#the black ones tend to be much softer

[crowsyart]

Ritsuko is a verreaux’s eagle like her mother, meaning her feathers are naturally black Just like in the series, she uses dye

This is her usual pattern, since she goes for efficiency over all else

The parts that are blonde are usually the parts that are shown

If she’s wearing a dress or something or going out she’ll dye or shave her leg feathers (verreaux’s are a booted species, like golden eagles)

Also for my sake in this au the birds have sort of dinosaur-like hands on their wings

[therevengeoffrankenstein]

i love defending pete wentz against the mania haters who call him the music industry's mr krabs bc he sucks in other ways.

[delusionalmultilingual]

Bakugou cries in front of you, and you only.

In the first few months of your relationship he keeps up a hard and cold barrier, of course getting his usual hot-headed self when someone even slightly irritates him, but you calm him down eventually.

It's not like he has no emotions other than anger, he just had difficulty showing them, even if he really really wants to, he can't.

So when he's hurt one of his friends greatly, he slams the door of his bedroom, laying on his back, on his bed. He even locked the door for good measures, but you had a key anyway. It's not like he couldn't keep you out anyway.

It's when his eyes start to water and he can feel a lump stuck in his throat, it's when he messages you. He normally doesn't use punctuation in his texts, but it's when he's upset he does.

'Come here.'

That's all he messages, even if you haven't messaged him back, he knows you've seen it, or you've heard it from someone that he's slammed his door.

In his past he used to cry a lot too, but only at home and when his mum or dad was with him. His mum would comfort him the best she could, after all she did care about him. Even if he was a bit of a jerk to her sometimes.

She would wrap him in her arms and squeeze him tightly, pecking his forehead softly, running a hand through his hair. Her words would be a lot softer than her usual yelling behaviour.

When he burnt his hands from using his quirk too much she would scold him before comforting him, tending to his wounds before sending him off so she can get back to whatever she was doing before.

"Katsuki?" Your voice sounds out into his pitch black room, the hallway light shining underneath the small crack of the door. Knocking quietly, and trying the knob, it didn't move at all.

The doorknob clicks and you can only just see inside of his room, pushing the door open gently, Katsuki was already sitting back down on his bed, looking away from you. The door clicks closed when you push it back. Leaving the room in darkness again.

All you can hear is the small sniffling coming from him, your steps quickly shift to the foot of his bed. Crawling towards him and giving him a hug, bringing his head to your chest and whispering to him.

"What's the matter, what's got you so upset babe?" Your soft words make him settle into your skin instantly, a small patch on your shirt becoming wet with his tears.

His voice was still harsh as he spoke, but his tears and upset state made his speech croaky when he spoke. "I fucked up babe... M' a shit friend."

"Don't talk down to yourself."

Your words were still soft as you lifted his face and squeezed his cheeks, looking into his tear-stained gaze. He hides his face in your neck and lays down on his back. Bringing you with him and you huff a strained groan, rubbing his hair and breathing in his scent.

His body shudders against yours and your heart aches for him, he squeezes you tighter before letting you lay down next to him, wiping his tears and looking up at his ceiling. Still avoiding eye contact with you.

Sitting up and tying your hair back into a low bun. Your legs cross and you stare at him in silence for a good minute or two.

"I said something about Shitty Hair's past. When he told me. I‐" His voice cuts off as he breathes down the lump in his throat. "I told him it was stupid to think like that."

You stay silent, not wanting to say anything that might anger or upset him more, all you did was nod to his words.

His eyes well up again, before rubbing his eyes with his hands and sobbing again, his hands and arms covering his face so you couldn't see him like that. He hated it when you saw him cry anyway, knowing you didn't mind but the embarrassment in the near future got to him.

Sliding next to his head, you run a hand through his hair and stay quiet. He was quiet, which was unusual of him. But this was a different circumstance, on that you have seen before but never really shown.

You knew your words would comfort him but wouldn't help with the situation, so you sit there and let him cry it out.

Even if he would end up sorting it out he probably wouldn't apologise, or at least give a shit apology. He would go back to you and fall asleep in your arms, asking if he fucked up anymore, to which you would reply that time would tell.

God he hated when you did that.

This was completely based off an image I saw on pinterest, its not the best work I've done but I do have more planned in the future (・ε・｀ )

Now officially edited and proofread

Should I make this a story?

[kisskuni]

“who did this to you?”

↳ he finds you injured / “who did this to you?” trope - [diluc, kaeya, wriothesley x gn!reader]

tags: injuries + mentions of blood/reader gets hurt. swearing. threats to kill people lol.

notes: wooo first genshin post.. i need to catch up on this game

diluc ━━━

the way adelinde stood outside of the winery, hands playing nervous with each other and shifting her weight, told diluc that something was wrong. his brows were pinned as he approached her.

“everything alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm but there was a hint of worry underneath. something was wrong. something was definitely wrong.

adelinde cleared her throat before speaking, “y/n arrived about half an-”

diluc didn’t need to hear the rest. he moved past her and into the house, calling your name as he moved up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. he was already rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt; what exactly was wrong he didn't know, but he was more than willing to get his hands dirty.

he knocked on the door to your shared room only once before clicking the door open. there was a nurse next to the bed, but she wasn’t tending to you at the moment. she looked a little startled as he entered, but he paid her no mind.

he was kneeling at your bedside in a second. the nurse had taken a few steps back to give him space. he held your hand in his, his lips pressed against your knuckles.

“are you okay? what happened?” he asked, a little breathless, his eyes moving over you. there was a bandage wrapped around your abdomen, but he didn’t see any other injuries.

you nod and swallow dryly. “yeah… yeah ‘m alright.”

"bullshit." he mutters under his breath, eyes wandering over the wound. he wants to get a better look at it, but he knows the bandaging is fresh and he doesn't want to disturb it.

"i'll be fine, diluc... honest."

"who did this?" he asks, his voice suddenly a lot lower than before.

"...what?"

it almost startles you, the way small, almost unnoticeable flames flicker along the skin of diluc's forearms. his voice is calm, but strained, when he speaks, "who?"

"it was just some treasure hoarders, i'm-"

"where?"

"they're dealt with, diluc."

he stares at you for another few moments, eyes watching your face as if searching for some sort of sign that you were being dishonest. finally, he shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. this time, when he speaks, his voice is much softer and caring than before.

"do you need anything?"

"i'm okay. some water, maybe?"

"of course," he hums, moving to press a kiss against your forehead. "just get some rest."

kaeya ━━━

you were supposed to be back an hour ago.

and yet, you weren't back.

he hates that he's pacing, hates that he feels so helpless. he should go find you. he should tell jean he's leaving, that he's not going to work for the rest of the day, that he's going to the outskirts of mondstadt to-

"kaeya!"

his head snaps up, his gaze falling to you. you were limping, why were- oh. there is a gash across your hip, bloody and staining your pants almost black, fading into red at the edges.

he's at your side as quickly as he can be. he's holding your shoulders, a silent plea not to move, not to put weight against the wound.

"shit- what happened? who did this to you?"

you swallow thickly, panting slightly. "just- i ran in to some people-"

"what kind of 'people'?"

"people that got taken care of, kaeya. i promise."

he stares at you for another few moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw. then he nods and moves to your injured side. he grabs your arm to drape it over his shoulders and around his neck, his other arm wrapping around you and pulling you into him.

"we're getting you inside, and safe, and then i'm going to make sure every last one is properly dealt with."

you shake your head at him, but don't say anything. you're grateful for the support on your leg and you weren't about to complain. slowly, he helps you hobble back to the city and slowly deposits you into an infirmary bed.

a nurse ushers kaeya away, and he spends the next twenty minutes pacing outside of the building, his arms crossed. finally, the door opens, and the same nurse sticks their head out of the door, "kaeya? you can come in."

he moves back into the building, maneuvering around people and equipment to kneel at your bedside.

"hey..." he says softly. his hand comes up to your face, back of his hand running affectionately across your cheek. "you feeling alright?"

you give him a small smile. "i'm fine."

"you are," he affirms. "but i still intend on finding the sons of bitches."

you frown at him, though it holds little heat. you study him for another moment before you give him a resigned sigh, "near cape oath."

he presses a kiss against your forehead, already standing up, "i'll be back before dark, my love."

wriothesley ━━━

wriothesley did not consider himself to be a violent person.

today, he was about to be.

it was the way you stumbled into his office, looking so worn out, blood draining down your face and down your chin. your lip was busted and a gash broke the skin near your temple, crimson trickling down your face and dripping onto his floor.

he’d been by your side before you could even utter a word, letting you lean against him and forcing you to sit on the floor. his thumb ran over the blood, as if trying to convince himself that this was real. that this had happened. likely in the fortress, no less.

had it been? no. there was no way. no one would harm someone so blatantly important to the duke… right?

he was pulled from his thoughts by a gentle grumble from you.

“give me a name.” he said, without really thinking about it. his voice was stern, and cold, and left no room for argument.

“what?” you blinked hard, seemingly trying to ground yourself.

“shit.” he cursed under his breath, helping you stand back up. why the hell you had come looking for him before medical attention, he’d never know.

still, he held you against him and helped you to the infirmary, whispering sweet affirmations under his breath the whole way. his string of ‘you are gonna be fine’s and ‘everything is gonna be alright’s dissipates as he slowly lowers you into an infirmary bed.

he straightens, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl twisting his face.

“who did this to you?” wriothesley asked again, this time more firmly.

you shake your head. “is… okay, wrio-”

“give me a goddamn name.” he asks again, and then his voice softens. “please.”

you watch him for another few moments before nodding and letting the person’s name fall from your lips. a muscle in his jaw ticks. he looks down to one of the melusines.

“i’ll be back in an hour. you tell me if they so much as twitch a finger weird.” he orders. he doesn’t wait for a reply, his jaw set as he moves out of the infirmary.

[charliemwrites]

Awooooooo!

Content: Voyeurism, Dog Urination, Implied Non-Con Touching

Your dog is weird. Just.. just weird. Like, all dogs are weird. They have their quirks and their oddities, silly babies in fluffy bodies.

Johnny though…

He snuggles up in your bed every night; you don’t even bother trying to kick him out. He’s presses up tight against you, head almost on your pillow. Have to start sleeping in a shirt because one too many unfortunately placed cold nose bumps…. Yeah. But that’s fine. The fuzzy space heater is worth it.

