#what other takes on fuckery are out there

[arolesbianism]

Thinks abt comic Siffrin. This could be a playground I think. If I felt like it. If I so chose.

[uswe]

Not sure if I am broken by dint of burnout or grad school or overwork or disability. I would like to create again. But my notes document with fic ideas has been untouched since my performance review and realizing I need to publish more papers.

Probably a therapist would help? But a dentist is more urgent. Also nagging the plumber.

[mosquitinho]

went through the (by far) worst 2 weeks of my life but im still getting out of bed and trying to do things. Rare mental health win

[falinscloaca]

cat hacker reintroduces mspec lesbian discourse into my life my brain obliterates itself in ocd-fueled recursive self-argumentation

[gameofthronedd]

One thing I can appreciate about HOTD is how much emphasis is placed on "perception". The way things are shot, events happening off-screen, relationships being ambiguous, subtle details etc. One of the reasons I love the ASOIAF universe is GRRM's focus on perception and ambiguities and how the truth isn't always what it seems. HOTD does a good job of creating that sense of murkiness.

Also the way it plays with our own perceptions of characters. If you like a character, you may view a scene a different way to how someone who dislikes that character views the scene. It also kind of reflects how Fire and Blood is a retelling of events and how there are a variety of different recounts and perceptions of the events that take place.

For example, we never see whether Daemon actually kisses Rhaenyra during the dance in Episode 5. We never see what triggers Criston to beat Joffrey to a pulp, as another example.

I really like how the show plays with our own beliefs and perceptions and opinions of the characters. It poses a lot of situations that are up for interpretation by the viewer, which is why I think it's so easy for us as fans to get into debates and arguments. Because the actual content is polarising and doesn't always have a clear answer. The actual content is down to our own perceptions and interpretations of the events and inner thoughts and mindsets of the characters.

[toytulini]

me: doing water changes to bring the nitrates in my tank down

the water i was using for my water changes, apparently:

[drop-dead-dropout]

and even then, that won't help if you're institutionalized as a minor.

You wanna actually help institutionalized mentally ill people? Get them legal help. Post their rights on the walls. Give them access to phones and lawyers. “My small business sells cutsie scrubs for inpatients!!!” literally nobody cares what they are wearing in the fucking hospital but you Becca. shut the fuck up

[andypantsx3]

IF YOU LET ME : TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Disguised as a eunuch in the imperial palace, a mistake on your part leads to your unmasking before the prince. By rights it should mean your death, but Prince Shouto seems to have another plan in mind... CONTENT: Imperial Prince Shouto, AFAB fem reader, identity reveal, class differences, slight gender fuckery, historical sexism, implications of past sexual threats, vaguely imperial Japanese setting, deep historical inaccuracy, SFW (2.2k) NOTES: This was a barely-edited unplanned little thought demon I had to exorcise lol, thank you for being patient with me. Back to our regularly scheduled programming soon.

Your breast bindings were missing.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You flipped your sleeping mat again, clawing through your blankets frantically, hoping you’d somehow missed them the first time. But only the tatami floor stared back up at you—strands of woven rice straw pale and bare.

You muttered a curse under your breath—you’d definitely forgotten to extract your bindings from where you’d shucked off yesterday’s robes, forgotten to squirrel them away before sinking into bed. And now they’d been whisked away by a palace maid to be laundered. Or worse, discovered.

Your eyes darted through your small sleeping chamber frantically, seeking a solution. You were already late for Prince Shouto’s first lesson of the day, and you needed all the time you could get with him today. You’d promised the Minister of Rites that you’d have a word with the prince, to try to persuade Shouto to accept the wife he was so persistently putting his advisors off on.

You were, after all, the prince’s closest confidant—his personal secretary and calligraphy tutor, an unthreatening eunuch from the lower classes with whom Shouto was clearly most at ease. And at least most of that was true—you did have Prince Shouto’s trust, friendship, and respect, as much as a member of the imperial family could bestow on a commoner, anyway.

If he was going to listen to anyone on the subject of taking a wife—at the very least one concubine, if not his future empress—it would be his trusted friend the eunuch.

There was just one very important detail that everyone, even His Highness, was mistaken about on that account.

One blasted detail that could get you killed at best were anyone to figure it out.

Your eyes fell back to your blankets, and you immediately grabbed two fistfuls, yanking as hard as you could until you felt the fabric give, the rip and tear echoing in the small space of your sleeping chamber. You kept ripping until a strip came free, a little smaller than what you usually had to work with.

But you were not about to complain, not at a time like this.

You flung the strip down to scrabble with the tie of your underrobe, unknotting it with fumbling fingers. You were just about to fling it off of you when there was a careful knock against the screen of your door.

You didn’t manage to stifle your reflexive scream, stumbling through a half-executed turn towards the door. The screen was suddenly thrown back with alarming force, Prince Shouto’s figure filling the doorway.

You yanked your shirt closed again, panicking, as you caught sight of the concern on his handsome face. You barely registered the other details, mind tripping over excuses, unable to appreciate the way his shoulders looked all the broader in his sokutai the way you normally did.

“Are you well?” Shouto demanded, his normally soft tone a little ragged. You watched his mismatched eyes dart quickly around your chambers, as if seeking a threat, only to drop back to you when there was none.

“Your Highness,” you said, lost for anything else.

“I heard—there was a scream,” he said, his eyebrows scrunching the tiniest bit.

He always looked his most beautiful when he was confused, you thought, focusing hard on a particular problem. Not that a common woman had any business thinking anything about the crown prince, never mind a woman masquerading as a man. But it was hard to ignore a face that beautiful, the way his gaze sharpened with focus, full mouth pursing as he thought through a problem.

He looked like that now as his gaze darted over you. And then suddenly his eyes dipped to your collarbone, and his features went perfectly, horribly still.

An elegant hand reached back, and he immediately drew the screen closed behind him, eyes never leaving you as he took another step into the room.

You stumbled back, almost tripping over your bedding. You did not dare to turn towards him or away, scuttling sideways instead like a nervous crab.

“Your Highness,” you began again, heart shooting into your mouth when Shouto’s long fingers tangled in your undershirt.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone softening. You gripped your shirt closed as hard as you could against the tug of his fingers. “Did something happen?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered, not liking the way it made him clearly more suspicious. “I was just changing.”

But Shouto’s beautiful, cursed eyes dipped to your bedding, where the torn strip lay across your blankets in plain sight. You could almost see the calculation as his eyes widened the tiniest fraction, and his grip tightened on your robes. Of course he’d seen it, and of course it looked like a wound dressing you’d just been about to apply.

He took another step closer, too close, until you could feel the heat of him through your sleeve, smell the sweet blend of dried herbs the servants kept his clothing stored with.

You tried to twist out of Shouto’s grip without rucking up your shirt, but his hold was too strong.

“Let me see,” he ordered in his soft, low tone. Your heartbeat kicked up higher, hammering in your chest so hard it could have broken a rib.

It was a death sentence to ignore an order from a member of the imperial family. It was also a death sentence to reveal what you’d been these many years. You hoped Prince Shouto, something of a friend to you, would let you off lightly for ignoring him.

