#but he likes the finer things and the pleasures of life more than his kids

[heavenzscent]

💌🧺🐍

For @mikatsuobushi

Setting: Post Canon , 1800’s 

Themes: Jealousy 

Authors Note: I have been going through the worst writing slump and I really wanted to challenge myself by writing jealousy in a less sensational way. I think often jealousy is just such a quiet thing that we try to ignore and deny.

Also I really wanted to write Connie as being a little more emotionally intelligent then he lets on. I thought maybe one day this could become a full length fic where connie tries being matchmaker. I wish Connie had more of a role in alot of jeankasa fanfics.

I hope you enjoy this story and I'm sorry for the wait.

6 years post rumbling

“Hurry !” Armin called from inside the carriage. Jean would have preferred to ride his own horse but he needed to look his best for the occasion. It was the night of the winter ball, the largest ball to have ever taken place according to anyone with a mouth. 

And Mikasa may be there and he hadn’t had the chance to see her since his return. 

But anyway… 

With all the resources and the threat of war over, the people of the island had come increasingly indulgent in the finer pleasures in life that before had been reserved for royals. Weekly assemblies took place in even small villages and almost every young woman was sent to etiquette classes instead of the military. 

When he was young it was common for girls to simply join the military, get into the Garrison, meet a husband and quit. Especially when he was a cadet with food being scarce many parents had handed their children to the government so there would be less mouths to feed at home and their children were guaranteed a meal. 

Jean peered down at the bustling street of his hometown from the balcony of his hotel. He had admired this hotel since he was a boy. He and Thomas Wagner had once swore that when they were adults and had earned a higher place in the world they would share drinks on the balcony. He was here now but it wasn’t how he had thought all those years ago. Thomas was long gone and instead of kids playing while dodging horses and dingy carts on the streets there were carriages and bicycles. 

Girls were jumping and twirling out of dress shops in new dresses or holding large bags with hooks on top no doubt containing a gown for the upcoming winter ball. 

He even recognized some of the young women on the street from the welcoming ceremony three days ago. It had been three years since his last visit and he hoped from here on out he could spend more time at home. It seemed to be the case with how politics where playing out. 

He heard a bell ring from the street and could see an impatient Armin waving up at him to hurry up and run down. 

He checked his room, locked the door and ran down the stairs onto the street meeting Armins impatient babbling and Connie's nervous eyes. They were to be the guests of honor tonight. The Jaegerists were pretty much backed into obscurity within the public mind after one too many political debacles and it only would have taken someone with half a brain to grab the hearts and minds of the people and steer them away from the fascists but luckily they had Armin who had far more than half a brain.  

The coachmen quickly snapped the reins once they shut the carriage door. Women waved handkerchiefs as they rode past, some recognized them but many others simply recognized an expensive carriage when they saw it.

“It's crazy the difference.” Connie mused. 

“From then and now.”  Jean asked. 

“No, From Here and There.” Connie corrected. 

Across the sea they were still rebuilding the world and in Paradise it seemed as if the world was flourishing. 

There was a weighted pause in the carriage although once Connie broke it Jean was convinced that it had only existed within his own head. 

“Will we be escorting Mikasa tonight?” Connie asked him, pretending to sound innocent. Like he wasn’t poking a wound. 

“No.” Armin answered. He had arrived two weeks prior to Jean and Connie. 

Connie nodded. “Not surprised she doesn’t enjoy this sort of thing.” 

“Surprisingly she is coming.” Armin said. “But Niccolo is her escort tonight.” 

Connie chuckled. “Being replaced?” He teased Armin. But it felt barbed towards Jean.

Jean stopped looking out the window to face Connie.“Huh!?” 

Both men looked at him; Connie with actual confusion (maybe he wasn’t playing innocent one could never tell with Connie.) and Armins brows knitted with concern. 

“Why is she going with Niccolo?” He asked in a calmer voice. He knew nothing of this. Since when had they grown close enough to attend events together no less? 

“They have been spending a lot of time together lately.” Armin explained that Niccolo had been the one who checked on Mikasa after their departure from their last group ambassador trip and that for a time that they had even both lived together at the Brouse’s when Mikasa’s roof had caved in with snow and how grateful that Armin was for Niccolo while they had been gone. 

Jean on the other had only felt like a bastard. He should be grateful. He really should. Hadn’t he worried about Mikasa's state for years? Tried pushing to come back home just to ease his mind? This was a good thing. Even so he felt horribly and disgustingly jealous. 

“Wow I didn’t know all that!” Connie exclaimed. 

“Well Mikasa’s been keeping a low profile and getting mail across the ocean isn’t exactly discreet. She couldn’t risk exposing that a Marleyan lives here on the island.” 

“That makes sense why she never maintained him in her letters.” Jean huffed. 

Connie arched his brow.“You two write.”

Jean felt as though he had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar but he brushed off the feeling. “Of course.” He shrugged. 

“She only writes to me on my birthday.” 

“Well do you write her?” Jean asked. Although his ego began to grow. Other than Armin he was the only other he knew of that regularly wrote Mikasa. 

Connie nodded in understanding and Jean imitated him, his brow still knitted, imagining all the time that Niccolo of all people got to spend alone with Mikasa while they were gone. 

The entrance was flooded with couples and young women with their escorts lining up, shuffling forward while excitedly waiting to make their entrance into the grand ballroom.

Meanwhile, Mikasa hadn’t felt this uncomfortable heat since she was in the military. It was the all too familiar feeling of not having enough air and as though she couldn’t make herself small enough, that her body took up too much space as if betraying her own comfort. At some point she had learned to ignore that to make everyone else feel small in front of her stature and accomplishments. But she wasnt that young woman anymore. That young woman had been a mask for harsher times. 

Niccolo looked as calm as ever the only indicator of his discomfort was the flush of his cheeks but even that served to make him look more attractive and boyish in spite of being in his late twenties. She wondered how she looked. She could only guess cold and mean like some sort of porcelain doll due to the short glimpse she caught of herself in a passing mirror. 

What’s her problem she thought to herself before quickly realizing the cold woman in question was in fact her own reflection.

She was glad to have Niccolo beside her; he in many ways was so different from herself but like her he was a soldier at a time. She found they could understand each other in a very distinct way and she could see how Sasha had come to love him. He was soft inside, he enjoyed cooking and quietly watching peoples faces as they ate his food. But if they complimented it too much he got that boyish flush and would mutter some profanity and shuffle off. 

They were the same. He and her. They were givers. Born in a world that was too cruel and called for them to make use of the less savory aspects of their personalities. 

But those days are over. Long gone. A little past half a decade. 

A step forward.

She took a breath while looking around at her fellow Eldians. They where so different from back then to now. 

A step forward

Breath. 

Now people wanted horses for frivolous things like races, luxury carriages and even to make them dance. The people of Paradise wanted food until their ribs expanded just for any old Tuesday. Knives were now commonly embossed with jewels never expected to see blood. It was a different world then they one she had once understood. 

A Step forwards 

Breath. 

Wait about 20 beats then the next person or couple would be ushered out the doors. 

A step forward

Breath. 

This had been going on far longer than necessary. 

After about 20 steps forward she found herself in front of another mirror. She looked more irritated this time and the flush of her cheeks didn’t match Niccolos. She looked like a huge spoiled child. Her straight hair was curled into ringlets and put into a fancy updo that looked pretty but also very unlike any version of herself she had come to know. Even as a child her hair had always been bone straight, never as much as a wave unless it had been braided the night before but it always somehow would pull itself straight by the evening. 

Kaya had used a heated curling wand. Mikasa had felt an apprehensive excitement as Kaya, now a young woman styled her hair but within this moment she couldn’t help but feel strange amongst the crowd as though she were a liar of sorts. 

She was. She was a huge liar and a phony for sure. But she still didn’t  care to feel it. Not in this crowded room of self important assholes.

The so-called Loyalists. Loyalists to the crown.They weren't any better then their fascist brothers the Jaegerists. They just wanted to keep the status quo. Their lands and titles and unearned respect. 

A step forward

Breath. 

Looking in the mirror she could very much notice that her lips were plumper than usual, only making her look even more bratty in her opinion. She hadn’t pouted since… Well she couldn’t recall but she must have at some point. The lipstick and the balm make her lips look flushed and maybe even swollen though which she wasn’t sure looked appealing or silly. 

This was the new sort of fashion and although it had been a fun novelty at the Brouse house it quickly felt annoying to her. 

Jean should be here. What would he think? She pushed that thought aside, it was silly and made her feel nervous which she didn’t need. 

A step forward 

Breath. 

The dress was also far too tight. It was an empire waist and it pushed up her breasts ridiculously. She looked like the crude drawings boys would draw in the military. She remembered finding some when the girls were being punished and had to clean the boys barracks.

Staring at her reflection once more, she couldn't help but wonder who designed such a thing and who it was really meant for?

Did Jean like dresses like this? He seemed to not mind, even when she was in a cardigan and a long skirt his eyes lingered. That had been three years ago and he had left in such a hurry.

Step forward

Breath. 

None of it mattered. Three years he was on the continent with other people. There was so much she couldn’t say in her letters to him and with all the important connections he had he probably omitted much more of his life abroad. He probably knew tones of interesting people and some people were women. And some of those interesting women would be pretty no doubt. And some of those pretty women would find him appealing as well. 

Niccolo squeezed her elbow bringing her out of her silly thoughts. 

They would see them soon. Their friends. All of them together at last.

Armin, Connie, Jean. 

Finally.

For how cramped the entrance hall had been the grand ballroom had lived up to its name. 

The new moon's light beamed within the room and electric chandeliers as well as candles in sconces lit up the entire room. A buffet table was full of delicacies and waiters made rounds around the perimeter with trays full of hors d’oeuvres. A particular tray caught Connie's attention leaving Armin and Jean to scan the room for a comfortable place to mingle. 

Jean wanted to avoid the dance floor. He wasn’t in the mood to dance with every insistent girl in fear of upsetting her much too doting and powerful father, brother or uncle. 

Unfortunately no matter how close to the balcony or in the middle of the bite or conversation took place there was an excitable young woman wanting a dance with a tall man. Some didn’t even have the courtesy not to scrunch their nose when he revealed his name but still a tall man to spin them around and show all the expensive ruffles in their dress was all that was needed for the night. 

“Mikasa.” Niccolo interrupted the conversation between the leaves and wind that she had found very compelling in comparison to what they had been subjected to in the ballroom. 

“I think we should go inside now. See if Connie and Jean have arrived. It’s been about 3 years since their last visit. They are probably anxious to see you.” 

“They know me well enough. They will find us here eventually.” She shrugged. In truth she was nervous. She wasn’t used to butterflies and didn’t know how to settle them. 

“Even though they are your old friends to everyone else they are important men they are probably being held up with all the nonsense formalities as we speak.” 

Mikasa sighed. He was right. 

“Let's go save them from it all.” Niccolo urged her on like she was a spoiled child as they emerged from the garden with its dense greenery and stately lamps. She didn’t think she would ever wear this sort of style again. The man had gone mad and forgot who he was speaking to. 

“Because we are such a ball?” Mikasa rolled her eyes. 

“You mean me?” Niccolo arched his brow, smirking his shoulder already raised ready for what only Mikasa could call a light hit. Maybe he hadn’t completely forgotten. 

