#but they kept saying they wanted 'regular wood'

[possibly-in-mordland]

part of my dream last night included magnus and @fishklok's oc satenik

[wrioluvr]

subby vampire x dom male reader pt 2 pt 1

thank u guys for liking kliff!! he's so baby. felt kinda mean and thought about a scenario where reader is like, a regular monster fucker and poor kliff finds out he hooked up with another vampire and gets super jealous teehee... but this is wholesome tho.

content: reader is kind of a player, blowjob (reader receiving), reader loves tormenting the poor old man, more plot-focused than pure smut

★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱

after visiting kliff at his crumbling manor a few more times, you decided that you were getting tired of making the trip out into the woods everytime, and invited him over to your house instead, an invitation he eagerly accepted. though he kept a calm composure, inwardly, his thoughts were running wild - he would finally be able to bask in a whole home full of your scent.... maybe even steal a few small trinkets he could toy with whenever he felt lonely... or... or even get a feel of your bed, where he fantasised about waking up next to you and spending the rest of his days as your faithful househusband. oh, how delightful.

"thank you ever so much for allowing me to enter your abode. i am most honoured." thanking you profusely, he elegantly sat down on your sofa, only to immediately scrunch up his face in discomfort. you stared at him, puzzled. "what's wrong? you don't like my home?"

"no, no... it's not that... it's just that... this scent is so familiar. in an unnverving way..." he mumbled, talking to himself. suddenly, a look of recognition, mixed with horror, dawned on his face. "correct me if i'm wrong, but... there's not a chance you've had another vampire over.... is there?"

"oh! i forgot you vampires have a heightened sense of smell. yeah, i hooked up with another vampire like, 3 weeks ago." you said nonchantly, like it was the most insignificant thing ever. kliff merely gaped at you, aghast at your casualness. "so... so... i'm not your first vampire relationship?" he asked meekly, almost like he was afraid of the answer.

"well, yes. i dated, hmm...." you start to list them on your fingers. "two vampires, one werewolf, one merman... oh, right, and one evil ass fairy. he was mean."

poor kliff looked like he was about to collapse, his hand clutching his chest dramatically. thankfully he was sitting down, otherwise he would have fallen over. "where on earth do you even find these creatures?"

"i get around."

"and you never thought to mention this?!"

"i mean, i didn't really think it was important..."

kliff sighed, suddenly feeling a little insecure at his complete lack of romantic experience in contrast to your many flings. "may i at least see what your past vampire suitors looked like?" he didn't want to admit it, but he was suddenly feeling very clingy, even more than usual. he had to be better than all your exes! so that you wouldn't leave him like you left them!

"sure. here you go." you pull out your phone and show him a picture, only for kliff to gasp loudly and clutch his chest even tighter. what a drama queen.

"HIM."

"you know him??"

"that little whore was going around sleeping with every man and woman in town a hundred years ago! i cannot BELIEVE he is still so promiscuous in this day and age. he even seduced you..."

"woah! language, kliff!"

kliff stops mid-ramble and clears his throat in embarassment. "my apologies. this is most uncouth of me. i do not know why i am getting so frustrated over this. the two of you are not seeing each other anymore, correct?"

"yes. you're the only one i'm seeing right now."

"and, if i may be so bold to inquire,,,, how was he like as a lover?"

"he was kinda annoying." kilff let a smirk escape his lips upon hearing this. "i knew it-" "the head was good though."

"what- what does 'head' mean?"

"he sucked my dick." you say bluntly.

"oh, good heavens."

"don't be a prude! wait... kliff, are you jealous of him?"

"i most certainly am not."

"at your big age? please be serious." you tease, amused at how possessive he suddenly got.

"do NOT make fun of me. i said i'm not." the pout adorning his face said otherwise.

kliff barely noticed it, but slowly he inched closer and closer to you, eyes scanning your neck as he frantically searched for bite marks.

"did he bite you anywhere? did it hurt? you must know, i would never even consider drinking from you, right?" he took your hand, eyes searching desperately for validation, any form of praise that indicated you thought he was the better vampire.

you rolled your eyes. "jeez, kliff. i didn't take you for the possessive type. don't worry, none of my previous vampire lovers have drunk from me."

that did little to reassure him, since he was on the same page. "then... then... i must be better at this 'head' thing!" he declares, face full of misplaced determination. you almost double over laughing.

"it's not a competition! my god, you're so unserious."

"it does not matter to me! i must be better than that lustful shame of a vampire at every aspect. especially since we are of the same species."

"okay, okay. calm down. i'll let you try."

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

"just let me know you can't breathe or whatever. i'll guide you through your first time, yeah?" kliff nods, a blush extremely prominent on his undead features as he knelt between your thighs. he quite enjoyed this... submissive position.

"also- watch the fangs." the authoritative, yet gentle tone of your voice sent shivers down his spine.

he himself could be considered a monster, but he paled in comparison to the monster that sprung out of your pants once he clumsily undid the zipper. kliff gasped, a look of pure lust and nervousness written all over his expression as your slightly erect cock hovered over his face.

"so... basically... you just put it inside your mouth, then start sucking it. easy enough, right? come on, don't tell me you've never heard of a blowjob in your entire existence."

"of course i have..... i admit, i own quite a bit of... erotic fiction." he mumbles, eyes still on your cock, cheeks growing redder by the second. "but, goodness, it's so different seeing a real phallus up close. especially one of your size."

"phallus??? just say cock."

"mhm...." he hesitates, unsure where to even begin. flustered, he looks up imploringly, silently begging for you to guide him.

you chuckle at his frozen state, completely at a loss on what to do. "so needy. i'll help you."

tenderly, you run a hand through his soft hair, applying just a little bit of power to tug his head forward, guiding him to your tip. obediently, he opened his mouth, taking the shaft inside. it was warm, his rough tongue grazing over your tip, causing you to grip his hair a little tighter. kliff let out a masochistic moan in response. slowly, he ventured further down your length, but unable to reach the base without gagging. he looked up at you with apologetic eyes, but you squeezed his shoulder to let him know he was doing well. "good job, kliff. you're a natural." spurred on by your praise, kliff found a lewd rhythm, mouth bobbing up and down in a continuous passionate attempt to make you feel good.

your small grunts of pleasure kept him going. panting, you ask, "you sure you've never done this before, kliff? you're so good." he frantically shakes his head, mouth still full of cock, as if the idea that he engaged in such intimate acts with anyone but you was horrifying. he was loyal like that. it was intoxicating, the head only vampires could provide - fangs lightly grazing your cock's sensitive areas, the slight thrill unmatched. merman head was sloppy, werewolf head was rough, but vampire head was a little dangerous. you liked that.

soon enough, you were about to cum. you warned him, patting his shoulder twice, he vigorously nodded, giving you permission to cum inside his mouth. he'd only ever been used to having blood in his mouth, so having your cum inside instead was a new experience. but he liked it. maybe a little too much, as he swallowed it so enthusiastically. you gazed upon him affectionately, finding his virgin excitement over such lewd matters endearing.

"how was i?" the breathless question hung in the air, a reminder of the atmosphere thick with your intertwined tension.

cupping his face with one hand, the other stroking his hair soothingly, you muttered the words he most wanted to hear. "you were better than him."

kliff jumps into your arms, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. "thank you. you're the absolute best." he's so content to spend the rest of his days with you. treat him with care, yeah?

>ᵥᵥ< 💘

tags: @4eaever @szapizzapanda @flyingsquids @vampmasc

omg i'm so happy with this one, one of my fav writings i've ever done so far. i felt like i characterised kliff and captured their dynamic quite well here hehehe

[mayajadewrites]

my type: shouta aizawa x dancer! reader

✦ synopsis: you're a dancer at a club that a certain erasure hero frequents every night after patrol. he's never talked to anyone before, until one night you decide to change that.

✦ content warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, strippers

✦ relationships: aizawa x fem!reader

ao3

Every night, at 2AM on the dot, Pro Hero Eraserhead lingers into the club. You started noticing about 2 months ago when he would come in, order a few beers, and just watch.

He never got dances, though many, many dancers have asked him if he would like one. Even for free.

You've kept your distance from the raven-haired man, his yellow goggles pushed up against his hair. He seemed like bad news, and you wanted no parts.

During your stage time, you noticed him in the crowd. He wasn't in his hero uniform though, so maybe it was his night off.

Why was he here on his night off?

He exuded mysteriousness.

Your outfit tonight was all black - a black bikini with a mesh long sleeve crop top over it. You wore black metallic shorts that gave little to the imagination, with platform black heels.

You took your normal walk around the club, saying hi to some of your regulars and chatting with your fellow dancers.

Eraserhead with sat at a loveseat, his legs spread in the cockiest way.

"Have you ever given him a dance?" You asked one of the dancers. "Eraserhead."

"No, but GOD do I want to." She turned to look at him, biting her bottom lip. "He's so sexy. But he just comes here to drink I guess."

"Why not go to a bar then?"

"Girl I don't know. Why don't you ask him." She gently pushed between your shoulders to his direction.

His eyes were already locked on you as he sipped his drink.

They never left you once he locked eyes with you.

"Well if it isn't my favorite Pro Hero." You sit down next to him in the loveseat.

"Hello." His voice was deep. Deep as fuck. Not what you were expecting from a man who has never said one word in here.

"You know, I've seen you around." You crossed your legs - your thick thighs on display. "None of the girls have danced for you, though."

"I don't want any of them." He turned his head to take a sip of his drink, which looked like whiskey.

"Why not? They're gorgeous and can dance really well."

"Not my type."

"So what is your type, Eraserhead?" You lean into his space more, giving him a nice view of your tits.

"I prefer thicker women." He eyed your body up and down. "Ones that wear all black." He set his cup down on the table in front of him. "Ones that have the fattest ass I've ever seen."