(So what if you sort of wake up sometimes and half-dream its skin you’re snuggled up to. If you imagine a more human rasp to the quiet snores by your ear. If the tongue on your cheek is softer and smaller than you’re used to….

Your dating life has been dry for some time.)

Johnny pees in every room of your house at least once, but that’s not entirely surprising - he’s an intact male, after all. (Something you’re trying to, heh, fix. Though the appointment mysteriously keeps getting moved or cancelled.) thankfully, though, once he’s “marked his territory” he starts asking to go outside.

And that’s where the weirdness begins.

The first time you let him out off leash, he shoots off into the woods and only returns once he’s done. You panic, feel so stupid and irresponsible, near tears by the time he gets back. When he sees you upset, say on the porch steps, he darts to your side and leans into you until you calm down.

You stop worrying so much about his little “trips”. Means you dont have to clean up after him to keep the yard tidy after all.

The first time he bounds off into the woods and doesn’t come back after a few minutes, you almost go searching. But.., but well he’s a good boy. An hour later he comes back, scratching at the door.

You’re not sure what he’s up to and it makes you anxious. Don’t like the idea of an “outdoor” dog. All of yours have been in-home pets kept in sight at all times. You’re scared Johnny’s going to get hurt or bitten or hit by a car.

But he always comes back healthy whole.

One hour turns into two, then three. Entire mornings, only returning in the evening to climb into bed. Eventually a whole day. You have someone install a doggy door big enough for Johnny to slip through so that he can come and go as he pleases.

You get used to having a pet that’s only around sometimes, though you sniffle that you miss him when he’s gone. As if understanding, he’ll always lick at you, comforting.

The other weird thing - he demands to climb into bed while you’re doing “self care”. Again, dogs don’t get human social boundaries. He’s allowed on the bed so why is it that he wouldn’t be allowed up even if it’s not bedtime? It’s understandable dog logic, even if you have to stop the first several times it happens.

Keeping him out isn’t an option. Even if you manage to shut the bedroom door on him before he wriggles inside, he makes such a ruckus. Barking, howling, knocking over the trash and scratching at the door. You almost step directly into a puddle of pee once.

You just keep the lights off, close your eyes, and try to ignore the odd brush of fur or gust of air from his nose. Pretend he’s not there at all; and not staring the way he tends to.

Not getting off just isn’t an option. You make your peace with your dog too dumb to even turn away.

(You also learn very quickly to wash your toys as soon as you’re done. Can’t even wait to catch your breath. Calling him nasty makes his tail wag. You know it’s not reasonable to think he’s doing it on purpose.)

“Johnny, drop it!”

Instead of doing that, he drops his front half low, a lacy black pair of underwear in his teeth. He snatched it right out of your laundry basket while you were trying to start the washer.

“I’m going to turn you into a pair of boots. Put those down!”

Chasing a giant wolf-dog for your panties is ill-advised but what are you gonna do? Let him shred your underwear?

“I wanted to wear those out tonight, you bastard!”

You’re supposed to have a date. At this rate, you won’t even be able to shower, never mind get ready. Johnny’s been a nuisance all day, ever since you got off the phone with your mom this morning, updating her about your life and plans for the evening.

Determined, you give up and go to finish the laundry - only to hear a crash and a yelp. Johnny’s knocked over the mirror and stepped in the glass.

“Oh, baby boy,” you groan. “Dammit, John-Bon.”

You text your date for a rain check, then call ahead for the emergency vet. Huh… your first aid kit is much better stocked than you remember.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[katsu2ji]

(a few of) my bakugou headcannons!

a/n: this is me coping with the ending of the manga </3 KATSUKI I MISS YOU 😞😞

i think he would much prefer softer music (off the top of my head: keshi, soft radiohead perhaps??, cigarettes after sex, etc.) as opposed to the loud music i often see him paired with—kind of a mix of whatever he likes but mainly lots of soft/chill rnb!!

++ i believe he would be a kendrick fan tbh!!!

i also think he would listen to music A LOT especially when overwhelmed

speaking of which, he gets overwhelmed super easily in social settings—he tends to go quiet when it comes to a group of people, conversing better when one on one (HE JUST LIKE ME FR!!!)

he’s the guy on campus wearing those apple airpod max headphones 24/7; his are black ofc!!

dude is the DRYEST texter ever. he makes you look like you’re begging for your ex back or smth it’s so bad (😭😭)

unless you’re a handful of very specific people, don’t expect a text back for at least a day or two…or whenever he feels like it.

he doesn't carry a bag sometimes and somehow manages to stuff everything in his pockets…his pants sag BAD...

takes his skincare super super seriously and does it every single night without fail. it is a non negotiable for him.

in general he cares about his appearance a lot; not in a self centered or an insecure way, it's just super important to him. if he knows he looks good, then he feels good, which directly impacts his performance in practice/battle—naturally, he has to make sure he's the best looking one there.

he’s a jjk fan!!!

he is the BIGGEST musical hater on the planet QUICK EVERYONE ACT SURPRISED!!!!

he’s SO MEAN when he's hungry like. to the point where you can tell when he's getting there because he just starts going OFF (more than usual, ofc).

he takes his coffee super sweet. he tried to be one of those black coffee guys, but now he just resents them because he can’t stand the taste LMAO also the sugar boost helps his quirk!! that’s the excuse he uses anyway…

aquaphor’s most loyal customer!!! he has at least one on him at all times, even when fighting

he’s super sensitive to smells and you can tell when he’s smelled something he doesn’t like because it’s immediately written all over his face—i’d also say that due to his quirk, he has a fear of constantly smelling bad because of his sweat

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[vidavalor]

Crowley and Plosives

@kimberleyjean asked in my recent post on rings and apostrophes why it is that I think Crowley pops the consonants of words at times, as in "BooK. shoP", and if there is a technical term for what he is doing. There is.

Let's talk about Crowley's exaggerated plosive sounds--as well as his little "mmm" thing-- and what this all probably has to do with his hiss.

In order to talk about why it likely is that Crowley pops specific consonants when he speaks-- with it being more pronounced at certain times than at other times-- we first actually have to talk about his hiss.

Crowley's hiss is less of a separate sound and more of a slur of what's known as a sibilant sound in phonology-- it's the sound of the letter s or the letters sh. If you say the word "sash" aloud, you're using sibilant sounds twice over-- once at the start and once at the end of the word. While Crowley could probably just hiss like a snake when he's in human form, we never actually hear him do that. We hear a hissing sound manifest in his sibilant sound when he is speaking-- which is to say when he's being a human over a snake. The same is true of Lord Beezlebub, whose fly buzz sound affects their speech. In their case, their sibilant sounds turn into the letter z to mimic a fly (as in, "It izzzzz written" on the tarmac in Tadfield in S1).

Sibilant sounds are part of a group of sounds known as fricatives, which are all softer in sound. They are grouped together based on how your mouth and throat move in forming the sounds and how much air is needed to move through them and in what way to say them. The letters k, p, t-- and sometimes d, b and g, depending on the word and the position of the letter in the word-- are "hard" sounds and are known as plosives. These are the sounds that Crowley tends to pop or to which he gives exaggerated emphasis in his speech. My theory as to why is basically that David Tennant decided that Crowley would feel the hiss is weak and react to it by popping his plosives to seem more intimidating, which really does go along with Crowley's psychology well.

Crowley's hiss is a feature of what of him is a snake and, as a result, will show up in the times that a snake would hiss. That means the slurred sibilant sounds show up primarily in situations in which he feels a sense of vulnerability. Snakes hiss when they're stressed or under duress and they hiss if you try to interact with them while they are digesting a big meal. In demon snake terms lol, it means Crowley is most likely to hiss in exactly the moment he does not want to (when he's anxious or afraid, which is usually when around other demons or angels). He probably cares a bit less about slurring sibilant sounds around Aziraphale after a big meal--or a "big meal"-- and Aziraphale actually probably likes it a bit as it's his life goal to keep that snake blissssssed out but the hissing around other people thing?

Crowley hates it. He haaaaaaates it. There is evidence of Crowley hating the slurred sibilants in a few scenes.

One is that when he shapeshifts into a monstrous snake to scare the guy at Tadfield Manor in S1, Crowley doesn't hiss at him-- he roars. Like a lion. (Lions are also on the arms and legs of his reason-for-therapy-alone throne chair in S1.) And this is his reaction when he makes the guy faint from fright:

He loves it. Ah, control...

Because Crowley is a lot of things, really-- he's a snake, yeah, but he's a big cat, he's a crow, he's a nightingale, he's a black swan, he's a horse... we could go on. To control the hiss when he wants to is to feel in control of himself.

We all know how much Crowley seeks as maximum control over how he's perceived by others as he's capable of generating. It's a normal response to all the trauma he's suffered. It's probably worth considering as well that Satan's attacks on Crowley render him incapable of controlling his own mind and body for the duration of the assault. He doesn't have the option to speak or, if he does, the words aren't his own. These are bodily autonomy violation issues and the result is that Crowley hates anything that makes him feel weak and the fact that he has in the hiss what amounts to a nervous tic that is a symptom of his anxiety disorder makes him feel out of control of himself.

Another example of him hating the hiss is when he intentionally slurs the sibilant s sound while mocking Heaven:

Crowley is not just talking about composers in this scene in general but using first-class composers as innuendo for sexual partners and mocking Aziraphale's potential choices if he gets stuck in Heaven for all of eternity. He does so by combining soft fricatives and his slurred sibilant hiss, showing how he equates the hiss with a sense of what he considers weak and unattractive.

The other scene that suggests this-- and shows how Crowley pops his plosives as a counter to the hiss-- is actually the end of the apology dance, when Crowley pops a t so hard, it's almost its own word: "You were righTTTTTT."

The apology dance scene and its hard T as the final note of the mock-submissive dance also makes it clear that, unsurprisingly, Aziraphale knows what the popped plosives are all about. Plosives are, well, explosive. They have harder, louder, more dramatic sounds. It seems like Crowley pops them both as a measure to counter his hiss and as a measure to try to control it. He's taught himself to respond verbally with intensive plosive popping instead of hissing, which is also why we don't actually hear him hiss all that often.

One of the only times is almost immediately after this:

Because saints and demons preserve us, it's Master Crowley, right? But then Satanic Nun!Nina interrupts them and Crowley starts slurring his sibilant sounds in sarcastic response to Aziraphale telling him that he didn't need to put the woman in a trance.