“You see th-theese… Jaegerists! They simply have no respect for order. You know many more would have supported Eren. We were between a rock and a hard place. You remember!  It's not WHAT he did but HOW, You understand, HOW. It is a shame that you had to... well you know...” The man traced his finger horizontal to his throat making a creaking sound. “ But a deviant like that must be dealt with.” Connie felt as though his ears would start bleeding. There was something wrong when he thought someone sounded absolutely idiotic. Although he had gained some sense over the years he didn’t have the natural wit or study capacity of people like Armin and Jean. But he knew how to be plenty pleasant even to the worst of them. Even more so than Armin who had to fight an overwhelming need to correct the fallacies in others' logic. 

Connie looked around for some backup. Jean was dancing with a blonde girl; spinning her around making her giggle giving her face a lively rosyness . Jean on the otherhand had a disconnected sort of expression, his mouth stuck in a false smile and eyes with a sort of vacancy to them.It was almost annoying to observe since Connie wished he could switch places with him even if the girls were a little bothersome. It was better than this, not even a pretty face or cute giggle to enjoy. He made a note to watch his posture and catch some eyes hoping to be oh so unfortunately whisked away from this dull conversation for the sake of not being rude to a sweet lady in need. 

“Care for dance Mr.Springer.” An all too familiar cool voice said in his ear. Beside him was Mikasa with a tight smile and knowing eyes and behind her Niccolo who was a sight for sore eyes with his toothy grin. 

He wondered if they had become a couple. He thought back to three years ago to their first visit back. Mikasa had been so thin still mourning. He doubted she would ever be a ball of sunshine; she never had been as long as he knew her but she looked well. For his sake though he hoped Niccolo hadn’t made any advances because it would be Connie who would have to deal with Jean's moods. The big oaf thought he was discreet too which was funny especially when Connie continued to play innocent in his slight jabs about the subject of Mikasa. 

Connie bowed to the Lord of who cares where and pulled out his arm for Mikasa to hold as he led her to the dance floor. She was a good match; they were equal in height but now that they were older he had finally grown noticeably broader than her. 

She looked pretty, well Mikasa had always been pretty although he never dwelled on it but today she was pretty in a way he had never seen her be. Was this a new look for her or simply for the occasion. He asked rather bluntly and she answered in equal sincerity.  Although they were so different at the end of the day they were both straight shooters and it reminded him that he simply forgot to miss her as of late the longer they spoke and danced a tension that he didn’t know existed eased within him.  

“You are a good dancer… Connie or is it Ambassador Springer.” She pointed out. 

He leaned forward with an arched brow. “It’s Connie to you, always.. fair lady.” 

They both giggled. 

“Where’s -oh I see them.” 

Armin was dancing with Historias little daughter making History smile from her overly ornate perch overseeing her guests and Jean was once again spinning some nobleman's niece or merchant's daughter to her heart's delight and to his own vexation.

“Wow. I see that Jeans still a flirt.” Mikasa said offhandedly. He could swear she had pouted for a moment but Mikasa Ackerman did not pout. But then again this Mikasa Ackerman was wearing fashionable clothes with ringlets in her hair. 

“He’s just trying to get her dizzy enough to sit down and let him breathe.” Connie shrugged. 

Mikasa nodded but her eyes lingered on Jeans figure that retreated and emerged from the crowded dance floor. He would probably be a better dance partner for her but he wouldn’t offer her hand or else he would be ambushed by some other old pompous bastard.

Plus Jean could arrange his own relationships. Confront his own feelings and insecurities. Although maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe they would need a little push. Both of them were too jealous and considerate of the other for their own good. They would go nowhere for too long. 

But what did Connie know he was a simpleton after all. 

#Jeankasa #fic request #jeankasa fic #thank you for the #ask

[rcstlcsshearts]

Look who just woke up- is that TAIKA WAITITI? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s EDWARD TEACH/BLACKBEARD from OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH. I heard he is 46 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a WORN BLACK LEATHER, QUIET DEFEAT OF THE DESIRE TO LIVE A NEW LIFE WITHOUT THE ABILITY TO DO SO, FEARSOME REPUTATIONS DESPITE AN INHERENTLY GENTLE SPIRIT impression. They’re known to be quite CREATIVE, but have a tendency to be MERCURIAL on their bad days.

Gender/Pronouns  Cis male / he/him

How long have they been in Sydney? Ed has been in Sydney for nearly a year. In his memories, however, he has lived in Sydney his entire life.

Job  Ed is nothing short of a gangster. Cue the cigar, the dark rooms, the slow turning of a chair. He’s a real cad, whose reputation precedes him. Screw with Ed Teach, get the horns, and you’ll be lucky if you live ’til morning, kid. He mainly deals in exports, coming in and out of Port Botany. What kind of exports? Depends, mate, what’s your pleasure? But if you ask him, he’s just a lowly fish-monger, and content to be so.

Which suburb do they live in? Haymarket.

Memories of their real life : Coming from the moment when Blackbeard declared an “act of grace” for himself and Stede, Blackbeard has very few memories. They’ve been trickling in slowly, more like dreams. Daydreams, really. He remembers a man, well-dressed, changing his life around one stitch at a time. He remembers the feeling of salty air against his face, the sound of waves crashing against the bow of a ship, the feeling of a fine cashmere pressed against his face. To Edward, the dreams are as good as real; he just hasn’t fit together yet that they actually exist.

What was their fake life like? As far as Edward is concerned, his fake life is similar enough to his actual life to fool him. He was born in abject poverty to a father who drank too much and yelled too loudly, and a mother who did her best to keep peace. Despite the constant reminders (both by his mother and society) that he was not made for fine things, Ed never really accepted it. Au contraire: he secretly craved the finer things in life, even if he didn’t entirely understand them.

Making it his goal to “stick it” to the upper-crust, Ed hid his desire with open disdain, the mask a thin veneer to prove to everyone that he was better than them. He didn’t make many friends, but he did manage to host a “business,” even in early school. He’d purchase candy and trinkets from stores (occasionally slipping an extra into his pocket) before selling them for more than they were worth in the cafeteria. Before long, he had “lackies” who would help, and Ed got to sit back and enjoy the fruits of his labor.

His father died when he was young, and although Edward remembers very little about the event, he does remember that life was a lot better when he wasn’t around.

Ed dropped out of school when he was sixteen, instead, falling into work with some more cunning types: vagabonds, gangsters, and everyone in between. He was barely of legal age when he broke off on his own.

It’s amazing: one body washes up to shore, and everyone becomes afraid.

The thing was… Edward couldn’t even take credit for it. He did take credit, but only he knew it wasn’t his doing. Still, whatever accident befell that sorry fellow, Ed used it to his advantage. When pressed, he smiled, knowingly, commenting some vague warning in a low voice, quiet enough so the other would be forced to lean in to hear. And so his life continued.

Now, Edward is able to maintain his bustling business, under the guise of a fishery. For those who mistakenly wander into his store, Ed will sell whatever has been brought in by his crews. For those who don’t, who know what lies behind those walls, they may just make a deal with the devil.

#muse: blackbeard #thebridge: intro #death tw #murder tw #(implied)

[risingsouls]

R: The Lost Chapters: 1

[I’m not stalling writing the Android Saga what do you meeeean.

You’re half right. I need to go rewatch it and I haven’t felt up to it. BUT it’s also because I’ve had this idea swirling around in my head about Nabooru meeting the rest of the Cold family while working for Frieza so. Here it is. I’m sure I butchered King Cold and Cooler, but lbr. We have so little to go on, that I think I at LEAST did a passable job of writing two assholes :3

ANYWAY. I’ll be posting this on my writing blog with the rest of my bullshit.]

Dinner

The entirety of the atrocious day followed the deranged script of a fever dream that commingled her past and present into a horrific nightmare.

It began with Zarbon entering her quarters unannounced (“A perk of my status. In case of emergency,” he informed her), sent by Frieza to ensure her appearance not only met his day to day expectations but exceeded them for the special occasion of dinner with his father and brother. The general nitpicked every aspect of her person, from her ponytail needing to be an inch higher and shifted very slightly to the left for symmetry and picking more “palatable” shades for her makeup to directing her attention to her armor being slightly askew and one of her stockings rolling at the top. Unlike the maids tasked with helping her dress for her first formal event at Hyrule castle, he at least didn’t suggest she “lighten” her complexion or cover her accent.  The only points to his credit she would allow him. 

Their trek to meet Frieza and Dodoria at the ship’s gangplank was filled with the same types of warnings she heard from the servants or, to her greater annoyance, Ganondorf: do not speak unless spoken to. When you do speak, keep your responses short and remember your manners, or whatever excuse you have for them, and then forget them because they’re probably not good enough. Make as little eye contact as possible unless you have been addressed then be sure you make eye contact. Mind your posture, but don’t be too prissy about it; acting too uptight could be considered an insult, as could seeming too relaxed. Don’t brag too much even if presented with the opportunity. Compliments go a long way, but don’t come off as insincere. No sudden moves. Use your passable beauty to your advantage and smile.

Unlike in Hyrule, these she didn’t once consider breaking to appease her rebellious nature and remind her hosts her people would not be controlled as well as they thought. Not when they could kill her with as little as a flick to her forehead.

The interior of the Imperial Palace combined the regal opulence of Hyrule Castle with the pristine yet cold, technology-based motif of the bases dotting the empire and the ships used by those it employed. Stunning but intimidating, like the barest breath would bring it toppling down. Two stiff guards stood at every door, only bending deep at the waist and mumbling a greeting to Frieza as they passed by. Their footsteps made no sound on the plush, royal purple rug beneath their feet that ran all the way to a large pair of doors at the back of the hall, where two figures, one gargantuan and the other miniscule in his wake, stood awaiting them.

"Ah, father! My dear brother! How wonderful it is to see you!" Nabooru followed Zarbon and Dodoria and sank to one knee, head bowed low. "I do apologize for my tardiness. There is no rest for an emperor, as you both well know."

"It is of no consequence, son, despite Cooler's complaints," King Cold drawled. When the other two generals rose to their feet, she followed suit. Frieza's father and the retired emperor indeed towered over everyone present, and Nabooru marveled at how his height rivaled if not surpassed Ganondorf's. He wore a cape draped over the shoulders of armor that surprisingly matched the design of a mere soldier. Horns jutted from the white armored flesh surrounding his head like a helmet, the deep blue dome at the center of his cranium shining in the light overhead. He shared his son's piercing crimson gaze.

Had Frieza not called him brother, Nabooru never would have pinned the elder Cold sibling by sight alone. Though he shared their crimson eyes, that was where the physical similarities stopped. He lacked the horns and armored skin around the wrists and ankles as well as his father's bulk, but that did not take away from his menacing presence.

"Come along then. Our dinner should be ready shortly."

The second he turned to the door, a pair of servants bustled over to push them open, sure to bow deeply as the king and princes walked by. A long table cut the opulent dining hall in half, only the seats at the far end set for the meal. Tubes of colored light lined the walls at intervals and stretched toward the high, pointed ceiling, the shades shifting within the confines. A dazzling chandelier hung over the center of the hall. Paintings of previous Cold rulers hung in the gaps between the tubes. As she observed each one, she certainly saw the family resemblance in each one to varying degrees.

Dodoria remained at the door while Nabooru joined Zarbon at the table. She pulled out Frieza's chair while Zarbon poured wine into the emperor's glass, taking a sip before setting it down before him. They bowed and backed up a few steps. Close enough should they be needed but far enough back to allow the servants room to attend to their tasks and show respect for their betters. A blonde general followed the same routine across the table behind Cooler.

"Ah, I always feel such elation when the three of us find the time to come together for a meal," King Cold said at last. He tapped a utensil on his glass, and servants poured out with platters of food from doors hidden by large statues in the back of the hall. "It brings back memories of when the two of you were children."