“Please, Your Highness,” you said, clinging even harder to the closure of your shirt. “I will be ready in just a moment, I am simply running late. I beg your forgiveness.”

But if there was one thing about the crown prince, it was that he was stubborn, bullheaded when it came to the ideas and goals he took seriously. And he had always made it clear he took your friendship seriously.

That perfect mouth shifted into a frown. “I order you to let me see,” he said, his tone still soft but firm. “You will let me.”

You froze under his hands, muscles locking up in panic. Shouto was still between you and the door, and your chambers were not wide enough for you to slip around him without him being able to easily catch you. He was also, unfortunately, extremely quick with sharp reflexes honed by years of swordsmanship. There would be no escaping this situation.

Fuck. Fuck, you were out of ideas.

“Hold still,” Shouto commanded gently, long fingers prying your stiff ones away from the shirt ties. You watched his face in mute panic, not wanting to see the flash of betrayal and disgust, but unable to look away as he prised your robes aside. Shame heated your cheeks.

Shouto’s long eyelashes dipped, before his gaze froze on your chest. For a second, he went as stiff as you. Then he was yanking your robes closed again, a watercolor of pink washing across the bridge of his nose and those high cheekbones.

His eyes darted back to yours, his expression perfectly still though his face was flushed. “You never told me,” he said accusingly.

The right thing to do in this situation was to go to your knees in a kowtow and beg for his mercy, but Shouto still had a grip on your robes and did not look like he meant to let go. You ducked your head in as much of a bow as you could manage, your face warm. “Your Highness, I have no excuse. I have betrayed you.”

When you had concocted this scheme, you had wanted to put yourself beyond the reach of a local official back in your home village. His advances were becoming increasingly aggressive, and as a common woman, you had no recourse. You could only escape into a place where his rule was circumvented by a superior one, where no man would think to have an interest in you.

You had not intended to become Prince Shouto’s tutor, had not anticipated the true risk of your gambit until it was already too late. But you would still rather die than be returned into the hands of your village’s preceptor.

If this is how it ended…

“I have compromised you,” Shouto’s voice startled you out of your memories.

You glanced up at him, befuddled.

Shouto’s fingers twisted in your robes. “Just now, and—all the many times we have been alone until now. I did not know.”

Honor and compromise were the least of your concerns right now, and would matter even less in the event of your death. You did not know where the prince meant to go with this.

“Your Highness, you were not expected to know,” you said, shame coiling in your belly. You would make the same choices you had made over again, if given the chance, but you had never meant to betray Shouto. You had genuinely liked him, and you would regret losing the chance to be by his side in the years to come.

Shouto’s eyes flicked over you in some kind of assessment. He lifted one hand from your shirt, gasping your scholar’s cap and tugging it free from your hair. You felt his fingers tangle so very gently in the strands of your hair, seeking out the ties and pins.

Your own eyes traced over him as he did, drinking in the firm planes of his chest in his sokutai, the dark blue a beautiful contrast with his pale skin. You heard pins dropping to the ground beside you, as Shouto rubbed a strand of your hair between his fingers. He seemed to be evaluating you in a new light, relearning your appearance though a clearer lens.

Disgust and betrayal were not evident in how delicately he was handling you. You did not know what this meant.

“They will put you to death if they know,” Shouto said, eyes slowly moving from the hair between his fingers to your face again. “You cannot hide like this forever.”

You did not know what other choice was to be had. If Shouto did not plan to put you to death himself, then what other choice did you have than to go on pretending?

Shouto’s gaze dropped to your mouth and you realized you’d spoken the thought aloud.

“There is one other way to put you beyond the reach of the court,” he said slowly.

You felt your eyebrows raise in question. “I cannot think of it, Your Highness.”

Shouto absently curled the strand of your hair about his fingers, the little crease between his perfect eyebrows appearing again. He looked the way he did when he played games with his strategy tutor, or when he was thinking hard on a new sword form.

“The ministers wish for me to take a wife,” Shouto said softly. “My household is mine to manage alone.”

Outside the laws of the court, he meant. A strange flutter went through you, heat spotting your cheeks again. Shouto’s presence before you was suddenly magnified a hundred fold, and you became singularly aware of the breadth and height of him, the heat of him almost against you.

“You do not want a wife,” you said, well aware of the many years he’d spent bullheadedly resisting the idea.

“I do not want any the ministers have selected for me,” Shouto corrected.

Your whole body felt flushed again. He meant he was amenable to you.

You had never let yourself think it but he was more than amenable to you as well.

“I would keep you safe,” he promised.

You almost slumped to the floor in relief, only Shouto’s grip on you keeping you upright. You would not die. You would not be returned to your village. You would, through all of this, it seemed, keep Shouto’s friendship.

“I know you would,” you said.

Shouto understood your acceptance. Slowly his fingers untwined themselves from your hair, and he drew your robes more firmly around you. Your body burned hot, still, stomach fluttering under his renewed brand of regard.

“I will arrange it quickly,” Shouto said. “You must stay here. I will send someone for you.”

You nodded.

Shouto looked regretful as he stepped back from you. “We will do it properly, later,” he said. “I will pay my respects to your family.”

You waved a hand frantically, shocked by the idea of the future emperor making his bows in your family’s rundown hut. It was not as though you would be his first-ranked wife or empress! He did not need to pay any respects to the family of a concubine out of a common family!

“There is no need,” you insisted, but Shouto was already turning towards the door. You could see by the set of his shoulders this was another thing he meant to be stubborn about.

“I will honor my first and only wife,” he said, turning to pin you with that heterochromatic gaze.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, but you had no time to reply before he was sliding the door closed behind him again, leaving you alone with the sudden weight of the statement. It had all happened so quickly, you had never expected that Shouto meant what he did.

You wondered what it meant that Shouto had made such a promise so readily, when he had known the truth about you for only minutes.

And you wondered if, like your original entry into the palace, you were getting yourself into something far beyond what you initially understood.

[kennahjune]

Having thoughts of The Party being touchy as all fuck after everything.

Like you cannot enter nor leave any kind of hang out without a hug, high-five, pat, or anything from everyone you were hanging out with.

And then, suddenly, you aren’t able to leave without a kiss or hug of some kind from Steve.

It started after the bullshit that was the Starcourt Mall. The kids were leaving Steve’s house from a DnD session maybe 2 months before the Byers left for Cali.

Dustin was taking forever to pull his shoes on and get out the house to his moms car and everyone was complaining. It was one of those rare times where Steve wasn’t the one carting them all around— they all had their own rides.

Dustin got his shoes on and Steve handed him his bag and— without thinking— pressed a kiss to the top of his hat before waving him out the door.

The rest of the kids are silent until Mike speaks up bitchily “what about us, asshole?”

Steve has no idea what they mean until El points to her head with a grin. Steve deals out head and forehead kisses for everyone and waves them off to their respective rides.

And then it just— sticks. At first it’s with just the kids whenever he sees them. He’ll usually greet them with a hug or an exasperated sigh and then say goodbye with a kiss to their foreheads.

Not even Mike complains. This is the kind of shit he never got while growing up— might as well make the best of it.

And then it migrates to Robin as well, and the Nancy is joining in on the hugs (they’re still too awkward for the kisses but the hugs are enough for now).