"Oh, oh, 'xcccussse me, ma'am, we're two supernatural entities looking for the notorioussss SSSSSon of SSSSSatan. Wonder if you might help us with our inquiries?'" How he controls the sentence, though, is really interesting. The extra-exaggerated sarcasm of the last sentence helps him regain control enough that the final 's' in 'inquiries' isn't hissed and he's back in control of it. He's also almost amping up the sibilant sounds he does slur sarcastically as well. Part of why it comes out here is that he allows himself to be less guarded with his speech in front of Aziraphale.

We've actually only heard him hiss his sibilant sounds about three times, if memory serves me correctly, and two of them are related to Heaven and Hell-- the two moments I mentioned above. They're examples of him trying to control-- and then sarcastically wield-- the hiss. (Particularly "celestial harmonies", which he did entirely intentionally.)

There's also one more positive instance of a sibilant slur though and that's this: "Yessssss, the 'Reign of Terror.'"

The long hiss of a "yesssss" in this scene is not one that bothers him because drawing out a sibilant sound during a sexy conversation with Aziraphale is a very different situation than one about or involving Heaven or Hell.

If you look back on the series, there are probably no more popped plosives than in Crowley trying to ascertain just wtf Gabriel is doing in the bookshop wearing nothing but their tartan bedsheet.

"WHaT. Arrre. You. DO. ING. In. THis. BooK. ShhhOP?" 😂

Crowley was literally terrified (and also losing it internally because he just jumped and basically screamed at the sight of Gabriel) and there's a very brief "shhhh" in "bookshop" that starts to slur and has him practically shouting the "OP" to finish the word without full-on hissing. It's a scene built around the plosives, really.

Gabriel probably understands Crowley's manner of speaking more than "Jim" did in this moment as Gabriel has his own affected way of speaking. His defensive speech has the same need for a sense of maintaining an appearance of control and dominance but is usually less about emphasizing plosives and more about conveying a sense of power through a perceived sense of "manliness" in a smug, corporate sort of way. The way he says "but as The Almighty likes to say: 'Climb Every Mountain'" in that 'CEO saying the bullshit company slogan to a junior employee at the company retreat' sort of way.

Gabriel usually uses intimidation through lower, more frighteningly measured tones that carry the sense that if you pissed him off, he would explode and it would not be pretty for you. It's what makes the moment when he does actually a bit shocking and that's when you hear the force come out in his speech a bit.

He pops plosives in the curse and owns the 'fucking' in that sentence as a result. That is top shelf use of a curse word, in that it's selective enough and pronounced in such a way as to give it real power. You know he's going to lose this round because he can't win it but you're still kind of afraid of him-- maybe for the first time.

But Jim? Jim has none of this.

Jim is a guileless lovebug who doesn't understand why Crowley would feel the need to speak-shout at him and pause dramatically so his "I. AM. DUSTING." response is priceless. Jim over-emphasizes all of the sounds because he doesn't know why Crowley only emphasizes the plosives and he pauses dramatically between the words more out of confused repetition of Crowley's speech pattern to try to relate to Crowley than out of understanding that it was meant to intimidate him. He uses the same sense of theatre that Crowley uses without any context as to why Crowley feels like he has to and, as a result, it guts Crowley's whole attempt to intimidate him to compensate for his own feelings of vulnerability.

Crowley and Aziraphale both are fascinated by words and the evolution of language and they speak every language in the world. This means that they both have the ability, in theory, to correctly speak in any accent in the world, which is necessary to be able to pronounce the words in every language. Between that and his self-conscious, trauma-adjacent, plosive/fricative issues, as well as just being interested in how things like pronunciation informs the evolution of language, Crowley is more aware than most of how he sounds when he speaks.

But there's also that his unique way of speaking-- when combined with his low, rumbly voice-- can be very sexy and he's aware of it, namely because it's clear that Aziraphale thinks his sounds-- all his sounds, along the full spectrum of them-- are hot. As a result, we also have scenes in the series wherein Crowley will sometimes heavily emphasize plosives-- and fricatives-- around Aziraphale just for fun because to do so has become a part of how he speaks and because the angel likes it. An example: the "lotsss of GooD DeeDsssss" bit of this:

That Aziraphale likes the full range of Crowley sounds is symbolic of the fact that Aziraphale likes the full range of Crowley, full stop. As a result, Crowley plays around with how he enunciates words, often drawing out parts of them in ways he knows Aziraphale will enjoy. His "oo" and "ou" sounds are often elongated into an "oooh"; he softens fricatives to a breath at times when speaking more gently. At other times, he amps up his RP accent and emphasizes certain words in a sentence with pauses and heavier enunciation ("canopy", "astonish") to maximize their appeal and to draw Aziraphale's attention to them, usually also for wordplay-related reasons ("did you smite them with your wrath?" in Lockdown, for example.)

Then, there is that part of their language thing also appears to be an interest in onomatopoeia, which are words that have derived in language not from a connection to other, previously-existing words but from the sounds of Earth. Crowley, in particular, loves onomatopoeia, and likes to weave words that are that into his conversation-- "frou frou", "whoop", etc.. The word "hiss" is onomatopoeia. Unlike other etymology posts I have written or will write, there is no "derived from the Old French x" or "from the Latin x" or the like for the history of "hiss"-- it's just literally that people heard a snake hissing and said that sounds like "hssss" and so we're going to call it a "hiss."

While Crowley has issues with his anxious snake hiss, though, he actively likes to make the pleasurable sound the humans (and angels and demons) can make-- the ultimate in onomatopoeia. The word that is actually more his anti-hiss than his popped plosives:

"Mmm."

"Mmm" is derived from nothing more than the human sound of contentment. It's an often almost involuntarily hum of pleasure-- the human sound of satiation. There is no other history to the word but that and there has not been since beings began to exist.

Crowley makes the sound unconsciously but he also makes it consciously at times when speaking with Aziraphale because he knows Aziraphale likes the sound of it. Case in point: the very obviously intentional "mmm" in the Edinburgh phone call (and the heavy, exaggerated plosives emphasis on what followed it):

"Mmm" is also something of an etymology joke as well because, at last count, I think I had at least twenty-five instances in a note file here about intentional wordplay between Crowley and Aziraphale that focuses on frequently confused words and phrases (to founder vs. to flounder; whoop vs. whoomp; wittering vs. withering; to get a wriggle on vs. to get a wiggle on, etc..) which I bring up mainly because, especially when written, "mmm" is frequently confused with "hmm", and the etymology of "hmm" is pretty funny from a Good Omens perspective.

While "mmm" is a sound of pleasure, "hmm" is a sound made of consideration, a kind of pause in a sentence to acknowledge something that was spoken and to either suggest you're giving it thought or to show hesitation over what was said-- or, possibly, both. While "mmm" is a contented sound derived from the human body, "hmm" is onomatopoeia because it is imitative of a different, very specific sound in nature...

...it comes from the droning sound of buzzing bees.

To Crowley and Aziraphale, "hmm"-- the sound of hesitation and reflective contemplation-- is a sound of the insects that are symbolically the angels and that's amusing to them since the humans frequently swap it out with their signature sound of pleasure while Crowley and Aziraphale do not find much about Heaven very arousing.

Crowley's new favorite hobby in S2 is making dirty jokes that are going over Muriel's head-- some of which, like his handcuff innuendo while getting Muriel to take him to (literal) Heaven, are a bit on the surface. Others, though, like the frequently confused words wordplay of using "mmm" in protest of Heaven instead of "hmm" in the "mmm, bees" moment after successfully getting one over on the angels-- are examples of just wordplay jokes that Aziraphale would have found funny that Crowley was amusing himself with in the moment.

Crowley is definitely not the only one of the two of them amping up those mmms though. The only bee who has his attention is playing right back...

...and the mmm thing is not exactly new, either...

...like for him to mmm his way through an entire barbecued ox five minutes after this...

Original post that prompted this response:

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 12. To be taken over by power

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: fluff, angst, a bit of smut

— WORDCOUNT: 3.3k

— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine @slytherins-heir @babyofneptune @localravenclaw @missbingu @wo-ming-bai @torossosebs

One uses power by grasping it lightly. To grasp with too much force is to be taken over by power, thus becoming its victim.

— Bene Gesserit Axiom

She awoke feeling sore but satisfied. As her mind caught up with her body she realised it was because Feyd had slept on her all night. She opened her eyes to the pale light of the morning and a swath of black sheets tangled all across their bodies. He laid in her arms, his head over her chest, his arms around her waist, his legs curled up innocently. When she stretched and arched her back to put her blood in motion Feyd didn’t stir but his arm tightened around her waist and a hot puff of breath tickled her chest. His face had lost in sleep all of the meanness it had during the day... She smiled and brushed her thumb across the edge of his lips. His lashes fluttered and he grumbled, pouting like a child.

“Don’t wake up,” he mumbled. “I want to sleep some more.”

“But you’re not sleeping now, are you?”

“Then why am I having such a pleasant dream?”

“Do you tend to dream of me?” she giggled.

“Yes. Before I met you,” he answered with a little yawn before his mouth shut tight again and he tightened his arms around her.

She hadn’t had much time after their ‘playing’ with the Gom Jabbar last night to think of what his resistance said about him, although she had realised between shivers of excitement that his endurance was remarkable. She knew he loved pain and that served as an easy enough explanation, but perhaps there was a little more to her na-Baron.

“Since when?”

“A while,” he muttered, nuzzling into her chest. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I wasn’t going to…”

“Yes, well. You’re awfully curious about it.”

“It’s a curious thing, isn’t it?”

“I regret telling you,” he sighed with a sense of finality and she knew he’d say no more.

Her hand found a natural place to rest atop his head and she thought quietly about what he’d just said as she scraped gentle scratches on his scalp. He purred against her like a kitten and wrapped his soft, cold body around her, pushing the sheets away until he was all she felt.

She found herself quite languid that day from when they got out of bed all through to the evening. Feyd took her with him for a meeting with his mentats and drafted a few messages for Giedi Prime — although he asked her to leave the room for the last one, the one he wrote to his uncle — and before she knew it they were having dinner together again. She had almost forgotten all the bad memories associated with that room, that table... She sat closer to Feyd now and felt less fear about it, and what she had gained in calm he had gained in happiness. He smiled more often through the day, enough for her to catch it, and glanced toward her when he thought she wasn’t looking. His gaze was so heavy she could almost sense it on her skin.

“So what did you dream of?” she asked after she finished eating.