"Feeling sentimental, are we father?" Frieza drawled, taking a swig of blood red wine. "I hope you didn't invite us to inform us of some staggering news of your poor health and impending death."

To Nabooru's surprise, the king wore a mirthful smile and laughed. "Such wit you have, Frieza. I've always admired your cut throat tenacity and ambition."

Cooler seemed far less impressed, alabaster brows low and obsidian lips downturned. "Too bad, Frieza. You will have to wait longer for our dearest father to pass and you inherit the factions remaining in his control."

"Come now, Cooler. If you intend to be bitter throughout the entire meal, I would prefer you excuse yourself."

Cooler's gaze narrowed slightly at his sibling across from him, and Nabooru could picture the smug smirk Frieza wore. However, he bowed his head to his father. "My apologies, father. It will not happen again."

"Excellent. I will be merciful as I know you've been dealing with some troubles in a few of your quadrants that have likely put you more on edge than usual." He tipped his glass to his lips, the cup seeming far too small in his large hand. "Perhaps you and Frieza could discuss it after our meal concludes. He has made large slides with more rebellious factions of late. He may have some pointers for you."

"I would be more than happy to impart my wisdom to you, dear brother."

Cooler's muscles tensed. Nabooru was surprised he didn't break the utensil in his hand. "I would welcome his suggestions."

"Wonderful. Now…" Cold turned his attention back to his younger heir. "I see you've brought a new guest with you?"

"Don't flatter her, father," Frieza replied with a chuckle. "Guest is far too generous a term for my new general." He waved a hand. "The aesthetic nature of my retinue felt...off. Unbalanced. Nabooru fixes that very well. Not to mention she has proved quite obedient and useful when she puts in a little effort. Zarbon and Dodoria have no doubt been a more favorable influence on her than the Saiyans."

Nabooru clenched and unclenched her hands behind her back, struggling to maintain an otherwise unbothered demeanor. The difficulty of it only exacerbated when Cold added, "Is she your new pet project, then? A replacement for Vegeta?"

Frieza mulled over his response as he chewed whatever delicacy he forked into his mouth. "In a way, I suppose. I hadn't given it much more thought. She shows potential." He swallowed. "I wouldn't call her a replacement, however. Vegeta still has much he could learn from me."

"Well, she is at least far easier on the eyes than the monkey prince. Or any other of his barbaric race," the king said with a wicked chuckle. "Where did you pick up this sparkling diamond?"

"A planet called Hyrule. An undiscovered gem until recently," he answered with haughty disinterest. "Rich in resources, and her race is one of warriors. Similar to the Saiyans, only they're all female save for their king and far more refined culturally, though that isn’t saying much. Still quite backwards and behind the times. I aided her race in conquering the planet and in exchange they oversee the planet for me and, as insurance, I added Nabooru here to my ranks."

That was at least for my skills, she thought bitterly, twisting the end of her ponytail in her fist behind her. If pretending to need to find the bathroom or throwing up in her disgust at the current vein of conversation wouldn't get her killed, she might have made a beeline for the doors.

A notion further clipped as King Cold rested his chin in his hand, attention set firmly on her. She made eye contact for only a second before bowing her head, blood boiling as she felt his gaze still glued on her. Her certainly eyed her as if she were a twinkling, precious gem.

"What did you say her name was? Nabooru?" 

"Yes, father."

"Very good. Nabooru, would you do me the honor of taking the seat next to me?" She forced her shocked expression back to one of neutrality before lifting her head again. Crimson gaze still on her, he waved a hand. "Cooler, please move down a seat to make room for our intriguing guest."

Cooler's jaw tightened, and energy crackled for just a moment around him. He did not protest and moved his plate down a spot, shifting into the chair behind it. His tail slammed the ground behind him as he did. King Cold gestured to the abandoned seat with a flourish. "Sit."

Stomach churning and nerves next to shot, Nabooru bowed low. "It would be my honor, your majesty."

To keep from garnering suspicion, she rounded the table at the opposite side of the Cold family, allowing them to keep their eyes on her all the way. She skirted behind Cooler's general and lowered herself into the seat with a gracious nod. As many diplomatic feasts as she attended with powerful men of Hyrule, with their judging or lecherous stares, their upturned noses and prejudices about her and her race, she would take that over the unease and discomfort she felt seated at the table with the most powerful and merciless  family in the empire. One wrong move, and it would be her head on one of those platters, though as she tried to remember Zarbon's advice, she could have mistaken it for her scouter being on the fritz for his words came through her memory as static.

Smile. That she remembered. And so she did.

"Tell me about yourself, Nabooru, and your home planet."

She took only the barest second to search his face for motive, but all she found was a predatory gleam in his blood red eyes and an easy, unbothered smile that, when she glanced to Frieza, she found mirrored on his son's onyx lips as he sipped his wine. Unreadable, and she didn't know if he looked at her with disdain or true interest. If he wanted to listen to her tale, kill her, or, with how he stared like the nobles of Hyrule, fuck her. Maybe it was all three. She wasn’t even sure if Arcosian anatomy allowed for the last one, but it did little to soothe her.

"As Lord Frieza stated, I came from a planet called Hyrule from a race of warriors called the Gerudo," she started. Zarbon's words slowly made headway in her consciousness, and she reminded herself to keep it short and not to brag too much. "I served as our second in command before I was graced with the honor of joining your son's army."

"Ah, that would explain why he chose you from the rest of your clan, then," Cold affirmed, "is that right, son?"

"Yes, father. The soldiers training them to utilize ki reported she was impressive and learned quickly. Her rank helped, even if it was to an unrefined race like her own."

Nabooru swallowed her biting retort, ensuring her smile did not falter. Speak only when spoken to. He didn't say anything about ripping horns out of heads…

"They had no knowledge of ki?" Cold turned back to Nabooru. "I suppose it's not unheard of, but at least three quarters of the universe's armies use and are aware of its utilization."

She nodded. "Lord Frieza said it best when he mentioned that our planet was...quite behind much of the universe. In that regard, technologically. I don't believe there was much study into what lay beyond our planet's surface, either." She felt sick as she added, "If not for his decision to train and aid us, my people would have been killed. Slowly if not outright. Our enemies far outnumbered us, a gap no amount of skill we possessed as warriors could close. Ki gave us more than enough of an edge, I imagine."

King Cold clicked his tongue. "Frieza, you didn't allow her to stay and witness her people conquering their enemies? What a pity."

"If I may." Cooler injecting himself back into conversation surprised everyone, and Nabooru was almost afraid to turn to give him her attention. His ire wafted from him in distressing waves. Cold nodded. "Thank you, father. Tell us what being a second in command to the...what did you call your race? The Gerudo? What did that position entail?"

"I acted as leader in the event of the king's absence," she began. What felt like a snake coiled around her right ankle. She cleared her throat to camouflage her surprise when she realized it was no serpent but Cooler's tail. "I also acted as an advisor to the king and a general of our army as well as head of our Elite."

The last syllable came out half an octave higher and accompanied by a snap as Cooler's tail squeezed her ankle with crushing force. Pain ripped through her from the site of the break and the continued pressure on it. Not the worst pain she had ever felt, but it made it increasingly difficult to maintain her smile when a grimace wished to overtake it.

"Intriguing." Cooler's tail constricted tighter. Another snap and flare of pain. None of the parties seemed bothered by it. "It seems you found a well-rounded brute this time, Frieza. A far better base to work with than your Saiyan pet."

"True, brother. If I could merge the two, taking her experience in leadership and combining it with Vegeta's raw power and ruthlessness, I truly would have the perfect general." He sighed. "But I take what I can get in this lowly universe. She can still be molded into something close."

Cooler squeezed again, and Nabooru dug her nails into her thighs. Finally, he released her. She didn't need to look to know her ankle was shattered. "And with more reason to remain loyal to you, with that magnanimous decision of yours to rescue her race. They'll sing your praises for eons to come. Isn't that right, Nabooru?"

She relaxed and focused on the task at hand. On not being killed for making a face. Though she clued in on his words. More reason to remain loyal than Vegeta...Was he confirming the prince's suspicion about Frieza's involvement in the betrayal and destruction of the Saiyans? "That is correct, your highness."

"A marvelous addition to your posse, to be sure," King Cold rejoined. "More proof that the spoils of our conquests are not always drenched in blood or brutish warriors looking to make a name for themselves or foolishly dethrone our family. Some simply wish to show their gratitude to their benefactors."

The urge to vomit returned, but instead she simply flashed the king and his younger son a charming smile and a bow of her head. The image of demure fealty. It worked in Hyrule, and both conquerors seemed satisfied with her display. Benefactor. Gratitude. For being made a slave to the whims of a violent and tyrannical emperor who would kill her and her people for her slightest misstep. She was more grateful for her busted ankle.

"Perhaps once she has worn out her usefulness to me, I can gift her to you, father," Frieza suggested. "Since you seem so fond of her."

"So thoughtful, Frieza. I believe she would make a fine addition to my royal company."

"Very well. For the moment, I need her to aid me with keeping the monkeys busy and on task, but once that is no longer a necessity, we can see about her transferring here."

Nabooru's heart sank straight to the pit of her stomach. Helplessness stoked her rage, but reason quelled it to a dull roar for the sake of her life. To them, she was no more than a commodity to be passed around like a child's toy. Bent, used, and, once she broke, tossed aside and destroyed. She had no agency, no say in her future. With such a promise, her chances of ever seeing her home again dwindled further than ever.

More than ever, she manifested, pleaded with whatever god would listen, for Vegeta's and Nappa's success on Earth. Only with Frieza's defeat would she ever see her people again.

The rest of the meal continued without returning to her as a topic of conversation and no further bodily harm to her person. She maintained a docile and delighted presence despite her inner torment and the usually horrendous topics they discussed and dubbed “the business.” When she left the hall with Dodoria (Zarbon and Frieza would remain at the palace for the night while Nabooru and Dodoria returned to the ship to check on the crew and prepare for their leave the following day), it took significant effort to mask her limp. But her failure to do so piqued Dodoria's curiosity and annoyance. Citing it as a training injury, he scolded her for not taking care of it before and sent her to the medical bay. He promised that she would be making the time up to him by taking on some of his duties over the next week. She didn't argue. She was simply glad she wasn’t asked to spend the night warming anyone’s bed.

Healed and finished with her appointed tasks and the extra drudgery Dodoria added on, she returned to her quarters well into the night. The increasingly frigid temperatures of the planet crept into the ship, though, despite her disdain for the cold, she hardly felt it as she fell onto her bed. She stared up at the ceiling, tears of rage flooding her gold eyes. It was nothing new, but her blood boiled with indignance, shame, and the further shredding of her pride. Her heart broke in fear for her future and with the helplessness of her situation. She was disposable and unappreciated. Another number, another cog. As easily replaced and shoved elsewhere as the next person. She had no value. No worth. No agency. And she could do nothing about it. If Frieza wanted to hand her over to his father to serve him instead, whatever that would entail, she would have no say in the matter unless she wanted to worsen the situation or be killed. She could be abused and belittled, killed by his kin or anyone else, and he wouldn’t bat an eye. But the worst of it all was that she could do nothing about it. She wasn’t strong enough to, even if her people’s fate wasn’t on the line. Trapped between obligation to the Gerudo and self-preservation.

The Gerudo. The only thing that kept her from succumbing to madness or offing herself to preserve her pride. How she missed them. She missed the Saiyans, too. Raditz, who she would never see again. Nappa. Even Vegeta. Her fingers twitched at her side, and she considered swiping her scaouter off her dresser where she dropped it and calling her former comrades, just to hear a remotely friendly voice. Nappa’s likely. Vegeta still refused to speak with her if he didn’t have to.