And Steve never holds back, not even in public. Again, no one complains.

And that’s how Hellfire finds out about the kissing arrangement (that might be the title of this if I make it an actual fic). They watch as Steve presses a forehead kiss to Mike, Lucas, and Dustin before waving them off and then presses a kiss to Max’s head and giving her a tight hug.

The guys try to make fun of the kids for it but none of them are embarrassed.

“It’s Steve, dude. He’s like a mom.”

“The kisses are actually really comforting.”

“It’s a Party thing.”

And then the fuckery of 1986 and Vecna happens and suddenly Eddie’s in on the hugs and pats and high-fives.

And then.

And then.

He’s in on the kisses.

Steve doles out the kisses like usual one night after Hellfire and gives one to everyone— including Eddie.

And Eddie panics and gives Steve one right back.

And then the kids are going feral about wanting to give Steve a kiss too.

And Eddie leaves during the chaos.

And then they don’t talk about it.

Until Steve and Eddie do it again.

And the kids accept is as the new normal; you have to give Steve a kiss back.

And then Steve and Eddie have an excuse to kiss each other on the foreheads and cheeks and noses.

One night they’re hanging out, just the two of them at the trailer after Wayne left for work.

Steve had greeted Eddie with a tight hug the moment he’d gotten in the trailer. Eddie had squeezed back just as tight if not tighter.

Steve was getting ready to leave, and on instinct leant in to kiss Eddie, but Eddie was also leaning in to kiss Steve. So they meet in the middle and accidentally kiss on the lips.

And then the new normal for Steve and Eddie is kissing on the lips goodbye.

Idk, just Steve being a very touchy feely person makes me so happy

[forsworned]

Random shower thought:

What if you and Johnny were so close that it actually perplexes the 141. Like when you two share clothes and food, platonically cuddle up under blankets, and use each other's chapsticks because it's all the same to you guys, but they kinda leave you be about it.

So it's almost not even that shocking when you walk into the shower after Johnny finishes up. He's clad in his towel, barely hanging off his hips, combing out his mohawk and your eyes go straight to his Manscape electric shaver.

Your eyes drift to his happy trail. "You mind if I helped you with manscaping?"

Johnny cocks a brow and looks at you through the mirror, amusement written all over his features down to that Cheshire-like smile. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, you trust me?" You pick up the shaver and examine it, and then glance over at him.

"With my life."

"So?"

He unravels his towel and--

"Gol-ly! You are one hairy sonuvabitch!" You chuckle, taking a gander at his junk that seems to be lost in the 'bushel'. "I mean I knew you were hairy but dayum!"

"A'right! Ye said ye'd do it!!" He laughs, pulling up the washroom stool. You sit and get to work, both of you forgetting that the bathroom door is open. Of course, Simon is the first to pass by. He's not too surprised to hear the sound of an electric shaver while the washroom door is ajar in a male-dominated space. Hell, even you have your moments.

But he literally chokes on his ale when he sees what you two are up to.

"Bloody hell, you two." He grumbles, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Hey there, L.t." Johnny toasts his water bottle at him before taking a swig himself.

Your head is the only thing saving Simon's eyes from seeing Johnny's junk and he's thankful for that.

"What's the matter?" Price's voice pipes up as he comes in the front door with Kyle, both holding bags of groceries. Simon doesn't say a word, causing Kyle and Price to share a look.

You simply shrug and go back to what you were doing. Curiosity gets the best of them and they get gander at what activity you two are engaging in.

"Jesus Christ." Price groans, trekking to the kitchen wanting absolutely no part in your shenanigans.

"Havin' fun there, y/n?" Kyle laughs, stuffing a opened bag of chips into his mouth.

You turn to him with a smile, "you see it's quite a hairy situation."

Simon and Price audibly groan while the rest of you share a laugh. Add that to the list of fuckery that goes on under the 141 household

[evilminji]

You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?

Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.

Wouldn't you want to share it?

There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.

And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.

People hear about it.

Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.

But like?

Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.

Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.

Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.

It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.

So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*

So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-

YES!

Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-

Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.

Wasn't much of a question, was it?

So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?

You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.

Or BAD ones.

He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.

Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.

And nerdy.

Very, very nerdy.

But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.

Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.

Just feed me, kid.

Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"

..............how magic?

(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[misaamoure]

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“Fuck you… mmph!”

Sylus chuckled lowly at you attempting to muffle your voice.

It always started with a little bit of an argument.

It’s not that you two didn’t get along; it’s just that you didn’t always get along. Arguably because of him.

For whatever fucking reason, Sylus loved to tease you and get under your skin.

Whether this be by stealing the glasses right off your face and holding them high above your head, even going as far as to suspend them in air with his evol, or generally just poking and prodding at you verbally until you snapped; he got an odd kick out of pissing you off.

And then turning around and acting as if you were the unreasonable one.

You often pondered what his redeemable traits were, if he had any. Nonetheless you made a deal, and it would hurt your pride not to fulfill it.

Annoying as he was, he was stupidly handsome, and his deep voice and tantalizing stature sent chills down your spine.

Sometimes you liked it when he bullied you. Just a little bit… not a lot.

Especially when it progressed on to a charged type of banter.

“Watch your mouth, kitten.” He’d pretend to warn you ever so sternly. As if his cock wasn’t aching in his pants at your defiance.

He found you so hot when you got like this.

“Or what, Sylus? What are you gonna do?” And you’d egg him on every single time.

Then he’d get up, walk over to you, grab your neck and slam you into the wall behind you.

He’d grip the sides of your neck harshly and force you to look up at him, which made your glasses shift.

“You’re aching for it that bad, huh? Maybe you’re useless at seducing me, because this seems to be the only way you know how to get me to fuck you.”

You looked up at a him with hooded eyes, your hands gripping arm he was using to choke you.

Sylus wasn’t oblivious to how you were trying to hide how pleased you were with yourself.

He knew you loved it as much as him. Riling each other up like this. Matching each others energy.

“Fucking hell,” He threw his head back, feeling his cock throb at just the look you were giving him. “Open.”

You did exactly as he said, not breaking eye contact as you opened your mouth for him.

Sylus wasted no time in moving the hand around your neck and running his thumb over your lips and tongue before spitting in your mouth.

“Swallow.”

You did exactly as he said, not missing the glint in his eye and the palpable bulge in his pants as he watched you.

“Say you liked it.”

“I liked it, Sylus. Please give me more.”

“You’re such a dirty little bitch.” He put his hand over his face, trying to hide his smile.

Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at how much he was clearly enjoying this and how you were enjoying playing into him, you take the hand he put over his face and move it to the back of your head as you get on your knees.

You couldn’t mistake how wet you were, annoying and hurtful to your pride as it was.

This dynamic was so invigorating, and you were so attracted to him.

Once again not breaking eye contact, you licked the expanse of his hard on through his black slacks, sending a shiver down his spine.

“That’s a good girl. Keep going, just like that.” He breathed out.

Unbuttoning his pants, you made quick work of taking his cock out.

That was another thing about him… his size was annoyingly impressive.

His dick was thick and lengthy, and he knew exactly how to use it. That’s why you even bothered entertaining his fuckery in the first place.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?”

You hummed, more eager to have his dick inside of you than anything.