"I've been here every time you were, so why didn't you say anything? Or ask for a dance?"

"What's your name?"

"My name here Rogue."

"Well, Rogue, every time I've wanted to you're already with someone and then you leave since the club closes at 3. I get here at 2."

"Tonights your lucky night then, hm?" You drag your nails along his black pants, stopping at his thigh. "Is that why you came here on your night off? To see me, Eraser?"

"Call me Shouta."

"Shouta." You repeated, your heart racing. He smelled like a mixture of musk, vanilla and cedar wood. His scent filled your nostrils as you moved your body just an inch closer to him.

"How much for a dance?" He pulled his leather wallet out of his pants pocket, revealing crisp bills.

"A private dance is $300."

"Heres $600." Shouta handed you the bills. He leaned in, his lips just grazing your ear. You grabbed his hand and lead him to the private rooms, which have a loveseat, LED lights, and a coffee table.

His hand is large and veiny, but soft and gentle, contrary to his appearance. You gently push him down onto the loveseat, watching his legs spread as he fixes his pants, most likely due to his erection.

You place your hands on his thighs as you start to move with the beat of the song that's on. Shouta stares at you, swallowing your entire figure with his eyes. You turned around and bent over to shake your ass and thighs, his lips parted just enough for you to tell he was enjoying this. Really enjoying this.

You ran your hands up and down your curves, his eyes focused on your thick, plush thighs as you danced.

You turned around to face him once more as you settle yourself into his lap - straddling him.

Your arms drape over his shoulders as you grind your hips on top of him, your clothed core soaked. You wonder if he can feel it.

His hands remained on the sides of his legs as you danced on him, refusing to give you the satisfaction you so desperately want.

Shouta's raven hair was beautiful and you needed to have your fingers in it. You wanted to feel the strands of his hair intertwined with your fingers.

He's just staring at you as you move, waiting to see what you do next.

You're becoming impatient. And annoyed that he isn't giving you the validation that you're chasing from him. You're usually confident - after all, this is your job. But Shouta is different.

You place your dainty hands on his chest and you can feel his muscles through the fabric. God, what you would do to see what's underneath.

"Handsy are we?" Shouta finally spoke, his voice smooth like velvet.

"Eraser." You sighed as you hooked your ankles onto his leg.

"Shouta."

"Shouta," You pressed your palms into him. "I-I want,"

"Use your words." Shouta grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger. "My quirk isn't mind reading."

Why was he making you so tongue-tied?

"I want you to touch me." You flipped your hair to one side as you spoke.

"Show me where." He put his hands up in front of you so you can grab them. "Put them where you want me to touch you."

You almost let out a whimper as you pull one hand to your the front of your neck, the other on your aching cunt.

Shouta's facial expression didn't change though. He still looked serious. Still barely looked like he wanted to be there. You moved his hands again, one to your breast and the other on your ass, to which he couldn't help but squeeze gently.

"Can I show you were I want to touch you?" Shouta leaned into your ear, his breath dancing on your skin. You nod, eager to feel him touch you at his own accord.

He mimicked where you placed his hands, but dragged his hands from your ass to your thighs. This man is definitely obsessed with thighs and would do anything to get in between yours.

"Let's get out of here." You leaned into him, your lips almost touching.

"Meet me in the parking lot."

-

You walked out into the cold night air, scanning the parking lot to find Shouta. You're wearing an oversized black hoodie with black biker shorts and slides.

You spot him leaning against his car with his arms crossed, looking sexy as fuck.

"You might look more gorgeous like that." He opened the passenger door for you before speeding off to your destination.

He wasted absolutely no time grabbing you once you were in his space. His apartment is clean and dark when his hands found your waist, pulling you into a frenzied kiss.

His lips felt hot on yours as his hands snuck under your hoodie, pressing his cold hands onto your soft stomach. "You're so beautiful, you know that?" He whispered against your lips as his moves his hands up to your tits. "I've thought about you for 2 months. Every. Day."

"Now you wanna talk?" You smirk as you bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you. "You were so quiet at the club."

"There was only one person I wanted to talk to." He growled as his lips attached to your neck. You threw your head back as he found your sensitive spot, kissing and sucking on your skin.

He then moved back to your lips, his large hand wrapping around your neck gently. You felt his fingertips slightly squeeze as he kissed you so sensually that you thought you were going to come right then and there.

Your pussy ached for his touch. A whimper escaped your throat as he kissed you, unable to say more than two words.

"Bed, please."

"You're so needy." Shouta pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. He pulled you into his room and practically threw you on the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his chiseled physique. He's fucking beautiful.

You laid on your back as he crawled over you, his lips finding yours again. You let your hands explore his body - fingertips over each and every muscle. He pulled his hair into a bun as he kissed you, making sure nothing was in his way. Not a hair could ruin this sight.

"Off." He pulled on the hem of your hoodie. You obeyed, pulling the fabric over your head and revealing your lacy bra.

He dipped his head down to your chest, kissing your skin gently. His lips felt even hotter on your skin now.

"Shouta, please."

"What did I tell you about using your words?"

"I want you inside of me. Right now." You whine as you wrap your arms around his neck. "I can't wait anymore."

Shouta was silent as he dipped his hand inside your shirts, his middle finger finding your soaked cunt. He smirked as he pulled the finger out, staring at the almost glittering arousal on his fingertip.

"So wet for me already." He pushed the finger into his mouth, tasting you. "You want me right now, pretty girl?"

You nod as you kick your shorts and thong off. You help him with his belt and other barriers to his cock. Your fingertips danced on the elastic of his boxer briefs when you felt his hard cock through the fabric. Fuck, he's big.

"Go ahead." He watched you as you pulled his underwear down, his cock slapping against his abdomen. Your eyes grew wide at his size, but you're also nervous about him fitting inside of you.

You spread your legs, watching Shouta line himself with your soaking cunt. You feel his fat tip graze your slits, a moan leaving your mouth.

"Shh, my neighbors will hear." He smirked as he slowly pushed his tip inside of you. "Wouldn't want them to think I have some loud, inconsiderate brat in here." His muscular arms caged you in as he kissed your lips to ease his cock sliding inside of you.

"F-Fuck." You moan as you feel the entirety of Shouta Aizawa. Even though you're soaked, it's still work to get him all the way inside of you. "Shouta, you're so big."

"I know, baby." He pressed his hand to the back of your head, pushing you up to kiss him. "You're taking me so well."

Your eyes roll back as he gains his rhythm, his thrusts slow and deliberate. "That's right, pretty girl. Take my fat cock." He pushed himself inside you until the hilt, his balls hitting your ass.

Your gummy walls swallowed him once you got used to his size, clenching against his cock. In a frenzied kiss, your lips attached to his as he buried his cock into you.

The room filled with the lewd noises of your bodies and sinful moans. You could listen to Shouta moan all day.

"Rogue." He moaned, caressing your cheek.

You told him your name. Your real name.

"Don't call me Rogue ever again." You kiss his lips again, slipping your tongue inside. His pace quickened as he kissed you and you could feel yourself getting close.

Shouta must've felt your cunt clenching him because his large, calloused hand dipped to your clit, rubbing circles gently.

"Shouta, fuck!" You moan loading as he massaged your sensitive nub.

"Be quiet." He used his other hand to cover your mouth as he rubbed your clit and thrusted into you. "I don't need a noise complaint."

He kept his hand on your mouth as you began to lose control of your body. You closed your eyes as you swear you saw stars, the taste of Shouta's skin on your lips as he pushed his hand against your mouth.

"Mmm." You moaned, dragging your fingernails down his back. His strokes started to become sporadic, so he took his hand off your lips. You were coming down from your high as he was just approaching his.

"Fuck, baby, this pussy was made for me. You know that?" His breath was labored. "I could fuck you every day and never want another pussy. I'm gonna get you out of the club and take care of you." He pushed himself inside you once more, layering your gummy walls with his seed.

You both had to catch your breath from the life altering orgasms you just had. Shouta's skin was shiny from the sweat, some face framing pieces of his hair that fell out of his bun are sticking to his face. You pushed them behind his ear gently, kissing his lips.

"You're gonna take care of me, Shouta?" You smile as he kisses you back.

"Mm, yes." He pulls his cock out of you. You whimper from the loss of contact, not ready to be without him inside of you. "You'll make a pretty little housewife."

[the-californicationist]

he comes closer and closer...

Price/Reader - TW: bondage, explicit consent, anal fingering, begging, male whimpering, edgeplay, blowjobs

“I want you to remember, especially in an hour or so, that you asked for this,” you kissed his bearded cheek softly, smelling his cologne, “Begged for it, even.”

“Aye. I did,” he replied, his accent thick and heady.

Captain Price was fully naked and strapped down to his office desk, tied with a length of paracord. His body was stretched out like a rubber band, his skin shining from sweat and covered in dark hair. You could hear his labored breathing and feel his eyes on you, watching you as you walked around the desk, rubbing his arms and legs with your hands, playing with his nipples, fondling him everywhere except where he wanted you to. 

“And yet, you say I’m being unfair?” You pouted playfully, settling yourself between his knees, purposely avoiding his twitching cock.

“Edging involves at least a little…attention. Touch me, love. Please.”

“Begging again? How desperate you are tonight,” you smiled, lowering your mouth just above where his pink head could reach. Watching his hips and cock strain towards you was enchanting. 

“Baby, please, it aches. You can’t…please, don’t just leave me like this.”

“Maybe just one little taste, hmm? Just to see if you’ll be a good boy.”

“I will,” he strained harder, fighting the ropes, “I will, I promise. Please-please-please…”

“I don’t know, Captain. Do you remember the rules?”