Instead, she yanked the pillow from beneath her head and screamed into it until her lungs gave out.

#fic: recruited the lost chapters #:: nabooru ☀ #*sad trumpets sounding* #the cold family is awful #to each other and everyone else #idk if cooler would BE that petty #but u no #i almost made this more angsty and grosser #because idk ever since i first saw him #king cold gave me those creep king vibes #like not only his he a merciless killer and conqueror #but he likes the finer things and the pleasures of life more than his kids #especially now that he's retired #BUT i decided to keep it out becuase this was ick enough

[tteokdoroki]

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining  your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you.  “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you.  his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell,  h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor  and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release  deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!”  you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass.  “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole—  screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and  that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara​ @greenchild​

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[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

-

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 

NextChapter

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x reader #reader insert #smut #hannibal #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal x reader

[adiabolikpastel]

Laito's Birthday Mun Musing

Hello Everyone!

So, this year for Laito's Birthday - I find myself ill-prepared, as I often am, and don't have a skit or art piece for your viewing pleasure. For that, I am deeply sorry!

In light of that, I thought it would be nice to muse with you a little about Laito. More specifically, how I envision Laito growing in the Tormented Reverie: Another Daydream story (for those who may not know, TR: AD is the sequel to TR, which is where future Yuuki, Kanato & the Kanuki kids are). Basically, what I am thinking of while I design adult Laito!

There will be quite a bit going into this, so continue reading under the cut and enjoy! Also, feel free to leave comments or send in ask about the design idea.

Status

In this cannon, Laito does not inherit Karlheniz power. While this universe does exist separate from Excruciating Duplicity - the idea of another boy taking the crown still stands. Honestly I always default to Shu - but for Tormented Reverie there isn't any one specifically. Since the stories are tied into a lot of other outside OC blogs I sway things to fit those narratives as well - so it would not be Ayato (due to @pureblood-prey's time line) nor would it be Subaru (due to @subaruxayano). Which leaves Shu or Reiji (who does have a plot in (@silencieux-aube).

So, as you can see it gets a little tunneled as we move to get a boy on the throne. Since I don't have another blog that has a Shu ship that my character are tied with - I tend to default to Shu. With Reiji being his personal hand to the King. This would leave all the others to be Lords of the land - since the cannon gave us no real understanding of what the sibling of the king does - I play around with the idea.

Much like his brother, Kanato, Laito holds power over lands - though he hardly ever does his job. Most of the time, he can be found in his private home - having parties and spending more money than his people can afford. I envision a future where whomever of his elder brothers that took the throne would never call on him for anything. Because of this, most of his duties and such are taken care of and seen to by this trusted lover - Yuki (I would go on into how Yuki is doing during this time bu~ut this is about Laito, so another time!).

Personality / Family

Laito has not changed much over the centuries. As indulgent as ever, he likes to delve into the finer things in life. Not just with sexual ventures, but in every aspect of his day to day. The man has no real responsibilities that are enforced so he kind of just does whatever he wants.

His relationship with his brothers has not improved but also has not gotten worse. While they grew up to have children, Laito did not. He does enjoy seeing his many nieces and nephews, but has no desire to have any of his own.

Looks

While I do not paly this game, I saw some fan art for the character Joseph from Identity V and literally saw Laito. The images below just captured every aspect that I envision when I think of a grown Laito - except with more mature facial features.

art by: 太阳神的茉莉花环

art credited to: 画师 猫目

His hair grown out, and finally we loose the fedora. While I think he would wear it out - it is not a staple clothing item of his anymore. I like to think that he grew his hair out to symbolize the royal blood in his veins - as by the time they are adults the truth behind their blood comes to light. Additionally, I like to think he is the only one who does grow out their hair. It feels like all the other boys would try to keep a more clean and mature look. Where as he is party mode.

#mun post #laito sakamaki #happy birthday #future musing

[killjoyhistoryarchive]

Photograph by Claire Vogel.

EXCLUSIVE interview with Nate Weaver–director of photography on the “Art Is the Weapon” video

I recently reached out to Nate Weaver (director of photography on the “Art Is The Weapon” video), and he graciously agreed to answer some questions about the filming process. Read on to learn more about the creative process behind the launch of the Danger Days era!

—

1. Are there any props, characters, or concepts that didn’t make it to the video? I watching a behind-the-scenes video for “Na Na Na” and was surprised to see at least a few things that didn’t make it into the actual video. Was there anything that you guys filmed or discussed that weren’t included in the final cut?

You know, I’m a bad person to ask. I was there, but the place was literally blanketed in all these props and dressing that Jason and Gerard had come up with. All the art was carted out to the set days beforehand, and by the time I got there it looked like the Killjoys had been there for a week. I couldn’t keep track. You have to understand that Gerard was the source of all this stuff…Jason was adding and fleshing out plenty of ideas, but Gerard’s creativity was the source of everything and it was very off-the-cuff and free flowing.

2. One of my favorite scenes from the “Art Is The Weapon” video is Kobra Kid flinching and covering his ears at the sound of a gunshot. How much insight did the cast have into their characters’ personalities? Did they ever suggest certain scenes or details for their characters?

It’s really difficult for me to say, on music videos traditionally directors do not get too involved in “directing” the finer points of an artist (or their character). In a lot of music videos, what band members decide to bring to the screen is very much their decision because that character likely is on display in other ways.

That said, I’m pretty sure I remember the idea of Mikey flinching was Gerard’s idea. All the scenes we shot were pre-determined well in advance, so as far as did Ray, or Frank, or Mike come up with any of the scenes, I can’t say.

3. How and why was the Four Aces set chosen? What made the crew decide that a diner/gas station was the perfect place to introduce the Killjoys? Did you consider any other locations before you started filming?

This was a decision made by Gerard (to my knowledge) relatively early on. If I had to guess, the reasoning was practical. It’s tough to find a small geographic area that can give you a lot of different looks and places to play around in. But it was a fun playground!

4. What kind of steps did the cast and crew take to really “transform” the set, making it look like something from the Danger Days universe and not just a generic diner?

Well, I think one of the keys is knowing that we all knew that it was never supposed to look like a diner necessarily. Or a motel. Jason Fijal had a lot of ground to cover. I would guess that he was busy building gizmos like Dr. Death’s radio console and collecting props for a good week beforehand, if not more. And then at that point, it’s just him looking at a list of scenes we have on the shotlist, and dressing those sets the day before. I remember we had to have a couple discussions about how to turn the motel’s front office into Dr. Death’s radio station. But luckily for us, it was all supposed to be post-apocalyptic, makeshift anyway!

5. What was the creative process like? How did you and Gerard work together to make a video that matched his vision?

It was like holding onto a firehose? But I would mean that in the best way. I mean, I’m glad you asked, because I’ve been lucky enough in my music video career to work with some very incredible, creative people. Gerard though is one of the most freely creative people I’ve ever had the pleasure to meet and work with. From the very first meeting, I quickly realized that Gerard had this world very fully realized in his head, and I’d need to hang on and just try to fill the few gaps in his plan with photography and filming approach that fit his vision. Gerard was really the director. And I couldn’t have been more happy than to just help him get all that stuff out of his head and onto the screen. It was fast, it was chaotic, and it was one of the most freely creative shoots I’ve ever been a part of. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

6. What was a typical day at the shoot like? What duties and responsibilities did you have?

(Since mine was only a one day shoot, I have to kind of breeze over the ‘typical’ part.)

I have to comment that there was nothing typical about this shoot…it wasn’t typical because we had so much to shoot in one day, because Gerard was so involved in almost everything, I could go on and on. It was the best kind of not-typical.

A lot of people might think a director is responsible for everything, but really a director is (hopefully), overseeing a lot of talented people and just letting them do their thing and making sure it all meshes to the director’s vision. So if you say Gerard was a director because it was his idea, and he was very interested in certain details of how it was all brought to life, then my job as co-director was doing all the director jobs that he was too busy to do because he was in front of the camera so much. That means breaking rough ideas for scenes into a shotlist, deciding how it was going to be lit, and “gap filling” other creative decisions that needed to be made. Where the camera goes, where the cuts will be, etc.

7. From what you’ve said, it sounds like the schedule was pretty rapid-fire. Do you think it would have turned out differently if the crew had more time, or was the tight schedule the perfect way to squeeze out creative energy?

Well, unfortunately, it’s almost always the case that if you had more time or money there would be improvements. I would have loved for it to be a two-day shoot. But I have to realize that most of those improvements would be to things like lighting, and maybe more coverage on some of the more peripheral concepts Gerard had. But the core of why people seemed to like it as much as they did…all that would have been the same. I doubt it would have been a “better” piece in the fans eyes if we had more time.

And yes, I do think the circumstances of all of it made it a little bit to the screen. It was to be a rapid fire trailer. So if by the end of the day the feeling of “getting things done” came across as urgency on the screen, it all fit together.

8. Finally, are there any fun/interesting stories from the shoot that you could share?

This may already be common knowledge, I don’t know, but when the guys are sitting in the diner eating scavenged food, all the cans were supposed to be vegetarian chili I think. Mikey wasn’t into real chili. But I think what the art department got by accident was either real chili or refried beans? Mikey was genuinely really grossed out by having to eat this stuff, but he barely said a word and at the end of the take was trying to spit it out I think. It was hilarious, but I felt bad he wound up doing something he was so grossed out by! After I called cut he’s like sputtering and trying to get this stuff out and everybody’s laughing.

Before I we finish, I just want to say again how awesome this project was to work on. In making music video, it’s not always what it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes people are difficult, sometimes the conditions are a pain. I was a late MCR fan, I didn’t get “it” until Three Cheers. But going into it, I wasn’t counting on it feeling like a bunch of people getting together and making a short movie for fun, with the added benefit of having some resources to get those fun ideas on screen. It’s so rare to have a great time on a shoot, and then the final product turns out amazing as well. Everybody involved was awesome, and I can’t stress enough how awesomely easy and low-key it was to work with Gerard, Ray, Mike & Frank. It will always be a really fond memory in my life; gratifying beyond words!

[Originally published 08.08.2018]

#reuploads #not killjoyhistory #my chemical romance #nate weaver #gerard way #mikey way #frank iero #ray toro #claire vogel #interviews #behind the scenes #na na na video #jason fijal #exclusive

[loliwrites]

blurb idea 💡: what if alex and addi have a romantic date night in and then have them explore their creampie kink? 👀

Anony, I love you. I really do. This might be longer than a blurb because I actually love this 👀

(Y’all. Merry freakin’ Christmas 🥵)

If there’s one thing Alexander Skarsgård is good at (and there’s definitely more than one thing) it’s being a romantic sap for an at home date night. And you can fight me on that. Because he’s one of those guys that’s pretty low-key but also really enjoys the finer things in life. So you know he pops open a nice bottle of red wine and moseys around the kitchen with a dish towel slung over his shoulder. And it’s all just very masculine and very sexy -- like would you not pay money to watch that man cook a meal? COME ON, PEOPLE. Alexander Skarsgård. Chicken Parmesan. It doesn’t get better than that.

Anywho -- I digress.

Addi stood outside by the fire pit, admiring the flames and the peaceful view of the canyon they had from the backyard of the AirBnB they were staying in. With a glass of wine in her hand, every so often, she took a slow, pensive sip. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it... oh far from it. The slowness -- and the pensiveness -- was because she couldn’t get the image of Alex chopping wood for the fire out of her brain. The way he so effortlessly lifted the axe above his head, and then with laser precision, THWACKED it against the log, splitting it in two. The way he brushed his fingers through his hair as it dangled in his eyes, a little bit longer now than usual. The way he assembled the logs in the fire pit and then set it ablaze, smiling... staring at his job well done when the wood caught aflame.

