBC

[cosmal]

waitttt aerial writing poly!marauders?? omg. how about them looking after sick or injured reader I feel like that could be so cute!!!! they’re all worrywart bfs tbh

emergency contact

summary james gets called when you faint at work. and then sirius. then remus. you feel awful

content poly!marauders x fem!reader

note this was combined with another request. I accidentally deleted it I'm super sorry but it was a request for poly x fem!reader where the boys come to your work after fainting!

You feel really embarrassed sitting at the end of the bar, ice pack held to your head, mouth wrapped around the straw in your drink.

Your embarrassment turns to worry when you see James walking across the room. He’s rushing, hair a mess, mud tracked up his calves. He’s still in his rugby kit.

You turn your head to look at your colleague. “Ash, you told me you wouldn’t call anyone!” You’re not really upset, you feel like a bit of a nuisance.

“It’s procedure, Y/N. I’m sorry.” She doesn’t sound very sorry. You don’t blame her.

“Sweetheart,” he says when he reaches you. He’s frantic, soft about it, but still upset. “Are you okay? They told me you fainted.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say instead of a hello. You feel entirely stupid.

“What?” He grasps your shoulder and squeezes hard. “What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I feel bad,” you say quietly, voice a little thick. You screw your face up and your head tinges. A dull pain that radiates down into the back of your skull.

“Please, don’t.” He says. Firm with a hint of worry he’s trying to mask. If James cries you think you might too, and you really wouldn’t put it past him.

You drop the pack to the bar and take his hand, fingers damp with condensation that transfers to his palm. “I’m fine. Promise.”

“You bumped your head?” He uses his free hand to hold your face, careful where he has his fingers. His eyes track over your face to search for any harm. You’re blood-free, luckily, though there’s a red mark blooming up and into your hairline. Most likely to bruise.

“Yeah.” Your eyes flutter closed because you can’t help it.

“You’re not feeling drowsy?” comes James’s voice.

“No, feels nice,” you chuckle, a tiny huff of air. “Your hands are warm.”

You don’t expect it, but suddenly, you’re hearing Sirius’s worried voice come from the other side of the room. You crane your head around James' broad shoulders to see him, haloed by the light coming through the front door.

“Why is he here?” you mumble, feeling worse by the second. It comes out worse than it sounded in your head.

Apparently, he hears you. “He is here because James had to call him.” He hugs you almost immediately. Big, warm hands come around to cage you in against his chest. You hide the good side of your face into his neck and huff. “Do you not want me here?”

You pull back quickly and really regret it. Blinking back the hot, pinching pain in your face. “What? No, I’m just…ugh.”

Sirius pouts, then hums a sympathetic noise from the back of his throat. He keeps his hands on your shoulders. “It’s okay, honey. Don’t worry about it, yeah?”

You close your eyes and incline your head to lean it down on his ringed-up hand. Your cheek all smooshed up against him.

“Is she okay?” You hear him ask James. He hums a yes. “She’s not concussed?”

“She doesn’t think so,” he says.

“She is right here,” you mumble. You pull back from his chest and swing your legs over the chair.

"I'm sorry, lovely." He looks like he wants to hug you again. "You're okay? Had some water?"

You nod. "Just really wanna go home."

"All right, let's go, yeah?" James takes your elbow to help you off the stool, and Sirius steadies you by the shoulder. It's kind of adorable how gentle they're being with you. Soft hands and pinched brows. They both make a funny sound when you wobble a little.

James grabs your bag and throws it over his shoulder and you all leave.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," you say before you get to the door. "Were you at work? You won't get in trouble for leaving, will you?"

"No, it's okay. Don't worry about that." He smiles.

You will. You'll no doubt feel bad for the rest of the week.

You bump into Remus on your way out. He holds the door open for you. He looks like he's run up the block. "Rem, baby, they didn't call you too?" You're not sure why you hadn't expected it. If he wasn't here, he'd definitely feel horrible.

"Dove, you're okay?" he pants. He holds your face in his hands and you try not to cry. You're not sure if having them all here makes you feel better or worse. "God, I was so worried."

The first tear leaves a hot track down your cheek. You push yourself into Remus's chest instead of answering and wrap your hands around his waist. He crosses his arms over your back.

He moves you out of the way of the entrance and you scuffle along with him. Your tears are slow, dampening his shirt, catching the brunt of your upset. You don't make any horrible sounds, just quiet, sticky tears.

He encourages your face back with a firm, pinching hand. You blink back the end of your cries. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare everyone."

"Don't worry," he says, corners of his mouth trembling into a sad smile. "It's all good. As long as you're okay."

"I just," you take a stuttering breath, "just got really tired. I probably shouldn't have worked today."

Sirius kisses the end of your eyebrow, right across your temple. "You've been working a bit too much, I think."

"I didn't ruin anyone's day?" You sniffle way too sadly for anyone's opinion. Remus squeezes you closer with almost bruising fingertips.

"No, lovely," James says, sticky smile gracing his lips. "Don't worry about it, okay? We just wanted to be here for you. That's our job."

"Right," you say, voice catching at the end.

Sirius shucks your jacket on for you as the wind outside picks up. "Speaking of being here for you," he says. "Is James your emergency contact?"

"No, you all are," you tell him, a hint of laughter in your words.

"Right."

Then, you start actually laughing. "Was he the only one to pick up?"

"I think so," he joins in.

"What if it was serious?" Suddenly, you're teasing.

"It was serious!" Remus balks.

"You didn't answer the phone!"

Everyone goes quiet. You burst out into the biggest fit of giggles, smiling so widely it hurts. "I'm kidding!" you say, struggling to speak. "God, stop. Look at your faces! Stop - stop it, my head hurts."

James cages you in against his chest, stealing you from Remus. "My poor baby," he coos. "Oh, they're awful, awful boyfriends."

"Fuck off," Sirius grumbles. "Just cause you're always on your phone."

"Don't listen to them, honey." He's awful. "You comin' in my car?"

"If you stop being mean, then yeah."

"Yeah, you fuckin' tell him, Y/N." Comes Remus's grumpy voice.

[fairytaleendingss]

Hey lovely, first, I just want to say I love your work so much. I wanted to request a poly Marauders fic with a female reader who's struggling with schoolwork and is overall feeling depressed. She starts to isolate herself from everyone, her grades drop, and she stops taking good care of herself. I understand this is a heavier topic, but I've been stuck in a slump and would love an angst/comfort fic. Either way, thank you!

Thanks for the request! Generally, I don't mind writing about heavier topics so don't be afraid to ask (hurt/comfort is my favourite thing to write tbh). I'm sorry you're not doing well but I hope this makes you feel a little better.

Overworked

Summary: The boys comfort you when you've been struggling with your school load.

Pairing: Poly!Marauder x fem!reader

CW: Angst, reader not taking care of herself, poor mental health.

—

It was getting dark outside, you noticed, glancing out the window of the library. Silver stars had began to twinkle in the inky black sky and the moon, in it's waning phase was hanging just outside of window, casting gentle rays off light over the table before you.

You didn't know how long you'd been there but from the looks of things, it'd been a while. It had been mid-afternoon when you'd decided to venture into the library for a study session.

Now it was late, it seemed, and your half-written essay sat before you, staring into your soul like it was mocking you. You rubbed your eyes, in an attempt to clear your blurring vision.

You'd been working on this essay for what seemed like days but for some reason, you just couldn't make it work. This was your fourth re-write and you still weren't satisfied. You resigned yourself to the idea that you may have to pull yet another all-nighter tonight if you were going to get it ready for submission in a few days.

It had been like this for weeks. A constant cycle of submitting essays and starting new ones, in preparation for your upcoming NEWTs. It was becoming overwhelming. The work was piling up and this point you were struggling to see the finish line. It felt as though no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't manage to keep up and it was killing you.

You'd barely had time to sleep over the last few weeks and when you did, it was full of horrid dreams of missing due dates and failing exams. You we're completely drained of energy, engulfed by stress and had barely had time to take care of yourself amongst the hours of exam prep you'd put yourself through. Your friends had started to notice it too, the way you'd withdrawn yourself. You'd begun to pull out of group events and stop engaging with conversations on the rare occasions when you did find time to spend with them.

And the worst part of it all is that you'd had to blow of your amazing boyfriends more times than you could count. You were sure it was starting to take a toll on them as well but you were too embarrassed to tell them about what was going on. They were all so naturally smart and got good grades without barely having to try (apart from Remus, of course, who studied like his life depended on it.)

So instead of opening up to them about your struggles and your concerns, you'd taken to avoiding them where you could, which was only proving to fill you with guilt on top of everything else.

You noticed a splash of water drop onto the parchment in front of you but you were quick to wipe it away. You had to remain focused.

You didn't know how much time had passed when you heard the gentle pitter patter of footsteps across the stone floor. You looked up to see the one and only James Potter, eyes scanning the space, clearly in search of something.

You raised a brow at the sight. You weren't quite sure what he was doing here. James rarely entered the library of his own volition. You wondered for a moment if he had gotten lost.

Then his gaze landed on you and his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He jogged over to you, placing a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. Then he crouched down beside where your form was slumped over the desk.

"Hey there, lovely. We've been looking for you everywhere. You missed dinner."

He was looking into your eyes with such affection that they once again, welled with tears. He looked beautiful in the low light of the library. His dark curls were disheveled as usual, flopping down into his eyes, and he was wearing his signature lopsided smile, the one that usually never failed to cause butterflies to flutter in your stomach. However, in this moment in just caused a wave a guilt to wash over you. You didn't deserve him. You didn't deserve any of your wonderful boyfriends.

Sensing your distress, a crease of concern formed between James' eyebrows. He reached out a hand to every so gently brush a stand of hair behind your ear, his thumb hovering for a moment, rubbing small circles in your cheek.