He looked at her and kept on chewing, jaw flexing quietly, and pretended not to understand what she meant. He wore softer clothes today — a black Harkonnen robe that covered his whole body and made him that much harder to read. He moved quite naturally in it, unusual for one so used to armour. She smiled at him but refused to indulge his pretence of ignorance.

“You know what I mean,” she said with fondness.

After a lingering glare, he turned his attention back to his plate and busied himself with eating, even if his plate was almost empty.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said at length.

“You’re shy…”

“So what if I am?”

Her smile grew gentler at his admission. It was a rare man who would admit to it without feeling ashamed, even if he sounded a bit defensive.

“I am allowed to be.”

“Yes, you are,” she said. “But I want to know anyway.”

“We all want things we can’t have.”

“Not you, though. Not the Governor of Arrakis.”

“Why not me?” he asked, turning his sharp eyes toward her.

“Well, what do you want?”

He pouted and turned to his plate again, swirling his knife around the leftovers.

She looked at him and kept looking for long moments. He had skilfully diverted the conversation from what she had asked to something else and yet both ends of the conversation were connected. He was being childish, one didn’t need to be a Bene Gesserit to know that. She asked herself what it was about his dreams, or about what they’d done last night, that had turned him so. The answer presented itself rather quickly.

She reached out the small distance and placed her hand on his. He stilled immediately, his grip limp and weak and dead beneath her touch. Gently she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles and brushed her fingers across his soft pale skin. Like a shadow his gaze came up to meet hers and in his eyes were pleas he did not dare voice out. Before long she had risen from her chair and sat in his lap, hands cupping his tense face to brush away the tears he couldn’t spill.

“What do you want, hmm?” she quietly asked, her whisper touching his skin.

Feyd closed his eyes and breathed a deep and heavy sigh, fighting against everything his uncle had probably told him about the Bene Gesserits, about women… The question itself had no purpose. She knew exactly what he wanted. But she wanted him to admit it to himself, to her, and set free those weak and traitorous emotions — longing, loneliness, and pain. What he wanted was both a mother and a lover, a figure in his life unlike any other, a vessel for all the care he had inside of him with nowhere left to spill. She brushed a finger across the dark circles underneath his eyes and traced down his face towards his lips. He was as open as a broken book, a battered gate, a hungry mouth to feed, and she would give him everything he wanted.

“Do you want me?” she asked with a knowing smile.

Feyd frowned, his pride still in the way of him admitting just how vulnerable she’d made him. It almost broke her heart.

“How do you want me?”

His hands left the edges of his seat to come around her waist and hold her. “In every way,” he muttered, opening his eyes but still not daring to look into hers.

“But you know I’m yours,” she said with a barely concealed tease in her voice.

“No, not like that. I…”

She cupped his jaw and let her finger linger on his lips in a way she knew would warm his blood. Feyd sighed and kissed her caressing hand and then his arms around her pulled her in until he could sink his face into her shoulder. She cupped the back of his head and held him.

“I want to be yours, too,” he whispered.

She closed her eyes, a thin sigh of relief escaping her, and she fought back a smile. “I know, I know,” she said with all the soothing she could muster, her hands petting the back of his skull.

“But you won’t have me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true…”

“Is that in your dreams as well?”

He didn’t answer. She kept on distractedly petting him, cuddling him while sitting on his lap and tried to decipher meanings from the way his breath fell on her skin and the tremble in his arms around her.

“Let’s go to bed,” she said.

They went to their shared room together and he sent the guards away before closing the doors behind them. She hugged him from behind while he undressed and laid her forehead on his back. Feyd paused with muted hope but kept his thoughts to himself. She’d come dangerously close to the core of him the night before, cracked him open with pleasure, with pain, and supped on the bitter centre. What she set in motion had the momentum to get her out of there, to save her from the desert planet and out of Harkonnen hands, if only she made sure to fan the flames aflutter in his heart.

“Don’t pretend,” he said, his voice low and sad. “Don’t pretend you care or that you like me.”

“Is it because I hurt you too much last night that you think that I don’t —”

“I just know it,” said Feyd as he stepped out of her arms.

Should she contradict him? Could she? He scared her when he gave in to his darker feelings. It made her feel like she lost control of him. But the prospect of him being wrong scared her even more… She walked toward the window and hugged herself, watching the night fall on Arrakis. Already he was slipping through her fingers and if she only closed her fist he’d slip much more. He was ruled by his emotions but it was a hard task to accept that she was a bit like that as well. He’d never properly grown up, and neither had she, and just like he wanted to escape the constraints of the Barony… She desperately wanted to get away, and knew he was her path toward it. As she frowned at her reflection in the thick shadowy glass his shape appeared behind her, a ghost through the dark. He hugged her from behind much as she had done before but he had shed his clothes by now and his naked arms curled up around her. He rested his head against her back.

“I want to tell you,” he started quietly, “but I know I shouldn’t. I’m not as dumb as you think I am.”

“I don’t think you’re dumb.”

“No, you don’t think much of me at all, do you?”

“That isn’t fair…” she said, turning in his arms to look at him. “You’re the one who always leaves me behind. Who has me walk out of the room. You don’t trust me —”

“Because you’re not trustworthy. You say you’re my Bene Gesserit and you let me do things to you that you despise, but deep down —”

“You have no idea what I really think and feel.”

“There it is,” he slowly rasped, his smooth brows casting shadows over his tired eyes. “You don’t think me capable of understanding.”

“No, I know you are very capable,” he said, her hands tightening around his arms. “You lasted an admirable amount of time with the box. Whether it’s because you were tested before or because you like pain, it doesn’t matter. It’s… more than anyone I’ve ever heard of. And your dreams... Your dreams come true, don’t they?”

Feyd pulled away from her as if he could hide in the shadow of the setting sun, but her hands still gripped him and his arms were still around her waist and even if he could have hidden he was all too clearly seen by her.

“Not all of them, I hope,” he muttered.

What is he afraid of? she asked herself. From the sad and worried look in his eyes and from the way he held her she could only guess it was a fear of loss. That was what he’d admitted to earlier, wasn’t it? He wanted to be hers. He feels rejected… Unwanted, she realised. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Sure, she’d given him everything he asked for, both the pleasure and the pain, but fulfilling his baser needs had only opened up his mind to what he really wanted: to belong.

Her grip tightened around his muscled arms and she leaned in to kiss him, but for some reason, she couldn’t. Feyd waited breathlessly for her to close the distance and she never did. The only way around him that she knew was to manipulate him, and she couldn’t do that anymore. Not to the young na-Baron with so lost a look in his blue eyes. She couldn’t pretend to love him, not even to save herself. So she let go of him, withdrew, and turned around. She barely took a step before he stopped her. He slid a finger through the lacing of her dress, pulled her back, and started to undo it.

“You know, I can’t help but respect you even when I hate you,” he whispered roughly. “You teach me new forms of pain each day we are together.”

She smiled to herself. “Do you prefer the type of pain from yesterday?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Frankly? Yes.”

She laughed and heard Feyd chuckling behind her, although there was a string of sadness there. His fingers worked quickly to undress her and he pulled her back into his body, their skin sticking to each other’s. His embrace didn’t last long before he took her hand and led her to the bed.

She let herself be guided, allowed him to take control in a way she hadn’t since she was a child in schooling, taught to move and breathe and think by the Proctor Superiors, only this time there was no design about it. She had nothing to learn, nothing to gain by obliging him, no motivation to pretend. She found herself sitting down before she even realised she’d crossed the room and her eyes searched for Feyd, finding him seated on the bed beside her. His gaze was focused on her neck, her lips, the way her hair fell around her shoulders, and slowly his hand trailed her back in something of a caress. She shivered and then his attention came to her eyes again.

His lips parted, pink and full and boyishly beautiful, but he changed his mind before he said a thing. She wondered what he’d been about to say but it was clear even without words: he was afraid of her, nervous that a wrong move or word misspoken would make her leave. He was overly cautious as he trailed his fingers down her back and curled them around her waist. She let him kiss her without any complaints or attempt at seduction and took the gentleness he offered. And she kept her eyes open throughout to look at his silky lashes, the tender pallor of his face, the way his brows would crease, and found herself admiring him for the first time ever — not for all his qualities, not for the carefully cultivated end results of centuries of breeding, but for his delicacy, his frailty, the way he seemed at times so breakable. She cupped his cheek and leaned into the kiss, surprising him into a moan. She felt his full lips curl and his tongue lap at her skin and then she pulled away. Feyd’s eyes were dark and drowsy, drunk with the closeness of her.

“What did you dream of?”

“You still want to talk about that?” he frowned, sounding quite betrayed.

“No, it’s not to know it. I just want to make it real.”

He bit his lip and sucked in a breath that trembled when he let it go, and around his eyes, she could see the crease of worry.

“I’ll tell you if —”

“No,” she said. “No more games, no transactions or conditional surrenders. Tell me only if you want to.”

He leaned in again and crushed his lips to hers, hands tightening around her waist to pull her body flush to his. Without a thought she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, knees brushing clumsily against his.

“I don’t want to tell you,” he whispered against her mouth, his eyes soft and pleading. “But I want it to be real…”

When he kissed her again he did it with a bit more pressure until she laid back down. Feyd held his body atop hers suspended without breathing, letting her hips go to thread his fingers through her hair. She grew drunk on his attention, the way he held her, the desperate way he kissed her, on how she could almost taste his thoughts. Her hands started feeling hot and itchy and she soothed them by brushing them across his skin. His thighs were softer than they had any right to be, his hips were lean and smooth, and she didn’t get to feel his body and higher because he started making his way down her own. He sucked the sweat off of her neck and tasted the murmur of her moans, he licked across her clavicles and nibbled on her bones, he placed sweet kisses on her breasts until her nipples rose... He smiled when his lips found them already erect and he opened his eyes to look cockily up at her.

She watched him breathlessly as he lavished attention on her body so transparently proud just to see her react to what he was doing. There was an animal simplicity to it that felt like a betrayal of everything she knew but once she saw him like that she couldn’t look away. However seductive his plush lips looked suckling on her nipple, however strong his body, stretched across her own, muscled, pale and gleaming like the statues of old, he was more than anything else dear to her because he was just a little boy. Needy and eager to please, playing with her the way his thoughtless heart dictated. She brought a hand up to his head and gently scratched his scalp and his lips parted from her breast to sigh. Eyes still closed he licked across her nipple, rolling it until it was lathered in his spit. A snake of fire coiled in her stomach. It made her squirm.