She glanced back through the French doors and saw Alex moving about the kitchen, cleaning up from their meal. He set a couple plates in the dishwasher, then dried his hands on the dish towel hung over his shoulder. She could tell by the purse of his lips, that he was humming a tune. No doubt a song that carried over in his subconscious from the Frank Sinatra record that played throughout dinner. A feeling of overwhelming love for that man rushed through her. This beacon of strength and loyalty that’s taken root in her life.

One last look at the fire as the flames start to get smaller and smaller; burning away at the last bits of wood, before she stepped back inside the house and approached Alex. He was all too consumed with the dishes and humming to realize she’d come back in. When she neared, she heard that the humming wasn’t quite humming. He was mumbling the lyrics to himself. Yes, you’re lovely with your smile so warm. And your cheek so soft...

Addi wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. He looked over his shoulder and grinned. There is nothing for me but to love you... He dried his hands on the towel, then spun in her grasp to face her. His hands cupped her face, and he smiled harder with his thumbs rubbing back and forth along her cheeks. “Kid, just the way you look...” a quick peck on her lips, “tonight.”

“You are, without a doubt, the sappiest human being I’ve ever met,” she giggled softly and leaned into his body a little more. When she met him, she wouldn’t have thought that. The more she got to know him, the more evident that became.

He only smiled and nodded. It’s the truth and who is he to fight it? He bent in for another kiss, this one longer than a peck, and let it linger on her lips. There was a brief moment before he lifted his hand to her neck and pressed his fingers to the back of it, keeping her close to him. She had no intention of pulling away -- make out sessions were severely underrated. And even more so with Alex. His actions, soft yet aggressive, kept her hooked. She hummed into his mouth; an expression of satisfaction and pleasure, and reached up to loop her hands behind his neck. He forced his tongue into her mouth, nimble hands exploring her breasts, hips, and finally her ass as she leaned into him. A silent beg to be picked up.

She was in his arms in mere moments. One hand on her back and the other cradling her ass. Addi hooked her ankles together around his waist and arched her back, sending her chest flush to his. A muted growl vibrated past his throat, full of lust and desire. But there was something else there too. And the slowness... and intensity of his kisses clued her in to what that other thing was. Patience. A longing to remember how this would feel in this moment -- the press of her fingertips at the base of his neck, the pounding of her heart that he could feel through his chest, the almost imperceptible squeezing of her thighs around his waist...

Alex made his way toward the bedroom; so effortlessly with her clung to the front of him. Not once did he break their kiss. Seemingly moving on autopilot through the open floor plan, he kept his kisses intentional, purposeful. She could hardly believe they’d made it to the bedroom without incident until she felt him bending at the knee on the bed to lay her down on it. 

Addi uncurled her legs and arms from around him; allowed him to sit back on his haunches and tug his knit sweater over his head. She bit her bottom lip, smiling and blushing at the sight of this man -- her man -- carved out of something like renaissance marble. Her legs were bent, feet pressed into the mattress, creating a space for him, but the long, linen burgundy dress over her frame kept her covered. His eyes floated over her figure momentarily, then he leaned in with hands pressed to the bed on either side of her head, and flexed to give her another long, passionate kiss. She grinned into it, drifting a hand from his shoulders and down the ridges of his back as far as she could. The feather-lightness of her touch ignited him and he sat back, helping her up with him. 

She looked up at him, trying not to focus too greatly on the fact that he cupped the bulge in his pants and adjusted while he watched her work the dress up her legs and over her hips. He was done in time to gather it and help pull it over her head. But the cinched waist made it a bit of a task getting it off. Even with her arms raised to accommodate it, she still got tangled up in the fabric. They both giggled at the inconvenience simultaneously, just seconds before he freed her from it and tossed it off the side of the bed. Her cheeks were pink, a playful glint in her eye when she found his gaze once again. And it took a stronger man than he to not give her another kiss.

A gentle moan floated out of her mouth and into his as she pawed at his waist, palming his crotch. He could give her what she wanted and not lose the contact of her lips that he loved so much. His pants and briefs were down his thighs with unmatched skill and speed. And it was then, as he kneeled back and got off the bed to rid himself of them completely, that he fully appreciated the lingerie she’d worn beneath her dress.

He took a moment. A breath. Just a second to gather himself. Then with his exhale and a pant, “you’re gonna kill me, kid.”

She dragged her fingers down the center of her chest, over her stomach, and tickled the skin just above her underwear, all while keeping her eyes on him. “Hopefully not before the sex,”

Another needy growl and he was back over her, this time with his lips over the thin, merlot-colored lace covering her breasts. It hardly hid or contained anything at all... a point reinforced to Alex when he licked over her breast and felt her nipple harden to it. When he did the same to the other, Addi curled her fingers in his hair and pulled softly. She lifted her hips off the bed and pressed them into his impatiently. Almost embarrassed by the level that he was turning her on simply by taking his time, she tucked her head into his neck and kissed him on that tender spot she knew drove him crazy. A nibble, a wet suck, and a kiss. And then a repeat of all three until it earned her the reward she’d been hoping for -- Alex nudging her underwear down and off.

Her mouth was still performing its ministrations on his neck when she felt his fingers at her core. She already knew how wet she was for him, but upon him feeling it, the air left his lungs with a sudden, weak groan. His head bowed further into hers. All movement in his body seemed to pause, with the exception of his fingers that parted her folds and pressed into her slowly. 

A small squeak died in her throat and she threw her head back onto the pillow, knowing Alex was staring at her although her eyes were squeezed shut. She navigated her hand between them and wrapped her hand around his shaft, stroking him gently, trying to ease him closer to her entrance... to replace his fingers. Always concerned about her pleasure first, he took her hand off of him and eased his fingers out while he started to kiss his way down her stomach.

And she knew what he was going to do, and she loved him for it, but it wasn’t what she wanted right now. “Later,” she mumbled, her throat having gone dry some time ago.

Alex stopped, flicked his eyes up to hers.

“Later. Just... please... I want you inside me,”

Never one to disappoint, especially not sexually, he lined himself up with her and pressed his hips forward, sinking into her with ease. His jaw dropped open at the first feeling. Her muscles and walls were already squeezing, clinging to him. He shut his eyes in a mild wince while shallow, labored breaths came out of her. She clawed at his hip, urging him lower, deeper inside her until the overwhelming fullness of him reached its peak. He settled and paused, and cupped his hand over her cheek. Just as he was about to praise her, her body cut him off by pulsating around him. He bared his teeth to stave off the pleasure and tucked his hand behind her back to unclasp her bra.

Her chest was already bright red; the blush was creeping its way up her neck and cheeks. And once Alex gained the composure and fortitude to not bust in her right then and there, he began rocking himself in and out. This feeling -- this purely blissful feeling, that could halt and suspend her in time and space, was sure to never feel in the slightest bit ordinary. It never mattered if it was rough and haphazard, lazy and tired, or this sensual act of coming together... she felt like this was the meaning of life and love. To give herself over so freely to another human being and to receive him in his entirety in return. That giving into this extremely physical display of affection and adoration would always be something that bonded them together whether the future had those plans or not.

With each pull out, Alex buried himself back inside her. A rhythmic push and pull that had her head spinning and her heart pounding at the same time. Her body was buzzing with pleasant chemicals and hormones, edging her closer and closer to a climax. She pressed her hands to his back and forced him down on her; his weight settling the involuntary shivers of her body that were punctuated by his thrusts. Their eyes were locked on each other’s, Addi offering small nods and Alex murmuring the softest, most loving praise to her. 

A particularly tight squeeze of her around him and Alex dropped his forehead to hers, letting out a deep moan, “god, I love you.” He sealed it with a hard kiss that left her feeling her pulse in her lips. 

She lifted her head off the pillow, trying to keep their mouths locked together despite Alex pulling back to look down between their bodies, watching himself slide in and out of her with ease. Addi dug her fingernails into his triceps, “you’re gonna...” she choked on a moan. “You’re gonna make...”

“I know,” he whispered through a strained breath. He bottomed out with his next thrust and groaned, “I feel it.” Then with a strength he hadn’t exuded all night, he snapped his hips forward into her. Just one. And it made her shriek. “C’mon, sweet girl. Come for me,”

He set his hand on her cheek again. This time his fingers pressed on the back of her head, lifting it just slightly off the pillow until she looked up at him. Her grip on his arms tightened like he held the key to every last bit of her composure. And the second she caught his fierce, intense gaze, she felt the coil deep in her gut snap. Her legs responded first, clutching onto Alex’s hips like they’d be strong enough to cease his movement. When they weren't, her entire body arched off the bed, shaking and stuttering in a way that she couldn’t control regardless of how hard she tried. That was followed by a sharp cry that pierced through her lungs and was swallowed by Alex when he kissed her.

Alex held on to her just as tightly as she was doing to him. His hips stilled with one last hard, deep thrust. Eyes blinked languidly and an animalistic moan tore through him. He felt himself twitch inside her, giving her every last drop of what he had.

They both paused, panting. Addi swallowed with a cringe against her dry and raw throat. But whatever discomfort came from that was edged away when Alex sat back on his knees and gave another playful thrust. Her body reacted strongly, still buzzing from her climax, and she reached forward to set her hands on the front of his waist in order to keep him still.

“Let me see it, sweet girl?” The soft, innocent lilt of his voice left her breathless. How could he sound so adorable while asking something so dirty of her?

However, she nodded without hesitation. Once he knew she’d go along, he slowly pulled himself out of her; his mouth hanging open as he did so. Unsheathed from her, he brought his hand to his length and administered long, slow strokes to himself.

Addi moaned and kept her eyes focused on his face. She hummed out softly and squeezed in upon herself; the emptiness feeling more formidable now. It was like she could see the exact moment his brain melted. His eyes went partially glassy, he lowered his free hand to her inner thigh and rubbed his thumb along her smooth skin, and the noise that came out of his mouth when he saw his come dripping out of her, sounded like heaven.

She could see the focus in his eyes. The primal, possessive focus that completely enjoyed watching the product of their rendezvous seep out of her. His strokes got slower and Addi hummed to get his attention back. He looked back up into her eyes and his smile got wider. All she could do was giggle at the blissed out expression on his face, and she caught him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders when he came back down to her.

She kissed his jaw, then his neck, and pressed her head back against the pillow as he backed up and looked down at her. Alex brushed his fingertip down the bridge of her nose and over her lips. The absent grin on his face, like he didn’t even realize he was still smiling, made Addi chuckle.

“Sappiest human being I know,” she whispered, forcing her eyes off of his just to look up at his forehead when she pushed her hand back through his hair.

He bowed his head in a nod and planted a quick, soft kiss to the center of her chest. “I know, slugger, I know,” 

“But I love you for it,”

This time a kiss to her lips. They breathed each other in, taking their time. And although she could’ve stayed in that kiss for ages, he pulled away and drifted the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

“Let me clean us up,” he said it and went to get up simultaneously.

But Addi held on like her life depended on it and caged him right where he was. “Just a little bit longer like this,”

He might’ve thought better of it but she looked up at him with big doe eyes and he became a weak man. Alex bowed his head and pressed his lips to her neck, laying slow, purposeful kisses to her skin. Each one lasted a little longer than the one before it, and sprinkled in here and there, were quick swipes of his tongue. Addi took a deep breath in through her nose and squeezed her arms around him tighter, as if she was challenging the universe to try and take him out of her embrace.