“I think I want to fuck you first,” He quickly reached down and grabbed your arm, pulling you up. “Turn around.”

It was times like this you were sure Sylus had a sixth sense for you and your desires.

You once again did exactly as you were told, making quick work of your mini skirt and the panties you were wearing underneath.

Pulling your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side, you reached back between your legs for his cock, making him chuckle.

“So eager,” He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, making you moan lightly. “You want it that bad?”

You huffed. Your attitude returning due to him fucking around again.

“Sylus for fucks sake,” You whipped your head around to look at him, staring at him pointedly. “Get the fuck on with it already!”

“You were so nice earlier,” He began to push the tip inside you before pulling out, teasing you as he loves to do. “I’m starting to think you don’t like me anymore.”

“Sylus-”

“Alright alright I’ll give you what you want.”

He finally pushed his entire cock into you, making your jaw drop.

Fuck it was so big. It was like he was in your guts.

“Oh… my god…” You whimpered, feeling your knees buckle.

Grabbing you by the waist, Sylus held you up.

“Easy there sweetie,” You practically could hear the smirk in his voice. “We barely started.”

“Shut up…!”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it, look how tough you were trying to act like his dick wasn’t making your knees weak.

He leaned forward, lips grazing your ear as he spoke, “Allow me to help you out.”

Taking both your hands in his, he bent you forward, pulling your arms up behind you and holding your wrists together with one hand.

You moaned at how deep he was in you in this position.

“Like that?” He ground his dick into you lightly, making you gasp. “Is that good?”

“Yesss Sylus,” You moaned out. “So good!”

That’s all it took for him to start fucking you in earnest.

Moans spilled from your lips with every thrust uncontrollably, the pleasure of him pounding into you was undeniable.

“So fucking tight, my god.” Sylus threw his head back and groaned.

He was just as loud in bed as you, he truly had no shame in his game in any aspect.

“You’re such a fucking slut you know that?” He grunted through clenched teeth.

“Yes… right there!” You practically screamed as he slammed right into your g-spot.

“Here?” He started fucking you even harder, aiming for that spot in specific.

Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as your eyes rolled back.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer his question.

The pleasure make your clench down on him desperately, making him groan loudly.

“Keep doing that and you’ll make me cum.”

“Inside.” You babbled mindlessly, trying desperately to get your words out.

“What was that?” He smirked, using your arms as leverage to pull you back into his thrusts. “Couldn’t understand you.”

“Need you… to cum inside… Sylus!”

“Hm?”

You felt your orgasm impending as he continued to fuck into that one spot that made your vision go white.

You knew you weren’t gonna last much longer.

“Please please cum inside me!”

Sylus knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. Picking up the pace of his brutal thrusts, he felt that familiar knot in his abdomen tightening.

“Cumming… I’m cumming!”

He barely had time to respond before you were cumming all over his cock, squeezing him even tighter than before.

“Fuck…”

He felt your spend dripping down his balls every time he thrusted back into you.

Feeling his own orgasm quickly approaching, he thrust deep inside of you.

Moaning right in your ear, he came deep inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and throb with every spurt of thick cum.

It was so utterly satisfying to the both of you.

Sylus observed the milky white ring around his cock and he weakly thrust in and out of you, riding out his orgasm.

A content silence fell over the both of you.

That is, of course, until Sylus decided to ruin it.

“You’re so much cuter when you’re quiet, sweetie.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi Shinazugawa falling hard for his polar opposite but is too subborn to confess until he does

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Sanemi was never the type of guy who falls for something stupid as love. Especially not when it comes to his polar opposite, especially not with such a kind and gentle girl like you... Right?

Warnings: this is pure fluff y'all, reader and Sanemi being innocent babies, a tiny bit enemies to lovers

Thank you soo much for that cute request @blunderland, I just knew I had to write that asap hehe. Let me know what you think <3

There you stand with your stupid perfect face and smile so gentle that you could tame a demon with it. With worried expression, you bend over the little demon girl and inspect her wounds carefully.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon”, you speak out while caressing her dark hair.

What a poor girl she is. And her brother…Your eyes drift towards the boy with the beat-up face. What he had to endure is truly unfair, too much to bear for a single person. He really lost his whole family apart from that one sister who got turned into a demon.

And now he’s fighting for the demon slayer corps.

“I admire you.”

Tanjiro Kamado’s eyes widen in utter surprise.

“There’s no need to admire me. Actually, I’m the one who’s looking up to you. You’re the first person who didn’t judge my sister because she’s a demon.”

“Demons were once humans too”, you explain briefly while gracefully getting up.

“And I refuse to see them as anything else until they prove the opposite.”

“What kind of fuckery is this, (y/n)?”, an oh so familiar voice barks at you from behind.

Sanemi Shinazugawa really seems like a man with a heart made out of solid ice with his hateful orbs gleaming at Tanjiro and his sister.

“Don’t you think they proved themselves more than enough, Sanemi? If Kagaya-sama agreed on allowing Nezuko Kamado to live and her brother to continue fighting for the demon slayer corps, there is nothing to question for us hashira.”

“Don’t touch that demon brat so casually”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your wrist tightly.

Your heart skips a beat when his bare skin touches yours. How ridiculous it is that you developed feelings for him. Out of all the other hashira, it was always Sanemi Shinazugawa before everyone else. Those rare moments of tenderness he shows from time to time, the way he worries about his comrades without expressing his true feelings to the world. His closed like a treasure, so gorgeous that you can’t take your eyes off him.

“That isn’t a very nice way to talk to our guests, Sanemi”, you reply softly.

Urgh. He can’t fucking stand you with that scolding expression on your face, how your other hand still rests on top of the head of that demon brat. Why do you have to be so sickening kind to everyone you meet? Why are you even a part of the demon slayer corps with that strange attitude of yours?

“Guests? Are you talking about those intruders? If it was for me, I’d rip both of your heads off without blinking-“

“Sanemi.”

Before he’s able to react any further, he finds his own face framed by your much smaller hands and eyes focused onto his so intensely that he feels his cheeks heat up in an instant.

Why…Why is he suddenly feeling so hot? He should slap your hands away, should show you your place-

“Trust me, I understand your anger. But they are innocent until they prove themselves guilty.”

Those calm eyes who never lose their composure, the eyes he threatened to get lost in countless times already. Why do you have to be so damn gorgeous?

Gorgeous? He furrows his eyebrows, body yanking away from yours instantly. There’s nothing gorgeous about someone like you.

“If you really think that you’re a fool”, he bites back before turning on his heels and storming away.

What the hell was he even thinking? You, gorgeous…Just because your eyes seem to sparkle in the sunlight or the way your hair looks like liquid silk when a ray of light hits it perfectly. Or maybe because of the way your uniform hugs you so well, because of your strength. Or is it the way you look at him?

Sanemi shakes his head vehemently. That’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re the complete opposite of him. How could he ever like you?

“I think Shinazugawa-san likes you, (y/n)!”, Mitsuri babbles out while making her way back with you.

“Really? It definitely didn’t look that way”, you reply with low voice.

Oh, how much you’d hope that someday, the wind hashira actually likes you back. Even though both of you are polar opposites, even though you might never be on same terms. You still somehow managed to fall hard for him.