Feyd moaned into her flesh and his hands came to her thighs. She tensed up, remembering so many rough handlings — from both him and her — but he touched her as gently as if she were made of glass. And as his kisses moved between her breasts, over her heart, trailing down toward her tummy, he parted her thighs so softly that it made her shiver. He took his time brushing his cold hands across her skin, going higher and higher slowly enough that she could stop him if she wanted to. When his fingers reached her core he turned his playful eyes up at her and smirked. He held her gaze as he licked her stomach with a silent promise and trailed a finger through her folds to part them. She allowed herself to blush as she looked down at him, forgetting herself completely for a moment, living only through the softness of his lips, the sleek movements of his tongue, and the proud look in his eyes. Her first instinct was to question him, to dig into his ego and find out what he planned, but she quieted that part of her and waited.

“You’re this wet for me?” he murmured, his lips right above her mound. She could feel his breath tickle her where she was most sensitive. He sounded playful and proud and there was an expectation in his voice that was inescapable. She had to answer.

“Yes…”

He buried his face between her thighs but not before she saw how wide his smile was. His hand tightened on her leg and then she felt something brush up against her ankle. A pale blue eye looked up at her, gauging her reaction with hungry anticipation, and she realised it was Feyd showing off how hard he was as he rubbed his cock against her. Her nails curled up against his scalp halfway between a caress and a scratch and he giggled. He was being so sweet with her that she could almost fall in love.

“Come up here,” she whispered, her head tilted lazily against her shoulders, her hair a messy halo on the bed.

“Not yet,” he rasped, peppering little kisses up and down her thigh. “I’m going to taste you first.”

[idolomantises]

Favorite character to write and draw in both of your webcomics?

Bugtopia

Favorite Character to Draw: Sorrel. His design is one of my personal favorites and it's really fun drawing certain expressions, especially ones that contrast his cynical personality. he's also the only Bugtopia character who regularly cycles through outfits. He never wears the same thing per episode. I also love the way his big, black moth claws contrast with the softer design.

Favorite Character to Write: Sorrel, Milan and Jasper (though I cant say too much on jasper yet).

Alluded to above, Sorrel is a very cynical person, but he fronts it with a very ditzy and manufactured persona. He's very selfish and can't keep a relationship, but he also has a love for films and art in general. He's also an overly protective big brother. It's also just funny writing his over dramatic moments. If his acting isnt above 110%, he'd rather be dead.

Milan is like... i mean this in the most affectionate way possible, very autistic and anti social. If Sorrel fronts his behavior with pretend friendliness, Milan is straight up hostile. She doesn't have friends, doesn't go to parties and despises her co-workers. I'm a big fan of characters who are clearly internalizing an issue and its fun writing moments where you can see the gears tick in Milan's head where she tries to register certain interactions. She's definitely going to be my most controversial character (I'd say Cale and Spike will be, but people tend to be more forgiving to male characters than female), but it will be fun to see if people are willing to warm up to her. Girl is a hot mess, but she's MY hot mess.

Monsters and Girls

Favorite Character to Draw: Powers, drawing pissed off expressions are my favorite and powers has a resting "i dont wanna be here" look. I also enjoy drawing her armor.

Favorite Character to Write: I know I said on the other account that Sera is my favorite to write for, but it's really a toss up between Powers, Sera and Lili. They're all so weird and wonderful to me. but in terms of the shorter, gag comics, Sera is is my favorite to write for because she's a million years old and still doesn't know what to do with a hot wife who loves her.

Sera, unlike Powers and Lili, kind of shows her whole personality, so she's also easier to write for. Powers and Lili have a lot of barriers they put up, so you actually don't really see the full range of what they're like.

[sorryimdyingrn]

SCAREDY CAT (Severus Snape x FEM! Reader)

Summary: Y/N, Snape's assistant in class is easily scared and tends to overreact when someone creeps up onto her. What's going to happen when Snape decides to do so?

Warnings: Smut, improper use of the Incarcerous spell, Sub Snape, Dom Reader, handjobs, FEM! Reader, idk what else to put there, Idk probably incoherent English in some places.

Oh man I really am doing that. For the last few months I have been bringing myself to this moment trying to put some words together but this is the first time I'm actually succeeding in doing so! I hope you won't cringe to death and excuse my poor English as it's not my first language ❤️

A normal work day. Nothing out of ordinary and nothing signaling the things that were about to happen. The students were acting like students, other Professors doing their job sometimes stopping in their busy tracks to say Good morning and Snape shooting her those weird looks. They weren't hate by any means. They were more like... Fondness??? Who knows. No one really saw Snape looking at someone with fondness so no one could tell.

Y/N calmly stood by one of many desks in classroom, cutting up some Boomslang's skin to fill up a jar in Snape's storage after someone stole it. The swift movements of her wand made a quiet swish, leaving the ingredient cut into perfect strips easily fitting into the jar.

The scene was peaceful, no one to interrupt, no one to say anything and definitely no one to look at the way her hands moved like Snape liked to do while she was doing her job.

Severus Snape... Y/N's thoughts drifted to the dark and broody Potions Master. His cold aura was intimidating and she couldn't lie - if definitely turned her on a bit. Sometimes she liked to imagine how his elegant hands would feel like against her skin, his lips against hers, his dick in her hands as he looked up at her with pleasures in his eyes and him whimpering out her name with-

Y/N shook her head to get rid of the dirty thoughts clouding her mind. The last thing she needed was being horny and distracted right now. She sighed softly and went back to her work.

Snape stood silently in the doorframe, looking at his assistant with a softer gaze. As much as he would rather gnaw his own leg off than admit this, he liked her. He liked her a lot. Her happily glimmering eyes, her soft smile, her figure that he wished to see without clothes... And her voice... Oh her sweet voice that he imagined every night moaning his name and telling him how good he was for her when he palmed his painfully hard erection through his trousers crying out loudly...

An idea popped into his head. A devilish and seemingly at the moment perfect idea. It wasn't unknown that Y/N had a tendency of getting scared at the slightest things and her reactions were quite entertaining. A slight, almost unnoticeable smirk pulled at his lips as he silently closed the door and creeped up behind her. She still stood there unaware of what was about to happen. So happy... So innocent...

Snape raised up his hand slowly and gave her a gentle jab to her side.

Y/N jumped up with a loud shriek.

"SON OF A BITC-"

Without looking at her attacker, she swished her wand aggressively in the air. A black rope shooting out of the air tying Snape up in a rather questionable position, his hand flying out of his sleeve, now laying around a meter away from him. He was on his knees, his hands tied back to his ankles tightly, not allowing him to get up. Well that wasn't the outcome he expected.

Y/N looked down at him annoyed, right now not caring about the situation he was in.

"Not cool man. Not cool. You know I have a weak heart." She said while shaking her head disappointed.

The way she looked down at him sternly... Fuck, the way she stood over him in such a towering and dominating manner while he was on the floor kneeling... Snape shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he did...

He sighed defeated, trying to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts clouding his mind. Why was he into this?

"Yes, yes. That was uncalled for I know." He admitted his fault, shifting slightly with annoyance. "Can you let me go now? It's rather provocative position I'm in." He looked up at her, trying to look stern and cold the best he could.

She just then noticed his position, her eyes taking in his rather embarrassing state. Her finger went up to her chin in a thinking manner.

"Hmmm... No." Y/N replied bluntly and walked up to the door to lock it. "You scared me without thinking about the consequences of your actions, now you have to be punished."

The last sentence made Snape's mind fill up with very VERY inappropriate things. His position, her stern demeanor, locked doors, her talking about a punishment... It all made his thoughts go to a very dirty place, sending a jolt to his already hardening length.

He had to suppress a whimper when he saw her walking back up to the desk to resume her work. His face was on the perfect height to see her ass and thighs in the complete display. The sight making his cock twitch in the confines of his pants that felt wayyyy to tight right now. His eyes were glued to her backside with a needy look. Oh what he would give to touch her beautiful curve right now...

"Please..." He muttered under his breath, knowing that if he would say it louder, his voice would sound desperate and whiny.

Y/N sighed annoyed, her back still turned to him as she moved to bottling other ingredients.

"Can't hear ya. Speak louder if you want me to actually listen." She replied, still not happy about his little prank.

The feeling of his erection was now becoming slightly painful. He felt a bead of precum dampening the material of his boxers. His breath was heavy as he futily tried to control his arousal.

"Please Y/N..." Snape spoke up louder, his voice came out as a high whimper (just like he expected)

Feeling a rush of arousal through her core, Y/N turned around quickly to look down at him. She noticed his dick straining against his pants and her eyes widened.

His face grew panicked and lustful as he noticed her staring at the tent in his pants *Shit... She'll think that I'm a creep! She'll be disgusted by me and I will never-*

His train of thoughts was stopped as he loudly cried out involuntarily. She gently pressed her shoe to his cock, massaging it lightly

"Aaah! Please!" his head rolled back and hips bucked up to the contact, relishing in even the slightest touch to relieve his hard-on.

Y/N smirked and crouched down to his level. She grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it slightly so she could see his flushed face.

"You're enjoying this? You enjoy being tied down and being punished like this?" her voice was amused and lustful as she took in Snape's heavy breathing.

Snape nodded his head eagerly, as much as her hold on his hair allowed.

"Mhm! Yes! Yes please I need- AH! MMMHH~

Y/N cut him off as she started to firmly palm his cock through the material. His hips were bucking up to the contact. Whines and moans were falling out of his open lips as he withered slightly under her touch, ropes restraining his movements a lot.

That moment was better than the things he imagined. How could he go go back to his own hand after feeling this? After feeling her?

She ran her thumb over his clothed tip, earning a shudder and a gasp from him.

"Fuck... You're sublime like this Severus... Those sounds you make are like heaven itself..." She whispered into his ear, leaving a kiss right under it.

He whimpered pathetically in response.

"Stop... Stop teasing..."

Y/N obliged immediately, almost attacking the zipper of his pants. After almost ripping his pants open she took his length out.

Snape hissed at the cold dungeon air against his sensitive dick. It was standing rigidly up, the tip already flushed red and leaking precum steadily.

Without hesitation Y/N took his length into her tight fist, waking him, hard.

Snape tried biting back the whines and moans of pleasure, failing miserably. He was writhing and bucking his hips up desperately, seeking more friction.

The sight was incredible. His cold and stern expression contorted into a face of pure pleasure. His mouth was open, gasping loudly and his eyes were rolling into the back of his skull with tears almost tricking down his cheeks.