#alexander skarsgard drabble #alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard #alex skarsgard #naughty al #but a lot of fluff #date night in

[cameoappearance]

Don't Starve characters: Sims 2 aspirations edition

(for the like 3 people who are into both games and anyone else I can drag along with my enthusiasm)

Wilson: Knowledge monotype; he exhibits the classic Knowledge Sim flaw of putting his curiosity above his self-preservation instinct. And his social life.

Knowledge Sim (fondly denigrating)

Willow: Fire is not an aspiration, unfortunately. I might pick Pleasure or Pleasure/Popularity instead? Pleasure is kind of the "screw around having fun with few long-term goals" aspiration.

Wolfgang: Popularity might be a good choice for his primary aspiration; I can't resist the urge to put Grilled Cheese as his secondary aspiration, although if it weren't for that, Popularity/Family would be a logical choice.

Wendy: Preteen, therefore Grow Up aspiration

WX-78: "World domination" doesn't fit very well into the aspiration system. Fortune is too materialistic, Popularity is too nice. (The Sims 2 GBA does have an "Intimidating" aspiration, and there's an unfinished, dummied-out "Power" aspiration in the main Sims 2 game that combines elements of Popularity and Fortune.) I suppose they could be an incredibly vindictive Popularity Sim if you reflavoured "friend" as "minion", since that aspiration already has a vindictive streak.

Wickerbottom: Knowledge monotype

Knowledge Sim (compliment)

Woodie: What DOES Woodie want out of life, besides trees? He doesn't want kids enough for Family aspiration, but Romance is about being a casanova, so his bond with Lucy isn't helpful here. He might be a friendly enough guy for the Popularity aspiration?

Wes: Popularity/Pleasure maybe, both to suit his artistic aspirations and because he likes both friendship and simple pleasures.

Maxwell: Probably Popularity/Fortune, although I could see a reversal of that; he's clearly not very good at being a Popularity Sim since the bread and butter of that aspiration is wanting to have lots of friends, but this could be explained by personality point distribution (he's on the former rather than the latter side of the Shy/Outgoing and Mean/Nice scales). He does fit the other foci of the Popularity aspiration with his desire to be famous and well-regarded, and his insistence on sticking with a performing arts career instead of taking a duller but more profitable job when he was having money problems.

I could make a case for Knowledge being his secondary aspiration instead given his history with delving into arcane secrets, but I don't think that takes precedence over his taste for the finer things in life.

Wagstaff: Knowledge/Fortune; scientific discovery is clearly important to him (and he has all the Knowledge Sim flaws Wilson does) but so is putting his discoveries to use, and even if it's just a means to fund his experiments he definitely cares about making money and can be unscrupulous about how he gets it, c.f. his line for Snake Oil.

Knowledge Sim (derogatory)

Winona: Family/Knowledge, possibly? Knowledge aspiration is the closest I can think of for her interest in machines and building things, although that conflicts with her disinterest in academics.

Wigfrid: Might be Popularity monotype since "Win a Fight" is a Popularity want.

Webber: Grow Up

Walani: Pleasure monotype, most likely. I could see Pleasure/Popularity with an outside chance of Pleasure/Family if you were keen to give her a secondary aspiration.

Warly: Family/Pleasure because the Pleasure aspiration has a lot of food-focused stuff in it (the only reason he's not Family monotype).

Woodlegs: Fortune/Pleasure, the most piratey aspiration combo

Wilbur: He would probably be modeled as a pet, which don't have aspirations.

Wilba: Pleasure monotype for now, as an adolescent; might pick up a secondary aspiration later.

Wormwood: Popularity monotype

Wheeler: Pleasure/Knowledge seems like the most adventurous aspiration combo

Wortox: I was 110% ready to say Pleasure monotype, but Popularity is the only aspiration with the Pull Prank want, so Pleasure/Popularity it is!

Wurt: Grow Up

Walter: Either Grow Up if he's still in the child age stage or Knowledge (no secondary aspiration *yet*, but he sure likes cryptids, a noted Knowledge Sim trait) if he's at the beginning of the teen age stage.

You may be noticing a lot of Popularity sims in this mix, but DST *is* a co-op game with like a PG rating, so I think it's just the power of friendship at work and not me being biased and/or using that aspiration as a catchall. Probably.

#the sims #don't starve #dont starve #don't starve together #sims 2 #dst #the maxwell's island crew #dash stretcher #i remember the days when you could nest bullet point levels in tumblr lists #those were good days #your host is a self diagnosed knowledge/popularity sim

[marshmallowprotection]

Do you have any headcanons of what each of the RFA members (incl V & Saeran) would be like as a best friend? Like supporting an MC through a difficult time, doing hobbies together? ^^

Yoosung

Yoosung is the kind of friend that you can always talk to about anything even if he has no idea what’s going on. He’s very outgoing and he interacts with a lot of different people, and one can’t imagine that he’s not the kid that tries everything once to see if he fits in, but he never fits into one mold specifically so this is why he is so versatile. 

So, he’s quick to keep up with you even if he’s not into what you’re into, he asks a lot of questions and tries to learn why it means so much to you because he’ll try everything once! It’s sincerely sweet the way that devotes himself to things in this manner, and he’s a trooper if he’s not the best at it the first time, liking cooking, or things that require a bit of practice to get things right the first time. 

Jaehee

Jaehee is that kind of friend that’s always reminding you to take care of yourself and helps you remember what you may not always. Like, if you pointedly say to her that you struggle to remember something, she’ll shoot you a text and let you know because she’s always organized and on top of everything. She’s got mom friend written all over her, so that’s just the kind of person that she is. 

She puts herself out there and tries her best for the people that mean a lot to her in such a way. She’s rather meticulous so it might take you some time to get used to how blunt she can be when it comes to that. She’s the friend that will gush with you about whatever idol you’re into, or whatever has really sparked your fancy as long as you’re willing to do the same with her for Zen. 

Zen

Zen is that friend that is ride or die, and that means that he’s always going to be there for you and he’s always going to support you. He knows what it feels like to not have anyone believe in him and he vowed to himself that he would never let anyone feel alone like that if he had a say about it. 

So, if you’re looking for a person to hype you up, or to cheer you on when you’re trying something new or when you need to hear some positive reassurance, then you can always look to Zen. It’s easy to talk to him, and he’s always play flirting with his friends, it’s very coy but don’t think too much of it if it’s clear that the two of you are just friends. It is just the way he gets his kicks. He will always be that guy in your left field. 

Jumin

Jumin is a friend that you can always debate with and talk to about things that others may not understand. This man is always looking for someone to discuss things with, and you don’t have to worry about a long argument as he doesn’t do that, he looks for discussions so he can learn something and adjust his thinking accordingly. 

He’s that guy that will hear you say something and want to inquire more about why you feel that way or think that way. He’s also just someone that is willing to be a listening ear when you need it. That being said, he also has a lot of niche interesting that people don’t expect, so look this man in the eyes and ask him about mythology or obscure information about the occult, you won’t even believe how long he can talk. Jumin is the easiest person to talk to. 

Seven

Seven is that friend that is always trying to look out for you or help you smile when he can help it. He plays a lot of pranks and teases people but it’s not for his pleasure or anything, he’s trying to get people to loosen up and calm down cause they clearly need a break. He does know when to take things seriously in your case, though, so don’t worry about him going overboard by teasing you or the others. 

He’s the one person that you can call at any time of day for a distraction, chances are, he’s looking for the same thing and your call makes him feel a lot better. It isn’t always a call where you address the lower things that are on your minds, it’s more-so just looking for company in the midst of chaos. There will be late nights with him where you’re just talking about something ridiculous but it’s obvious that there’s more to it than that. You both just need a break.

V

In the right headspace, V is the kind of friend that always looks out for you. He tends to mother hen those that he’s around, but that’s just something that he kind of fell into after the past decade of his life had taken over every aspect of his mind. You have to remind him to watch out for himself sometimes but he’s working on that, so have a little patience for him when it comes to that. It’s a learning process and he’s trying his best to equal out how much he gives to others and to himself. 

He’s also a lot like Jumin in the regard that he is likely to pull out pleasantries and talk to you about deep methodical terminology and symbolism for things that you may may not know a lot about, but he wants to share that with you because that’s that of his one of his favorite things to do. He’s kind of a bigger dork than people realize because he frets over the little things and if someone will read into something different than him, look forward to walking around a museum with him and discussing the finer points of fine art. 

Saeran

When it comes to friends, Saeran has never had any and he doesn’t know how to make a friendship work. He gets the idea behind it but that doesn’t mean he is prepared for how it actually is. He’s spent a lot of time thinking about it but it isn’t one of those things that he gets. He spends a lot of time fretting over what he is and isn’t supposed to do with a friend. It becomes kind of an overwhelming thing for him, oftentimes asking you if this or that is okay as he tries to be a real good friend for you. 

A friendship with him is spending a lot of time together in comfortable silence and when there’s no silence, you prod him to tell you about things that interest him a lot. Once you get him started about the garden he’s working on what he’s been doing in the kitchen, he opens up like you wouldn’t believe. He’s just never had the chance to talk about things that interest with at any length with another person and he enjoys that you’re willing to do that with him. He always listens to you about things you love to, in return for being willing to hear him out. 

#mysme #mysticmessenger #mystic messenger #saeran choi #choi saeran #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #jihyun kim #kim jihyun #jumin han #han jumin #jaehee kang #kang jaehee #hyun ryu #ryu hyun #yoosung kim #kim yoosung #anon #ask #mod kait

[holyfirex]

task 14.

birth name: Valentino Tomás Luca de Todos los Santos de Borbón y Castillo. legal name: Nathaniel Louis Moreno. nicknames: Nate. Nathan. age: 26. sexual orientation: exploring - will happily let an Illyrian cry baby bend him over while doing unspeakable things to a shadowsinger.  occupation: Owner of Ambrosia - a restaurant located in Brooklyn. personality:  nathaniel is the embodiment of sophistication and lover of life. he takes pleasure in the finer things, while also finding time to enjoy the simple as well. he has always thrived, no matter the situation he has been placed in. most would call him docile, a true gentleman. however, nate finds himself to be nothing special. instead, he just tries to be himself, giving what he can and not taking much. he doesn’t like to be held down, and the idea of responsibility doesn’t necessarily appeal to him, though he does take it on, especially with his business.  he is still young, and still has a time to find himself, but as he does so, he is going to continue to enjoy life and live day by day. 

biography // 

As the third, and youngest, child of the future king of Spain, Valentino lived a life of luxury, one that he was happy to be in. He might have been a possible heir to the throne, but being the second born male in the family, it gave Val a bit of wiggle room to live a freer life. Though, he was still held to the same learning and etiquette as his older brother. After all, if something happened to Fransisco, the crown automatically went to him, passing over his older sister thanks to succession laws - ones that their father had decided to not change. He didn’t mind this though - the idea of pressure and the possibility of responsibility greater than most. If anything, he didn’t believe that it was possible for him to become king, his brother always doing everything that was required of him. But as he got older, things seemed to shift and his father began to seem to resent the spirit of Valentino. When he asked about this, his mother simply told him that he was worried for her son’s life, the choices he was making. He believed her, but there was still a part of him that didn’t believe it was the full truth. Especially as rumors began to swirl, vicious ones at that. He was not the biological son of the king of Spain. Instead, he was said to be the bastard of his mother and her lover. These rumors were put to rest, but it still sparked too many questions, too much “what if’s” for people to be pleased. That was when the threats began, threats that were hard to ignore. Especially when they began to target not only him, but his mother as well. Fanatics surrounding Sisco’s claim to the throne believed that if anything were to happen to him, it would be Val’s fault and therefore they wanted him gone. Literally. The threats only intensified, and eventually a move was made. 

