#and you're to blame

[ria-the-camel]

hey there Delilah, what's it like in Laudna's tiddies...

is this anything? have a hundred thousand people done this altready?

[luckyjak]

sometimes I see a piece of art and it's like

shadowgast

[cypherscript]

why you gotta snipe me like this.

[prouvaireafterdark]

listen I know it's heartbreaking that Claudia dies and it's understandable to wish she didn't, but let's please not accuse the writers of fridging her. to do so is a fundamental misunderstanding of the story and is frankly insulting to the intelligence and skill of the writers of the show.

Claudia's death, and the overwhelming grief and regret her parents experience because of it, is quite literally the point of the entire story. she dies because Anne's daughter Michele died of leukemia when she was five years old and there was nothing she or her husband could do to prevent it.

writing IWTV was how Anne coped with the unimaginable loss of a parent losing her child. she created a story about a little girl that could not die and then killed her anyway. Claudia's death is a senseless, unavoidable tragedy, just like Michele's was. the grief that haunts Louis and Lestat for the rest of their lives is the same grief that haunted Anne and her husband.

so when you're accusing people of killing Claudia off to benefit a story about two men, please remember that in real life sometimes parents lose their children. please remember Michele Rice.

she's the reason Claudia exists.

she's also the reason Claudia cannot be saved.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

Of the 19 hijackers who carried out the Sept 11 attacks:

15 were from Saudi Arabia (a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

2 were from the United Arab Emirates (also a powerful/oil-rich country the U.S. works hard to maintain diplomatic relations with)

1 was from Egypt, 1 from Lebanon.

None of the hijackers were from Iraq.

None of the Sept 11 hijackers were Iraqi.

None of the 9/11 hijackers were from Iraq.

[uncanny-tranny]

Fat people deserve mobility aids, too. No matter if it's connected to their fatness or not, because having a mobility issue that is connected to one's fatness won't change that they're still fat and still have the issue at hand. Fat people don't deserve to "tough it out" because fatness should be this divine punishment doled out to those who "deserve" it. Fat disabled people deserve to have the peace of mind that they can exist in whatever way is most comfortable and accessible to them

[horsecrash]

shit in the head

funny as hell next question

[jakeperalta]

rachel zegler being a young new upcoming actress facing immense public hatred and reportedly significant pressure from disney to stop publicly supporting palestine but still standing her ground <3 a queen

[wispisstillverybored67]

.

I didn't mean for Twelve's tag to be so literal!

[inkskinned]

i'm still trying to piece together the truth of it. when you left, you said: feel free to spin this narrative however you want. i have no idea if you were being cruel or if you just genuinely don't remember what you've done to me.

it's hard because i'd done so much of the work for you. i had seen the parts that flaked off, the rust underneath. i started separating you into two people - the one i loved, and the one who hurt me. i had this fantasy version of you - my partner - and then i had this stranger, a third person who would show up randomly to shatter me. i am deliriously glad i'm no longer with "the stranger". i miss the gentle (unreal?) "other" you terribly.

at first, i was so strict about my boundaries. i remember telling you to get the fuck out of my house if you were going to talk to me like that. by the end: i would justify your behavior for you, accepting even your mistreatment as "my fault" in the grand scheme. i look back on the person i was before you - smart, independent, confident - and i feel a strange sense of detachment. i don't even recognize me.

even in one of our last conversations, you said: if you want a partner that always talks warmly to you, find someone else. there was a time that a comment like that would have made me leave. and instead, somehow, i just placidly accepted that kind of thing. you were literally telling me that i wasn't allowed to have a reaction to your cruelty - and i just took it, because you'd so fully turned things around on me.

when people are faced with irrationality, a rational brain tries to make sense of it. this is the trap. they're lovely in the morning, gentle and blue-eyed and sweet. like nothing even happened, they breeze around the house and kiss you on the mouth. but at night; who is that? they snap almost randomly; flying into an impotent rage about just-about-anything. it just doesn't make sense. so the problem must be me, and my brain, and how i think.

the traumatized brain just wants peace. so maybe i'm misremembering. maybe you were just having a bad day. maybe it's actually me.

you eventually would fully turn on me and start implying that i am the bad actor in our relationship. that's what happens, right? that's literally in the playbook. you went to therapy for all of a month, told her a half-truth, co-opted therapyspeak. you figured out how to reframe your actions as "seeking peace." any time i stood my ground, i was "gaslighting." when i asked you to be more gentle, you said i was "tone policing." you said, randomly, i had emotionally manipulated you - i still have no idea what that's even specifically referring to. maybe my consistent requests for calmness and empathy?