“Don’t give up hope, (y/n)! I definitely caught the way he looked at you earlier!”

You smile at the girl next to you gently, how she starts analyzing every minor detail of your confrontation earlier on. Mitsuri always swore that there is chemistry between both of you.

“And I’m never wrong when it comes to love, you can trust me (y/n)!”

“You’re a fool for treating (y/n) like trash, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly while letting his feet dangle from the tree he’s resting on.

“What are you even talking about, huh? It’s none of your business how I’m talking to her anyway.”

“(y/n) truly has a tender and kind soul. What a shame it is you hurt her like that”, Gyomei adds, tears streaming down his face in waterfalls again.

“Are you too dumb to realize she has feelings for you?”, Obanai continues.

You? Feelings for him? He huffs out loud. Absolutely ridiculous, maybe even impossible. Why would someone like you fall for someone like him? Not that he’d care for you like that anyway…

“I don’t give a shit”, Sanemi finally mutters through gritted teeth.

“Shinazugawa, it seems like you have a type”, Gyomei declares all of the sudden.

Something inside Sanemi snaps.

“Are y’all actually too dumb to realize that (y/n)’d never want me? I’m actually so far away from being her type I might be on a whole other planet! It’s like everything I am is exactly what she doesn’t want”, he finally blurts out.

Sanemi’s heavy pants hang in the air while the eyes of Obanai, Giyu and even Gyomei are set on him.

“You should really start working on your self-esteem, Shinazugawa.”

“JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE Y’ALL!”

No, he can’t stand their bullshit anymore. Without listening to another word, Sanemi stomps away in the direction of his estate.

“(y/n) being in love with me? That I don’t laugh, why would I even care about that girl?”, he mumbles under his breath.

-a few days later-

Sanemi swallows heavy, orbs wandering up and down your body. You’re not wearing your usual black uniform and blooming haori. No, you look like a fucking goddess in that kimono and with those flowers braided into your hair.

“Do you think I look like too much?”, you question quietly, your own eyes wandering down your body in distress.

Maybe it was a mistake wearing that kimono for your meeting with Mitsuri. Of course, you knew she’d ask Obanai and Sanemi to accompany you. After all, it’s no secret that she adores the serpent hashira and knows too well about the feelings you hold for Sanemi. But now that you stand in front of him in something apart from your usual uniform, your confidence is blown away by the wind.

“You have to be kidding me. You look gorgeous”, Sanemi blurts out before thinking twice.

Fuck, did he really say that? You definitely think he’s a creep now. Maybe he should get going before it gets uncomfortable-

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks heating up in an instant. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa just call you gorgeous when he’s standing in front of you in that dark green kimono? How is it possible you’re never seen Sanemi in something apart from his usual uniform, that you never went out with each other?

“You look very handsome yourself. Dark green really suits you well”, you reply shyly.

Is it possible that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same about you? No, that would be absolutely ridiculous, right?

“(y/n), actually there’s something I wanted to say you for quite some time now…” What the hell is he blabbering about? There’s absolutely nothing he has to tell you apart from how fucking annoying you are. You and your gentle voice, you and your captivating smile. You, the polar opposite of him-

“Oh, I actually wanted to tell you something as well!”, you reply a little too fast.

For a moment, you fear your knees might give in. Is this really the time to tell him about your true feelings? “Sometimes you have to be brave, (y/n), especially when it comes to true love! Confess to him!”

Mitsuri is the love hashira. She should know best, right? But what if you’ll make your relationship only worse by making him uncomfortable? What if he doesn’t even like you?

“Sanemi, I…I actually…I-“

“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally blurts out.

Oh.

There you stand with your opened mouth and blank mind. Did he really just say that? Maybe he didn’t mean it that what. But what if…What if he actually means it?

“You…love me?”, you breathe out.

“I know I’m your polar opposite and that I treated you like shit and I really don’t expect you to actually like me back. I just…wanted to let you know…”, the white-haired man opposite of you mutters while scratching the back of his head.

“But I actually do like you back…”

Sanemi’s eyes dart towards you immediately, his very own cheeks discolored bright pink.

“You…what?”

“I guess I was just never brave enough to let you know since I was sure you hate me…”, you mutter in response.

“Me, hating you?”

All of the sudden, you find his strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face only inches away from yours. You fail to breathe, your whole body refusing to function properly. That force of a man who never really seemed to care about you while your feelings for him were all over the place…He holds you so tight that your wobbly legs don’t have to carry your weight anymore, his usual so distressed orbs now looking down at you so passionately that your heart skips a beat.

“Do I look like I hate you?”, he challenges while pulling you even closer.

You expected a lot of things that could have happened today. Sanemi Shinazugawa declining Mitsuri’s invitation in the first place. Sanemi Shinazugawa keeping his safe distance to you. Sanemi Shinazugawa barking at you for being a blowhard. Sanemi Shinazugawa criticizing each and every little thing you do. But Sanemi Shinazugawa admitting his love for you, Sanemi Shinazugawa holding you tightly in his arms?

Not in a million years.

“I love you too”, you finally speak out.

“I actually did for quite some time. But I always thought you’d never like me back.“

“Well, here I am liking you back, idiot”, Sanemi mutters.

Is that a smile on his face? Why does it suddenly feel like his lips are moving closer? Oh, you thought about kissing that man countless times. Each and every night, you imagined what the privilege of feeling his soft lips pressed against yours might feel like. Is he rough, gentle? Did the wind hashira already share a kiss or two? Out of instinct, you close your eyes, allow yourself to get lost in his arms.

“Look what we have here. Seems like the two of you finally managed to admit your feelings”, Obanai’s dry voice jeers at you from behind.

Your eyes dart open immediately.

“No Iguro-san! You’re interrupting them!”, Mitsuri hisses.

“Are you too dumb to see we’re in the middle of something? Get lost, you fools!”

“I KNEW IT (Y/N)! I KNEW HE LOVED YOU!”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[catscidr]

// the fatui's alcohol tolerance and drinking habits //  

i. note — after writing this post i started thinking about how the other harbingers would tolerate alcohol and then.... but this is also because of a lovely commenter on ao3, thank u pookie for enabling me ♡ ii. includes — all of the harbingers + pierro and the tsaritsa. gn!reader iii. cw — not proofread, alcohol, various fuckery and headcanons. crack. that's it iv. wc — 1,2k

丑角/Pierro, The director. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.   -> habits: has an entire wine cellar in the zapolyarny palace and owns a vineyard southern of snezhnaya. one of his hobbies consist of wine-testing; he’s the kind of person to cleanse his palate with a small sip that he swooshes in his mouth, then swirls his glass to observe the coat, sniffs the wine, takes another sip- you get it. if you asked, he would recommend you a wine based on your taste. you want something sweet but not dry? try dessert wines. want something a little more on the bitter side? get yourself a malbec from argentina. 

he hates anything that isn’t wine. don’t even try to give him a beer, he’ll look down at you with the most vicious glare you’ll feel sorry for being born. 

队长 /Il Capitano, The first. 