"Please! Please Y/N I'm so sensitiv- Ahh~"

His orgasm was approaching quickly. His cock started twitching and his moans gained in volume. If she didn't stop he would-

"Are you going to cum? Are going to make a mess for me?" Y/N whispered into his ear before attacking his neck with kisses and gentle bites.

The only thing Snape could do was whine loudly and nod eagerly. His thighs started trembling, the uncomfortable coldness of stone floor long forgotten.

"Fuck... Come for me Severus... Come and look into my eyes... I want your fave to be engraved into my memory... I want to remember every single sound you let out as I make a fucking mess out of you..."

The pure filth that left her mouth spurred him on even more. She was still holding his hair tightly, her eyes now glued to his face.

Before he could warn her, the white hot pleasure took over his body with strings of his seed shooting over her hand and their clothes. He cried her name out and arched his back almost into a 90° angle (he might be almost 40 but that flexibility is still on POINT✨).

His head fell forward onto her shoulder as he panted loudly, trying to calm himself down.

With a swish of Y/N's wand, they bother were cleaned up as she tucked his softening length back into his pants almost lovingly. The hand gripping his raven locks now eased up and was gently running through his hair in a soothing manner.

"You can scare me every day if that's how it's going to end up every time" Y/N chuckled, getting rid of the binds on his body.

Snape only could quietly groan tired in response.

Hi! I have a feeling that was one of the most pathetic smuts that exist on this platform, although it just might be my opinion because I wrote it. If you have any feedback or tips then I'm more than happy to hear about them! I once again apologize for incoherent English. I hope that it's not actually as bad as it's in my eyes and that someone might actually enjoy this!

Now goodnight ❤️

[cntloup]

Queen!Reader x Knight!Ghost Vikings attack your land! war, blood and gore, near death experience

Part 2

You hear the galloping of a horse nearing as you walk hand in hand with your husband along the vibrant spring blossoms in the garden and turn your head to see one of the guards approaching. 

“My queen, my lord! We saw their ships! Danes are here!” he calls out and informs you of the attack, out of breath from riding the long distance of the riverside to the castle. 

“Pagans!” you gasp, “We must act now!” 

Simon is alert in an instant, “Gather all the able men. They must be prepared to fight... and prepared to die.” he orders the guard, “Yes, my lord.” the guard bows and spins his horse to leave. 

Simon turns to you, “You take all the women, children and elders into the fortress-”, “Do you think I will let you leave on your own?” you cut him off, shocked at his remark. 

“I have my men!” he replies, tone harsher than intended.  

“I will fight by your side.” you state firmly, matching his tone.

“No!” he bursts out almost in a shout. 

“Do not speak to me in that tone! I am still your queen!” you snarl while taking a step closer, standing tall before him. 

“And it is my duty to defend you, my queen.” he responds, lowering his voice.

“And it is my duty as your wife to remain by your side through everything.” you retort, tone still harsh as your frustration builds up.

“Please! I can’t lose you!” he utters in a much softer tone, pleading eyes looking back at you, growing desperate as you persist further. 

“You won’t lose me... and how dare you underestimate my abilities as a warrior?!” you smirk, half joking and half serious, causing him to let out a chuckle, “I would never do such a thing. Forgive me, my love.” 

“You are forgiven. And I will fight alongside you. This is my decision and that is final.” you say and leave to prepare for battle. 

He lets out a shaky sigh, anxiety and fear surging inside him. But he knows that he could never prevent you from doing what you set your mind to. 

----- 

Amidst the chaos of the battle, arrows flying, swords slashing through flesh and bone, blood spurting out of bodies, dirt and grime and gore covering every soldier while they let out raucous war cries, your eyes search for Simon and find him through the gushes of blood and the sprays of mud under the warriors' heavy footsteps. 

You sigh in relief to see him alive, but that doesn’t last long as your eyes land on the racing figure who charges towards him. 

You nearly black out as the image of him dying flashes before your eyes, but soon gather yourself and rush to him, sprinting and leaping high to shield his body with yours and you feel the sharp blade of the enemy plunge through your abdomen. 

It all happens so fast and he has no time to react, to stop you. And it registers in his mind what just took place too late as you lay on the ground, clutching your wound and almost choking on your own blood. 

He kneels beside you and lets out a devastated sob, “What have you done?” he cries out. 

He quickly gathers you in his arms and rushes into the nearest tent and calls out for the nurses to tend to you. 

“Please, love. Stay with me.” he sobs but his voice is merely a faint blurred sound as you slowly fade into unconsciousness. 

[vorthosjay]

Hi Jay. Not wanting to sound mean, but I really think it must be commented and that there's no softer way of doing that: the company's statement of Thunder Junction being an inhabitated plane prior to MoM is not a honest way of capitalizing on a sellable trope without touching its uncomfortable issues. It's even disrespectful. They have done it in a less flagrant way with Kaladesh and both Ixalan iterations, but now they've gotten too far with Thunder Junction. Colonialism is too big an issue to simply being put under the carpet as it never existed and we could just enjoy the sunny part of the history. I really hope Hasbro as a company acknowledges this and changes its way of dealing with the theme. Thanks for letting me pointing this.

Look, you caught me on a bad day, so I'm going to be as polite as possible but let's start with the foundation that this is not a complaint to direct at me. I have no control over any of this. Mark Rosewater exists and takes feedback on Tumblr.

But, let's talk about it, because I've seen some folks take this to extremes.

First off, I've seen a lot of well meaning folks speaking up on behalf of hypothetical indigenous americans, but I'd love to get takes from folks this actually impacts. I'd love for Wizards to post something about their work with cultural consultants, for sure. But the only actual thing I've seen so far is a great story from Magic's first indigenous american author. And when you're speaking on someone else's behalf, you tend to miss things. Like, Kaladesh is not the great representation of south asian culture that you might think when you jumped to it, and it's okay if you didn't know that, but it sort of proves the point that it's very difficult to actually protest on someone else's behalf. And I just haven't heard from anyone who has also mentioned they speak from authority or are impacted by this. That doesn't mean you're wrong, necessarily.

But here's the thing. Thunder Junction isn't history. It takes cues from the American West, sure, but it's a fake world. And sometimes it's okay for a fake world to ignore the bad things that happens in real life and create something more aspirational. Magic does this all the time. Magic doesn't have homophobia, but that isn't really realistic or representative of the real world, is it?

No one, and I mean literally no one, came to me and said that people of color needed to be ostracized and not allowed to work alongside the white people in the demon mob families of New Capenna. That racism was real, it was systemic, and it was violent. But did it need to be tackled in a fantasy crime drama based on america in the 20s? Should it have been? I don't think anyone would have enjoyed it as much. Sometimes it's just fun to play gangster.

Similarly, the colonization and manifest destiny that was the reality of the American West was tragic, but does that need to be our only depiction of indigenous peoples - being colonized? If they were erased completely from the narrative, that would be awful, but can't they just have fun being cool thunder slingers? The Atiin were developed with a consultant, and if you want answers ask Wizards to talk about it.

There's a reason the Oltec were depicted as being sealed off from the Immortal Sun drama that had happened on the surface. To have an aspirational mesoamerican culture that wasn't affected by the Dusk Legion and Azor and all that.

To put it in another perspective, does every period piece featuring black americans need to feature systemic racism to be respectful? Is Bridgerton disrespectful (I mean probably but not for that reason)?

The reason I've framed a lot of this as questions is because I don't necessarily think I know the right answer, especially not for a fantasy card game. I've worked with tribal governments in my emergency management career and spent a week on the Navajo Nation, and talked a lot about perspective on things, and I would not presume to know what the right answer to all of this is.

Edit: to be clear, Could it have been handled better? Probably. I will never deny that. But also it’s a complicated and fraught topic and I’d love to hear from the people wizards contracted who actually know what they’re talking about.

[comfortless]

*ೃ༄ Some thoughts on a lighthouse keeper König with a fem, harpy reader! 18+ MDNI.

Signing away months of your life for routinized labor comes with little internal protests for him, he’s done it before with military work. He’ll do it again without question; anything, anyplace to keep him away from a house that’s never felt like home.

König’s blessed with an abundance of skills and the strength to perform hard labor. He’s disciplined enough to embrace the solitude, maybe even thinks of this contract as a reprieve from other people, from creature comforts and the hustle and bustle of ordinary life.

He packs only the bare minimum for himself— clothing he doesn’t mind lantern oil spilling onto, thick books ranging from myth to histories, a trusty hunting knife he’s been keening for the time to polish and sharpen to bring back to its former glory. Food and shelter are already provided for him in a cabin battered by sea breeze and saltwater just a bit too small for a man his size mere paces from the pillar of light that he’s resigned himself to tend to.

Each day is spent checking systems, keeping the haunting yellow light clean and functioning well, jotting down weather readings, and meticulously keeping things orderly. The occasional sound of a boat’s horn would bellow out, as close to a voice calling it’s thanks as it could get from his self-sought isolation. The ocean is lively enough for him, anyhow. The sight of a whale a short distance off shore isn’t an uncommon one, pods of dolphins flipping up into the air like performers, a show just for him. Even the sky above is a sight with flocks of birds he could not name passing by, or sea gulls flying high above only to ground themselves on the rocky shore to cock their heads at him; he imagines that if they could speak their small, shrill voices would ask him ‘What are you doing here?’, and he’s thankful he would never have to answer.

Each night, he reads. The bed is a bit small for him, a cot, really. He has to curl in a way that makes him feel like a dog left to waste away outside, knees nearly tucked to his chest and an elbow propped to keep his head up while he turns to pages of his books. He always wakes to his head resting on a page, the scents of old ink, amber and cedar fill his nose when his eyes flutter open.

He makes himself simple breakfasts, the scent of black coffee lingers throughout the cabin each morning. Occasionally it’s bacon, occasionally eggs in a basket, something as simple as his life has become. He thinks about his days of war when he walks to the shore with his mug in hand, wistfully watching the waves, haunted and volatile, so very much like the ocean of his eyes.

It’s never quiet. The gulls call from above, their wings outstretched as they sail through the air, and the waves make raucous noise as they crash against the rock, wearing down every fine point to something softer. A part of him longs to be worn down too, to pry that aching from his heart, the scars tarnishing his body, the callouses on his hands, dissolve them all in dark, salty waters with a gentle ebb and flow. He’s never thought himself to be one deserving of gentle things, but he greedily yearns for them anyhow.