"What's wrong sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry I missed dinner," you pouted, trying to keep your tears at bay. "I didn't mean stand you up again."

"That's okay, love," James chuckled sympathetically. "We're just worried about you is all."

Your bottom lip wobbled at that. You knew you'd been slack in your efforts with the boys recently and it hurt your heart to make them upset like this.

"Oh darling, come 'ere." he tugged you towards him, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his muscular arms around your shaking frame.

This is when the floodgates opened and you found yourself sobbing into the front of James' shirt. You gripped the fabric for dear life as he held you, not taking any notice of the wet patch you were creating on his front. He whispered soft reassurances in your hair, rubbing your back gently and you finally let the emotions wash over you.

Eventually your tears began to slow and you pulled away, sniffling pathetically. You looked into James' hazel eyes, which were now clouded with concern.

He opened his mouth to say something more but you were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps rushing towards the two of you.

"Prongs?" Sirius voice echoed out through the Library. "Are you in here?"

"Yeah, I found her," he called back.

A moment later, the figures of your other two boyfriends peered around a bookcase. The relief melted from their expressions when they took in the sight of year tear stained cheeks.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" Sirius rushed towards you and James moved aside to let him take a closer look at you.

"Did someone hurt you? I'll kill them."

This elicited a chuckle from you as you wiped your eyes with a shaky hand.

"No Sirius, I'm okay. You don't have to fight anyone."

"Well thank god for that," Remus sighed teasingly. "We wouldn't want anyone messing up that pretty face of yours, would we?"

Sirius took on a look of mock offense. "How dare you! They wouldn't have time to get a lick in if they hurt our girl."

"Well, luckily you don't have to worry about fighting any imaginary people just yet," you giggled.

Remus took a seat at your other side, happy to see Sirius was able to make you smile. He hadn't caught many of those as of late. As he sat down at the table, he noticed your unfinished essay.

"Darling, tell us what's got you so upset?" he pressed.

You took a deep breath. "I've just been so overwhelmed lately. I just feel like I can't keep up and the work just keeps piling up. I don't know if I can do it anymore."

"Oh, love," Sirius cooed, a deep frown gracing his delicate features. "Why didn't you tell us."

"I don't know. You guys are so good at school. I was just embarrassed I suppose."

Remus reached out a gentle hand to rub your back. "You never have to be embarrassed around us, lovely. We just want to help you. We can't do that if we don't know what's going on."

"I'm sorry," you mumbled pathetically. You felt a bit silly now for ever thinking they'd judge you.

"It's okay, sweets," James muttered. "We'll always be here for you if you need us. No matter what, alright?"

"Yeah," Sirius added. "Even if it means I have to fight someone."

You chuckled, shaking your head.

"There's that gorgeous smile of yours," he exclaimed and placed a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Now, what can we do to help?" Remus asked gently. He had this kind, nurturing aura about him that always had a way of putting you at ease.

You sighed, mentally assessing your list of tasks. "I need to finish this essay but I just can't seem to get to the end."

"It sounds to me like what you need, love, is a good nights sleep. You need to take care of yourself before anything else." He suggested, looking at you sweetly.

"Maybe you're right," you relented. Remus always was the wise one of the group.

"Come on!" Sirius exclaimed. "Lets get you up to bed. James can sneak down to the kitchen and grab you some food and then Remus can help you with your work in the morning. How does that sound?"

He helped you up from your chair and James swung your bookbag over his shoulder.

"That sounds nice," you told him earnestly.

Sirius tucked you under his arm while Remus gently grabbed your other hand in his and you began to make your way towards the tower.

"I have one more thing to ask though," you announced as you made your way through the castle halls.

"Anything," Remus answered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"When we get back to the dorm, do you think we can cuddle for a bit?"

James turned around to face you from where he was walking ahead, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"Darling, you never have to ask for that."

[oldfashioned-lovergirl]

omg hihihi!!! im obsessed with the fic you wrote for niki and james and i was wondering if you could write one for ayrton senna? maybe with the reader being his teammate and its their first season and just him falling in love with her? idk tbh. its criminal that theres so little fics of him im obsessed with him currently xx

☽ OLD MONEY — ayrton senna x reader

tags: car crash

note: fr there are no fics about him. also i love old f1 vibes

masterlist

✧༺ ☽ ༻∞　　∞༺ ☽ ༻✧

When you first met him, you immediately noticed how oddly he was looking at you. You couldn’t get whatever he was thinking, so you just assumed he didn’t like you. For a time. Then one day something changed.

You crashed in Imola. You got out of the car without even a scratch, but the faces of the people when you returned to the paddock with the ambulance made you guess it mustn’t have looked good from the screens.

And there he was. Despite the very few words you exchanged since you knew each other, rushing towards you, none other than the best driver on the grid, your rival and teammate Ayrton Senna.

Brown eyes filled with worry and hair still soaked in sweat, he called your name and took your arms in his hands. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I– I think I’m okay. I just got scared.” You didn’t know why you were telling your feelings to him, you just didn’t think much about it.

“Me too.” For a moment you thought he was gonna pull you in a hug, but he didn’t. He just softly put a hand on you cheek and then let go of you. “Glad to know you’re well, pequena.”

You found Ayrton standing in front of his Porsche Cabriolet at the end of the day. It was getting dark, few people were still in the paddock to celebrate his victory.

You hurried to reach him before he left. “Ayrton.” He turned around, but you know he was already looking at you from afar. He clearly had a shower because he smelled fresh and the red overalls had given way to a white elegant shirt. “I wanted to congratulate. Also, thank you for worrying about me earlier, you kind of reassured me.”

“No need to thank me.” He made a pause. You wondered if it was time for you to go. “You know, I was going to dinner with a friend but he won’t be able to come. Would you like to join? I have a reservation for two.”

You stared at him, surprised by the invitation, then looked down at your own jeans and blouse outfit. “I don’t know if I’m suited for the situation.”

“You are.” He opened the front seat door for you. “Let’s go.”

The restaurant was a villa in the Emilian countryside. You had never seen such a beautiful place in your entire life.

The dinner went very well. You ate pasta on a table in the garden. There were warm lights that made the location very cozy. Ayrton was so sweet, very different from the fierce man everybody saw on track. You talked about the race, but not only. You learned more about his personal life and viceversa. He asked if you were seeing someone, you shook your head. “And you?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

You thought of the gorgeous girls he was often photographed with. You didn’t believe yourself to be that pretty.

“I’m sorry if I’m not very talkative between one race and the other, I’m just trying to stay professional.” His freckles were as glaring as ever in that light. After his words, you realized you may have misinterpreted his detachment. “But when you crashed today… I don’t know, it seemed dangerous from my point of view. The thought of not seeing you next to me anymore scared me a lot.”

Spelling those words, Ayrton was playing with the glass of water in his hand, his eyes shyly looking downwards. “So I wondered if you’d like to hang out. Outside of work, I mean.”

In his own words, that was a declaration.

“I–“ That was what you wanted since you saw him introducing himself in that conference room, however you knew how risky the situation you were putting yourself into was. But right there, looking up at you with those eyes full of hope, surrounded by that magical place, he was so handsome. “I’d love to.”

[gooppoo]

asked for filth? alright

how about jake fucking the reader in ways the na’vi dont usually do? like eating her pussy making her sit on his face, fingering her, all the ways that you think they wouldn’t do and reader is just overwhelmed and so fucked out while hes laughing at her lovingly

no this is a really interesting concept bc how does james cameron b havin these mfs get down and dirty?

Let me show you.

Requests Closed!!

mdni.

warnings: oral (reader receiving), fingering, face sitting, jake is actually being a softy (surprise surprise)

p.s. challenging myself to condense my writing bc I tend to overwrite tbh

"Yes, sit, right here." Jake giggled at your bashful nature.

You swallowed nervously, "I-I don't know Jake..."

He swished his hand nonchalantly, "Babe, I promise, you're gonna love it. When I was one of the sky people we did this all the time." Your ears flattened when he mentioned the sky people, "Listen, just try it, if you don't like it, we'll stop." He cocked a brow.

Your tongue ran over your teeth thoughtfully. Hesitantly, you shuffled toward his expression, praying that he was true to his word (his devilish smile was less than convincing).

Either side of his head, your thighs rested, one hand stuck out in front of you for stability. Jake chirped from beneath you to see if you were ready, and you sighed, unsure.

A wet, warm sensation spread across your folds and toward your clit. Your body involuntarily stiffened and jolted your hips away from his mouth.

"Woah woah hey, just my tongue. Don't worry baby." He studied your anxious stare, chewing on your bottom lip, "Only gonna use my tongue and my fingers. Promise." His wink was not as comforting as he thought, but still cute.

In your chest, your heart hammered making the rest of your body hot. It all seemed so new all at once, and it was overwhelming.

But...from the little bit you had, it felt pretty damn good.

Still, you proceeded with caution, and returned to your original position. You waited for his tongue to explore again, instead he opted to peck along your thighs. A part of you wanted to protest and whine for him to focus on your clit, but you let him show his expertise.

When his tongue made a reappearance, it was trailing toward your much wetter core. Again, the temptation crept up to force his tongue where you wanted it, but you were patient. And soon enough that patience paid off because before you could form another coherent thought, Jake was showing you that it was possibly for you to form incoherent thoughts.

It was like he was kissing you, making out with you messily, only it felt one hundred times better. All you could really do was gasp and mewl, feel Jake pull you harder down onto his character to dive deeper into you. At times, you'd both hum when you'd hips would buck out of pure pleasure.

But as soon as you adjusted to this new phenomena, another was introduced, this time you didn't pull away. There was a weak prodding at your slippery entrance - perhaps his fingers he had mentioned - sometimes penetrating through the tiniest bit just to slide back out.