“Yes, love, I remember. Please, just -”

“Tell me.”

He sighed, and you watched his abs flex on the exhale, his belly convulsing with his ragged breaths,

“I have to warn you when I come, and…”

“And?” You drug out the word like a sticky strand of taffy, pulling it to the point of breaking. 

“...and if I don’t, I can’t have your cunt.”

“No, you can’t. So, be good, John. Show me you want this pussy.”

He growled, 

“Fuck, I want it right bloody now. Please, baby, I -”

“Shh. Enough. You need to learn patience, my darling. We’re just getting started.”

You put a dollop of lube in your hand and rubbed it all over his shaft. He was so swollen, and the cockring you put around him had kept him that way for a while. It was wrapped around the base of his shaft and under his balls, stretching the skin and keeping it rigid. He was grunting as you worked him, his whole body reacting to your touch. The desk creaked as he strained against it. You were a little concerned about its integrity. If he broke the straps, or the desk, there were no rules left to bind him. 

“Mmm, unhgh…yeah, just like that. Fuuuuuck…” Price groaned loudly. 

You stopped, pulling away from him with a wet pop. 

“Ah! No, no, no…” He complained. 

You ran your fingers up and down his torso, threatening to touch his cock again. Every time you got close, you could hear the wood of the desk cry out, stretching from his strength. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” You asked him, licking his nipple, biting his skin. 

“Oh, fuck, yes it does. Please, come back.”

You returned to his cock, but instead of quick solid strokes, you pulled him slowly, painfully slowly, and at an odd angle, so none of his regular sensations were available for him to hold onto. Each time you pulled up and over his cockhead, he would grunt for you, like an angry bull. 

Changing your grip, you massaged his balls and he sighed. Then, you rubbed his inner thighs and the skin behind his sack and between his legs, pressing on his internal root, jerking it as if it were his cock at the surface. It made his dick flag up and down as you did so, and he did everything he could to move you either forwards or back, being cruelly teased by your positioning. 

You stopped again. You heard him groan deep and low. His cock was rosy pink, flushed with blood and thicker than you’d ever seen it. You put some lube on your finger and dipped between his legs, finding his asshole, warm and covered in thick hair. He jolted, as much as the ropes would allow.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you remember Warsaw?”

His eyes were wild, but then they went ice cold, the realization washing over him. You chuckled, continuing, rimming your finger around his hole as you spoke, 

“You found me during our field training, and you held me down, plunging those fingers into my pussy and my ass, not allowing me to come for a whole evening, telling me that only bad soldiers got caught, and since I was bad, I didn’t deserve an orgasm. Have you been bad, John?”

You slipped a finger past his outer muscles, feeling the smooth skin inside of his asshole, massaging it in slow, aching circles. He held his breath, but he was shaking his head back and forth, protesting against your appraisal of his sins. You checked in with him, pausing your movements.

“Green or yellow?”

It took a few moments, but he growled out a very clear, 

“Green, love. Green.”

You pushed your finger in until you found the spot you were looking for. You began to rub little firm circles inside of him while jerking his cock with your free hand. There was so much to love about the feedback you were getting from him. His face was wide with intense pleasure, and his pupils were fully blown. You thrust your hand around him faster, focusing on his head. As soon as you saw his eyes clench shut, you removed yourself from him entirely. 

“No! Fuckin’ hell,” he moaned, frustrated and desperate for you to let him finish. 

“Mmm, about to break a rule, Captain? You never were good at following orders.”

You sucked his cock into your mouth, softly, gently, and applied almost no suction. He bucked against the table, slamming his hips and back into the wood. You could hear the ropes tightening against their bites. He was groaning and shaking from your warm, wet mouth. You lay your tongue at the base of his head and began to lap at his skin in long, slow licks. It was too slow and soft for him to feel any release, but it was enough to drive him past the point of normalcy. 

“Fuck! Fuck, more. More, love. I need more, please. Please. Please! Fuuuuuuck.”

You put your finger at the entrance of his asshole, but you didn’t enter him again. Still, he throbbed in your mouth, just the idea of you touching him inside gave him the same sensation. You pulled him out of you and leisurely massaged his dick again, keeping him right on the edge of his pleasure. Price was literally trembling with every moment of your touch, loudly grunting, unashamed of his behavior. 

Then, you decided to finger him again, taking it away the moment his breathing changed. You put him back in your mouth. Then, you took him out. At one point, you left him altogether, making a cup of tea and drinking it while you sat in his office chair, watching him watch you. Smiling. He thrashed against the ropes. 

He really was terrifying, objectively. Price could kill you in less than a second if he wanted to. He was enormous, muscular, and sharp as a knife. There was no where you could run, and there was no chance of you fighting him off. As you watched him writhe and pull at his bindings, you studied his form. His strong legs and huge ass provided immense leverage against the desktop, bowing the edges of its planks downward - ever so slightly - as he thrust against it. The captain’s wide chest bulged with his mountainous shoulders, causing the rope to whine as it tightened on its knot, the fibers stretching past their limits. Every time he threw his hips down in blissful agony, the whole room shuddered. He was like some sort of beast you’d caught in a trap. A tiger by the tail. 

Finally, you decided to end his suffering, but he didn’t know that. As you approached the desk again, he began to beg you,

“Please, love. Please. I’ll be good. I promise. Please, let me come. I’ll be good. Baby, please…”

There it was. That’s what you wanted. An obedient Price was a rare sight, and seeing him unfold right before your very eyes, like a rose in bloom, relaxing into your will - it was mesmerizing. You wanted to rub your nose in those pliant petals, bend them back away from his honeyed center. You were hooked. 

“Mmm. That's it, baby. Surely, such a good boy deserves a reward, hm?”

“Oh, fuck,” his tone was dark now that he knew what was coming. 

You put your mouth on him and grabbed his balls gently in your hand, sucking him with a strong rhythm, massaging his heavy sack with each thrust of your head. Price wasn’t that long, but his girth was a struggle. You pushed past it, giving the man what he’d been waiting for, choking yourself, pulling off his cockring and letting the blood flow back into his core as you swallowed his head in the back of your throat. 

"I'm gonna come. Oh, my God. I'm gonna fuckin' come, baby. Yes-yes-yes...ahhh!"

The wait was so worth it. With each bob of your head, he seized and panicked. It was as if every suckle was giving him a separate orgasm, and he came like a firehose. It squirted down your throat, hot and salty, and he was screaming for you. You were certain the whole base could hear him, even though they were all the way in the barracks. His legs locked out straight, pulling the ropes tight, and his back arched off of the desk in perfect agony. 

You drained his cock by pulling out the last few drops from his shaft, licking them up like dripping ice cream from a cone. Then, you untied his legs and hands. He lay there, panting, his face twisted in complexity, feeling aftershocks and riding them out, sated and drunkenly happy. 

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, girl, you better start runnin'. As soon as I get my legs, you are in for it.”

You bolted for the door, looking back at him over your shoulder, grinning. He had already rolled off of the desk and was trying to throw on his shorts, stumbling, slowly catching his bearings, quickly getting ready to hunt you down.

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

Read Part 2 here.

[silentheiss]

It happens on a regular morning. Luo Binghe is happily refilling Shen Qingqiu’s cup with tea, his beautiful face open and serene. Shen Qingqiu looks at him and his heart suddenly starts to ache.

His husband, so strong and yet fo fragile when it comes to him. So enduring, yet willing to give up all the poise when cradled in Shen Qingqiu’s arms.

He never asks for things he knows Shen Qingqiu is unwilling to give. He never got his truth.

System!

Silence.

Something hot and angry boils inside his chest. He can’t bare to hide a single thing from his husband anymore, no matter what it entails. Luo Binghe deserves to know he was never hated. He deserves to know he’d be loved in his every manifestation.

System, I’m going to tell him.

Silence.

Welp, here goes nothing.

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu starts.

“Yes, Shizun?” Luo Binghe looks up, pitch-black eye gleaming and eager. He is precious.

“This master needs to tell you something important.” Shen Qingqiu falls silent for a moment, waiting for System to blow up with warning signs. And yet — nothing.

“Is- is everything alright?” Luo Binghe looks around the room, as if checking for threat.

“Yes.” Shen Qingqiu says. “It’s just that this husband has something to say. I haven’t been completely honest with Binghe, and it’s time to fix that.”

Luo Binghe visibly tenses.

“Is that safe?” He asks, carefully.

Ah, his perceptive, intelligent husband. Truly, his IQ is higher than the mountain they’re currently on.

“I don’t know.” Shen Qingqiu admits. “But I can’t stay silent on this matter any longer.”

Luo Binghe shakes his head, dropping his cup on the table. The tea spills across the wood. Neither of them pay it any attention.

“If Shizun’s wellbeing might be compromised, then I don’t want to know it.”

“Don’t you?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “Don’t you want to know why I did what I did?”

A breath Luo Binghe takes is a sharp little thing. Shen Qingqiu’s heart breaks for him, for the thousands time.

Suddenly, the weight of secrets is unbearably heavy on his shoulders. It’s a miracle he can still sit straight — he feels like any second now he’d get crushed into the floor.

“I don’t need to know it.” Luo Binghe relents.

“I think you do.”

And then, Shen Qingqiu starts to talk. He talks and talks, eyes never leaving his husband’s face, because if System decides to kill him after all, his Binghe’s face is what he wants to see last.

Luo Binghe listens. He’s not even crying, which is surprising, but Shen Qingqiu pushes himself to finish the monologue before reacting in any way. When he’s done, Luo Binghe takes a slow breath. Then another.

Then, he speaks.

“I am sorry.” He says.

What! He is sorry?

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims, heart in his throat. “What can you be possibly sorry about?”

“I failed you.” Luo Binghe

“What are you talking about?”