He admires the sea shells that wash up on the sandy patches of the shoreline, some are pearlescent and untarnished, he dares not touch those. The ugly ones with splintering cracks remind him of himself, he’ll allow his hand to reach for those, toss them back into the hellish abyss where they belong. He doesn’t need a reminder of what he is, why he’s here. He wants to surround himself in pretty things that no one can dirty with their fingerprints, not even himself.

A torrential rain breaks up the monotony of his duty for a few days. He’s soaked to the bare bones running back and forth from the cabin to keep the light functioning, wiping away condensation from the glass that confines it and fiddling with the old machinery to stop the massive light from flickering. He holes himself up there, in that old tower for two long, sleepless nights. He imagines ghosts, ghosts of the people he’s killed without remorse dancing at the corner of his vision, taunting him endlessly from purgatory with their frantic dances and unnatural jolts. When he turns his head, their faces are gone, carried away by the ocean breeze that rattled the walls of the lighthouse, yet can not touch him.

He’s hardly able to keep himself upright when the rain finally stops. Addled from a lack of sleep and an ache from hunger, he slinks down the steps to the wet ground outside. There are no gulls fluttering about with their squeals and questions and begging, and for the first time since he’s come here, the water is calm. The sun beams down from a cerulean sky, not a single cloud fattened and gray with rain water in sight.

Only a bird.

König’s taken note of the wildlife since he’s come, all of the sea creatures that would swim about, the pelicans, petrels and gulls that would make their rounds. He’s never once seen a bird this big. It’s wings stretch wide, gracefully flutter to soar higher only to rear back, knees kicked up to its chest in its graceful descent. It doesn’t ground itself to beg him for a crumb of toast or shriek at him, it only perches atop the lighthouse, looking down at him as if exacting some strange, silent retribution.

The bird shifts in place for a moment as his eyes squint to get a better view of it. He’s mesmerized when he takes note of a very human face, soft nude flesh in place of feathers right down to the ankles that house plush, downy feathers and the coarse skin of scales leading down to brutal, curved talons. Her breasts heave and legs tense as she stretches her wings out to take flight. With a single leap she takes back to the air, twirls in it effortlessly as if she’s in the midst of the most elegant, seraphic dance to return to whichever whisper of heaven she descended from.

The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

The salt and foam must play their tricks, because he’s no where near deluded enough to believe he’s seen an angel in a place like this, that one would think to visit him at all.

Still, he’s an awful bastard, because his cock twitches in demand from the sheer sight of her flying far, far away from him. He doesn’t allow himself to touch pretty things, but god he wants to touch you. He settles for returning to his cot and tugging down the zipper of his pants to rest his length in his hand, slow, deliberate strokes with his eyes closed, bringing himself to ruin from just a fleeting memory.

He chalks it up to sleep deprivation the next morning, a waking wet dream. Even before coming to this little island, it had been well over a year since he had been in the presence of a nude woman. Work quickly makes him forget, keeps his hands tied and his mind emptied of softer flesh and beautiful skies.

She comes back with the next storm, a shivering mess in the rain. A rough gale struck her down and he watched her spin out amongst thick, wet clouds, her form aglow with the backdrop of thunder. She falls to briny water, and without thought he’s left his cabin to dive right in after her, scooping the poor thing up to haul her back to the safety of a warm home, a roof above her head.

König wraps her in the only blanket that he has, feels her gaze on his back while he stokes a fire all for her as she sits and shivers, trying to gather her bearings. Human kindness is unexpected, unwarranted, really. She signals great storms, her talons cruel. He looks at her in awe when she nestles against his shoulder, her eyes locked to his, both faces warmed by the glow of crackling flames and comfort.

He tells her he isn’t worthy of an angel wasting her grace on him. She tells him that nothing sent barreling out of the sky like she had could be as pure as he believes.

[photogirl894]

Hello! Don't know if you're still taking requests, but would I be able to request 8 and 33 from the physical affection prompt list with Crosshair? I can totally see him using that to spend time with his SO!! 😁

Hey anon! I know it's been forever since you sent this in, so I really hope you see it! Sorry it took a long time!

"Close to You"

8. Play fighting/wrestling

33. Playful shove

Pairing: Crosshair x fem reader

***

It was a nice day on the planet, Naboo, and you and the Bad Batch were taking some downtime there for a little bit until you received your next mission. As you were about to get off the ship, Crosshair arm-checked you in the doorway and pushed past you. You cast a perplexed look at him, but he simply looked back over his shoulder and smirked at you as he went down the ramp.

He'd been doing that a lot lately, giving you light shoves as he'd walk by you and you couldn't quite understand why, but then he'd grin at you after doing so. His peculiar behavior peaked your curiosity. You'd seen him and his brothers push each other around often, but he never grinned at them like he did with you. At one point, you went to Hunter to see if he had any explanation behind Crosshair's behavior. All he had to say was that Crosshair was more physical with people he likes or feels comfortable around, hence why he shoved his brothers around all the time. It was just how he was; how he expressed himself. When you asked why Crosshair grinned at you the way he did, Hunter didn't really have much an answer other than, "Maybe he just likes you a little more."

If that were true...you wouldn't mind it at all.

You had found your gaze drifting towards Crosshair a lot more recently. Something about his stoic, quiet personality intrigued you and you really wanted to try and get him out of his shell a little more. You wanted to know him more; you wanted to see a side of him that even his brothers didn't know. That and you found him particularly handsome. Something about the sharp curvature of his cheek bones, the way his lips pressed together with a toothpick between them, the way the light hit his brown eyes...you were well and truly smitten with the sniper.

He tended to like to stay up a little later than the rest of the squad, so you decided to try something out once everyone else had retired for the night.

Soon, night came and you spotted Crosshair sitting outside by a space heater. His armor had been removed and he was just in his blacks, just like you were in yours. You carefully made your way down the ramp of the ship, but he heard you coming and stood up upon seeing you.

"Everything all right?" he asked you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you responded as you walked up to him. Then you playfully shoved him in the arm and said, "Just checking on you and making sure you're okay."

He looked a bit taken aback at your gesture before saying, "I'm...fine."

Motioning to his arm where you'd hit him, you stated, "Hunter says that's how you show people you like them. I thought doing it back would do the same thing."

"Yes, but...it's different with you," he admitted.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

He flashed a grin at you; a softer, more sincere one that you had never seen from him before that made him almost glow even more in the light of the space heater. "For me...it's just another way to be close to you," he told you.

Surprised, you blurted out, "Then why didn't you just say something before?"

He smirked again and replied, "This was more fun," as he then nudged you again in the arm with his shoulder.

You figured two could play at that game. With your mouth agape at his gesture, you decided to gently shove him back. That only made him grin even more as he gave another push, a little harder than before. When you went to retaliate, however, he caught your hands in his, holding them in place and wrestling against them.

"Hey, no fair!" you cried.

You pulled your hands free, but as you turned to try and move away, he pulled you back, grabbing you around the waist with his arms and pulling your back against his chest as he lifted you just a little off the ground and walked backward slowly.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked tauntingly in your ear.

"You know, if you just wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was say--aah!"

Suddenly, you found yourself falling as Crosshair seemed to trip over something as he walked backwards and you both tumbled to the ground with a thud. You heard Crosshair groan from not only the impact of the ground, but also of you landing on top of him before rolling off.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, crawling over to him.

"Never...better," he groaned as he sat up. However, just as he got all the way up, he was suddenly pushed back down onto his back, but not because you had shoved him...because you had leapt onto him and were hugging him around his neck. His arms stiffened at his sides at the sudden, unexpected closeness he was receiving from you, not to mention with you being on top of him.

"If you wanted to be close to me...I would've obliged right away," you said softly to him. "I care a lot about you, Crosshair. I hope this is what you want."

His arms gradually enclosed themselves around you, embracing you closely, and you could feel his body relax underneath you. Then he responded, "Not quite."

When you pulled back to question him further, his hand was immediately on your cheek for a brief moment before it slid to the back of your head and he pulled you down to him, lifting his head a little to meet you partway as he joined his lips softly with yours. There was a delightful shiver that ran down your spine at how sweetly he kissed you and you couldn't help but smile into the kiss as you deepened it.

After a moment, he pulled back, a new light in his eyes upon realizing you had kissed him back and were smiling adoringly down at him. "Now, I've gotten what I wanted," he then spoke, a content grin on his face. "This was everything I'd hoped for...and more."

Pleased with his reply, you bent over, kissed him once more and then laid your head down on his chest, cuddling up to him. His arms held you safely against him, right where he wanted you to be.

Photogirl894's Physical Affection Prompts

Photogirl894's 1,000 Followers fics

[ccscocoapuffs]

Tama Tonga NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Don't let his demeanor fool you, he's a snuggle bear, though after sex he prefers cock warming cuddles. He wants to feel you flutter around him for just a little longer while you keep him nice and warm. He loves to make out after sex to before he goes and starts the shower or bath for you both.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Tama loves his arms, he loves that he has enough strength in them to throw you around a little bit when he wants to fuck you rough.