-> tolerance: 10/10, very high.  -> habits: doesn’t see the point of drinking so he never has a glass in his hands from his own volition. if he’s drinking it’s either because some coworkers managed to get him to come out for drinks, because he caught one of his agents drinking on the job and decided to have a drink as well, or because you convinced him to drink with you. 

his drink of choice is literally just any hard liquor, he doesn’t really care for taste. everyone is under the impression that he can’t get drunk, but some people just take it as an invitation to try to get him shitfaced (it never works out). 

博士/Il Dottore, The second. 

-> tolerance: 3/10, very low.  -> habits: never drinks and doesn’t see the point in it anyways, because it’ll only hinder his cognitive functions (you tried convincing him that he can get different perspectives that way. you were swiftly rewarded with a flick on the forehead). on top of that, he just can’t really handle alcohol so why purposely leave himself vulnerable like that. he didn’t care enough to give himself a higher tolerance for it when he modified his body, apparently. would probably be the designated driver if he went out to a bar (if he were invited in the first place. if he accepted the invitation, second.) 

the kind of person to get weirdly tipsy after two white claws. 

少女/Columbina, The third. 

-> tolerance: ?/10. What.  -> habits: o̴̻̒f̴̭͋f̵̣͝ė̵͎r̴̻̄ĭ̵̙ñ̶̥g̸͙͋ ̵̦͆ḫ̸̏e̷̺̊r̶̳̈́ ̴͖̓ä̷͖ ̷͓͆d̴̜̆r̴̡̄i̷̪͝n̵͕͂k̵̠̄ ̴͈̈́ŵ̵̭ȉ̶̺l̸̩̃l̵̲̈́ ̵͖͝ö̸̪n̸̘͝l̸̺̈ỹ̷̹ ̴͑͜ṡ̸̞p̵̪͆e̶͈̊l̵͈͌l̶̜͗ ̵̣̌y̵̢͒ŏ̴͔u̴̹͐ŗ̶̀ ̶͎̈d̶̥͑ö̷̧o̶͓̕m̵̘̃.̷̡̽ ̵͙̐ý̴̟o̸̻͝u̵̳͘ ̶̙́s̴̠̿h̶̡͋a̴̫͊l̶̮̾l̷̳̃ ̷͓͝n̶͕͝o̶̢̓ț̵̏ ̶̞͋w̷̹͝i̶̦̚ṫ̴̪n̸̖̉e̶̢͝s̸̝̕s̸͉͒ ̵̗̈́h̸͜͝ě̵̝r̷͙̉ ̶̭̃h̵͍͒o̶̠̅l̸̗͂i̴̞̕n̷͚̓ẽ̴͙s̵̙̀s̵̖̄ ̷̟͐ć̵͈ó̴̭n̴̙̾s̶̠͋ũ̷̙m̷̬̈́ì̷ͅn̶̯͛g̸̯̔ ̴̨͝t̶͙̕h̴̢͝e̵͔̋ ̵̖̀d̵̖͛ë̷͖́v̵̯͂ii̵͖̿q̵̯̽ŭ̴̺o̶͖̔r̵̠̒.̶̺͒ ̵̙͘l̵͑͜e̸̖͗a̷̞͝v̷̉ͅe̵̮̕ ̸̦̎h̸̩̎e̴̪̐r̸̰̀ ̷̩͠b̷̛̥ĕ̸ͅ ̸̪͒e̴̜͂l̸͖̄s̴͖̆ẽ̷̝ ̸̘͘y̸̹̋ô̴̺ṷ̷̓r̸̭̈́ ̸̜̅l̶͖̾i̵͇͘f̵͉̔e̵̜̚s̷̖̏p̴̫̈́ä̷̬́n̷͔͌ ̴̰̑w̵͝ͅȋ̶̫l̶̛̯ḷ̸͒ ̸̡̊s̷̹͠h̶̭͋o̶̹͆r̵̮͂t̵̥̽é̴̡ṉ̷͌ ̶͕̑ĉ̸̰ǫ̶̈́n̶̔͜s̸̺̃i̷͌͜d̸͚̂e̵̺͊r̸̺̄ą̸̆b̷̲͘ḻ̸̎y̶̠͂.̴̣̉ 

in her free time, she likes to practice her bartending skills, like making fresh piña coladas! 

仆人/Arlecchino, The fourth. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.  -> habits: likes to unwind with a glass of wine in her office while overlooking a multitude of paperwork. never drinks enough to get tipsy, but she could if she were surrounded by the right company...? if she wanted to, she could probably enter a drinking competition and win, though. whatever that means 

has let some children of the house of the hearth try wine. finds the grimaces they pull after a sip very amusing 

公鸡/Pulcinella, The fifth. 

-> tolerance: 6/10, moderate.  -> habits: the kind of man to drink wine with his meals, but he won’t have more than one and a half—two if he’s feeling particularly pent up. his tolerance isn’t that good because of his weight, unsurprisingly.  he doesn’t get invited to go out for drinks because he always ends up indulging just a bit too much. he then acts like a disappointed dad to everyone in the vicinity.

0/10 don’t bring him to a bar unless you want to be scolded for breathing.

国崩/Scaramouche, The sixth. 

-> tolerance: 4/10, low.  -> habits: hates alcohol but is weirdly competitive when it comes to it, if he’s with the right people. sort of. although alcohol doesn’t affect him in the same way it does regular people, it still makes him feel gross enough to not want to be near it. if he had to pick a drink it would be something like an aperol spritz. he’d wait like thirty minutes before drinking it, letting the bubbles fizz out a bit. hates the “taste” of carbonation with a passion.

don’t even try to get him to try give him a beer, he’ll turn it into a molotov cocktail 

木偶/Sandrone, The seventh. 

-> tolerance: 4/10, low.  -> habits: similar to il dottore, she hates drinking because it impairs her genius mind, but she’ll go out if only to make fun of drunk people (it rarely ever happens anyways). if she’s stuck with a drink in her hands for some reason, she’ll make the dapper ruin guard that’s at her side dispose of it for her. 

will it literally throw it away or will it dispose of it in a less destructive way? don’t stick around to find out. 

淑女/La Signora, The eighth. 

-> tolerance: 8/10, high.  -> habits: similar to arlecchino, she enjoys a good red wine occasionally. the only difference is that she needs to have it while bathing in the most expensive bath salts accompanied by so many candles it would be a hazard for her lungs. the queen of being a diva, has perfected the art of swirling wine in a glass while listening to jazzy music. 

absolutely adores dandelion wine; she always buys crates upon crates despite the ridiculous import fees. has one from so long ago you’re surprised the bottle hasn’t disintegrated yet—the name Rostam is engraved into it. 

富人/Pantalone, The ninth. 

-> tolerance: 7/10, moderate.  -> habits: probably the only normal one out of the bunch (which says a lot). whenever he drinks he always ends up tipsy, and when he’s tipsy, that façade he wears crumbles at the speed of light. gone are the strained fake smiles for politeness’ sake, in are the loud, angry rants about annoying clients. he won’t stop until his voice starts straining from usage. 

his go-to drink is literally whatever expensive wine he can get his hands on; he’ll drink with pierro and analyze wines, on occasion. don’t join them, you’ll die of boredom. 

公子/Tartaglia, The eleventh. 