“I wanted to be stronger to protect Shizun, but failed to recognize that Shizun was under attack the whole time.” Luo Binghe looks bitter and ashamed, eyes downcast. “Begging Shizun for punishment.”

Shen Qingqiu is suddenly angry all over again. Punishment! He’s begging for punishment! Insufferable boy!

“You want me to punish you? For being a child who failed to recognize something this master has been purposely hiding?” He demands.

Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu’s eternal heartache, nods meekly.

“A child.” He says, slow and pained. “A bright, eager boy. Sweet, sticky, kind. A child who lived through so much pain, who suffered since the moment he was born yet he kept fighting, and trying, and being good. A child that I failed to protect. He deserves punishment?”

“Shizun.” Luo Binghe whispers. “Please.”

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu mirrors his husband. “Please. Please, never suggest you deserve anything but love from me. It’s not true. It’s never been true.”

Shen Qingqiu is ready for the table to topple over and Luo Binghe to fall on his lap. He catches him with shaky hands.

Cold tea spills all over the floor. Despite heavy weight on his lap, Shen Qingqiu’s heart, for the first time in forever, is light.

[lihhelsing]

Talk Me Down

steddie | 1,7k words | angst | mature

CW: drug use, explicit violence

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 10

Prompt: "Where were you?"

Read Part 1

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It's not like Steve had become a regular or anything, but Eddie was seeing more of him than Wayne lately. Which was... weird.

Surprisingly enough, Steve wasn't the complete asshole Eddie expected him to be. Or he was, but he wasn't pointing his assholesness towards Eddie anymore. 

Eddie preferred to pretend it didn't affect him, but he found himself excited to see Steve. Definitely not like a puppy.

But it was hard to control his facial muscles when Steve came into view. His mouth curled in the softest way possible as soon as their eyes met and Eddie felt it in a way that made him think he wasn't dead inside, after all.

Steve usually bought weed and he usually hung back, looking at Eddie as if asking for permission to roll a joint so they could smoke together. Eddie should say no, something about not shitting where you eat or whatever, but it was hard to ignore the way Steve's eyes shined. 

They shined like someone who was so fucking lonely that being friends with a drug dealer beat any other options. 

Eddie knew Steve just wanted the weed. He kept showing up with different bruises on his arm that made Eddie's inside fill up with anger, and he knew the bliss of the weed helped, so no reason for him to keep his hopes up. It was not like King Steve actually wanted to hang out with him.

Still. Eddie let himself get carried away, and that was his mistake. He usually was someone who kept his guard up for a reason. He knew he was useful because of the drugs, but he wasn't delusional enough to think he was irreplaceable for a shitty town like Hawkins.

If Eddie were to disappear, he had no doubts a different fucked up boy would take his place in no time. Selling whatever drug to the entitled rich kids. 

He's about to go home. The sun is starting to go down and Eddie has enough self preservation to know nothing good happens in these woods after dark. 

It's eerily quiet as he closes his lunch box, the metallic sounds of it echoing and making birds fly out. He has his back to the walkway and that's why he hears it before he sees it. Footsteps. The crunching of leaves. 

Steve doesn't usually come this late in the day, but maybe this is a sign. Eddie's been wanting to invite him over to the trailer. They've been talking about Star Wars, out of all things, and Steve said he was curious to watch and Eddie thinks maybe this is it.

Today is the day he's inviting Steve over to watch Star Wars and smoke some weed. 

He knows it's a bad idea because his heart doesn't understand 'platonic' that easily. And he knows it's a bad idea because his trailer is shitty and Steve is used to fucking golden cutlery or whatever.

But maybe with enough weed Eddie will get away with his too small couch that will force them to sit too close. Maybe with enough weed Eddie will get away with leaning into Steve's space to smell his cologne whenever something funny happens in the movie. 

"You're late," Eddie says, his hand going to his pocket to get a joint. He usually leaves one pre-rolled, just in case Steve shows up. 

He takes his time, too. Puts it to his lips and light it, taking a long drag. Eddie hasn't smoked today and he can already feel it relaxing every muscle in his body. 

He pockets the lighter and runs a hand through his hair before picking up his lunchbox and turning to Steve. He's determined to give him a hard time just to be a bitch, pretending that he has somewhere to be.

"It's rude to-" Eddie's words get caught in his throat as he looks at someone who's definitely not Steve. His mood sours instantly as he looks at... Paul? Peter? 

The guy doesn't say anything, he just keeps looking at Eddie with this intense expression. It's annoying and Eddie doesn't have time for that. 

"Store is closed, man," Eddie says, taking a drag and shrugging, stepping forward. 

Paul/Peter grunts something and now that Eddie's looking at him he can definitely tell something's off. 

"Sorry. I'll be back Monday," Eddie says and keeps walking, stepping to the side so he doesn't bump into the guy.

What happens next is so fast it leaves Eddie dizzy. Paul/Peter rips the joint from between Eddie's lips and throws it in the ground.

Eddie complains with a hey that's punched out of him as the guy pins him against the nearby tree, arm pressed on his neck, preventing him from moving.

"Shut the fuck up," Paul/Peter says and this close Eddie can see his pupils are blown out. "I need more."

This is not Eddie's first run in with some junky dickhead. But usually Eddie's guard is up because he just knows the kind of asshole he deals with. And his first rule is to never get himself into a situation like this because of two things.

One, Eddie can't throw a punch to save his life. His fight or flight instinct usually is just flight. 

And two, he can't shut the fuck up when his nervous. 

"Should've thought of that before sniffing my entire stash, don't you think?" Eddie says and he feels Paul/Peter growling and pushing his neck hard enough that he can't breathe anymore, let alone speak. 

"Shut up. I'll take it if I have to," the guy says and Eddie has no doubts so he drops the lunch box and hears the quiet thud it makes once it hits the ground. 

Paul/Peter lets him go as he drops to his knees and Eddie coughs as he massages his neck, stepping to the side so he can leave. There isn't much left on the lunchbox and he's fairly certain the guy will leave it behind after he figures that out so Eddie can just get it back tomorrow.

Eddie's plan is to leave but as he takes another step he feels a hand wrapping on his ankle and pulling him down. He falls face first on the dirt, scratching his arm on a pointy rock and he feels pressure on his ribs. 

Paul/Peter has a foot on top of him and the motherfucker presses it hard. It hurts more than the sting on his arm.

"You think you're funny, don't you? I should fuck you up so you'll learn to keep that mouth shut." He says and Eddie closes his eyes.

He should have better instincts and he knows he doesn't. Paul/Peter presses on and Eddie swears he can hear a cracking sound as pain floods through him. He yells and maybe he's losing his mind but it sounds like the guy is fucking laughing. 

"Fuck you," the guy spits out and as he takes his foot out Eddie instinctively curls in a ball, trying to protect himself, even if that makes the pain more sharp. There's another long laugh before he murmurs "pathetic" right before he leaves.

Eddie stays down. Doesn't feel like he has enough strength to get up and is afraid the guy's still nearby, waiting to give him more. 

His entire body feels on fire and he groans in pain as he rolls belly up, throwing his arm on top of his eyes. 

Fucking hell. The light is going away quickly now and Eddie knows he needs to get up and leave but he doesn't know if he can. There's a metallic taste on his mouth and he figured he must've bitten his tongue when he fell. 

His arm is pulsing, sticky from the blood and breathing feels like a thousand pins and needles going through his lungs. 

Is he going to die? 

He closes his eyes. Wayne is going to be so mad if he dies like this, before graduating. 

The next breath makes him feel like he's breathing fire. It fucking hurts so much. He groans again, opens his eyes for a second and it's pure dark now. 

Fuck. If he doesn't die from the broken rib, he's sure a wild animal will eat him. He should get up, but as he tries to move, a scream gets ripped out of his chest and he feels like his entire body is about to collapse. 

He's going to stay still for just a minute. And then he's going to get up. No mountain dog will taste his insides today. 

When Eddie opens his eyes again, the moon is high in the sky and the dark doesn't feel as dark anymore, but his body feels broken. His throat is dry, and he tries to cough but realizes how much it hurts, so he forces himself to stop. 

Then he hears it. Footsteps. He knows Peter/Paul doesn't feel remorse, so maybe he came to finish the job. 

Maybe it is better than getting eaten alive. 

Eddie closes his eyes, groans as he tries to move and feels more than sees someone towering over him. 

"Fuck," he hears and maybe he's dead already because it sounds like Steve. "Eddie. Fucking hell. What happened?" 

Eddie grunts as he feels Steve kneeling beside him. He had pictured Steve on his knees for him, but he had hoped for less blood. 

"Shit. Shit. I knew something was wrong. I felt it in my gut," Steve says as Eddie feels hands moving under him. He's about to complain when Steve fucking lifts him off the ground. 

Eddie lets out a scream and then Steve is there, pulling him up and shushing him. 

"I know. I know it hurts, but I'm gonna make it better. Just hang on," Steve says, his breath is close to Eddie's face and Eddie groans, letting his head fall to the side until it hits Steve's shoulder. 

Steve smells good. Like clean soap and his cologne. Eddie must smell like shit and he must be getting blood all over Steve's clothes. 

"Where were you?" Eddie asks. Or he thinks he asks, but he might be delusional. They are moving and Steve is carrying him with little effort. 

"Doesn't matter," Steve says. "But I'm here now. And I'm going to take care of you, ok?"

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Could you please write soldier boy kissing butcher’s sister while they were out in the woods looking for Mindstorm… 💞

Cat’s Out

masterlist

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.0k

warnings: language, spoilers for the boys, references to a character’s suicide

pairing note: obviously butcher’s white, but i still wrote the reader non-descriptive - so she could be adopted, up to you <3

author’s note: i got a request!? literally screamed for joy when i got the notif, i’m not even kidding. thank you anon, thank you thank you thank you!!!