It was different, and would take some adjusting, but as long as Jake kept his attention on your clit there wouldn't be any protest or insecurity. And he knew this too, he wouldn't send your body into shock and shove two fingers into you just to quicken the process. So he took his time building up to massaging your g-spot and keeping a blissful pace on your clit with his magical tongue.

Eventually, he was knuckle deep in you, stimulating your most sensitive spots and watching you gradually unfold on top of him. Feeling your thighs relax almost too much, cunt pulsing around his working digits, it was just as he had remembered it.

However, he couldn't sustain this rhythm forever, it would only get you so far, and he wanted you cumming on his face! He tried his best to be as unsuspecting while lapping at your clit and applying more vigor to your insides. And while this did send you further into your clouded mind of lust, it also quickly became too much.

"Jake - jake," you tried to warn him that you were on the cusp of overstimulation.

"Keep saying my name baby," he laughed against you. The faint tremble in your thigh and the tightening of your naval told him everything he needed to know, "I know it's a lot, it's okay. You're doin' fuckin' great." Most of his words were muffled, the vibration of his voice sending chills up your spine.

Sooner than he has expected, your thighs were stiffening, and your walls were tightening. He continued his pace with a sprinkle of passion, knowing what was waiting for him around the corner.

"Jake - oh, OH!"

There it was. That honeydew sweetness dripping down his fingers and coating his tongue. Making your sturdy legs shake and clit become too sensitive to even kitten lick. Jake was pussy whipped, no question about it.

When enough was enough, his half-damp face peaked from underneath you, an overly cocky smile plastered on his features.

"Whatcha think?" You nodded, still gasping for air, "I knew you'd like it."

[emswritings]

HIHI maybe u could do poly!marauders where reader is upset and they js cuddle her and make sure she's okay and stuff idk i thought it'd be cute

Let us hug you

Synopsis: you had a bad day, but the boys help cheer you up

Wordcount: 0.7k

Tags: poly!marauders x reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader gets a period

Authors note: tbh im not too used to writing hurt, so there isn't much

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been a horrible day for you. First, you get your period and have absolutely horrid camps, then you spill your breakfast on your uniform. That makes you have to go back to your dorm and change, which causes you to be late to your first class, making you lose house points.  All you wanted was a hug from your boys, but every time you tried they always had something they needed to do.

“Sorry dovey, I need to tutor some first years.” 

“Later angel, me and Sirius have practice.”

So you were laying in Sirius’s bed, trying to make yourself feel better about the day.  The tears were flowing freely as their words played on loop in your head. Logically, you knew they were busy, and you knew they weren’t avoiding you, but you couldn't help but feel as though they were.

When James and Sirius entered the dorm after practice, they were met with your sleeping form facing away from them. James coos softly, watching as Sirius makes his way over to you. He pushes your hair back from your head and sucks in a quiet breath when he sees the dried tear streaks on your face. 

“Should we wait for Remus to get back?” James whispers, trying not to wake you yet. Sirius looks up at him and nods his head.

“Let's wait for her to wake up and then ask what's wrong.”

“Wait for who to wake up?” You asked grogily, turning over to face Sirius and James. They jump, then turn towards you smiling. 

“You, lovey,” James says, walking towards you on the bed. You sit up and make room for him beside you, leaning into his side when he does.

“Why?” You ask. You look between them, then groan when yet another cramp hits you.  Leaning more on James now, you wrap your arms around his middle and groan, “missed you guys today.”

James and Sirius exchange a look, but they don't have a chance to say anything, because Remus comes into the dorm. 

“Those first years are getting better and better each time we meet. I think they have a really good chance of getting an O on their next test. Woah, what's wrong dove?” He asks, just now seeing how unwell you looked, and how worried his two boyfriends looked.

“I don't feel good,” you whine quietly, looking up at Remus when he comes over to feel your forehead.

“Oh yeah? What doesn’t feel good lovey?” James asks, running a hand up and down your arm. You sigh, but respond, “it has just been a bad day, and I couldn’t hug any of you, because every time I tried, someone was busy. I know that's not your fault or anything, and I'm not mad at any of you, but still.”

Sirius coos, and sits down at the foot of your bed. “Well, how about this: how about we push some beds together, and cuddle while you tell us what made the day so horrible. Sounds good?” You smile at him and nod, letting out a small, “yeah.”

Sirius and Remus get to work on pushing James’s bed next to where Sirius’s bed is already at. You watch as they get comfortable, and smile when Sirius tells you to go ahead and start the story.

“Well, this morning I got my period, and have been hit with cramps all day. Then, I spilled breakfast on my uniform, so I had to go change, which made me late to Slughorn's class, who took away house points. It sounds a little silly now that I say it aloud, but, I don't know, I just wanted a hug all day.” You finish your mini rant, and change your position so you're laying down.

“I’m sorry love, that had to suck. But we’re here now, so we can lay here as long as you want, alright?” Sirius asks you, smiling when he sees your nod. 

So that's where you stay. At least until dinner, then the boys do rock, paper, scissors to see who is going to get everyone dinner. James and Sirius end up being the two losers, so they go down to the great hall, and Remus takes the chance to pull you close to him. Your front is pressed up against his, and you smile against his chest, and wrap your arms around his middle. You can't be sure, but you're almost certain you heard him whisper “love you” against your hairline. 

James and Sirius come back, and you sit up to eat dinner, then you spend the rest of the night laughing  and cuddling, falling asleep in eachothers arms.

[yourmidnightlover]

getting it over with - ch 1

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: after relentless teasing and being the butt of too many jokes, you ask bucky to help you become more experienced in… a particular area of your life

warning: precious bucky, virgin shaming?, virgin reader, slight male!oc x reader, sexual harrassment, illuding to sex, talk of sex

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i am working on part 2 in my other series, timeless. i've been debating two different ways i could take it and it's been an internal battle trying to figure that out. that being said, i can't help myself and started writing this and so here it is! this will likely be a simple mini series with smut in the later parts, probably the next one tbh. anywho... enjoy!

another night with the girls, and yet another night of beng singled out and ridiculed over a miniscule part of your life. 

you were a well accomplished woman and yet all of your hard work has consistently been overlooked in nearly every conversation because of your extracurricular activities. or, well, more like your lack of extracurricular activities. 

you had been working with the avengers for five years now as their pr manager, living there for a little over three after finding it was easier to represent and present the team in a brighter light when you knew more about them. it was after you moved in that you got much closer to james ‘bucky’ barnes, who you’ve coined the nickname of ‘jamie’ for. your friends also began to question why you hadn’t, in their terms, “banged,” one of the avengers you happened to live with.

truth be told, you did enjoy spending time with them, especially bucky. but, that would be crossing a line. you were practically employed by them. well, technically you were employed by tony, but that didn’t change the fact that they were your clients. it was just particularly easy to find the good in the people who constantly saved the world. well, that, and you were supposed to make them look good anyway. 

the most difficult one to paint in the golden light was definitely bucky. you were great at getting the media to lean into his humanity and reminding them of how he had been tortured into what he became. you’ve imagined him to the public as “sargeant bucky barnes,” giving him back the title he earned rather than the name he was branded. he was still wary of venturing into the eye of the public, but everytime he did there were less people yelling at him and more people giving pitying looks and whispers. sure, he would rather not be recognized at all, but whispering was a hell of a long way from harassment. 

bucky was grateful for everything you’d done for him. truth be told, you were grateful for everything they had done for you anyway. hell they had repeatedly saved all of humanity, helping their reputation was the least you could do for them. 

but regardless of how well of a job you’ve done making the avengers’ reputation way lighter, somehow the only thing your old friends could talk about is how you’re somehow still a virgin.

“god, i can’t believe you’re still a virgin sometimes. especially being surrounded by hunks like him,” stephanie spoke up as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “i would’ve tried my luck long before i cleared their name, girl. i mean, that sergeant guy has the prettiest blue eyes, and have you never wondered what he could do with that metal hand of his?” 

you rolled your eyes, “he’s more than a pretty face, steph. he’s actually really sweet, too. his humor’s a bit old, kinda like a grandpa.”

“well, if he’s a grandpa then i’d gladly be his sugar baby,” she squeaked as she sipped on her vodka cranberry. 

“can we not talk about him like that?” your face furrowed in embarrassment and you only hoped that she would take your blushing as remnants of the alcohol running through your body.

“why?” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “do you want him or something?” she paused, seeingly waiting for your response. clearly, your silence was answer enough. “oh my god you like him, don’t you?” 

“no, no, it’s not like that,” you shook your head as you downed the rest of your drink. “i just spend a lot of time with him because of the job, y’know?” 

“why don’t you just get him to pop your precious cherry?” she ventured as she stood from her stool. 

boy, had you wished for that. mostly in your wildest dreams, but part of you hoped it could maybe happen. but then, you would wake up and were reminded of your place in the world. besides, jamie was over 100 years old. there’s no way he’d want someone who didn’t know what they were doing in the bedroom. 

“or,” steph interrupted your thoughts. “we can get out there and find you a different guy to pop your cherry,” she finished with a wink as she grabbed your hands, pulling you from your seat and to the dance floor. 

you managed to sneak a glance at the clock before the crowd surrounding you made it more difficult, reading the time being 11 pm. you told the guys you’d be back before 1, so that gave you enough time to please stephanie and then politely excuse yourself. 

surprisingly, you had begun to enjoy yourself. the music wasn’t so bad with the surge of confidence the alcohol running through your veins gave you. after a few too many drinks, you were in your own world. finally unbothered by the nagging thoughts of your friends and the weight of your job on your shoulders. 

you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder before turning to see a sweet smile. he had big, brown eyes and shaggy hair, broad shoulders, none that compared to the men you lived with, but they were nice nonetheless. 

“hi,” he said even sweeter than his smile, keeping his hands to himself politely. “i-i’m noah.”

“well, hello, noah,” you smiled as you stepped closer to him, uncharacteristically throwing your arms around his neck as you continued to sway to the music. “y/n.”