He's an ass man, he loves smacking it till it turns bright red. He will for sure put you over his lap and spank you while you count each one if you've been a brat to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Literally all over you, he loves cumming inside you or on your face the most though. Tama's love for cumming on you comes from his marking kink, whether its cum, scratches, hickeys, or bites, he wants everyone to know you are his girl.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has 100% stole your underwear to use while he's away. He will call you while he's gone on a trip and show you your pretty lace panties wrapped around his cock while he cums. So he keeps stealing them a secret but gets so aroused at the thought of you knowing he's such a perv that he pretty much tells on himself.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Oh he knows exactly what he is doing, Tama has had a decent amount of experience and is a very quick learning when it comes to pin pointing the things that his partner needs and likes the best. His area of expertise though is `100% oral

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Tama's favorite position is the lotus position, he loves being able to wrap his arms around you and thrust up into you so he can hit the right spot perfectly. Another favorite about the lotus to him is the fact he can reach up to your chin and make you look him in the eyes while he fucks you. " Yeah, you like that? My slut wanna cum? then look at me"

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely more serious, Tama prefers to have a rougher and more kinky time in the bedroom with you which tends to things being more on the serious side of things.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Thick dark curly hair, that's black in color and is a whole damn bush. Tama does not care he wants you to choke on them when you suck his dick.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Tama is very focused during the moment, He loses himself in the goal of giving you the best fucking of your life and tends to forget about the softer side of intimacy and romance because of this. However, that doesn't mean that he isn't romantic at all, he will show you this side of him during aftercare and in your day to day life.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He loves mutual masturbation, though he definitely prefers being able to fuck you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Spanking

Daddy/Sir

Slight spit kink

Bondage

Breeding

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere. Man is a damn fiend when it comes to you and he will bend you over anywhere. The amount times Solo has walked in on you Two is ungodly.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He gets turned on by the simple things that you do, like the way your tongue sticks out when you think, when you go shopping and try on dresses and lingerie, and he even gets turned on by the way you look at him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing you is off the table for him, he's a very jealous lover in the bedroom snf is aware of this. He feels as though he is the only one who can fuck you and make you feel this good.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

God he loves eating pussy, he will shove his whole face between you legs and won't stop till your legs are shaking. If you squirt he gets off alot on the fact his beard would be soaked.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Tama tends to always be on the fast and rough side of things. He usually is like this though because of his energy, he has a very high stamina and rough and fast is really just the way he gets it all out of his system.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He loves quickies. He will shove you up against the wall somewhere backstage just to get a quick fuck in before he has to go out and fight. His favorite though is when he lifts you up onto something and gets on his knees to give you a quick tongue fuck.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is so risky it's concerning. Tama will try anything with you, he treats you like his queen and his queen gets what she wants. Anything you wanna experiment in he is down for it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He could go all night if you can keep up with him. However, he will settle for 3-4 rounds. He has to make sure you're either begging him to stop cause of the sensitivity or shaking from squirting hard.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't use the often with you but he does have a few he uses on occasion. Handcuffs are a classic for him as well as using a small bullet vibrstor on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he loves to tease you. Tama wants to hear you whine for him to touch you before he makes you fall apart. "What is it love? You want daddy to rub this clit?"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Oh he's loud but not whiny loud. He let's out deep and loud growls and groans. (I know what your thinking, yes he's a damn gremlin another story for another time 🤣)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves taking nudes, he will send you them all the time when he's away for a show.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Tama is actually pretty big. He's about 8 inches with thick veins running along his shaft. He has a bright red color to the tip, which makes it look 10 times hotter when it leaks precum.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high, he craves you to the point it's almost inhumane. Putting a exact estimate of how much you two have sex is hard to do, because of the amount of times he talks you into quickies.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes pretty long for him to fall asleep after sex. He will lay with you if you want him to cuddle you while you fall asleep, sometimes he will get up and maybe go get stuff ready for work, take care of stuff around the house, or something of the sort.

[mypimpademia]

— You Like My Voice?

Bakugo x black!reader, Todoroki x black!reader

TW: Swearing

Note: this idea came from that sexyy red audio that’s trending on TikTok ngl !

— BAKUGO.

⇶ The thing about Katsuki is that he pays a lot of attention to you

⇶ Like a lot.

⇶ He knows what you like and what you don’t, and takes mental note of it

⇶ Hell, he could confidently say he knows almost everything about you

⇶ So it’s guaranteed that he knows you like his voice

⇶ Unless you’re play arguing, Katsuki pipes down around you, so you hear his normal speaking voice more than anything

⇶ His speaking voice is actually fairly quiet, especially when he’s with you

⇶ His tone is much softer, and he tends to grunt and grumble a lot if he’s preoccupied or trying to multitask talking to you and doing something else. And his natural voice is actually a bit raspy, and probably a little more than it should be from his constant yelling

⇶ It fits him perfectly, and you feel a bit bad when you don’t fully take in what he’s saying to you because you’re too busy staring at his pretty face and listening to his voice without actually listening to him

⇶ When he notices you not paying attention, he always sucks his teeth and asks if you’re listening

‘He’s so pretty… I’m so happy he’s my man.’ You thought to yourself.

Your eyes searched around his face, taking in all his features.

His well groomed brows, carnelian eyes with long lashes, perfectly shaped nose, soft lips that were slightly pink from his cherry chapstick, and a jawline that could cut steel.

And god, his voice was music to your ears.

Truthfully, you had no clue what he was saying. But you could make out his voice through your haze of admiration, and it sounded like heaven .

You were so far gone that you didn’t even realize that you were smiling at him like a dope, and literally kicking your feet as you spun back and forth in your chair.

“‘N’ then I had to go talk to Aizawa about it ‘cause…” Katsuki trailed off as he met your eyes, and then he kissed his teeth.

“Hey, are you even listening to me?” He grunted, leaning towards you to search your eyes for some sign that you were paying attention.

“I’m listenin’ baby, just keep talkin’,” You feigned.

“Oh really, then what was I saying?” He questioned you, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Erm… I know you said something about Aizawa!”

Katsuki ran his tongue over his teeth, pushing his lips out as he stared at you with a deadpan expression.

You guilt-fully looked to the side with a downward smile, knowing you’d been caught.

“I should kick your ass,” He chuckled as he threw his head back and crossed his arms.

“Bruhh! Just keep talking I’ll listen this time! For real, for real!”

⇶ Katsuki knows you’re far gone when you keep using that ‘just keep talking’

⇶ Sometimes, he’ll do it entertain you, and so he can see that lost look in your eyes

⇶ Other times, he’ll feed into it just because he knows how much you like it

Katsuki leaned in close to your face, so close that you could smell the mint on his breath and feel it fan against you.

Your eyes widen at the suddenness of his close proximity, and he pressed his large, calloused, hand against your cheek.

“Everythin’ okay, doll?” He asked you, thumb rubbing back and forth on your face.

You nodded, too hypnotized by him to speak.

“Y’sure? You look lost,” Katsuki persisted, feeling your face heat up against his palm.

“M’fine. Just looking at you baby, you’re so pretty, and I could listen to you all day,” you told him, before leaning in for a kiss.

“Oh baby, I think you’re the pretty one.”

⇶ Always pulls away during make out sessions just to whisper in your ear about how good you look and how much he loves you and everything about you

⇶ Comes up behind you a lot just to get in your ear too, and sometimes it’s not even about anything in particular. He just asks what you’re doing but he knows it makes you crazy regardless of what he says

⇶ The most amazing sleepy voice award needs to go to him because he just sounds so good when he’s tired

⇶ Not much of a talker in the mornings, so he gives you a lot of grunts and short noises rather than speaking, but once he’s woken up a bit more you always stay in bed together talking about nothing

⇶ The sound of his voice makes you wanna sleep again because it sounds so heavenly, you feel like you’re sinking into the mattress

⇶ Let’s you lay on his chest while you talk about the dreams you had and he messes with your bonnet

⇶ Sends so many voice messages when he’s not with you, it’s ridiculous actually

⇶ Tells you random details about his day as they happen. Something cool he saw, something that pissed him off, something that he did, and so on

⇶ Its like your personal 24/7 podcast

⇶ Always FaceTimes you instead of texting too

⇶ You’ll sit on the phone for hoursss together and sometimes you won’t even talk to each other for half the time

⇶ But he’s usually playing a game w the bakusquad so you always get to hear his voice, even if he’s just yelling

⇶ Really though, the moral is that he just goes the extra mile if he knows you like something

— TODOROKI.

⇶ This poor clueless thing has no idea what he’s doing to you

⇶ Doesn’t talk too much when he’s in class or in pubs in general, but he gets a bit more chatty when you two are along because he’s comfortable with you

⇶ But even then, Shoto is still fairly quiet volume wise, and his normal talking voice is nearly a whisper

⇶ Because of this, you often find yourselves leaned in close to each other just to hold a conversation

⇶ Not that you mind being close to your boyfriend, but his two toned eyes piercing through you do make you a little nervous

⇶ And Sho hasn’t the slightest clue why you stare at him in such a daze when he talks to you, thinks there’s something wrong :(

“… Y/n… Y/n,” Shoto softly called out to you.

Blinking out of your entranced state, you hummed at your boyfriend in response. His brows furrowed with concern, and he frowned at you.

“Is everything alright, love? You seem unfocused,” he said.

You nearly chuckled at how concerned he was, he really has no idea.

“M’okay baby, I just really like your voice,” you told him.

Shoto raised his eyebrows at you in confusion, cocking his head to the side.

“You like my voice?” He asked you.

You nodded, a small smile gracing your glossy lips before you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Now finish your story baby, I’m listening.”

⇶ Shoto has never been one to pay any mind to himself

⇶ Doesn’t give any thought to how attractive he is, or what others think of him (besides you, really, but he missed this one thing!)

⇶ He is, however, extremely attentive to you and your needs and likes

⇶ So when you tell him you like his voice, he takes note of that

⇶ He’s still quiet when out and about, but he’s made a clear effort to talk more when the two of you are in private

⇶ He complimented you a lot before, but he compliments you almost constantly now

⇶ Catches you by surprise most of the time, walks up behind you, tells you you’re beautiful, kisses your cheek, then leaves

⇶ And Shoto knows that you know you look good, but he also knows that you just like to hear it, and likes telling you so it’s a win-win situation

⇶ However, he’s a bit over the top, and if you give him an inch he’ll take a mile

⇶ Does nothing but send voice messages and face time you when you’re not together

⇶ You really don’t mind the voice messages, they’re honestly a huge step up from him texting normally because he’s lowkey a dry texter

⇶ Hardly uses emojis, and only says ‘lol’, not ‘lmao/lmfao’, his responses are never more than 3 sentences unless it’s important

⇶ So yeah, voice messages are definitely preferred

⇶ He sends a lot of short ones of just him chuckling after you say something funny and they make you melt

⇶ You secretly listen to his voice messages back when you miss him

⇶ Shoto is the type to FaceTime you when he has something to say that could’ve been a text message

⇶ But you bear with it because he’s your man

⇶ Shoto is very gentle with you, and treats you as if you’ll break

⇶ So when you two make out, it’s just soft and romantic

⇶ He’s not rough with you at all, and actually takes the reigns to guide you through it so you can just relax and melt into it

⇶ But he gets a bit overwhelmed and flustered, and has to pull away at some point to catch his breath

⇶ Always takes that time to call you beautiful while his face his flushed red, and once he catches his breath he peppers feather light kisses on your heated skin

⇶ Has a habit of touching your hair too, he won’t do it often if you tell him not to, but his hands normally find a way there a few times a day

⇶ Never sticks his whole hand in there, he just gently plays with a small section, or lightly pulls at the soft hairs on the back of your neck

⇶ But he does move your hair out of the way, without messing it up, to burry his face in your neck and tell you how much he loves you

⇶ Sho just loves to give you the room to be soft and feel loved around him, even if that means dragging out the little things you enjoy (not that you mind)

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!🫶🏾