and while i literally know better, and i'm sitting here, trained by you, thinking: wait, fuck. was i actually the person you made me out to be?

and the thing that scares me is that i literally do not know if you ever actually saw what you were doing to me. when you'd tell me how you remember arguments, you'd always summarize them in a way where you come off as gentle and easy: "i was trying to set an important boundary." what had actually happened was 15 minutes of you shouting at me i know you did something shady, just admit it already. eventually you'd say my reaction to your shouting (when i finally reacted, which usually happened around hour three) was inevitably "disappointing" and "another way i'm silencing your feelings."

how many times did i ask you - beg you - to just take accountability? looking back, i don't think i ever heard you say: you're right. the way i talked to you was wrong of me.

i am trying to tie together the two people into a full version of you in my head. yes, you made my coffee and made me laugh and spent hours on the phone with me. and yes - you would scream at me until i had to run away and hide behind something.

i wish i did have a narrative i could pull out and shape to my whim. i wish i did have some semblance of reality. instead i just stand here, strange and vibrating, wondering: what the fuck just happened?

[azucar-skull]

OH OKAY JUST STAB MY HEART WHY DON'T YOU /AFF

Made this in 2 hours ignore how bad it looks URGRH

Aand the drawings :D

[pinkpasgetti]

Shot through the heart.

[rocketbirdie]

i don't want to lose you. i don't want to lose this

[delinquentkru]

at this point, i just need to see the fucking scripts because what is this

[meatgrinder-0]

[anto-pops]

Playing With Fire - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: “Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Alternatively summarized as you try getting Sebastian's undivided attention by making him jealous, but he doesn't take too kindly to your methods...

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, Auror!Sebastian Sallow, Unspeakable!MC, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, breeding kink, rough sex, voyeurism

Ahem... whatever this is, it's up on Ao3

There was no mistaking the murderous glint in Sebastian’s eyes as he dragged you through the hallway towards his office. Some Ministry workers stared, their eyes wide with alarm as the Auror manhandled you along behind him. Others whispered, because it wasn’t everyday that an Unspeakable such as yourself found themselves being bullied so brazenly. Everyone could see clear as day that something was going on between the two of you. 

But no one dared to move. No one wanted to risk piercing the suffocating silence that emanated from Sebastian. His pounding footsteps were louder than any verbal form of fury, anyway. 

It didn’t surprise you that he was acting like this. What he had seen you and your colleague discussing was important; top secret, official Ministry business that you were sworn to keep secret. Any information pertaining to the Veil in the Death Chamber was strictly prohibited from being reiterated outside of the Department of Mysteries. So when your fiancé had walked into the main hall of your workplace and spotted you and a coworker hunched over a table together– shoulder to shoulder and murmuring in low voices– of course his first reaction had been to get territorial. 

This was Sebastian Sallow, after all. He had never been the sharing sort, especially not when it came to you.  

You and your colleague clamming up upon his arrival probably hadn’t helped you look any less guilty, but that was what you’d been counting on. Besides, what choice did you have? The topic of discussion was classified. Your fiancé of six months knew that you weren’t at liberty to discuss your work– not like he could as an Auror. 

Still, that hadn’t stopped him from wordlessly yanking you away from your poor, terrified associate. Sebastian hadn’t made a noise the entire time he hauled you behind him through the Ministry towards the Auror offices. 

The door plaque with his name on it glinted mockingly as the man shoved it open, pulling you inside quickly before shutting it with a resounding boom. Before you could so much as blink, Sebastian had you shoved against his desk, pulling a gasp from your throat and sending a litany of parchment and other trinkets clattering to the ground. He didn’t so much as glance at the mess. 

No, he was too busy glaring at you as he peeled his coat from his shoulders. The attire was thrown harshly atop a small, cushiony chair in the corner of the room as if it had offended him somehow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything about it. You were too busy analyzing the fire blazing in his dark, penetrating eyes. You had lit it, and you were now faced with taking the brunt of the heat. 

“What the hell was that?” Sebastian’s voice was gruff when he finally spoke, leaning forward to pin your hips to the desk with his own. “Since when did Unspeakables work so closely together with one another?”

��Sebastian, it was nothing. We were just discussing our findings–”

His face ducked lower so it was directly beside your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin as his fingers dug into the curve of your waist. “Does ‘discussing findings’ have to be done in another man’s lap, or did I miss that addendum in my letter of employment? You were practically inside of him.” 