“i-uh-you-you’re gorgeous,” he stuttered as his hands modestly found your waist.

“you really think so?” you said teasingly before leaning up to his ear. “i think you are super cute, yourself.” 

at this point, you had nearly forgotten all about stephanie’s presence at all. maybe she had already left with another guy, herself? who knows. right now, all you knew was that you didn’t know brown eyes could be so pretty. mayb you didn’t want to wait anymore. maybe you didn’t want to be the old virgin in your friend group anymore. maybe noah could change that.

“you’re unreal,” he chuckled as he continued to sway with you for the next song until you began to kiss on his neck. 

“you taste so sweet,” you commented in his ear before kissing right below it. he pulled back, giving you a sweet smile before connecting your lips together. 

“you taste sweeter, believe me,” he huffed out a breath as you reconnected your lips with his. 

“i think i want you, noah,” you whispered against his lips so softly he wasn’t sure he even heard you. “pretty please?” 

“ye-yea, sure,” he guided you out of the bar, you needing nearly all of his support to even walk out of the threshold of the door. 

“think ‘m sleepy, noah,” you mumbled against his neck as the cold air hit your face, as if it had began to sober you up.

“you just said you wanted me…?” he perplexed as he pulled you aside into the ally to gather yourself. 

“‘m sorry, noah,” you shrugged as the cold air hit you again. “‘s cold outside, can i go back in?” you turned to walk back inside when he grabbed your arm, probably a bit more harsh than he intended to. 

“what the fuck?” he sounded disappointed. “i complimented you, i let you make the first move, and now you just wanna back out?” he pulled you closer to his body. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“i-i dunno, i just got confused i think?” you stumbled as you tried to back away once more. “it’s too cold out here, noah.” 

“maybe this’ll warm you up,” he grabbed your pliable face and brought you back in for a kiss before you tried to push him away again.

“y/n?” you heard a raspy voice call out. “what the fuck?” you turned to see your jamie confused.

“jamie!” you tred to wiggle out of noah’s grasp once more, a disgruntled look on your face as you did so. “jamie…” you were now limply wrestling out of noah’s grasp as he scoffed at the situation in front of him. 

“what?” he said in disbelief. “you wanna lead me on and leave with this guy?”

“noah-”

“i think you need to back of the lady, alright, man?” bucky spoke up as he stepped closer towards you. “she’s clearly a bit drunk, just let me take her home and we’ll be on our way. no harm, right?” he tried to reason with the douchebag. 

“no harm?” he grasped your arm tighter before he continued, making you wince slightly. “so this bitch is able to fucking lead me on and then leave me high and dry and there’s ‘no harm’?”

“okay, i’ve tried to be nice about this,” without a second of hesitation, he had noah’s arms behind his back, not enough to seriously injure him, but just enough to harm him enough to not tempt him to do any more harm. “you will apologize to miss y/n for talking to her the way you did, you will walk away, and you won’t do anything like that to any woman in the near future, understood?” noah nodded. “am i understood?!” 

“yes, yes!” bucky nudged him further in your direction as you were leaning your back against the brick wall for stability. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“for…?” bucky taunted.

“i’m sorry for talking to you the way i did.”

“good boy,” bucky teased as he released the man, letting him run away and not sparing him another glance before he made his way closer to you. 

“‘m sorry, jamie,” you stumbled forward and threw your arms around him. you had never been so openly affectionate, especially with bucky since you knew his aversions. since you were so drunk, you simply didn’t register the unspoken boundaries you had unintentionally set in place for yourself. “didn’t wanna make him mad. jus’ changed my mind s’all,” you buried your face in his neck. 

“you have a right to change your mind, doll,” he soothed as he gently rubbed your back, leading you to steve’s car he borrowed. 

“y/n?” you snapped your head to look at bucky as he spoke. “i don’t want you to be so late again, doll. it’s almost 2 am. had me worried sick about ya,” his hand danced on your knee, you assumed to comfort you after the events of the night.

“i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “i swear, i just lost track of time. s’not like me to do this. i just got so mad and wanted to get it over with, y’know?”

“get what over with?”

“you won’t laugh at me?” you grabbed his hand that was resting on your knee and turned in your seat to face your body towards him. “never, doll,” he chuckled at your serious tone.

“i’m tired of bein’ a virgin,” you said with a sense of disappointment. “don’ want people makin’ fun of me anymore.”

“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, doll,” he shook his head as he put the car in park before running to your side of the car and helping you out. “some people want to save that moment, i get it.”

“no,” you groaned as you leaned into him. “i don’t wanna save it. i was just scared at first, and then i didn’t want to, and now it’s too late because nobody wants to be with a virgin.”

“that’s not true, y/n,” he shook his ehad as he pressed your shared floor on the elevator. 

“would you wanna have sex with me?” you wondered aloud as bucky began coughing loudly. “don’t be mean,” you huffed and crossed your arms, figuring he was trying to hide his laugh. “steph said i should get you to ‘pop my cherry’ but i knew you would’t wan-”

“hey, that’s not what i meant,” he stopped your train of thought. 

“so you do wanna ‘pop my cherry’?” you awed at the man as the elevator doors opened. 

“i wan’ you to stop referencing it as ‘popping your cherry’,” he grimaced as he said it himself. 

“you wanna have sex with me? bang? do the deed? take my virginity? make love?”

“stop it,” he groaned as you giggled, leaning into his chest even more. “i wanna have this conversation when your sober, if you even remember it.”

“i’ll remember, my sweet jamie,” you held onto his arm as he walked you to your room, helping you get into bed before going into your bathroom and returning with your bin of skincare. “this is why you’re my sweet jamie,” if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blushing. 

he began using your makeup wipes to remove the remnants of makeup that had survived the night, followed by micellar water to remove the excess remover from your face. you knew he had seen you do your skincare routine after having so many late movie nights with one another, but it was still flattering that he had remembered it all so well. he finished applying your toners, serums, and finally your moisturizer with gentle hands, his metal one providing a nice cold surface that woke your skin up a bit more. it wasn’t until you reached up to grab his flesh hand that he noticed the bruises lacing your arms. 

“god,” he sighed as he looked down at his lap. “i’m so sorry i was too late, doll.”

“you weren’t too late,” you shook your head at his negativity. “you were perfectly on time. you saved me. i don’t-i don’t know what would’ve happened had you not shown up. i-”

“i don’t wanna think about what could’ve happened, please,” he shook his head as he held onto your bruised wrist softly, tenderly rubbing his cool metal hand over the damaged skin before pressing a kiss to it. 

“will you stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, as if you were scared he would say no. as if he would ever tell you no. 

“only if you’re sure,” you nodded eagerly with a grin before he crawled into bed with you. 

bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist as you laid on his chest, breathing in his scent as his soothing heartbeat calmed you down after the nights antics. 

“i’ll remember tomorrow, jamie.”

CHAPTER 2

[dance-in-the-morning-glow]

As someone who is very much into (indie and niche) fragrance and Pirates of the Caribbean, here are my scent picks for some characters absolutely nobody asked for:

Elizabeth Swann: Juliette Has A Gun - Vanilla Vibes (Sea salt, natural vanilla absolute, orchid absolute, absolute brown musk, bezoin absolute, sandalwood, tonka bean)

This is basically just a salty vanilla perfume and I’m all here for it; it’s beachy, light and totally pre-Pirate King Elizabeth.

For more of an indie choice, I’d pick Death & Floral’s “I could never stay long enough on the shore” (sand, salty air, smoke, cold coastline). It’s been a while since I’ve smelled this one but it feels fitting. But tbh, any white floral scent would also fit CotBP Elizabeth - so maybe something like Cloon Keen’s Lá Bealtaine.

Pirate King Elizabeth would absolutely rock something challenging like Beaufort’s Terror & Magnificence (birch tar, black pepper, saffron, incense, tobacco, papyrus, haitian vetiver, myrrh, labdanum, benzoin and pebbles).

Will Turner: Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab - Asleep in the Deep (black plum, sea salt, opium tar accord, labdanum, and indigo benzoin)

Basically the dark and heavy counterpart to Elizabeth’s Vanilla Vibes, truly smells like you’re on the Dutchman in between realms.

Jack Sparrow: For Jack, I feel like anything remotely boozy with rum notes works, but if I had to name one scent, I’d pick Stranger Perfumery’s Cigar Rum (raisin, dried fruits (prune and cherry), rum absolute, mandarin, amber, tobacco, oakwood, vetiver, resins, labdanum absolute, seaweed absolute). Maybe layer that with a dirt single note or Fantôme - Bune (damp subterranean air, nagarmotha, smooth cave walls, davana, a cold marble altar, & glittering green dragon scales) for authenticity lol.

Hector Barbossa: Solstice Scents - Headmaster (Apple, bourbon, oak, cedar, pipe tobacco, applewood, amber, spices)

I just felt like I needed to pick a spicy, woody scent with apple notes in it. But any dark aquatic works too.

James Norrington: I associate James with any light aquatic or clean scents (at least when he’s not in his Scruffington Era), so I’d choose something like Solstice Scent’s Gulf Breeze (Saltwater, sand, seashells, sea oats, rain, ambergris (vegan accord).

Cutler Beckett: Histoires de Parfums - 1740 (bergamot, mugwort, patchouli, coriander, cardamom, cedar, birch, labdanum, leather, vanilla, elemi, helichrysum)

Idk, this is just giving off Cutler Beckett energy. It’s boozy, it’s rich, it’s dramatic.

And somehow The House on Widow’s Hill (brandy, old oak paneling, dusty thick carpets, a thread of incense & a roaring fire in the hearth) by Pulp Fragrance also fits. That one’s basically brandy, smoke and dusty carpets in a bottle. On second thought, that might also work for Papa Swann.