Plans to remove the Infante were made, and soon they were played out. Valentino was simply doing his own thing, living his life when someone began shooting, and hit him. Luckily for him, it wasn’t anything fatal, though that didn’t mean it still didn’t leave it’s mark upon him. However, though he made it out of there alive, publicly it was said that Valentino didn’t make it. That the wounds were too great and that he had passed after an extensive surgery. To say he was confused was an understatement. But soon his “father” explained. He was not willing to risk the life of his youngest son, no matter if he was blood related or not. That alone left Val to realize that the rumors might be true - that he was not this man’s child. But he didn’t dwell too much, and instead asked what was to happen to him. He was to be reborn as a new persona, and to move out of the country within the next few months, when his recovery was completed. That was how Nathaniel Louis Moreno was born, and his life in the United States began. 

Currently, Nate is living a life in Brooklyn. No one truly knows him, no one stops him to ask him his views on this policy or that. No one gawks at him as he dines with friends, or people to take pictures of him, wishing him a life full of happiness and prosperity. Instead, Nate spends his time doing all of the things that he never truly felt like he could do in Spain: being himself as number one. He went to NYU, got a business degree and eventually opened a small restaurant, Ambrosia. He keeps in contact with his family, though as little as possible, not only for the sake of his own sanity, but for safety reasons. Things changed though when Fransisco showed up, now known as Santiago. He is being forced to live with his brother, orders of the King of Spain, and so he is dealing with that. There is tension between the two, especially considering Nate harbors a bit of resentment towards his older brother. Though it’s unfair and unjustified, considering it wasn’t his fault for his supporters choices to harm Nate. Moving past that though, he is trying to live life how he sees fit, though he’s unsure of where he now fits in with his brother in America. That’s something he may have to figure out, and soon. 

similarities to natalia // need for freedom • neither natalia nor nathaniel want the responsibility of the possible crown. though it is widely impossible, it still looms over them, and therefore the being in america, the new identities, it gave them what they needed.  the royalty aspect • the third in line to the throne, the youngest of three kids. the need to be perfect for their families. 

differences to natalia // more confidence/no eating disorder • nathaniel has more confidence than natalia ever has. that probably has to deal with the lack of being criticized in public and being picked apart, therefore no body dysmorphia or eating disorder. no child • there was never a drunken marriage to dominic king that resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. instead, he lives his life as childless. no stalker • though he deals with his own share of “stalkers” it isn’t the same as tali. instead of being stalked and lusted over, he was threatened for being a possible bastard child.

#es task

[lookwhatbeewrote]

Slashers & Pizza

I’m hungover(ish) so here’s my headcanons for how the slashers take their pizza! Find your pizza twin here~

Michael Myers

Michael likes a plain cheese pizza. He’s pretty straightforward and he’s not that adventurous when it comes to food. He’s used to surviving on boring bowls of lumpy grey porridge or tough slices of fatty meat and watery potatoes at Smith’s Grove so pizza is something of a luxury for him.

Jason Voorhees

Any kind of pizza, any way. His sense of taste is a little wonky these days so spices or chilli oil slathered over it are always good. He’s a beast of a man and he can roll up and entire pizza and chomp it down in a few bites. Then he might move onto yours.

Leatherface

He’s just happy to be here! Drayton never gets pizza delivered and even if he tried it would be pretty tricky, especially in the middle of nowhere in Texas in the 1970s. So whenever one of the brothers brings home pizza from a run-down old diner closer to the city, Leatherface is just happy to try anything. He’s not the biggest fan of spicy foods so he tends to pick off any chillies.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is a physical man and he could eat three pizzas and still have room for a sundae. He prefers meat feast pizzas, usually deep-pan if he can get them. Sometimes he’ll wander out on his own from Ambrose and stop off for food somewhere. It might seem greedy to the waitresses to eat a large pizza then get two more to go, but Bo would feel guilty having pizza without getting something for his brothers.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent is into fusion food. He likes the new Asian-style pizzas with seafood on them. He’s experimental with food and there’s not much he doesn’t like. He eats slowly and thoughtfully. It’s always annoyed Bo. Mostly, Vincent chews slower than others because the deformed side of his face is tight and restricts his jaw’s movement.

Lester Sinclair

Barbecue pizza! Lester loves salty sweet things. Lots of cheese, sticky Texas-style barbecue sauce, bacon... It reminds him of when his mother and father would work together in the summer, his father on the grill and his mother mixing sauces from her gramma’s special secret recipe. Lester always got to lick the bowl, not because Trudy gave it to him but because Vincent wasn’t always that hungry. 

Freddy Krueger

Freddy likes meaty pizzas. He has a particular taste for things that he can impale with his claws and his pizzas often end up slightly mutilated. He doesn’t care too much about the crust because he never really eats it.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms has only had pizza once or twice in his life. It was always good; only the best for Mummy’s special boy. Mushrooms and truffle oil, rich tomato sauce, artisanal cheese... He has a taste for the finer things. And he doesn’t share.

Billy Lenz (with help from @chrisscrossart)

The girls love pizza and movie night. Sometimes they have a girls’ night and sometimes the boyfriends are allowed to stay a few extra hours to cuddle up by the fire and watch some old horror flick. Once or twice when their order has arrived, one pizza is left unclaimed. They open the box to find a pizza piled high with everything from the menu. They assume it’s a mistake and leave it in the kitchen for the boys to take home and they never notice it going missing. The next time they order, they ask why there was an extra pizza on their order. The brusque pizza place owner quickly informs them that one of the girls called back after the order was placed to add it. It must be a joke.

Ghostface

Hawaiian pizza. Because of course.

Harry Warden

Harry is an ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’ kinda guy. He prefers the classics. Pepperoni with plenty cheese that he can lazily chomp on after a long day down the mines. All he needs is a pretty girl to curl up against his side and he’ll feel like the king of the world.

Pinhead

Pinhead doesn’t eat pizza for pleasure. Pizza is the opposite of pain and suffering. Unless the cheese is too hot.

Carrie White

Veggie pizzas! Carrie likes to build her own with different vegetable toppings. She always circles back to mushroom and sweetcorn though. Sadly she only eats a few slices before she stops herself. She doesn’t want to get fat or the other kids will bully her for it.

#michael myers #the shape #halloween (1978) #halloween (2018) #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax (2005) #brahms heelshire #the boy (2016) #brahms: the boy ii (2019) #billy lenz #billy the moaner #black christmas (1974) #ghostface #scream (1996) #harry warden #my bloody valentine (1981) #pinhead #hellraiser (1987) #carrie white #Carrie (1976) #slashers #slasher headcanons #horror

[aemoonie]

Hi 👋🏻 can I have a compatibility ship with stray kids please, my placements;

Rising: Sagittarius

Sun: Leo

Moon: Leo

Mercury: Leo

Venus: Virgo

Mars: Scorpio

Juno: Scorpio

hi anon, thank you for requesting! <3 is your birthday close to changbin's by any chance? you guys have like completely the same chart, but he has a Cancer Mercury and yours is in Leo. i thought it was pretty cool!

anyway, onto your reading ~~

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STRAY KIDS Compatibility Reading

you are most compatible with Chan!

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Sextile – Sun, Moon and Mercury (+ Venus)

First of all, you and Chan both have stelliums. His is in Libra, meaning his Sun, Moon and Mercury all fall into this sign. For you it’s the same planets, but your stellium is in Leo. This means that you guys’ Sun, Moon and Mercury all sextile each other. This is really nice because it makes you two very understanding towards each other. You can understand how the other feels and how they express this. Your senses of self are similar and have a great initial connection. Your communication styles are also similar and you should have no trouble communicating and talking to each other.

You’d be able to talk things through and you both like talking about everything and nothing. Libra and Leo are signs that love beauty and the finer pleasures in life, and they similarly have a desire for a good love story. Libra might be more rational than Leo, but that is one way how you two would compliment each other.

Trines – Mars

So, Mars aspects are important in synastry and here it is good that Chan’s Mars trines all of your Leo placements. Because directly, your Mars signs don’t work very smoothly together (since Chan’s is in Sagittarius and yours is in Scorpio). But since his Mars trines many of your personal planets, he will be able to relate to your on some level and you will be able to understand him. You can identify with the way he asserts himself and may relate to his way of pursuing his goals. He will be able to find a great supporter in you and will feel comfortable talking about his drives and passions.

This Mars aspect will promote a more harmonious connection when it comes to conflicts especially, since your Scorpio Mars likes to dive deeper into issues – like really picking apart what’s wrong in order to take control. But Chan’s Sagittarius Mars will feel like running when things get too much. Even with his Scorpio Venus, he might not be up for your assertive way to get him to talk through things.

Speaking of his Scorpio Venus, since it does conjunct your Mars, Chan will find he can relate to how you take action in life as well. He will feel that his romantic and physical needs and wants are met by you and this aspect promotes a great chemistry between couples. His Scorpio Venus really does a lot for your synastry, since I think it can cause him to be just as obsessive with his interests as you may be with your goals. You both are passionate and can relate to each other in that sense.

Sextile – Venus

Now, lastly I wanted to talk more about your Venus since it’s in Virgo. This means it directly sextiles his Scorpio Venus. I personally also think Virgo and Scorpio can be a good match, since both have an eye for details and like to take their time when coming into a new environment. Scorpio is more likely to be the assertive one between the two, but both can have a long breath when it comes to relationships.

This aspect will help you two to relate to each other’s romantic styles and will make you two like spending time together. You share similar tastes and interests and can understand how the other views relationships. With this combination of Fixed – Mutable signs, it would be important to note that one shouldn’t step over the other. Virgo is likely to adapt more and will do things for the partner in order to please them. As long as Scorpio (or Chan) can recognize that and give the other room to make decisions, it will all be good. The signs usually work smoothly together.

Overall, I think you two would find it fun together. You can entertain each other and like being together. Chan’s romantic Libra placements will like the passion of your Leo placements. Both are idealistic and big on love, so I think you two would share plenty of similarities and small differences that make the mix.

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disclaimer:

of course there are a lot more aspects to consider when doing synastry. but considering that would be a tad too long to do here - i just sort out the aspects that are the most striking to me. also - there is no “perfect” synastry. it would be nearly impossible to do a synastry without finding some disharmonious aspects. this is simply my interpretation of the most prominent aspects between the two charts. also astrology is a purely theoretical concept, you should always take these readings as interpretations. we, of course, don’t know these idols personally and this is all speculation based on their and your natal charts.

*　　　*·.　　　°　°•　✦　　　.　·　☆　.　　.·*　·.　•　　•　°✷  *

#anon ask #compatibility ask #compatibility reading #compatibility request #compatibility ships #synastry request #synastry ask #kpop synastry #synastry reading #kpop astrology ships #kpop astrology reading #kpop ships #kpop astrology readings #kpop astrology #mndchldsung #requested

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 7

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and light smut.

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6

Chapter 7

You should have asked Billy to stop. The logical part of you knew fucking him in some dirty alleyway was wrong. You deserved better than this, even if he didn’t think so, but when his mouth was on yours and ravaging you, and you were filled with so much anger that you wanted to scream – well, it dulled the sane part of you. Your body was desperate for release and you simply gave into your baser instincts.