You inhaled sharply when Sebastian’s blunt nails raked up your sides, pulling your tucked shirt out of your skirt. “It was just work. You know I can’t talk about it with you–” 

“Maybe you should,” he growled, pulling back to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Maybe I need to know what warrants such familiarity amongst Unspeakables. Did you want me to catch you like that? Were you secretly hoping that I would walk in and find you cozying up to some random man that wasn’t me?”

“No! Of course not– you’re blowing this out of proportion!” 

“Am I?” He leaned down again, brushing his lips against your jaw before his mouth curved up into a wicked smile. “I’m your fiancé. I’m the one you said yes to when I asked you to marry me. I’m the only man you should ever let get that close to you. Or do you not agree?” 

“Of course I agree, but I can’t help what happens when I’m at work–” 

Your excuses were silenced by Sebastian’s teeth suddenly clamping down on your earlobe, a startled hiss bursting from you before you could stop it. “Liar,” he whispered. “There’s this thing called professionalism. You could tell your colleague,” he spat the word venomously, his grip on your waist tightening, “that it’s inappropriate to discuss your findings so close together. You could remind the oaf that you’re engaged– that he doesn’t stand a chance with you, and that he should quit while he’s ahead.” 

Sebastian shifted his hips back and gave himself space to begin undoing the buttons of your blouse, his hands moving startlingly fast over the clasps. You hardly had the time nor the ability to stop him– not with how turned on you found yourself becoming. Some might say the man you were in love with was overbearing and possessive, and they would be right… but those facets of Sebastian’s character were parts of him that you relished in. 

Which was exactly why you had made sure to set the scene he had walked in on perfectly. 

You’d known your fiancé was coming to pick you up for your lunch break since he had been so busy with work recently. He had promised you last night that he would make his recent absence up to you at the first opportunity, but a lunch date wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. You had been hoping for this exact scenario the moment the two of you made it home in the evening. 

Sebastian forgoing waiting and dragging you to his office, though? That hadn’t been expected. He wasn’t even going to bother with waiting to stake his claim on you. 

And despite your nosy, fellow employees lurking around outside the door, you liked that he wasn’t waiting. A lot. 

You glanced down at your chest once Sebastian had yanked your blouse over your shoulders, discarding the attire over his shoulder roughly. He ripped your brassiere away next, instantly kneading one of your breasts in his large hand with dizzying possession. “Look at me,” he hissed, the authority in his voice compelling you to listen. Through your lashes, you could see the heady flush creeping across his cheeks as he stared down at you, his ruddy skin a byproduct of lust and rage. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.” 

You didn’t hesitate for a second before whispering, “You, Sebastian…” 

Your voice trembled meekly, your eyes fixed on his as you tried to play innocent in the face of his wrath. But he saw right through your ruse– he always did. 

“Tell me the truth, darling.” Sebastian demanded, his tone smokey and icy all at once. “You knew what you were doing back there, didn’t you?” 

That devilish smirk reserved solely for you appeared on his face– the one that promised ruin and domination. He knew you had planned for this. He was well aware that you had been upset with him for prioritizing work for the last two weeks. You had told him as much time and time again, but there was little either one of you could do about it. The Ministry demanded much from its two prize workers; when duty called, you both answered at the drop of a hat. It was an unfortunate side-effect of being the Hero of Hogwarts and the youngest Auror to ever be assigned his own team. 

Sebastian knew you as well as you knew him. He could read you like a book– was intimately familiar with the way your brain worked. Your shoddy attempt at appearing demure wouldn’t work on him. 

His impatience was made palpable when he pinched the peak of your breast between his index finger and thumb, wringing a whine from your throat that you struggled to keep quiet. “Y-Yes,” you finally answered, your voice catching. “Yes, I knew what I was doing.” 

“You like to play dangerous games, darling. Is this what you wanted? You wanted me pissed enough to ruin you here with all these people around?” 

No. You had hoped for your bold actions to result in Sebastian stewing in jealousy for the entire day, then driving him to ignore his office at home to give you some attention. The plan had been for this exact situation to transpire in the comfort of your own house. Not here. Not while the two of you were at work. “Not… exactly…” you croaked. 

He chuckled darkly, releasing your breast and your waist to free his cock from the confines of his trousers. The full length of him was already at play– the tip leaking violently and bulging veins conveying his excitement well enough. He reached up to shove at your shoulder, guiding you back against the desk quickly and mercilessly, “Yeah, I’m sure you thought you had it all figured out, huh? Too bad I can guess every move of yours before you make it.” 