Walking for miles in creepy wilderness, surrounded by people hopped up on V was not your ideal afternoon.

“How much fucking farther?” You grumbled, mostly to Billy.

“This is why you should’ve taken the Temp V; Supe strength,” He replied.

“And risk dying a very painful death? No thanks,” You rolled your eyes.

That wasn’t the real reason you didn’t want to take it. You saw how it changed Billy. How he’d been snapping at you and Hughie, the smallest things setting him off. He’d never snap at you before. You were his baby sister! (Only a few years younger than him, but after Lenny he kept a much closer eye on you; clinging to you as if you were about to pull the trigger too.)

“Is it just me or does Soldier Boy seem a little…high,” Hughie said quietly.

“Y/n, go talk to him,” Billy shoved you forward a bit.

“What? Why me?” You asked.

“Cause you’re the only one he hasn’t been a complete asshole to.”

“Billy-”

“Don’t try to deny it! He complimented your scrambled eggs this morning!”

“Well, yeah…I make good eggs!”

“No, you don’t, they taste like shit! Now get over there and calm down the radioactive Supe who’s definitely high right now.”

“If he kills me I swear I’m gonna come back and haunt your ass!” You grumbled before walking ahead to where Soldier Boy was.

You weren’t actually angry about having to talk to him, you were fucking thrilled! You wanted an excuse to walk next to him, maybe run your hands over his suit to “calm him down.” And of course he complimented your cooking, he’d woken up naked next to you.

“Hey sweetheart, want a hit?” Soldier Boy smirked when you caught up to him.

“Uh, no thanks, Soldier Boy,” You shook your head a little.

“Already said you can call me Ben,” He replied.

“Right, sorry! I just- I wasn’t sure if you wanted Hughie and Billy to know your name.”

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” He shrugged before taking another long hit of the joint he was working on.

“You feeling okay?” You asked.

“What’d you say?” He turned to look at Hughie and Butcher.

“What?” Hughie furrowed his brows.

“Nothin’ mate,” Butcher said. “No one said nothing.”

“Seriously, are you feeling alright?” You asked Ben quietly.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to fully face you. He cupped your cheek and kissed you deeply. Your eyes widened when you realized your brother definitely sees you kissing the (as he put it) very high radioactive Supe.

“Oi! What the fucking hell!” Butcher exclaimed and pushed Soldier Boy forward, causing the Supe to stumble to the ground. “Don’t you fucking touch her!”

“Hey, calm down!” You said quickly, gripping Billy’s coat sleeve. He looked at you, his eyes bright orange.

“This hundred year old cunt just forced himself on you! And you want me to calm down!?”

“I kissed him first,” You replied, Butcher’s eyes widening while changing back to their regular state. “L-Last night.”

By this point, Soldier Boy had stood up and was furious at Butcher. He charged forward and tackled the temp-Supe to the ground.

“Oh come on!” You yelled.

The two men were fighting like stubborn children. They were both too strong to actually get hurt, but strong enough to shove each other around dramatically.

“Fuck you, Soldier Boy! Fuck you!” Butcher yelled as he punched Ben.

You pulled Butcher off of Ben and put yourself between the two.

“Stop acting like fucking morons!” You excalimed. The two men sighed, staring daggers at each other. “You're making me feel like a goddamn pick-me-girl here!”

“I have no clue what that means,” Butcher replied honestly. You rolled your eyes and looked at Ben, he shrugged, indicating he agreed with Butcher.

“Billy, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier about me and Ben, but honestly? It's none of your fucking business. And Ben...” You trailed off looking into his eyes. “Yeah, I got nothing. You were great last night and I hope my asshole-of-an-older-brother doesn't make you think twice before sleeping with me again.”

“Oh, I've thought about it way more than twice, sweetheart,” Ben smirked.

“You slept with him!?” Butcher exclaimed. “Come on, Y/n! Are you fuckin’ stupid!? He’s a fucking monster!”

“Hey!” Soldier Boy furrowed his brows. “I ain’t a fuckin’ monster!”

“Oh, so you didn’t kill a bunch of people these last few days? And you didn’t abuse your team so much they left you to fuckin’ rot!? And-”

“Billy!” You exclaimed. “Stop!” You looked at Ben and could tell Butcher’s words stung. You sighed and continued; “Look, there’s a weird-ass telepathic Supe somewhere in these god-forsaken woods and if we aren’t careful he’ll kill us all. Let’s all calm the fuck down, table this, and if we survive you two can kill each other later. Got it?”

Butcher rolled his eyes as Ben stormed off in the direction you had all been walking. Suddenly a make-shift bomb went off and sent the four of you flying different directions. When you came to your senses you realized Butcher was in trouble.

“Butcher, wake up!” Hughie exclaimed, tapping his face.

“No, no, no!” You mumbled, hurrying to your brother’s side. “Shit, shit, shit! Billy!” You joined Hughie in his attempt to wake up your brother. You then turned to Ben, “what- what do we do? How do we help him?”

“We don’t,” Soldier Boy replied. “He’s gone.”

“No! No, he’s just- how do we wake him up, Ben?”

“Well, Mindstorm put him into this, he can snap him out,” Ben shrugged a little, you let out a breath of relief. “But, he’s about to be dead.

“Wait, just hang on,” Hughie stood up, you stayed kneeling next to Butcher. “If we grab Mindstorm, we make him help Butcher! And then you can kill him! Then you can go to town on him, man. I don't give a fuck!”

“It ain’t worth the risk!” Ben exclaimed.

“Not worth the risk!?” You stood up. “Ben, he’s my brother! Please!” You looked into his bright green eyes with your teary ones. “Please, I- I can’t lose him.”

“Fine,” He sighed. “We find Mindstorm, make him help your brother, then I kill him.”

“Thank you,” You smiled a little.

[ronanziriano]

Augusnippets Day 1 - Gaslighting

The only piece of decoration in Whumpee’s room was the clock.

Everything else was gray and flat and bare. The walls, the ceiling, the floor - plain, cold, gray stone covering every inch. There was the light in the ceiling too, of course, the one that would dim or brighten or turn off completely at regular intervals; and the stiff cot bolted to the floor in the corner.

But besides that, there was just the large analog clock in the center of the wall. Framed in a dark ring of wood, the second hand moving silently at all times, flowing rather than ticking. It was always there for Whumpee to watch. It even had a dim backlight that rendered it the only thing visible at all when the overhead light turned off.

Whumpee had relied on that clock the whole time he’d been stuck here, using it to keep track of the days and Whumper’s schedule, to know when to next expect food or whether it was day or night.

But lately…

He was starting to wonder.

Whumper was meticulous about keeping time. The light went out at ten p.m., then turned back on to wake him at six a.m. Food and water were given to him at the same times every day. And Whumper would give him time limits on tasks, and tell him how long punishments would last. Down to the minute, they would follow the clock precisely.

And yet Whumpee could swear something was off. Sometimes he would fall onto the cot only for the light to wake him feeling like he couldn’t possibly have gotten more than an hour of sleep. Sometimes the time between meals seemed endless, and by the time he was fed again he was near delirious from the hunger pangs in his empty stomach. Whumper would give him five minutes to wash himself and then cut him off before he could do much more than a quick rinse. He would tell Whumpee that he’d have to stay still for one hour, and Whumpee would be left wondering if Whumper had left and forgotten him as his muscles cramped and stiffened and he was sure he would never move again, only for Whumper to tell him an eternity later that his hour was up.

According to the clock, everything was correct. The time on the clock always matched what Whumper said. Whumper would point to the clock. “See?” he would say. “It’s four-thirty,” he’d say, or “It’s been thirty minutes” or “It’s morning” or “Time’s up.” He would always be right.

Whumpee would stare at the clock sometimes, follow the second hand with his eyes, try to count the seconds. Sometimes it would seem to be moving too fast or too slow, but it also could have been his own counting that was off.

He could swear one time he glanced at the clock to see an earlier time on its face than what it had displayed minutes before, but he couldn’t be sure. He hadn’t thought to memorize the time between glances. Whenever he did, whenever he stopped to focus and test it, nothing seemed off. And he couldn’t just stare at the clock all the time.

Really, though, did it matter? Whumper followed the clock. What the clock said was law. He didn’t know how long he’d been there - surely long enough to throw off his internal clock. Maybe time itself moved differently between these walls. He knew the basics of relativity, that time felt slower when you want less of it and faster when you need more. That would make sense. It would explain why sleep kept feeling shorter and punishments kept feeling longer.

He stopped keeping track of the days at some point. Stopped testing the clock and trying to count seconds. Things happened when the clock said they would, and that was the way of it. Seconds and minutes and days passed at whatever speed the clock commanded.

It wasn’t worth questions or suspicions. The clock was in charge here, not him. Whumper always pointed to the clock, and the clock was always right.

@augusnippets

[lavender-romancer]

The Astronomy Tower

Part One Draco Malfoy x Potter Reader

Even though you were Harry's twin you led very separate lives, different friends, and different focuses but one thing you had in common was that Draco Malfoy couldn't stand you. Or at least he acted like that…

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

When Harry got his Hogwarts letter you were surprised to see you didn't also receive one. He said it must have been a mistake andager wrote to you saying that you couldn't be a squib, it just didn't seem like you. You and Harry had always been together, you couldn't remember a time where you weren't but when Harry entered his second year you received a letter from Albus Dumbeldore himself through Harry. He detailed how it hadn't been the right time for you to join the wizarding world but that it soon would be.

You joined the school the following year as a third year and you were already behind. In addition to that stress, you were often seen as the same novelty Harry was when he first arrived. “A Potter twin?”, “Where has she been all this time?”. You learnt to ignore it and decided to meld into the student body as well as you could. You didn't struggle, like Harry when he first began learning magic you showed a great and immediate proficiency. Some said even better than Harry himself.