-> tolerance: 9/10, very high. Debatable.  -> habits: you wouldn’t believe that he can handle alcohol better than most people because every time he drinks, he always gets shitfaced. he’ll insist he’s just testing his limits and building a higher tolerance. don’t bring him out for drinks with il capitano, he’ll inhale 5 shots of fire water in a couple of minutes to “convince” the first that he’s strong. it never works. 

probably the best person to go to a bar with, if you manage to go on a day where he didn’t wake up with the urge to get so stupidly plastered that he’ll try to fight every single man in the building. don’t let him try to show off, there aren’t many bars left that haven’t banned him yet. 

Царица , The Tsaritsa. 

-> tolerance: ?/10. What²  -> habits: ṯ̵̿ḧ̸̤́i̷̹͊s̴̠͐ ̷̧̍i̵̦͝ṡ̴̼ ̵̪͛ä̶̙́n̵͙͆ ̴͆ͅȃ̶͓s̵̜̅s̴̫̀a̵͑ͅs̵̡̓s̷͇̈́í̷̹n̷͕͠a̷̛̱ṱ̴͘i̷̡̕ō̴̻ń̷ͅ ̶͍̃a̵̧͝ṭ̶͝t̶̮̏e̴͉͑m̵̮̈p̵̰̕t̶̼̔.̸̯͆ ̵̗̔y̵̖͝ó̶̡u̶͇͑ ̵̜͌ẁ̶̘ï̵̢l̶̥̈l̶̲͐ ̴̩̔b̴̪͋e̸͎͌ ̷̲̑p̷̲̋r̴̦͐o̷̙͐m̵̟͝p̴͔͛t̷͔̂l̶̪̏y̶̖͂ ̶͊ͅd̵͉̓ỉ̵͔s̵̩̕p̴͖͐o̶͈͘s̵͌ͅḛ̴͂d̶̺̊ ̴̯̓ơ̵̺f̶̠́ ̵̈́͜a̴͙̎t̵̠͋ ̵̲̈ō̵͉n̴̨̒c̸̭͛ê̵͎.̶͓͘ ̵͇̃y̷̡̆ő̵͍ű̸̮ ̸̙͌c̶͈̔ȧ̷̳n̴͍̎ṅ̵͖ŏ̷̪t̵͉͝ ̸̩̇r̷͈̈́u̷͍͝n̷͔̿.̵̮͘ ̷͕̈́w̸̼̄h̴̥̏ý̵̘ ̷͇̀d̶͉̋ii̷̭̎n̶͙̎k̷̢̀ ̵̢̐c̷̣̀o̴͖̍ḿ̵̹i̵̥͘n̵̲̈g̸̫̒ ̵̠̏iͅií̷͎ť̴̻t̷̛̠y̴̟͝ ̴͖̑c̶͔̎o̴̮̽r̷̬̐ñ̴͖e̶͙͒ŕ̵̥ ̴͈̾s̶̙͊t̶̛̫ò̸̲r̶̺͊e̶̮͆ ̶̣̃b̷̰͘ḙ̴͘e̸̖̕ṛ̸̏ ̵̖̓ẃ̷̞a̷͕͐s̶̳͆ ̵̘̾a̶͔̓ ̵̣͛g̴̰͐o̴͕̊o̵̲̾d̸̦̔ ̴͓͗i 

drinks wine with la signora and arlecchino sometimes! their girls' nights only happen once in a blue moon and she doesn’t drink much, but she enjoys the slight buzz from a good red wine nonetheless. 

[jyoongim]

I have a brainrot to share and maybe it's a request idk but I feel like I have to preface this by saying I swear I have normal non-horny alastor thoughts he's just really taking up so much space in the brain rn.

Anywaaay, can you imagine Alastor with an extremely cautious darling? He wants her soul to keep her tied to him forever but no matter how good his offer is, reader turns him down and Alastor is just like sick of the rejections and the scheming so he's just gonna stoop to some other ungentlemanly methods.

And the night starts off as their normal fuckery in the sheets but Alastor starts denying them their climax and as reader gets more and more desperate Alastor proposes the deal again. Sell him your soul or he's just gonna pull out and go to sleep and he'll never let you finish ever again. and just

i swear i swear im normal i swear im not always like this 😭😭😭

Themes: rough sex, orgasm denial, alastor being a little shit, dealmaking, hair pulling, pet names, plot if you look hard enough, soul possessing

Title: Deal of a Lifetime

Alastor had always made it known that you were his.

It took you a while to figure it out from the subtle lingering touches to the way he acted. No matter how much time you had spent with the Radio Demon, you were still wary of him.

its not like you could help it through. 

Does were naturally skittish anyway.

And when it came the smiling demon, you had every right to be cautious.

Tonight Alastor made plans for the two of you to go out on a date for dinner.

You finished preening your hair and rushed to the lobby to meet Alastor.

”O-okay I’m ready. Sorry if i took so long” you said nervously as you approached the tall red demon, a blush bleeding into your cheeks as Alastor let out a low whistle as he took your hand and spun you around.

”my my Darling, what a pretty Doe I have” he purred, kissing your hands.

Your nerves were going haywire, fighting your instinct to back away you smiled “so what do you have planned tonight?”

what do you have planned tonight? Alastor grin widened at the thought as he watched you happily look at the menu.

How pretty you were in your black dress. Gloved hands excitedly tapping the menu. A bright look in your eye as you honed in on what might be your dinner.

You even wore the necklace he had gifted you.

Alastor was content with the looks you got as you strolled around with him.

you were his and everyone knew.

But you weren’t his officially.

At least in his way.

For years, Alastor had offered you a deal; Be his. In body, mind, and soul.

He wanted you by his side forever and a deal would solidify that.

But each and every time, you rejected the notion.

”I dont need to make a deal to be yours Alastor” was always your answer.

And quite frankly, he was getting sick of it.

But he was nothing if not resourceful. After all, how else do you capture a Doe?

Make them drop their guard.

The two of you chatted and ate to your hearts content.

When the waiter suggested dessert, Alastor simply declined, stating he had other ideas sending you a wink.

Back at the hotel, Alastor whisked you away to his bedroom.

Once the door was closed, he pounced; lips on yours and claws tearing at your dress.

You were flustered and aroused. Your hands massaged at his undercut as he laid you on your back on the bed.

His lips trailed your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your flesh, causing you to gasp.

”Alastor”

He hummed as he kissed your torso, tweaking and sucking at your nipples.

His claws dipped to your pantie, finding them soaked.

He chuckled “such a needy Doe” he tore off your panties to toy with your puffy clit and circle your slit.

You tugged his hair to bring his lips back to yours and moaned in his mouth as a finger dipped into your cunt.

Satisfied with how you began grinding into his hand, he discarded his pants and his heavy cock slapped against your mound.

You panted breathlessly as he teased his cock along your slit. You hooked a leg around his waist and threw your head back as he sunk into you.

Soft thrusts opened you to allow him deeper into the warm canal.

You arched as he steadily picked up his pace.

Your nightly rendezvous with the demon always made you feel exhilarated.

Alastor was very attentive to you. Always knew what made you tick.

He knew your body better than anything, so when he saw those pretty eyes flutter and how you cried out in pleasure, he knew how to handle you.