I also feel like a tea scent would suit Beckett, but only if it’s a bit heavier, so maybe something like Gris Charnel by bdk (fig, black tea, cardamom essence, iris absolute, bourbon vetiver, indian sandalwood, tonka bean absolute). …But I haven’t smelled that one in a while too.

Davy Jones: Zoologist - Squid (Pink Pepper, Solar Salicylate, Incense, Black Ink Accord, Salty Accord, Opoponax, Ambergris, Benzoin, Musk)

Pretty self-explanatory. On my skin, it’s very musk-forward though.

Ian Mercer: Beaufort - Tonnerre (smoke, gunpowder, blood, brandy, sea spray and citrus)

…Yeah, I guess that one’s also pretty self-explanatory.

Yup, that’s it. Make of that what you will.

[thewalrusespublicist]

"Tbh I was starting to feel a bit down about my blog and what I was putting out ( the eternal crisis on how to give full answers and opinions without being stupid, boring and annoying lol)"

OMG no way! Your blog is one of the best here! What i love the most is reading the analysis and meta from the users, there's always more information and good takes, and yours are always quite deep and insightful.

I would love if you share your opinions about Stuart as well. I feel like he is obviously more sanctified that he should be since he died young (like that insane quote from his mom saying that Brian told her that Stuart could have been the Beatles' manager, no way lol) and i feel his memory has been used to attack Paul, sometimes in a very unfair way. Like, i don't deny the teenage drama and jealousy that Paul felt about him but he *was* a shitty bass player and the band was Paul's future, he was allowed to criticized him not only for being John's new bestie. I also think John played with them both but i lack of your eloquence so i will love to read your take about it.

Hi anon! And the other anons!

Thank you again and to all the other messages I got, they were extremely sweet and really made my day. :)

From my inbox, it's clear you guys want to know about Stu and his role in the Beatles legacy. Well you asked for it and a novel you shall have. Be warned this might be the longest post I've done so grab like a drink or something.

A few disclaimers: I wish and had intended for this to be more of a deep dive into Stu as a whole person rather than just his relationship with John and Paul. Unfortunately I just didn't have the space to do it. If you want to know more about Stu I would highly recommend @eppysboys' blog which is the source for all things Stu Sutcliffe and where I got a lot of this info. Please check their stuff out. Also, I'm going to be a bit blunter on this than maybe I usually am because this topic has been irritating me for some time. Oh also I’m trying my best to answer a lot of asks in one post so please forgive if I don’t fully answer your specific ask about this!

Stu in a perfect world should be a fandom darling: an exciting cipher, a handsome artistic talent that died way too soon who had a major influence in the early Beatles style. It's like there’s this secret other James Dean looking mf Beatle hidden away to uncover, that's cool and he is cool! The problem is that he’s sort of becomes radioactive to talk about in a normal way due to how he's been portrayed and utilised in some biographies and fandom spaces, particularly those that have been infected by John Lennon aspirational boy bestie syndrome. As those types of spaces cannot seem to exist without tearing down Paul to prop John up as their special lil guy, Stu as John's other best friend has become the ideal heavy object to hit Paul McCartney over the head with. It's like a corrosive element, the minute Stu hits a Beatles bio, the biographer suddenly loses all training in objectivity and source work and starts waxing lyrical about 100 percent reliable never biased or wrong Saint Stu of Hamburg who died for our condom arson sins and that Paul McCartney should feel bad about every day of his life for not worshipping Stu and not accepting his own ‘place’ in life as John's just-some-guy placeholder best friend. I’ve personally seen so many posts and forums where Stu being mentioned leads to a legion of comments about how Paul could never have been Stu (correct both ways) and how John would never have even glanced at Paul for much longer if Stu had been alive. Sidenote: If you seriously think that the musical savant from down the road whom John went on to produce the most prolific song writing partnership in history with couldnt have kept his attention for long then I'm begging you on hands and knees to get your head out of the arse of your John Lennon body pillow and be serious. But anyway…

This boy bestie battle royale approach has in turn lead to a reflex reaction where Stu gets studiously ignored by other sections of the fandom as a precedent has been set that shining a light on him diminishes Paul and John's relationship with Paul. It's frustrating because if people weren't so keen to cut Paul out of his own story then we would get a much better nuanced view of every single person involved.

So let's put aside all of our defenses, cut the John Lennon loved one ranking system bullshit and lets look at the actual question here which is what was John and Stu's relationship really like and what did he mean to John?

John and Stu met at art college a year or so after Paul and John met. Up to that point John and Paul had their fun little codependant thing going on but Stu quickly became a huge fixture in John's life. Stu had things that Paul couldn't really offer at that point in time. John was at his heart a musician who aspired to be seen as an artist (he would later express surprise that he didn't become an artist). Stu was the passionate artist who knew tons about the art of the period that could teach and inspire John. Their creative leanings meant they could work on projects together and share art notebooks and poetry. (Including yes the one with anti-semitic story which I mention again as I believe it's an important thing to remember when it comes to both John and Stu and the culture of the time.) Stuart by the sounds of it was even writing a novel about John at the time of his death. They were fascinated and inspired by each other.

So, creatively they fired each other up but more importantly perhaps, Stu and John were peers. It's funny to think about when you see the Beatles later but at the time Paul and George were the kids in their school uniform coming to see their cool older friend at art school. That's an important divide. When Paul and George's parents insisted their kids do their homework and go to bed, John and Stu could stay up and talk all hours of the night, which they did. They also could rent a place together and spend long hours chatting (despite John moving out later after realising electricity cost money lol.) There's a different dynamic that the age similarity offered as well. Whilst Paul would later somewhat grow into this role, Stu could act as an authority figure to John as well as open up to John in a way you can really only do with your peers. Stu was the person John opened up to throughout Stu's life:

How long can one go on writing and writing like you. I now don’t really know who I’m writing to or why it’s quiet peculiar. I usually write like this and forget about it but if I put it in a little part of my [almost?] secret self in the hands of someone miles away who will wonder what the hell is going on or just pass it off as toilet paper. Anyway I don’t care really what happens because when I think about it, it’s so bloody unimportant – but what is important who has the right to say that this letter is not important and this is a something any way – anyway – anyway – yeah! I wonder what it would be like to be a cretin or something. I bet it’s gear. & how are you keepin Stuart old chap are you as ok – is life as good – bad shite, great – wonderful as it was or is it just a thousand years of nothing and coolness on and on and on. I think this is it Goodbye Stu don’t write out of – er what is it? well not because you think you ought to write when you feel like So goodbye (from John you know the one with glasses) ANYWAY BYE BYE see you soon I don’t know why I said that I remember a time when everyone I loved hated me because I hated them so what so what so fucking what I remember a time when belly buttons were knee high when only shitting was dirty and everything else clean + beautiful I can’t remember anything without a sadness So deep that it hardly becomes known to me so deep that its tears leave me a spectator of my own STUPIDITY + so I go rambling on with a hey nonny nonny nonny no

Extract from a letter to Stuart Sutcliffe from John Lennon, 1961

By lots of accounts Stu was gentle but firm when it came to telling John he'd gone too far. John references this aspect of Stu to Hunter Davies:

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I'd believe him."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

In this way I kind of see Stu as a proto-Yoko. John was so insecure and uncertain about his grip on the world and reality that he relied on Stu to be his point of reference and guide. Paul did this too later and I think in Hunter Davies John mentions this, but not at this time period and not as much due to their competitiveness. This may be why some people saw Stu as the person that really understood John at this time period:

"During the turbulent adolescence that prefaced a turbulent manhood, hardly anyone knew Lennon as intimately as Stuart Sutcliffe. If they weren't exactly David and Jonathan, June Furlong, one of the life models at Liverpool's Regional College of Art, had "never seen two teenagers as close as those two."

The Gospel According To Lennon by Alan Clayson

Now this person likely never met John and Paul together but this is only one of many similar quotes and even Julia captain of John and Paul's friendship boat seems to agree there was a period where Stu dominated and Paul 'kept his distance' from the John-Cyn-Stu 'menage-a-trois'. But the friendship wasn't perfect and his position as John's ultimate best friend was never iron clad. This is best outlined by the shit they pulled when John convinced him to join on Bass for the Beatles.

Despite being John's best friend, Stu was teased and bullied:

"They argued as usual amongst themselves, but most of all they picked on Stu, the newest member of the group. John, George and Paul had been with each other long enough to know that rows and arguments and criticism didn't mean much. If it did, you just argued back. "We were terrible," says John. "We'd tell Stu he couldn't sit with us, or eat with us. We'd tell him to go away, and he did." At one hotel they stayed at, a variety show had just left. There had been a dwarf in the show and they found out which bed he had slept in and said that would have to be Stu's. They certainly weren't going to sleep in it. So Stu had to. "That was how he learned to be with us," says John. "It was all stupid, but that was what we were like."

The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (Hunter Davies)

Why John encouraged this I have no idea, maybe jealousy over Stu's looks and wanting to play people off each other? Things were tense in both Scotland and Hamburg, especially between Stu and Paul. As I said in my last post, the girls were fighting and it was mutual. Paul was mad for both fair and immature teenage-boy reasons. Stu could not be bothered with the bass most of the time and couldn't really play well and was only there as he was '(John's) best friend' (ouch for Paul). Paul conversely had given up higher education to be there and was sending lots of money back home. He also was dating the girl Paul fancied. Stu was popular with the new group and also did mean things like help John steal Paul's money when money was really tight for him. Paul in turn was a passive aggressive, jealous and mean. It all came to ahead in the punch up onstage which according to Spitz came about from Paul wanting money back and saying that Stu could borrow some from Astrid. Stu goes for him and reports vary from full-on bust up to embarrassing scuffle. Stu then goes to where Astrid and Paul's gf Dot are, demands Dot leaves and goes on a rant about Paul. Now all of this must be framed in the context of Stu receiving increasing brain damage from his condition that seemingly lead to mood swings and anger. Nevertheless, the mutual needling and anger, as well as John's refusal to do/say fuck all about it, especially given how protective John was of Stu, suggests that it wasn’t straightforward and/or John may have been playing some games to make both feel threatened. This would also make sense as to why we hear conflicting accounts of John and Stu being the centre of everything and everyone else in orbit AND John and Paul being the centre and everyone else playing catch-up, as well as John giving Paul the lead to take him round the Reeperbahn when John got dressed in the gorilla costume. (I know Paul may have just been the closest there but that always gave off bestie behaviour to me.)