His cock glistened in the office light as he gathered the fabric of your skirt into a messy heap below your navel, holding it there as he slapped his length against your wet folds. “So don’t argue with me when I give you exactly what you wanted, darling.” 

The blunt head pressed against your dripping entrance, the pressure driving your heart into your throat as you stared up at Sebastian with wide eyes. He flashed you another sinful smirk before shifting forward, driving the entirety of his length inside of you in one fluid motion. 

You gasped– no, cried his name as he breached you. It was so sudden. So deep, so thick, so overwhelming, that your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you struggled to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The sound of your voice would likely carry. The people milling about outside of Sebastian’s office could probably hear you, and maybe some of them were even listening in considering the spectacle they had witnessed leading up to this moment. 

But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. All you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you open after two long weeks of forced celibacy, and you loved it. 

Your walls fluttered and clamped down on him, wringing a groan from Sebatian’s throat that intermingled with your panted breathing. “So tight…” he groaned, hunching over you as he planted both of his hands on either side of your waist. “You like this, don’t you, love? Making me watch you fawn over some other bloke just so you could end up under me, stuffed full of my cock?” 

Your eyes were half-lidded when you met his unwavering stare, your lips parted around shaky exhales and soft mewls. Then you nodded, no longer interested in trying to uphold your innocent facade. “Yes…” 

Sebastian’s eyes flashed, and then he was straightening his spine so he could lend his full strength to his movements. The first jerk of his hips had his cock punching into you so roughly that you cried out again, and you felt his nails bite into your skin in response to the sound. “No one could ever have you like this,” he grunted in-between thrusts, raking his fingers down your sides and leaving angry, red welts in their wake. “No one could ever fuck you the way I do. Isn’t that right? Tell me.” 

“Yes,” you gasped, your back arching off the desk when you felt him plant his thumb against your clit, circling the nub rapidly as he pounded into you. “Only you– there’s only you, Sebastian.” 

“Damn right there’s only me,” he echoed wickedly, his lust-dark eyes narrowing at you as he watched you writhe around atop the wood. Pleased with your confession, he angled his hips just so, aiming for the area inside of you that he never failed to find with stunning proficiency. It didn’t take long– barely half a second– and then your body began to tremble in response to his assault on that magic spot. The head of his cock kissed against it over and over, and coupled with his unrelenting attention on your bundle of nerves, you felt tension take root deep in your gut. “You’re mine, darling. There’s a band on your finger that proves it.” 

Your moans turned high-pitched, and your fingers dug into the wood of the desk as you desperately tried to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian– fuck– I can’t–”

The lone hand on your waist shifted so it was splayed across your lower stomach. Sebastian grinned maniacally as he applied a careful amount of pressure there, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock as he hammered into your cunt with feral intention. It knocked the air clean from your lungs– your breathless gasps of his name suddenly quiet enough that you knew he was the only one who could hear them. 

“Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.” 

Fuck– it was too much. His dirty, shameless talking, the brutal thrusts against the deepest parts of you, his thumb moving ceaselessly over your clit. It was overwhelming– all of it threatening to send you careening over the edge even though you didn’t want a second of the euphoria to end. 

Sebastian’s nails dug into your skin– right above where he knew your womb was– branding you with crescent shaped imprints that made your stomach lurch with arousal. You weren’t walking out of here without marks, that was for certain. Markings from the man you were set to marry would litter your flesh for days to come, and that thought made the tension in your gut amplify tenfold. 

“S-Sebastian,” you whimpered, lifting a shaky hand to grasp the one he had splayed against your stomach. “I– I love you, I’m sorry– I love you–” 

He groaned when your walls fluttered around his cock. It was as though your body was trying to swallow him deeper– sucking him in further as you neared your blissful precipice. “You can’t do that anymore, darling,” he leaned down, capturing your lips with his briefly before biting down on your bottom lip. “No more taunting me like that. No more.” 

You nodded helplessly beneath him as he rammed his hips into you for emphasis, tears of pent-up pleasure quickly welling in your eyes. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t– please, I’m so close–”

Sebastian’s thumb pressed harder against your clit, circling the nub too fast and too firmly for you to think straight. Your legs kicked out on either side of him at the overstimulation, your voice falling off into a sharp, strung out sob as you continued to plead brainlessly. 

“Please, Gods, please–” 

His lips were directly against your ear when he growled, “Go on, love. Come for me. I want you drooling and crying– too full of me to even fucking walk.” 

Sebastian never relented as you crept closer to the brink. His thrusts turned brutish, faster, and more unforgiving as he furiously worked his thumb over your bundle of nerves. The animalistic grunts he let loose were laced with a tangible hunger that finally caused the knot in your stomach to snap. 