You kept to yourself for the first few months with late nights in the library being a regular occurrence, learning every charm you could to speed up the process whether that was to carry books or write notes. It didn't take as long as you expected, given that the first three years at Hogwarts were not as advanced. You had a particular penchant for defense against the dark arts and adored astronomy- often finding yourself staring up at stars more than anything else.

After your ability began to show you expanded into the quidditch team and this was your first experience with Draco. After you and Harry had fought for an appropriate amount of time about who would be the Gryffindor seeker during the first game of the season against Slytherin, Oliver Wood had to step in and tell you to “pull yourselves together and flip a knut”.

After three rounds you eventually won and gave a smug smile in Harry's direction. The game was going well for both teams but, always ambitious, you wanted that snitch. You'd never met Draco before now, only heard stories or seen him around sometimes, but that game you were chasing one another in and out of the structures of the Quidditch ground. It was exhilarating as you followed the white hair of the boy in front of you, at one point the both of you ended up above the ground looking down for the snitch. There was a moment when you looked at eachother and it was oddly quiet, looking just past Draco you saw a glint of gold and moved towards him as he looked dumbfounded as you got closer. But you reached out and caught the snitch just past his ear, raising your eyebrow at him and smiling.

From that moment on you were convinced Draco wanted you dead. It wasn't without reason, you enjoyed showing him up after all the bullying of your brother. But he didn't start retaliating until you got into fifth year.

When Draco became a member of the God awful Inquisitorial Squad, he would not leave you alone. When you were slightly late for a class, ate in the library or anything else he would dock you house points. When one day you were using a charm to carry more books and accidentally bumped into him, he took 20 house points! You'd finally had enough of him and decided that in your next class you would partner up with him and ruin his life.

Your next opportunity was a potions class you got to incredibly early. You stood at the desk Draco always worked at, a little etching on the top of the table reading DM 1994 made you smirk to yourself. When Draco finally got to the class he looked incredibly confused why you were sitting where his partner Blaise usually did but let it slide-assuming you wouldn't dare break any rules.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” He asked with a venom in his voice you didn't have the energy to muster.

“Wanted to be closer to the blackboard.” You smiled sweetly at him, hoping he would let his guard down. He looked at you curiously but sat down next to you all the same.

Snape wanted you to create a Wiggenweld Potion which for a class of fifth years was not complicated and more muscle memory. Making it the perfect time to sabotage Malfoy, messing up a simple potion would surely ruin his day and perhaps be explosive…

As you all got started you pretended to look over your textbook whilst pulling your wand out of your sleeve and whispering the confundus charm. You coughed after doing it to try and disguise it as much as you could but as the charm took effect Draco looked too focussed on his “great new idea to make this potion”. If you had done the charm correctly Draco's cauldron would soon be bubbling over and then become slightly explosive, if he just added a bit more flobberworm mucus and turned up the heat.

“Malfoy, it's bubbling over!” Goyle exclaimed almost on cue.

“Shut it! I know what I'm doing!” The ever obstinate Draco insisted. He added 4 more drops of the mucus and then you were both thrust backwards with the strength of the explosion that occurred. An acute explosion of force just as you had planned. You didn't realise the force would send you both back into a wall or that it would hurt so much, but regardless you got what you wanted.

“Malfoy!” Snape bellowed at the top of his voice his cloak billowing in his wake as he approached the two of you.

“Y/n!” Harry called as he ran over to you, crouching at your side he pulled you to your feet and sat you down at his potion station. “What happened?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing….” You tried to hide your smug look but couldn't help it and Harry rolled his eyes.

“It's because of the house points isn't it?” He looked at you with a smirk and you nodded. “Sir, may I take my sister to the infirmary, she feels dizzy?”

“Yes, yes. I need to deal with this ridiculousness here anyways.” Snape looked down at Draco who was sitting against the wall with a spattering of orange over his face.

“You're diabolical.” Harry told you as you left the classroom, he couldn't help but laugh.

“Well, he shouldn't have crossed someone as clever as me, Hermione would have done the same.” You shrugged.

“Will he know it was you?” Harry sat down on a bench at the bottom of the nearest staircase.

“Even if he does he can't prove it, I was in the blast too so how silly would it look if he complained about me. It was his poor potion making skills.” running a hand over your face you looked down at your orange palm, “Oh shit, is my face-”

“Orange. Yes,” Harry burst out laughing and you punched his arm. “I was wondering how long it would take to notice.”

Later that evening you put on the invisibility cloak that you and Harry shared and headed to the astronomy tower. It was a regular occurrence for you but especially when you couldn't sleep, you had never got into any trouble or even really seen anyone but with Umbridge about the worthwhile to take the cloak.

You stared up at the stars, dreaming of Hippogriffs and Thestrals as you gazed. It felt like the only peaceful part of the whole school, even more so than your door room- that you shared with someone who sometimes sounded like a troll as she slept. Breathing in and out deeply you relaxed your brain and let it go blank for a moment

“Well, doesn't my luck just overflow. Another Potter copying me.” You jumped out of your skin but clamped a hand over your mouth so you didn't scream.

“Malfoy! What the fuck?” You hissed and he raised an eyebrow.

“She speaks! My potion saboteur has a voice?” He took a few steps closer to you until you were meters away from one another.

“Potion saboteur? I was caught in that blast too! Or had you forgotten I was injured due to your idiocy?” You lied, surprisingly convincingly.

“You're really going to stick with that?” Draco asked as he took another step closer.

“What else would I say?” You learnt backwards onto the railings.

“Well I know you charmed me, I wouldn't fuck up such a basic potion like that.” Draco walked up to the railings and looked out on the Black Lake.

“Why are you here, Malfoy?” You felt it was acutely important to change the subject.

“I come here every now and then. Used to be my private little haunt but I see you've infiltrated that.” His voice didn't sound angry, just that he was observing your behavior.

“Do you think you own every part of the school!” You said loudly, finally exasperated.

“I could own all of it if I fancied it!” Draco returned even louder.

Then a door opened and the two of you went wide eyed. Thinking as quick as you could you pulled Draco closer to you and wrapped you in the invisibility cloak. In your haste you had tripped backwards and pulled Draco with you, he was basically sitting on you. Professor Sinastra came upstairs from her office and looked around for a bit but soon went back down. You pushed Draco off you and he let out a very displeased noise.

“Did you really have to sit on me?” You hissed, taking off the cloak and holding it bunched up in one hand.

“So the Potters have an invisibility cloak?” Draco raised his eyebrow again and it enraged you.

“I will end you Malfoy,” you stood and stepped closer to Malfoy until you were almost chest to chest. The anger in your blood was beginning to be replaced by a feeling in your stomach you didn't get too often.

“I would love to see you try.” He whispered, his lips parting slightly. You noticed how his hair shone in the moonlight and you felt like making a comment that it looked like he was balding but you chose not too.

“I might be quieter than my brother but do not mistake that for a lack of experience.” You turned to leave but Malfoy put his hand on your hip and turned you back to him.

“If you want to meet me back here again, I wouldn't oppose it.” It was a tone of voice you had never heard him use before, like for the first time he was afraid of rejection.

“Why would you want to meet me here?” You asked, not resisting his hand.

“I think you're bright enough to figure it out.” he said softly before squeezing your waist and walking off.

next part

[mirapril]

Hi, I would like some Castlevania headcanons please! About Alucard having a younger sibling but the sibling is still a child :D

OMGGG MY FIRST REQUEST!!! Ty sm for the request <3

so sorry I didn't see it until now 😭

since gender wasn't specified ill make reader gn

also this is my first time writing headcanons so I hope this is good enough😭

Feel free to give me any feedback or constructive criticism <3

Alucard x child!sibling!gn!reader Headcanons

fluffy brother/little sibling stuff

word count: 557

warnings: none, a little bit angsty at the end

When BigBrother!Alucard met you for the first time he swore on his life that he'd always protect you no matter what. no man nor beast will ever be able to harm you. not while he was around

While your mother was treating people of the village and your father was down in his lab researching, your big brother would play with you to keep you from causing any trouble

You’d play things like hide and seek together, which wasn’t really fair since he was as way more experienced with his powers than you are at your young age :(

"Adrian, this isn't fair! you're way older and faster than me!"

"You're the one who said you wanted to have a race y/n. You'll never get faster if you don't try you know."

When I say he’d do anything for you I mean it

He’d especially get into trouble with his father for you

On one occasion he had taken one of your fathers “pretty” science tubes but ended up knocking something important onto some also very important blueprints

Your father kept a very close eye on you both when you were around his lab after that

BigBrother!Alucard is also in charge of making sure you don’t get yourself lost in the woods around your home

You’d purposefully leave the house without telling anyone just so your older brother would have to find you

You loved when he had to chase you around big trees and across wide ponds with rocks surrounding them

Of course, he could easily catch you but usually he’d let you have your fun

He did have mini heart attacks whenever you’d run too fast around the steep and slippery rocks

His main worry was you falling and hitting your head on a rock or falling into the river

"Y/n! Watch where you're running! You don't want to run into another tree do you?"