(I did get an ask about how John and Paul's friendship survived it, I think it was damaged by Hamburg. When Paul got back home he got a job at a construction site and there's just a vibe of everything being a bit on tenterhooks. John also acts a bit weird at the period, not talking to anyone for a few weeks then making a lot of weird demands from Paul. I'm really not sure what to make of it.)

Even when he's back in Liverpool, John still writes long letters to Stu and vice-versa. I can't find it at all but I’ve read a really sad interview with John saying he missed his best mate and it's a shame that he's not with them. He had no idea at that point that Stu had already died of a brain hemorrhage at 21.

John is said to have gone into hysterics when he found out Stu had died. A lot of people who've spoken about this time (Aunt Mimi, his sister Julia, the Exsis) concur that at this point Stu was his best friend and the death shattered him. He even told Astrid he wished he could give his life for Stu’s. This is backed up by the fact that John never forgot Stu and his shadow lingered for the rest of John's life:

Stu was recalled in In My Life

Years later, after John composed the first of his truly poignant and heartfelt Beatles songs, "In My Life"—with its lines about "friends I still can recall/some are dead and some are living"—he revealed to me that the two people he had had uppermost in mind were myself and Stuart Sutcliffe. And then he stunned me with a statement that I'd never heard him address to anyone—least of all to another man. "You know, Pete," he said softly, "I do love you. But," he quickly added, "I loved Stuart as well."

Weird that Paul isn't mentioned surely you think that he would be mentioned if Pete was there too okay, okay my tin hat is going away this isn't the time

Pete Shotton, Nicholas Schaffner, John Lennon: In My Life

In 1965 John drew Stu on a postcard

He apparently said this about Stu prior to sending the postcard, prompted by an article about Stuart.

The card had been sent from Genoa mid-way through the Beatles' Italian tour. [...] But the conversation had become maudlin when I reminded him that he was going to talk to me for an article about Stuart. [...] In that sad telephone conversation before they set off for Milan, I asked him if he was happy: 'I'd be a lot happier if Stuart was still part of us,' he said, 'The Beatles would be complete.' And before he rang off he said 'Ill send you something.'

He also appears on the cover of Sgt Pepper

As mentioned, Stu gets mentioned in Hunter Davies in terms of wistfulness and guilt AND he gets a mention in John's insane 'if I were a homosexual' ramblings in early 70s. According to Yoko, John also wanted Yoko to write letters to him and didn't think it would be strange because Stu wrote letters to him.

I have a pet theory that as with a lot of things for John, his unresolved grief over Stu really came to the fore in the late 60s now that he had actually had a chance to sit down and think about things. I believe it was partially why he wanted Yoko to write letters and why he gets mentioned in the early 70s as a collaborator/best friend and not in 1980 where John only gives that credit to Paul and Yoko. I think with the cracks with Paul, John had started to think back on his old friend and guide and what advice he would give.

Stuarts presence is still felt throughout the seventies:

“He told me everything. He loved to talk about Hamburg. There were no secrets. It was the kind of life I never knew…. It meant total freedom. At his side always was Stuart, sweet Stuart. There wasn’t a time in John’s life when he didn’t think about Stuart. He spoke always of his love and respect for Stuart.”

Yoko discussing Stu in When They Were Boys: The True Story of the Beatles’ Rise to the Top by Larry Kane

Coming to grips with his death is also present in Skywriting

SEAN O’HAIRE: What happened to Stuart Cliff? DR. FISCHY: What happened was a full exchange of energy where it was not needed within the expression of your own self or in the energies involved around and about you. We cannot call it a happening. We’ll say it is an awakening, for in that way it has served an expression from the past to the present and to the future to where there shall be more of that incomplete vibration expressed to you in a more fuller understanding.

Skywriting by Word of Mouth, John Lennon

This isn't exhaustive but I think from all this it's pretty clear that John adored Stu, John grieved Stu and kept grieving Stu. Stu had a specific place in his life as a confidant that he tried to recreate with Yoko. At the time of Stu's death, he was John's best friend, probably slightly over Paul. Stuart had been able to be both a friend and paternal presence, a confidant and an artistic collaborator. His presence and loss was one of the foundational points in John's life.

But as we've been asked to play this stupid game and so many bios like to make a hoopla about it, were they at their closest ever as close as John and Paul were at their height?

No.

How do we know? Because John told us so:

" He [Paul] still is the closest friend I've ever had, except for Yoko, so I'm still close to him whatever goes on."

John Lennon to an interviewer, 1971

But Walrus! John just says shit! How do we know he isn't leaving out Stu because the press don't know Stu. Well true John does just say shit but this is at a time where John isn't the most glowing about Paul and he's had no problem mentioning Stu in this time period ('one of my best friends ever' would have made a similar point).

But Walrus again! If John picked Stu over Paul when they were young why wouldn't he be the boy bestie of all time, and why would John say that he was closer to Paul? Well, because of the environment and timings. Stu's death happened near the beginning of John and Paul's major bonding moments. If you look at their personal timeline, Paris, the Nerk twins, and getting signed happened just before Stu died. That's missing the major years of Beatlemania, Key West, LSD, Paul growing more into being John's peer and a load of other huge moments in their lives. It's like how John writes to Cyn in 1962 about wanting the house to themselves and not have Paul around all the time. Would you say because he feels closer to Cyn then that John in his overall lifetime loved Cyn more than Paul? No, because relationships change over time and theirs were no exception. (One thing to consider as well is that we don't yet have many letters between John and Paul during their Beatles years and earlier, probably because they were spending so much time with each other. We know a couple exist that Paul considers too personal for publication but I'm sure there are others. It's easy to understand what John felt for Stu as we have the letters, I think we would also have an easier time understanding what John felt for Paul if we had the equivalent of those.)

At the end of the day Paul was the man he believed he had a psychic bond with, the man he couldn’t shut up about, the man whom he’d conquered the world with with their endless collaboration, the man with a twin personality to him and according to John spent more time with throughout the 60s than he had with Yoko ever. To be frank if Paul had died in 67' I don't think this would have been a conversation.

As mentioned early, in early 1970s John elevates his partnership with Stu to his collaborations with Paul and Yoko but by 1980 he’s pretty clear that Paul and Yoko are their own category.

"I was saying to somebody the other day, “There’s only two artists I’ve ever worked with for more than a one night stand, as it were. That’s Paul McCartney, and Yoko Ono.” And I think that’s a pretty damned good choice!!"

John Lennon interview with DJ Dave Sholin, 1980

There are of course the what ifs. Would Stu still being alive mean that John was not as close with Paul? Maybe, highly doubtful though as the Beatles experience was so intense. If Stu remained a Beatle would John be as close with Paul? If Stu remained a Beatle he wouldn't be Stu so no. At the same time who knows what it would have been like if Paul and John were peers from the off? I said this to @the62ndbugsfan when it comes to Stu vs Paul (hi girl sorry i've made our chat a whole ass post lol) but to go a bit Wuthering Heights, soulmates are made as much from the earth as they are of the stars. What binds us is our experiences just as much as our personalities. There may be a universe where Stu and John took on the art world together or became inseparable bffs again after the Beatles disbanded, but it is not our universe. In this universe Stu tragically died and John and Paul chose to become Lennon/McCartney and artistically unite themselves forever.

Even going back to Stu's lifetime, I've said it before and I'll say it again I find it interesting that not only did John choose to go to Paris with Paul rather than pay to meet up with Stu somewhere but that they arranged to meet up with Juergen and nobody told Stu until they'd already gone. Stu was shocked and didn't know if it meant the end of the Beatles which is a pretty big thing for him not to know about. Why didn't John tell him if they're apparently still writing long letters? Was it because he really wanted to do this with Paul and didn't want to hurt Stu's feelings? And that's really the point I want to make here. Due to his trauma John was preoccupied with reinforcing ranking of relationships within his life. But the thing is friendship rankings are made up guidelines and the reality is far more complicated. You can have a designated best friend but feel closer to another friend at times, you can want to do one thing specifically with one friend and not the other for various reasons. You can (as I do) have more than one equal best friend. Friendship as with most relationships are in a constant state of flux and each friendship you have will give and mean a different thing, even if they are of similar value to you.

Paul may have ended up closer to John than Stu had been, but that doesen't make John's relationship with Stu any less special. Nor does Stu negate the significance of Paul. Whilst both fit into John's pattern of intense relationships and demands related to that, both had unique positions and meaning to him. Considering what I've gone into about John's closeness to Stu, it actually says something deeply, borderline unnervingly, intense about John and Paul that Paul pipped Stu to the post. Maybe it's time Beatles bios accept the fact that John Lennon just wouldn't be into them like that, stop using a tragically prematurely deceased young man as a prop in their jealous psychological warfare against Paul McCartney, stop perpetuating one of the most damaging games that John did to his loved ones and allow both relationships the space to shine and showcase the amazing talent that was the Beatles and those that surrounded them.

[arachine]

— what's going on down there?: a dick analysis

ᥫ᭡ featuring :: jake sully, miles quaritch & norm spellman

ᥫ᭡ includes :: their human forms + avatar forms

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: talking about dicks obviously, explicit sexual content (?), humor lol

ᥫ᭡ note :: if you know anything about arachine, you know i love a good dick analysis. these posts are intended for comedic purposes only, which means they’re not to be taken seriously.