Your cunt was clinging to him with each thrust he gave you.

The sound of him sinking into your warm depth was music to his ears.

”On your knees dear” he said, patting your thighs.

Happliy, you turned over and lowered yourself into a deep arch, presenting him with your adorable ass and wet cunt.

Alastor admired you.

how submissive you were.

He growled as he lowered his weight on you and guided his cock by to his haven.

You gasped, feeling a hand wrap your hair into a fist, pulling your face up out the pillows “You sound so lovely doe, i wanna hear those tunes of yours”

His thrusts were hard, jolting your body as he rutted into you.

Subconsciously, you tried to meet his thrusts, whining as he hit that spot that has you seeing hearts.

”A-Al-Alastor i-I’m gonna…” you moaned feeling your cunt be wrecked.

Your insides tingled with the telltale signs of your orgasm.

But your sweet release was ripped from you when Alastor slowed his pace.

You tried to wiggle your hips against him, to seek that explosive pleasure.

Alastor was having none of that.

”Not yet darling” 

over and over he teased you right to that delicious edge, just to rip from you.

You were sobbing, ears flat to your skull as your cunt fluttered from your orgasm being denied.

You reached for him, whether for a anchor or a silent plea, you didn’t know.

You whimpered “Alastor please!”

His smile creased his cheeks, feigning a concerned tone “What ever the matter my dear Doe?”

He started thrusting into you, relishing in the soppy squish and how deep he was able to sink into you.

”Please please let me cum. I can’t..I-Ill do anything!”

A harsh thrust made you squeal

”Anything?”

You nodded, a moan ripping from your throat as he teased your throbbing clit.

”Then be mine. Submit your entire self to me my sweet doe. I already your sweet body and heart, but give me your soul. Let me own your very essence. Grant me that darling and ill grant you the sweet relief you so desperately crave” 

your insides clenched as he kissed your shoulder, beginning to pound into your soft cunt.

”or i empty myself inside this sweet cunt of your myDoe and you’ll never be granted a taste of my cock every again”

His lips at your ear, “your choice so what do you say Mon Cher?”

his hips grinded his cock into.

”Do we have a deal?”

You cried out, feeling your orgasm teetering “yes! Yes!Yes! YES! Please Alastor! Alastor just let me cum please please”

You felt your ring finger burn as he chuckled deeply

”why of course sweet Doe, cum for me”

A high pitched scream racked the walls as your orgasm clashed into, sending you in a babbling mess.

Alastor rode out your orgasm as he thrusted into you, before emptying himself inside you.

You shook as he wrapped you in his arms, bringing your hand to his lips.

A shiny gold ring adorned your hand.

He pressed a kiss to it and then an affectionate kiss to your forehead.

”Sweet sweet doe, my sweet Doe, all mine” 

[artytaeh]

slytherin boys' reaction to being interrupted while you were speaking.

so, the thing is: this week has been terrible and the potato manifestation did NOT work. </3 not only did my exam went terribly, but i'm really sick too— i'm so sorry for taking so long with the requests! 🤕

mattheo riddle x reader, theodore nott x reader, lorenzo berkshire x reader, draco malfoy x reader, blaise zabini x reader. fluff! i hope you enjoy. 🌷

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE FUCKS OUT OF THE CONVERSATION IMMEDIATELY. this man couldn't be bothered to continue to listen to the rest of the group, focusing his attention on you now. due to his introvert nature and having been a quieter kid during his first two years at hogwarts, theo understands the struggle. so, hand shoved on his pocket, theo reaches to brush his fingers on your cheek, gently calling your attention to him, and only him. 'you were saying? i want to hear the rest of it.', theo assures you, getting your attention out of the group of people (and distracting you from the embarrassment / hurt from being ignored), to have a conversation with him and only him. would enjoy the attention.

if the two of you are really close friends or in a relationship, theo would talk with those people separately; if the group was his slytherin friends, then theo would warn them to be more attentive about not interrupting you. would be mad if someone called you or him dramatic about it.

MATTHEO WOULD HAVE ABSOLUTELY NONE OF THIS, and stop this fuckery the same second it started. this man wouldn't have private talks or warnings like theodore did; the second someone interrupts you and your voice fades, mattheo will slap the back of their heads (if it's a boy) or nudge them with his elbow (if it's a girl), telling them to shut the hell up, since you were speaking first. then, with everyone silent, he'd nod at you, gesturing for you to continue what you were saying: 'go on babe, you weren't finished.'

this could feel so embarrassing, though; having this group of people all silent and staring at you, for the uhm, wrong reasons? if you complain or talk to mattheo about this, he'll just shrug, totally unbothered. 'can't fucking stand pick me people needing to shout and interrupt others. they're the ones who should be embarrassed, anyway.' and yes, he'll do it again. and again, and again. no one walks over his girl, nuh-huh.

LORENZO WOULD SILENTLY TAKE CARE OF THIS, with his passive-aggressive attitude. no one disrespects you, or his friends, in front of lorenzo without him having a say about it. would wrap his arm around your shoulders, a silent yet protective shield, as he lets out a little laugh. should anyone question it, lorenzo nods in the direction of the one who interrupted you: 'nothing, it's just funny how this one feels so important to the point of interrupting others. go on, tell us what's so important to interrupt my girl.' — an invitation for the said person to fuck off, because honestly, even the people around you would give them side glances, now that lorenzo remarks how rude that actually is.

i said it once and i'll say it again: this man is a bit of a bitch, and i love him for it. check his headcanons here!

DRACO WOULD TAKE THIS PERSONALLY, and be so, or more, offended on your behalf. you see, draco perceives that anything done or said to you, is a direct attack to him— something about growing up and seeing how lucius malfoy always protected his mother, narcissa malfoy, that stirs up protectiveness over his partner. like mattheo, draco directly takes care of the matter; would turn his attention to you, talking louder than whoever interrupted your words: 'darling, you didn't finish what you were saying. some deaf idiot must have not heard you talking first.' and, you see, draco malfoy is quite the queen bee of slytherin, so that alone is more than practice to deal with someone trying to step over you— and by extension, him.

actually so, so mean to whoever thinks that it's funny to be the slightest rude or disrespectful to you; no one will make fun of you in draco's presence. i mentioned this here too!

BLAISE WOULD DISCONNECT FROM THE CONVERSATION, very similar to theodore. the first thing blaise worries about, is your well-being— your feelings, caring if you're hurt and wanting to make sure that you won't take it personally. blaise offers you a smile, resting his hand on the back of your hand and massaging there, incredibly gentle to not mess up your hair: 'don't mind them, pretty girl; these idiots are way worse after some drinks, trust me. wanna tell me what you were saying? i'm all ears.' if you feel like only talking to him, blaise will have his full attention on you, catching up with his friends afterwards.

would silently reassure you with physical touch. as in, guiding you to stand in front of him, his strong arms wrapped around your shoulders and caressing them, while resting his chin on your head. sometimes, blaise can be the center of a conversation, with his great humor; other times, he's more of a listener. would always have 60% of his attention on you, and 40% on the group.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— the first slytherin boys react i've done, me thinks? once again tysm for reading, and requesting! i'll tend to them as soon as possible. (i'm so sorry i'm a perfectionist. 💔)

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