Also BigBrother!Alucard is basically your tutor

Your parents taught you too, but you preferred your brother's teachings because he made lessons more fun for you

There was a time when your whole family went on one of your fathers' trips since he loved to travel so much

You got to see all sorts of sights together :)

For obvious reasons, your family didn't get out much, so it was a nice change of scenery for the four of you

After the death of your mother and father Alucard was the only one you had left

Alucard was worried about how your little brain was going to process such a loss, but he did his best to comfort you

It was hard for him to act like not only a brother, but a mother and father for you

You were very much brighter than most children at your age so you saw how much it was taking a toll on your brother

You tried to comfort him the best you could

"Don't worry Adrian. I don't feel so lonely because you look so much like mama! It's like I have you and her in one person :)"

He usually just laughed it off when you said strange things like that

He was also sad that you were literally growing up way faster than regular children should

He missed when you were small enough for him to cradle you in one arm

i got sad at the end cuz i was listening to music and i thought about reader and alucard growing up together :(

[liketwoswansinbalance]

What if Evil Rhian and Evil Rafal interacted? Give me a good show, boys. 🍿

Note:

Expect violence and all-around ugliness.

Also, thanks for the prompt. This was a fun one!

⸻

Rafal: The one thing I can agree with Vulcan on is that we should've kept the name: The School for Evil and Good.

Rhian: What.

Rafal: You heard me. Clear as a death knell. Vulcan should've killed you while he had the chance. Instead I'm bedeviled by you, a foul nuisance spawned from "Vulcan's stithy."

[To clarify: In his Shakespearean insult, Rafal is now referencing the mythological, Roman god Vulcan, not Vulcan of Netherwood.]

Rhian: Well, you're a raging egomaniac, for someone who thinks himself the finest puppetmaster in the Woods despite being inadequate when set next to me.

Rafal: As if you're not one. And such language from the so-called Ever. Dean 'Headache' would blush.

Rhian: All right, let's say I descend to your wretched level, if only to vanquish you: you left me in the Doom Room, to rot!

Rafal: If you weren't a traitorous snake, I wouldn't have left you. Besides, you went behind my back to the Kingdom Council to frame me! To launch a war campaign against me without a jot of forewarning. I should have done worse while you were still vulnerable, hanging there, numb.

Rhian: And yet, I overheard you say to Midas that your aim was to take over all the Woods? What say you to that, devil brother? If I win and take over, I'll string you up by your vocal chords.

Rafal: [derisively] That's anatomically impossible. You're new at this, aren't you?

[Rhian lunges for Rafal, and they get into an all-out duel to the death, executing remarkable feats of arms, considering the pitiful weapons they're armed with.]

⸻

[During an intermission afterwards:]

[They are black and blue, battered and bruised all over, sustaining minor cuts, each gasping for his breath, and they are seated on chairs, beside one another.]

Rafal: I should've brought my poleaxe, or even a halberd, so I could fracture your skull properly. Strike out the brains and dash them on the floor. [shakes his head.] Would've been great fun to ram a longsword through your ribcage, too, had I brought it along. [He twists his letter opener around idly.] This meager, little thing isn't suited for thrusting; it barely did any damage.

Rhian: [nursing a long, open slice on his forearm] I think you did enough with that letter opener. [He sheathes his dagger.] Though, someone should've died, even if you failed to shear me in two. What gives. What's the matter with us?

Rafal: [glances over at the Storian] Looks like someone or some thing wants us alive to provide the entertainment. I'm not opposed to trying again though. Why don't we? I'd love to rip out your heart. It's not as if it's getting regular use anyway.

Rhian: And I wish to wreak the same harm upon you, with your tongue besides. I hate hearing that grating voice. So monotonous. You could be a punishment for others in Hell where you belong. Your lectures are torture enough.

Rafal: Well, you won't have to hear me much longer. Not that you ever listen. Your dismembered ears will make excellent trophies of war. I could have them plated with gold—gold on the outside, rot on the inside, just like your tainted soul. [He smiles to himself, satisfied, and then, fishes through his jacket pocket and finds a long piece of thread in a clump, trying to untie it, so he can use it to garrot Rhian, or at the very least, choke him effectively enough.]

Rhian: And I'm sure your bones would make a lovely tea set, once they're pulverized. [Rhian reaches over to clock Rafal upside the head with a book.]

Rafal: [leans out of reach, rolling his eyes] Child's play. [He shoves Rhian off his chair and that devolves into a second fistfight on the floor, more vicious than the first, in an all-out brawl as they forgo all dignity.]

Rhian: At least I have HONOR! [he bellows to stall Rafal, while attempting to summon his dragonfire.] I'll scorch you like I would a snowman!

Rafal: [raising his voice as he throttles Rhian in the neck, punctuating every sentence with a punch] You? Honor? You're the least honorable man I know. At least my Evil's out in the open, for all to see. Everyone knows I use underhanded means. Everyone knows I'm a two-faced backstabber. And they rightly take precaution and obey me. [spoken through his teeth with a clenched jaw.] My Evil's a publicly-acknowledged fact. Can't say the same about you, you who went to the Kingdom Council, who indelicately skirts around Ever customs despite claiming to be one. Which makes me the "honorable" one, by your twisted definition.

Rhian: How dare you— [as he rakes his nails across Rafal's face, drawing blood that clots immediately due to their self-healing, as per the original oath, leaving shallow, stinging wounds that knit themselves right up.] I will outlast you!

[Don't ask me how they can still heal despite breaking their oaths. The Storian derives sick entertainment from mindless repetition and senseless, brutish violence. That's why.]

[And, the Storian doesn't bother to write because this is a regular occurrence with two Evil twins—it's unworthy of a tale, infighting not balance. And so, the Pen just watches and waits and watches...]

[anarcho-smarmyism]

"While the daimyo and samurai of Tokugwa Japan were away in Edo, their wives and concubines remained behind in their rural compounds. Sometimes in groups of up to twenty, they were confined to their estate and forbidden from having sex with people other than their lord or partner. Even when the daimyo was present, they remained mostly isolated from the outside world. But this isn't a story of men enjoying the pleasures of the floating world while women and other AFAB people meekly awaited their return. Visual sources from the period tell us a very different story. As their male partners slept with women and wakashu, the wives and concubines are shown in prints and paintings masturbating, sleeping with male servants, seducing travelling salesmen -and having sex with each other.

Japanese erotic prints are awash with dildos. AFAB people are shown alone or together using harigata: dildos made from wood, leather or horn, sometimes hollow, equipped with a waist strap for use with a partner or an ankle strap for use alone. . . The prints also often have dialogue, giving us more insight into these imagined scenarios. In one 1801 print by the artist Chokoyosai Eiri . . . two people express their arousal and excitement. One wears a large dildo strapped around their waist, and holds a shell-shaped container of lube; the other strokes the dildo in anticipation. The captions detail their conversation. The person wearing the dildo says, 'Seeing as we're going to do it like this, I'll put lots of the cream on it. So really make yourself come. Without the cream this big one would not go in.' Their partner replies, 'Hurry up and put it in. I want to come. I want to come five or six times without stopping.'

Eiri's print is representative of a genre of erotic pictures called shunga, a term that translates directly as 'spring pictures'; but they were also called warai-e, 'laughing pictures'. As the name suggests, they were sold as much for entertainment as for erotic purposes. They were read alone and communally by adults of all ages and genders; given as wedding gifts, kept as a superstitious charm to prevent fire or ensure a samurai's safe return from war. Readers could buy them in shops, on roadside stalls, or from travelling peddlers, or borrow them from commercial libraries that made regular visits to homes; booksellers didn't keep them in back rooms or under the counter, but displayed them openly alongside non-erotic works. Though the Japanese government banned erotic books in 1722, visual prints and paintings were exempt, and even the book ban was only sporadically enforeed. The relative political and cultural isolation of Tokugawa Japan allowed shunga and erotic books to flourish, unaffected by the sensitive moral and religious norms that kept a tighter lid on erotic publications in Europe."

-Before We Were Trans: A New History of Gender by Kit Heyam

[charlidos]

I've always wondered if Viggo and Orlando ever did any interview together. Turns out they at least did one! Found in the Russian edition of Bravo from January 2004, an interview I think was conducted sometime around Oct-Nov 2003. Viggo, Orlando and Elijah were interviewed together.

New York, Regency Hotel on the prestigious Park Avenue. Elijah Wood appears first. We have to wait for the cute Orlando Bloom and the cool Viggo Mortensen. [The reporter chats with Elijah while waiting.] At this moment the door opens quietly and Viggo and Orlando enter. Viggo: Sorry! Orlando: Yes, please forgive us! We were chatting over lunch… BRAVO. No worries! We were just talking about the Internet! Orlando: Oh God! I can’t say anything here, I’ve never had a computer. BRAVO: How do you get fan mail then? O: What I love most is regular, handwritten letters. V: Me too. Most of all I like handwritten letters. Already from the handwriting one can learn something about the character of the sender. BRAVO: Elijah, you are very close to Sam in the film… Elijah: What??? Okay, now I can pull the skeleton out of the closet: we are gay (laughs). The relationship between Frodo and Sam is very important to the film because without Sam's help, Frodo would never have made it to Mount Doom. V: And without Aragorn, Frodo would have died in the first part! (Laughs.) O: And without Legolas it wouldn't be entertaining at all. Isn't it great how I killed a huge elephant in the third part, or what? BRAVO: Orlando, were you really allowed to keep Legolas' bow? O: Peter Jackson, the director, gave each of us a gift from the set. I received my quiver and a bow, but Legolas's real bow broke on the penultimate day of shooting so I have a completely different one! V: As befits a true King of Gondor, I have kept Aragorn's crown for myself. E: But what could be cooler than the “ring of all power” that I received?

[Translated with the help of google, so not very exact...]

Love, LOVE that V&O apparently were out eating lunch together, eating, chatting, losing track of time. Enjoying spending time together too much, having infinite things to talk about, staring deep into each other's eyes...

Also love that they have all these things in common. For one, this whole "hating the internet" and "refusing to have a phone" they both professed for many years. Instead they want to write very long letters (to each other). Probably written in the most beautiful style, and, for Viggo, including lots of art. While Orlando's are long, written quickly but full of sincere emotions and little hearts doodled everywhere.