— jake “ima slut you out” sully

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: as we all know, jake’s life on earth was very unfulfilling. he was a man who sacrificed his legs for the fate of the country, only to be disposed of into the unforgiving hands of society, with no way to reap the benefits (or lack thereof) that veterans were promised to receive. and after losing the privilege of mobility, his body changed drastically. he got smaller, his body got weaker, and yet, one thing remained—that dick! jake is a survivor, through and through—his personal motto is: if it ain’t broken, then it’s still working—and boy, he does not disappoint when it comes to the downstairs department. standing tall at 7 inches, is little jake (maybe not so little). when flaccid, his length measures at a solid 5.7 inches. definitely a grower. 

⟳ width: a little bit on the skinnier side, but he knows how to use it and that’s all that matters!

⟳ color: i think for the most part, his shaft definitely matches the rest of his body; though, i can see it maybe being slightly a little more darker at the base, like a very light beige. when he’s flaccid, his tip is a pretty pink, almost like a ballet slipper (aka the best pink). turns into an angry red when fully erect!

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: jake pegs me as the kinda guy who doesn’t really care? i mean, trimming isn’t foreign to him, because he has trimmed it before, and does so when he notices it’s gotten to be too long…but, i don’t think it’s something that he does often. to him, it’s just hair. he’s on his grown man shit, you know? 

02. curved?: uhm, yes! you know that one beyoncé lyric? yeah. 

03. any veins?: absolutely covered in ‘em

04. how he fucks with it: i’d like to think before his accident, he was a doggy style connoisseur—come on, it’s jake we’re talking about here. can’t nobody tell me otherwise! i just know he had bitches bent over, weaves sweated out, makeup all over the pillows…mans was f-u-c-k-i-n-g okay? fuckingggg. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: the masses may attack me, but it’s time i spoke up. the man has a monster schlong. a cooter cat killer, if you will. if you thought his human form was big, shit, you ain’t seen nothing yet! completely flaccid, his cock measures to about 10 inches. when fully hard, he grows an additional three! talk about impressive…

⟳ width: so thick that it basically slaps his thighs when he walks. the man could create a beat with it, get em into the soundcloud business now!

⟳ color: self explanatory tbh, it’s fucking blue. as blue as papa smurf’s ass. 

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: i’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that because he’s an avatar, he grows hair there. even if i’m wrong, i’m right. i don’t give a damn what james cameron says. he’s basically my character at this point, and i will him to have hair damnit! just…the idea of him having a full bush down there, in the wild, all primitive and shit…does something to me. idk. don’t ask me why i’m so nasty, blame my deadbeat father. 

02. curved?: is a banana yellow? there’s your answer. 

03. any veins?: i might have a brain aneurysm just thinking about it, but yes! god, yes. so many…so, so, so many. ribbed for her pleasure or whatever trojan said. 

04. how he fucks with it: is he still the doggy style connoisseur? yes. but now that’s got the strength of 20 men, backshots sound a whole lot like gunshots now. they say every time the mighty toruk makto thrusts into a cunt, a tree falls down or something. so, yes. fucks hard, fucks rough, fucks like he’s on a mission. what’s that one tik tok audio? “rest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service, i dive in her cervix.” yeah, he lives by that. 

— miles “on your knees, cadet!” quaritch

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: just gonna cut right to the chase. he’s huge. like pussy splitting huge. i don’t care what anyone says, you can argue with ya friend, you can argue with ya mother, but you cannot argue with me! coming in at a solid 6 when flaccid, quaritch takes the cake for the biggest cock on this list (at least, human form wise). at full length, he measures to about 7.8 inches! 

‘booooo’ you say, well, guess what? it’s the truth, and i’m just the messenger. whether you hate him or love him, he’s just that guy. 

⟳ width: surprisingly average. but it’s okay, sometimes you can’t have the best of both worlds. 

⟳ color: if my memory serves me right, he was pretty tan in the first movie. so, i’m gonna stick with that and say that it’s a pretty tan that transitions into a pale pink. i don’t know if some of you have seen old dick, but their tips get less saturated with age. it’s a phenomenon (not really, the blood flow to the groin is just a lot slower, which can make it appear kind of gre—anyway, i digress!)

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: this man is a colonel, so he’s all about discipline and keeping things nice and tidy. so, obviously, his hygiene reflects that. i don’t think he goes completely bald, but he does give it a good trim. kind of like a fade…just imagine a patch of grey, prickly hair. yeah. 

02. curved?: yes, and since he’s older, it’s probably curved a lot. you could probably hang something on it. maybe a towel, or a lanyard. it’s definitely useful for something!

03. any veins?: god, i don’t know why, but i have it in my head that he’s on steroids. he’s just so buff and strong, and i mean, yeah, he could just be really fit…but he could also be a self-image obsessed freak who takes drugs to be the perfect soldier. the correlation, you ask? well, i just feel like people who take steroids are really veiny, and i feel like his dick would be really, really veiny. so, thus the rant about steroids. steroid dick. 

04. how he fucks with it: don’t let his age fool you. he may very well be pushing his late fifties, but he’s still a young man at heart—and he’s definitely got the sex drive to prove it! i can see his favorite position being something like missionary. not so much because he enjoys the intimacy of it (like being face to face), but more so because he’s got a size kink—and definitely a dacryphilia kink. he enjoys seeing his partners cry, whether in pain, or in pleasure, or both! so, when you’re fucking him, don’t expect anything romantic. he just wants to see your pretty little face all teary eyed and pathetic. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: so big you can see it from space; that’s how the RDA mfs know they’re close, because they can see the tip protruding from pandora. no, but seriously, it’s still really huge. like maybe 12-14 inches—maximum. 

⟳ width: probably twice as thick as a human’s forearm. and god, it’s sooooo heavy. big breeding balls to match. 

⟳ color: blue blue blue…like wet fun dip. with just as many stripes as the american flag or whatever. 

⟳ extra: 

01. groomed?: yes, but the hair is black instead of grey and it’s probably really straight because na’vi hair is straight as fuck. 

02. curved?: sir, yes sir. 

03. any veins?: what’d i say? steroid dick. but even worse (better) now bc he’s so damn tall, he needs all the blood he can get down there.

04. how he fucks with it: has you in all types of positions. his favorites are anything that shows off his new found strength, so i’m betting on full nelsons and mating presses. just fast, powerful strokes. lives by the motto: can’t stop, won’t stop.

— norm “what’s the sq root of 69?” spellman

. . . human form .*+!

⟳ length: i’m sorry to disappoint the norm fuckers (if there are any), but he’s not that big. when he’s soft, his cock measures to about 4.8 inches, and at most, 6.2 inches when hard. 

⟳ width: skinny dick. 

⟳ color: dawg he’s so white, it’s like hella pale and the tip is so pink that when he’s aroused, it looks like there’s something wrong.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: like jake, i don’t think he really cares.

02. curved?: straight like a pencil

03. any veins?: like two, and they’re really prominent because he’s so fucking pale.

04. how he fucks with it: i don’t think human norm is getting puss, let’s be real. 

. . . avatar form .*+!

⟳ length: i am a firm believer in N.W.B.C—nerds with big cocks. it’s just the universe’s way of saying thank you, they just…they just do so much for us, you know? norm may not have been packing down there in his human form, but this was his second chance at redemption. he’s now a proud member of N.W.B.C, sporting an impressive 15 inches. you know that one scene in the first spider-man when pete’s looking at himself in the mirror and he looks inside his briefs? yeah, that was norm when he found out. the man got so excited, he accidentally catapulted a scientist out of pandora’s atmosphere with the weight of his cock. joking. 

⟳ width: on the skinnier side but still toe curling, nonetheless.

⟳ color: laffy taffy blue, with little (big) blueberry balls.

⟳ extra:

01. groomed?: no, he’s too busy in the lab and getting na’vi puss.

02. curved?: unfortunately no

03. any veins?: more than before, which he was pleasantly surprised to see.

04. how he fucks with it: norm’s got a big dick, but he acts so shy, like he’s scared of it or something. like stop playing boy and drop them drawls, the fuck? anyway, i think norm’s a sub. he pegs me as the type of guy who likes strong women, women who’ll tell him to shut the fuck up (because he talks so much) and eat their pussies. i guess this makes him a munch. yeah, he’s a munch. ice spice actually wrote that song with him in mind!

© arachine 2023

[seriousbrat]

this says a lot about Snape's character development for me. There are many parallels drawn throughout the series between Harry and Snape; obviously, they're very different characters but there are similarities too.

I think here Snape is talking about himself. The teenaged Snape we see in the Pensieve is very much like this- emotional, heart on his sleeve, easily provoked, a definite wallower in sad memories... weak. Adult Snape, though he retains some of these characteristics that do emerge in stressful moments (in PoA we see how angrily he reacts to Sirius's escape, for instance) on the whole is a great deal more thoughtful, reserved, calculating, measured.

I think that Snape at some point had to force himself to become this. I think he actually relates to Harry here, and is giving him advice based on personal experience. In my fic he begins to learn to control his emotions partially out of a desire to protect Lily; he's fully aware that she's his weakness (or really, his strength, viewed a different way) and that openly displaying any sort of emotion towards her at all makes her vulnerable to the likes of Avery and Mulciber, who will have the perfect weapon to get to him if they want to.