And it snapped hard. 

All at once, your body seized. Your back arched off the desk and pressed against his chest, a ragged moan ripping from your throat and echoing throughout the room so loudly that it left little room for interpretation to any listeners outside. Your walls clamped down on his cock like a vice– your cunt milking his length as though it never wanted to let him go. Your fluids soaked his trousers as your thighs trembled, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you and leaving you a boneless, twitching mass atop the desk. It was utter rapture. 

But Sebastian didn’t stop. 

“So fucking perfect,” he growled, his breath hot against your cheek before he stood straight again. “But I’m not done yet.” 

His ferocious pace never wavered as he resumed his earlier upright position; one hand on your stomach and the other maddeningly focused on your clit. Sebastian kept pounding into you, letting you ride out your climax while forcing your body into another, knocking the wind from you with such fervor that it bordered on cruel. Your hips twitched in a feeble attempt to escape the overstimulation, but the hand on your lower midriff kept you firmly in place. 

“S-Sebastian, wait,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut against the persisting pleasure he bestowed upon you. “I-It’s too much–” 

“You’ll be fine. You wanted this, remember?” He slammed into you again, laughing breathily when you dug your nails into the top of his hand. “I’m just giving you what you indirectly asked for, darling.” 

Merlin– you had bitten off way more than you could chew. 

You sobbed, the sound laced with both pain and pleasure as your body went limp beneath him. Overly sensitive. Helpless. He was going to make you regret goading him into such a frenzy. 

The sordid sound of Sebastian’s hips slapping against your wet cunt was sloppy. His finger moved in every direction over your clit, the slickness covering every inch of your lower half making the pad of his thumb slide all too easily around the nub. Every time he made direct contact with it, you jolted. Senseless noises fell from your lips as you were brought to orgasm once again, more evidence of your arousal gushing around Sebastian’s cock and staining his clothes, but he hardly paid it any mind. 

Evidently he had more pressing matters to focus on.

His head tipped forward, a guttural moan tearing from his throat and reverberating through you as he endured your walls tightening around him. It was like nothing could throw him off, his tempo withstanding the feeling of your body sucking him in greedily, the force of his thrusts causing your shoulder blades to scrape against the wood of the desk. Mussed strands of his hair fell into his eyes when he looked back at you, his pupils blown wide, and his lips parted around a telling gasp of your name. 

After what seemed like an eternity of brutal overstimulation, Sebastian slammed home deep before finally stilling. He buried himself in your cunt all the way to the hilt as he panted hard, pressing down against your stomach with enough force that you groaned– and you were certain he could feel himself emptying his load inside of you. At least, you certainly could. The hot spurts of his seed scorched you all the way to your core before it started to seep out and drip onto the floor. The sound of it escaping your ravaged center prompted Sebastian to grind against you– trapping his oozing spend in your body with his own. 

How the hell were you supposed to go back to work after this? 

The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your cheekbone pulled your heavy eyelids apart, and you were met with your fiancé drinking in the sight of your fucked-out expression with sinful male satisfaction etched across his face. His gaze flicked down towards your left hand, and he gingerly lifted it towards his lips to kiss the diamond studded gold band around your ring finger. All you could bring yourself to do was hum questioningly, your mind still too frazzled to form a proper sentence. 

“I think we need to recall the wedding invitations we sent out…” 

That snapped you out of your post-coital stupor quicker than a lightning strike. What did he mean, recall? 

Surely he wasn’t implying he wanted to cancel it. 

Had you fucked up worse than you’d imagined by taunting him? Was he calling off the wedding? Had your selfish urge to get his attention ruined your future with him before it had even started? Your eyes went wider than saucers, and your voice was tight when you croaked, “What? Why?” 

Sebastian’s grin was equal parts reassuring and terrifying. He ground his still-solid cock into you again to wring a strangled gasp from you, the squelching sound making you flush from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes. “Because I don’t think I want to wait until spring anymore. The sooner I can make you mine, the sooner I can spend all of my spare time trying to fuck a baby into you. That is, if I haven’t already… that would really keep other men away, wouldn’t it?” 

You glanced down to where his pulsing length was still sheathed in your cunt– its unwavering hardness a testament to how Sebastian was nowhere near finished with you. He pulled back before ramming his hips against you again, forcing a startled, pleasure-induced yelp from your throat. When you looked back up at him, you found that the fire in his eyes from earlier was burning brighter than ever, inextinguishable in its intensity. 

Oh, gods. You’d really done it now.