These two have a lot more in common than you might think at first glance.

[halfbakedideas]

ikea furniture

The Doctor attempts assembling IKEA furniture without their sonic screwdriver after making a bet with Donna. Is it really cheating if he's using it to locate screws?

--x--x--x--

inspired by this post by @whatsfourteenupto.

i had this finished over a week ago but then just, forgot to type it up. it's been nearly a decade since i've put together IKEA shelves so if this is entirely the wrong way to do it, don't blame me.

--x--x--x--

The Doctor was in the living room with an IKEA shelving unit on the carpet in front of them, or what will be a shelving unit once the pieces have been put together. He still had a desk to assemble too. Both the desk and the shelves, along with a couple of other bits of furniture, were the product of an IKEA trip that had also resulted in them bringing home far too many meatballs (Donna’s words) or not enough meatballs (Rose and the Doctor’s words), it entirely depended on who you asked.

They had started off with just using the sonic to assemble it instead of the Allen key that came with the set. The keyword here was ‘started’, as Donna had come downstairs just as they were finishing with the first layer and promptly stolen it off of them.

“Oi! I’m using that!” he protested.

“Not anymore you’re not,” she said. “I bet that you can’t assemble this entire shelf the normal, human way without cheating and using the sonic,” Donna challenged.

“I bet that I can,” The Doctor retorted. “And I’ll have it built in twenty minutes,”

“We’ll see,” Donna went to head to the laundry before she turned back around to face them. “I thought that the sonic doesn’t do wood, so how come it works on IKEA shelves?”

“It doesn’t, but it does do particle board,”

To the Doctor’s dismay, the redhead kept the sonic hostage in the laundry with her. So they set about hunting down the Allen key that seemed to have mysteriously vanished into thin air between opening the box and now. Once they had found it, he returned to assembling the shelves.

They had claimed that he could have the entire shelving unit built within twenty minutes and while that was an accurate measurement, it was only accurate if he was using the sonic. But without it and using a normal screwdriver instead (the Allen key had disappeared for a second time and had yet to reappear), it took far longer than twenty minutes. It took about five attempts at five different screws for the Doctor to get the hang of using a regular screwdriver; they couldn’t remember the last time he had used a non-sonic screwdriver for anything.

And it seemed that no matter how much they screwed this level it just didn’t want to be held together like it should, making the entire unit lean dangerously to the right and it remained leaning to that side even when he pushed it the other way.

Donna was pulling a fitted sheet out of the washing machine when she heard the sound of the sonic whirring from the living room.

Their sonic was still in her pocket? So there was no way that they could be using it.

She patted her pockets down to double-check and yep, there was the sonic.

Well he’s lost the bet anyway, it’s been longer than twenty minutes.

Donna abandoned her laundry for the moment and headed back into the living room, to find the Doctor using another sonic screwdriver for what looked like searching underneath the sofa? Why?

This sonic was mostly silver and had a yellow light-crystal-thing on its end.

The mostly-assembled shelving unit was lying on its side on the carpet.

“I’m not cheating!” he told her, when he finally noticed her standing in the doorway, looking up from where he was peeking underneath the sofa.

“You sure about that?” Donna asked. “And it doesn’t matter, you’ve lost the bet anyway. It’s been longer than twenty minutes,”

“Definitely not cheating. I’m using it to track down a screw that vanished under the sofa, not to put that together—” he stopped. “

She watched as a screw rolled out from underneath the sofa and towards the sonic.

“I’d say using it like that is still cheating, you’re still using it to help you,” she disagreed. “

In the end, forty-seven minutes after they had made that bet with Donna, the Doctor finished with the shelving unit. They had well and truly lost the bet but at least most of the furniture for the library was finally up?

Hang on.

“Doctor?” Donna called out. The Doctor stuck his head out into the hallway.

“Yeah?”

“Why — how — are the shelves green?”

[chocoshrooms]

:: EYELESS JACK GENERAL HEADCANONS ::

• i do not own the image above •

_____________________

:; very, very strong demon. around 6 1/2 -7 feet tall and built. he has huge muscle mass but you can’t really tell unless he wears tight fitting clothes (which is rare)

:; sharp teeth that’ll tear through your flesh, which is a given considering his curse of being a cannibal. but, when he goes completely feral, his teeth get longer and spread apart from each other to make room for more (food🫀) much like this GIF of IT lol

:; his tongues do shift too in order for him to take in more food. i don’t really have an amount on how many tongues he has, but i’d probably go with three. since he has a facial structure of a human, his other two tongues have a special spot in his mouth where they sit (kinda like a little pouch) & really only come out in his feral mode/heats. when all three are out they do get crammed in his mouth so expect them to be out when he’s feral, he’ll drool a lot too!

:; beautiful, beautiful man… got the face of a goddess but he doesn’t think so. his mask stays on 99% of the time and we all know what it looks like. it’s always off when he showers (and it’s not like anyone would be in the bathroom with him to see), and he takes it off for bed. jack doesn’t sleep a whole lot though so it is rare to see him without it

:; the black goo leaks from his eyes continuously. it’s warm to the touch and a little acidic but not too much to burn holes through skin, just leaves a bit of irritation if it gets on anyone else. since jack normally keeps his mask on, it leaks into the mask holes and has degraded the mask just a little (jack re-carves his mask & does take good care of it trying to keep it from degrading since he wears it constantly)

:; jack’s senses are much higher than a human.

he can hear a rabbit hopping through the first a mile away

he can smell the granola bar toby has kept in his jean pockets the past week

he can (surprisingly) see a far distance away

when he touches things, he can feel deeper into them. he tried to be gentle when touching, too, since he is more powerful and can easily break someone in half if he wanted to

with taste, it kinda goes in with smell. like if you smell something you can almost taste it? kinda like that but jack can literally taste it lol.

:; jack can smell poisons and other harmful things too which helps keep him out of danger

:; with these heightened sense though, jack does get overwhelmed. if too much is happening at once, he gets anxiety and has to leave the room. he gets a sensory overload and needs to calm himself for a while. he tries to avoid this from happening because it does affect the functionality of his abilities, but with how many creeps go in and out of the manor, it’s kinda hard

:; i could see jack having his own little cabin out in the woods for when he needs time alone. it’s mainly used for what’s stated above and his heats! though jack does enjoy alone time, he does enjoy being around the other creeps but only to watch them. he likes to study them when they don’t even know it. id say he keeps little logs of each creep just cause he can. he finds it interesting to see them living their own lives

:; jack does wear his black hoodie, but he has multiple! he has regular t-shirts, sweat pants, jeans, all that, too. he doesn’t wear the same thing every day even though it may look like it

:; since i mentioned heats earlier, i’ll go into it a just little bit! jack can feel when his heat is coming, he’ll start getting a bit irritated, extremely hot, he’ll actually get cramps from his body growing just a bit more, his tongues come out of their pouches so he has excessive drooling, his nails are kinda like a cat. they retract but tend to stay out during heats, and so much more! (i’ll have to make a hc on his heats) but, when he feels all of this happening, he’s off to his cabin for a couple weeks! his heat usually lasts a whole week but he will leave a week in advance and stay a week after to be sure he’s in the clear. the heats come twice a year though so for about two months out of the year, jack is gone!

:; this isn’t really a jack headcanon but when jack is gone during this, someone else like Nurse Ann or Dr. Smiley takes over his duties at the mansion.

:; jack is very quiet and reserved unless spoken to. he’s a really good conversationalist, he just doesn’t put himself out there to speak to anyone unless he knows them very well

_____________________

HELLO! realistic headcanons for jack and heat headcanons for him will probably be out soon, too. these are all the general i can think of for now but will most likely come up with more later! thanks for reading & hearting❤️ it gives me so much motivation! -🍫🍄

[isavsi]

i am actually curious (and take your time with this) whats your interpretation of Jeff? like if you were Jeff's creator, how would you write and design him?

YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW HAPPY THIS ASK MADE ME

alright i'm gonna rant A LOT

i gotta say, it's practically impossible to make a version of a character without having some type of influence from others art. i've consumed a LOT of fanart lately and i might have taken some inspiration from these users: @/shatteredankles (idk if they have a tumblr, pls let me know!), @/antlergrave, and @/imalovernotabiter

their version of jeff and the way they draw him really gets me. like, idk how to explain. it's a work of art LITERALLY. i want to eat it. 13yrs me would SCREAM. also i love how we all collectively decided to give him piercings

i know every jeff's art with piercings it's a banger!!!

and as far as i love people drawing jeff's bald ass i don´t think i'll ever be capable of

yeah it's realistic but it's so fun to draw him emo and conventionally attractive actually i'm sure he would look horrible in my art without hair

this is the first sketch of him (i wanted to have a good reference bc i ended up doing a full piece that you can see here)

about his design

i wanted to give jeff a more dramatic smile scar, no nose, no eyebrows etc. although i didn't like how my style portrayed him without eyelids so...

AND his body is covered in burns

i also imagine him being around 20 to 30 yrs and still in his emo phase (i love emos)

about his story

im more familiar about the jeffrey woods' story than the hodek's, so i think im going to kept that???? i think

ive read something recently about him having central nervous system depression, paranoid hallucinations and bipolar disorder, and it makes total sense. also that he's more of a sociopath that a psychopath. he might and will resort to violence and hostility due to his past experience

bc of his hallucinations, it's hard for him to tell what is and isn't real

he craves stimulation constantly to distract himself about his own mind. that stimulation being killing or alcohol

also, he doesn't have any supernatural powers. he's a regular human. and has a really bad eye sight, like he can fight well in close combat but in anything else he sucks

aaand that's it

i don't think that most of what i wrote has sense bc i was suddenly dropping any idea i had in my mind