Severus doesn't have the advantages of his peers, he's not pureblood, he wasn't born into money. If he wants to join the Death Eaters and rise in their ranks, he needs to be subtle, cunning, careful. he can't afford to be careless and entitled like mulciber or bellatrix or even sirius. what he's got to offer isn't his name or his money, it's his sheer talent and cleverness. moving on:

When Voldemort decides to go after Lily this becomes even more important. Imo the reason why Voldemort believes that Snape only "desired" Lily is because that's what Snape told him. He lied to Voldemort's face and told him something probably disgusting tbh because that's the only way Voldemort would accept it and agree, if it was a selfish, callous request that Voldemort could understand. We can see evidence of this here:

Asking Voldemort to spare a mudblood because he was in love with her would likely not have gone over well- and as we know, Voldemort actually bore his request in mind, though obv didn't give enough of a fuck about Snape to follow through. Because although asking voldemort to spare her must have taken serious balls, Snape's mistake here was trusting someone inherently selfish to do something selfless for him.

Clearly he immediately realises this and goes to Dumbledore, which is when controlling his emotions becomes of paramount importance, because now he's working against perhaps the most highly accomplished legilimens of all time.

It's also interesting to me that Snape in this conversation is probably the character who is most forthright and informative with Harry in the whole of OotP until Dumbledore at the end; Harry actually learns a lot in this conversation. And Snape also kind of gives him credit which is interesting too:

like for Snape that's high praise lmao. A shame because if he wasn't so bitter (i.e. didn't wear his heart on his sleeve so much around harry) then he might have actually been pretty helpful to Harry and a decent teacher. Again, during the Occlumency lessons his unrestrained emotion brought up by memories of James is a hindrance. He defies Dumbledore's orders to teach Harry Occlumency because of his emotional response to SWM, as well as honestly doing kind of a shit job before that (by not being empathetic and teaching Harry in a way that would've been actually productive.)

At this point Dumbledore believes that Harry learning Occlumency and controlling his emotions is of vital importance; he turns out to be wrong about this. In Harry's case, it turns out to be his emotional nature that saves him- unlike Snape, who is the opposite. Snape's journey is about learning that some things are more important than his selfish need to give into his own emotions.

By DH Snape's learned this lesson fully; his old hatred for James doesn't stop him from doing what has to be done, from giving Harry the tools he needs. Even in the final moments of his life, he can look past James and see Lily in Harry- and, by giving Harry the information that leads to his self-sacrifice, he can let her go.

[im-a-wh0r3]

fuck it, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands and write a fic about James Logan ‘Wolverine’ Howlett x reader. I intend to make this a long-ass series, lmk if you’d like that. I’m gonna do it anyway but would like to know if anyone would read it.

I haven’t written anything in like 4 years so it might start a little shitty so bear with me 🙏

Second Chance

Pairing: James Logan Howlett/Wolverine x Mutant!Magneto’s sister!Reader

friends to lovers to strangers to enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers (not all in 1 chapter dw)

Warnings: Historical inaccuracy (I’m not a historian pls 😩), afab!fem!reader, use of y/n, I’m shit at summaries so it’s gonna feel a bit bullet pointy (lmk if there’s more)

Added notes: considering the reader is Magneto’s sister, that would make her Jewish, you obviously don’t have to be Jewish to read this. I myself am not Jewish, however, I put myself very much into this character and I feel Magneto and myself are very similar personality-wise so making him the brother of the character that I have created made sense to me, their mutations are also kinda similar. What Erik went through during the Second World War isn’t mentioned in this because I felt that was incredibly insensitive of me considering I in no way relate to it, but if I do state anything that causes issue please inform me and I will change it. (tbh I tried not to mention the happenings of the war at all because I know very little about it but still, let me know)

Summary: You were only young when the war began. As a young woman in 1939 you could do very little to assist, so you became a nurse. What you didn’t realise was how much tragedy, heartbreak and indescribable desire this choice was going to bring you.

Word Count: 1.4K

Hope you enjoy <3

Nuremberg 1924, Jakob and Edie Eisenhardt had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl, y/n. You were an independent, strong-willed child, never ill, and learning to walk and talk long before others your age. So, when you were four, and your mother gave birth to your little sister Ruth, a sickly child, your mother’s attention was ripped from you, far more concerned with your sister's wellbeing, with her constantly slipping in and out of illness. Your father was also away a lot with work, leaving you to entertain yourself. You were never fazed much, preferring the company of your family dog, Otto, your playful 2-year-old border collie.

Your strange connection to the earth began to show not long after your little sister was born. Not thinking much at the young age of four, of the strange habit animals had of following you, the way the flames in the fireplace would dance whenever you were near, and how the wind would bend around you. Then, two years later, Max was born. He was just like you, strong-willed and stubborn. You adored your little brother, taking him everywhere with you. Walking with his pram with Otto through the fields that surrounded your home.

As you grew, you began to slowly notice not only your oddities but also your brothers. The way he would drop his knife or fork whilst eating dinner, and then command it straight back to his hand, the voice you thought was in your head, speaking to you as if it was- Otto?! Yes, very odd. You brushed it off, knowing that if you were to tell your parents, they would treat you as if you were a silly little child begging for attention. By the time you were fourteen, however, it was far too noticeable to just push aside. The flames began to roar in the fireplace, the voice which you refused to believe was Otto began becoming far too clear, and even the spiders you would remove from your house began to sound as if they were shouting at you. At least your brother had calmed down, with him being eight you supposed his childlike lack of care had faded away. One less problem to deal with.

A year later, the war began. Your father had insisted upon you taking your brother and sister to England with you, where you would be staying with your uncle in the countryside. Ruth came along easily, Max on the other hand refused to leave your mother and father, too afraid to be apart from them. After days of arguments, your parents gave in, allowing just you and your sister to travel to England, ensuring that Max would be safe with them. The following day, your bags were packed and you were ready to part from the only home you had ever known. You said your goodbyes and reluctantly waved your home farewell.

“Promise me they’ll be okay” Ruth pleaded, snapping you away from your train of thought.

“They’ll be alright Ruthie” you gave her a half smile, only half believing your own words. “Mother and father promised, remember?” you continued.

She gave a curt nod, continuing the silence.

Your life in England was different, to say the least. Your uncle Erich was a stoic man, never caring much for children, though you and your sister tried to do your best by him as thanks. At the age of 16, you left high school and began a nursing training program, in hopes of aiding those fighting in the war.

The three years were gruelling. The war had disrupted your schooling, having to break during your travels, leaving you behind the other trainees. You refused to let that hinder your progress, you feared for your family every day, the least you could do was help those who could be helped. As awful as the past three years had been, you made it through your training, and eventually, on the 10th of June 1944, you arrived in Normandy, to assist your wounded troops.

The medical tents are awful, to say the least. They’re cramped, sweaty and reek of... men. You make your way to the end of the tent and are greeted by a tall, tanned, gorgeous man. He seems unscathed, lying comfortably in one of the beds.

“Hey there soldier” you greet him. His deep brown eyes meeting yours. “Anything I can do for you?” you continue, eyeing him over once more.

“You tell me bub” his Canadian accent catches you off guard. “They sent me in here, told ‘em I was fine” There’s a slight humorous tone to his voice.

“I’ve seen all the bloodshed out there” you counter. “You trying to tell me you went through all that with not even a scratch to show for it?” he grins.

“Guess I’m just indestructible” he shrugs.

“Or just very lucky” you argue. “Well, if you’re completely fine I’d appreciate it if you could leave the space for someone who needs it” you give him a tight smile, not exactly wanting the beautiful stranger to leave, but needing to put your job first.

“I don’t see anyone out there waiting” he retorts. “James Howlett” offering you his hand.

“Y/n” you ignore his outstretched arm, staring quizzically at him.

“Well, Miss y/n” he stands. “It was a pleasure. I hope to be seeing you again” he grins at you once more and begins making his exit.

“I hope not” you shout to him, in hopes he can hear you, smiling quietly to yourself.

You continued your work for the next few days, aiding men with injuries far worse than you had seen before. Then, after the few days that followed, the stranger that you now knew as James, was back in your care once again, and just like the last time, you discharged him. It became routine, every few days, you would find James lying in one of your beds, completely unharmed. You would discharge him after a quick checkup, and then a few days later you’d find him lying there yet again, like clockwork. You began to form a friendship with the impenetrable soldier, dismissing his flirtatious remarks with witty underhand comments. The banter between the two of you came easily, taking jabs at one another constantly, and having conversations that came with no struggle. This continued for weeks, his visits becoming more frequent, your conversations once full of banter, now riddled with flirtation.

“Oh c’mon bub” his deep Canadian voice implored you. “You not even gonna check me over? I could be dying” he smirked.

you raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Oh yeah? Where are you wounded sweetheart?” you encouraged. “Here?” you placed a flat hand over his bare chest, slowly dragging it down.

“No.” he stopped you, your heart began to race, redness adorning your cheeks. Had you taken it a step too far, had you read his signals wrong, was he just- the clearing of his throat willed you back from your thoughts.

“Right here” he pointed his finger to his lips. “Heard kissing it better helps” that cocky smirk meeting you once again. He offered you his hand, this time not ignoring it, you outstretched yours. His fingers barely grazed yours, hand slowly rising to your wrist. He grabbed it lightly, giving you time to pull away, when you didn’t, he gave a sharp tug, causing you to topple into him. His eyes locked with yours, a feeling so familiar, and yet in this instance, so foreign. His hand, now placed on your lower back, moving slowly to cup the back of your head, the other grasping your waist. Your hands were firmly placed on either side of his head, unable to move in fear of falling. He slowly pulled himself up, your faces much closer than before. He waited, giving you one last chance to pull away, you didn’t, holding his gaze unwavering. You could feel his breath fanning your face, his stubble tickling your skin.

The kiss was soft. Far from rushed.

He held you gently, as if you were fragile, ready to break at any moment. The kiss didn’t last long, the sounds of the other patients snapping you both back to reality.

“You should go” you whisper into his lips, unable to now meet his gaze.

“I suppose I should” he agrees, grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. You stare once again into his brown eyes, the closeness allowing you to see the green specs that litter his irises. “Till next time, yeah sweetheart?” he gives me one last kiss before making his exit.

“Next time.”