You ripped his leather jacket off while he did the same with your coat. You bit his bottom lip so hard you tasted blood in your mouth as he braced you uncomfortably against the jagged wall. There was nothing remotely tender or loving about this moment as he pulled your underwear down and hiked up your skirt to your waist. Knee propped against the wall, he balanced you atop his leg. You rubbed yourself on his thigh, groaning at the arousing feel of his rough jeans on your pussy.  The moans you cried out were swallowed by his demanding mouth, his fingers bruising your hips as he held you steady.

You quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling his cock out, pumping him quickly before he forcibly removed your hand from his. His fingers slipped inside your mouth and you licked them with your tongue, your teeth nipping his skin. You were so wet already, grinding down on him, but he took his fingers from your mouth and reached down to stroke your pussy, getting you ready for him. You gasped when he penetrated you slowly, taking his time so you felt every inch of him impale you. Your body shuddered, quivering under the intensity of his gaze as he watched you take him in. Then he began to thrust, jostling your body hard against him. Clinging to him, you bit his shoulder hard each time.

You missed him, the feel of his hands all over you when he was excited, the weight of his body pressing down on you when he was inside you, how loud and wild he was when he was fucking you.

Eyes closed, you lolled your head back against the wall and moaned loudly as he brushed your clit. The combination of his cock and fingers drove you crazy, you were lost in a haze of ecstasy when Billy lifted you higher. You winced with pain as your back scraped against the wall but he didn’t notice, focused on maneuvering your leg around his waist so he can go in deeper.

Pain and pleasure rocked through your body. You could feel yourself getting close, so close, when he suddenly gripped your chin.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His voice was tender, gentle, eyes shining bright. “Look at me, Y/N.”

His beautiful brown eyes were glazed with need, mouth slightly open. He peered up at you, his nose crinkled, with the most amazed expression on his face. Struck by an intense wave of affection, you caressed his beard and leaned forward to lick his bottom lip. A warm, wicked smile marked his lips before he pulled your lip with his teeth, playing with you.  

Hips undulating in unison, his fingers working you, you hit your orgasm within seconds and the world exploded.

As waves of pleasure surged through you, you rode them out, blissful and semi-aware of Billy still thrusting in you as he sucked the corner of your neck. He groaned loudly, his body shaking, when he finally came inside you.

Time stood still. Your body felt boneless, your mind soaring.

You were limp in his arms, probably heavy as hell, but he somehow managed to still hold you up, breath ragged at first but slowly returning to normal. He grasped the back of your head with one hand while cradling your face with the other, angling up to graze your forehead, your eyebrows, dropping gentle kisses on the top of your closed eyelids. You murmured contentedly, enjoying this unexpected moment of tenderness from him.  

Then you heard voices approaching and your eyes flew open. The reality of where you were hit you like a ton of bricks. Immediately you untangled yourself from Billy’s arms, pushing him away, and started righting your clothes.

Your thighs felt wet, slick with his cum. You dug through your pockets for Kleenex, something you could use to clean yourself but there wasn’t any. But Billy was prepared, of course he was. His eyes glued to your face, he retrieved tissue from his jacket pocket and started wiping your thighs. “I can do it!” you snapped, grabbing it from him. When you felt somewhat presentable again, you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

You pulled out your phone to request an Uber but he snapped it from your hand. “What are you doing? Give me my phone back!”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’ll get home myself. I don’t need anything from you!”

“Just shut up and follow me to my car.”

The last thing you wanted was to spend more time with him but he was holding your phone hostage. You followed him grudgingly, careful to keep your distance. The car was parked nearby and upon approaching the vehicle, he held the passenger side door open for you. You knew better than to assume the chivalrous gesture was meant for you specifically. It was a thing he always did, as part of the charming image he cultivated, but whereas he usually wore a smile when he held the door open, right now he simply looked furious. You slid in; he slammed the door shut. As you buckled your seat belt, you grimaced. The same spot on your back that had scraped against the wall was now rubbing against the seat and the friction from the contact was almost painful.  

The car ride home was filled with tension. You felt his eyes on you every so often but you refused to acknowledge him, not when your mind was reeling with hurt and anger. How could you be so stupid? You were supposed to move on from him, instead you fucked him in some alleyway next to a crowded restaurant. Worse yet, there was a chance your boss may have spotted you. You may have potentially risked your career for a guy who wouldn’t even go out with you.  

Over the past year, researching him as you had, you’d come to realize he needed the finer things in life. His car, his penthouse, the clothes he wore, they were all a status symbol for him. He needed them to feel like he’d accomplished something, probably to separate himself from the kid who grew up in foster homes and had nothing. Women, obviously, played into that equation as well. Women like Dinah Madani, beautiful, powerful, accomplished, they looked great in his arms and made him feel good about himself – but you were not in the same category of women as Dinah and he treated you accordingly. She was good enough to take to the gala, to be the date he wined and dined. You were the woman he fucked in secret. Well, not exactly a secret because he fucked you on the street like you were trash. Somehow you didn’t think Dinah Madani would ever get the two-bit whore treatment from Billy.

Rage hit you again, and you scooted as far from him as possible. The movement caused the sore spot on your back to hit the chair again and you winced.

“You okay?” he asked.

You were starting to panic, taking count of everything that had gone wrong in the past hour. The man who tried to kill you was out on bail. Roger found out you had shared embarrassing info with a competitor, which may have potentially jeopardized your job. You just fucked someone without protection, someone who was known for sleeping around.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, everything was weighing down on you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

You hunched over, clutching your temples, staring down at the floormat. You were struggling to breathe, your chest felt constricted.

You felt Billy rub your back, murmuring some nonsense to you, but you ignored him, instead closing your eyes to take a few deep breaths. You inhaled slowly, exhaled slowly. You did it for several minutes. Soon the panic subsided and a familiar numbness took over. Your mind was clear again.

So, yeah, you were in deep shit at the moment, but it was nothing compared to what you’d gone through in the past. You were able to get out of your family’s clutches, that meant you could get through anything. You just had to be calm and formulate a plan.

Okay. Out of everything that had gone wrong, the easiest thing to fix was an unwanted pregnancy. You’d go down to the pharmacy and get Plan B. That way you didn’t have to worry about being knocked up. And then you’d make an appointment next week with the clinic to get checked out. Even though Billy was usually very careful about using a condom – except today – you had no idea how many other women he was sleeping with and you didn’t want to risk catching anything from him.

Two things down, two more things to go.

First thing when you got home, you’d call Roger. You’d reassure him that telling Billy about Adam Preston was a one-time thing and you weren’t in the habit of divulging confidential information to a competitor. You were shook up yesterday, you weren’t in your right mind, and that had resulted in a terrible error in judgement. It was never going to happen again. And Roger valued you, he appreciated all the work you did, he wouldn’t hold something so silly over you. And if he saw you fucking Billy? You cringed at the thought, but there was no point in inviting trouble. If he did catch you red-handed, well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it. “There’s a pharmacy at the end of my street,” you said to Billy, without looking at him. “You can drop me off there.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Adam Preston was the biggest problem you had to overcome. You’d already started looking into his family, trying to find dirt that you could use as leverage against them in case you needed to. But you remembered the look in Adam’s eyes when he’d been ready to kill you. He was unhinged and held you responsible for everything wrong in his life. There was a very good chance he couldn’t be reasoned with or blackmailed, but you were not going to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder in fear. No, never again. You’d spent your entire childhood that way, always wondering what inconsequential thing would set your father off. You were not going to live through that again. So, fuck Adam Preston. If he couldn’t be controlled, then he’d have to be eliminated. Simple as that. And you knew exactly who to turn to for that.

“Give me my phone,” you said to Billy, finally turning to look at him.

Dividing his attention between the road ahead and you, he shot you a confused glance. “I’ve been talking to you for the last ten minutes. Have you heard a single thing I’ve said?”

“No.” You held out your hand. “My phone, Billy.”

“Why do you need to go to a pharmacy?” He cast her a quick glance. “Did I hurt you?”

“I don’t want to get knocked up by you. So I’m going to the pharmacy to get that taken care of. Does that answer your question?”

You noted the way his jaw clenched, but you reminded yourself not to care. You were done with Billy. You were done with feeling like shit. The first time he made you feel worthless, you could console yourself with the fact it hadn’t been your fault. Before you caught him with Dinah, you didn’t know he viewed you. Every time since then, however, was a conscious choice on your part to engage with him which meant you were solely responsible for how pathetic you felt right now. He was selfish, callous, and treated you like shit, and yet you still fucked him. That was something you had to hold yourself accountable to.

Parking his car a few feet away from the pharmacy doors, he turned off his car. His face was dark, his voice terse. “I didn’t force you to fuck me back there, babe. You wanted it as much as I did.”

You met his solemn stare. “You’re right. I did. I fucked you even though you make me feel worthless. There’s only been one other person who’s made me feel that ugly and I cut them out a long time ago - but not you, you I fuck.” A bitter laugh escaped you. “I told you about the Adam thing and what did you do? You went and threw it in my boss’s face so you can brag about Anvil. He could fire me tomorrow and I wouldn’t have any recourse because I’m the one who divulged confidential information. But you feeling smug and superior is obviously more important than me keeping my job.” You looked away from him, staring out the window. “You keep hurting me, and I just let you. For what? Because I have feelings for you? Because some part of me might love you? That’s not a good enough reason.” You shook your head. “I fought like hell to make something of myself, to be safe and happy. I’m not going to let these stupid feelings ruin all that. You will not destroy me.” You felt calm, at peace with your decision. “Give me my phone.”

Your fingers made physical contact when he handed you your phone. His potent stare was affixed on you, angry, volatile, filled with emotion, but you ignored his gaze and snatched the phone away from him.

You opened the door and exited the car, heading to the pharmacy. There was a line at the counter and you took the opportunity to block Billy’s number on your phone.

It was odd. Revealing your weaknesses to Billy, making yourself vulnerable – any of those would have made you hyperventilate before. You weren’t in the habit of giving people ammunition to use against you, but you suspected it was the only way to get rid of Billy permanently. And, strangely, telling him how you felt in the car was freeing. Because, ultimately, it didn’t matter what he thought, the only thing that mattered was you. And you were ready to move on.

Part 8

A/N - As always, thank you for being such a wonderful, generous audience and all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and messages you’ve left me. Trust me when I say, I’m committed to finish this story because of you :)

If you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know.

Tag List

@yourfavoritefruitybitch​ @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine  @gubleryum @galaxyjane  @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless  @tanyaherondale  @nashibirne  @dour-trash  @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson  @agent-jbarnes  @primadonnasdream  @aleksanderwh0r3  @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729  @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie   @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase  @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx   @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival  @sassygirl25  @consulting--heroes  @the-celestial-kitsune  @mackaywhore  @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204  @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny   @beananacake  @beauty-and-the-beast97 @smurfelle  @fire-treasure-iii  @charly-0  @kestrafagnor  @pigwidgeonxo  @damagelove  @allegra-writes  @pensandthings  @jad3djay

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #the punisher #billy russo imagine #a woman scorned

[loubuggins]

The Dragon Prince

Rayllum ~ Rating: T

Fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Home was a hard word to describe at this point in his life. If he were being honest with himself, he never really had a permanent example of what home was for him. His parents had lived in the village that surrounded the royal grounds of Katolis when he was born. The small house they lived in was nothing more than a vague memory to him now. Then he recalled the day he and his Mom moved into the castle not long after the passing of his father. What a big difference that had been.

The stone walls of the castle always made the empty halls and large rooms feel cold, and despite the constant presence of guards, the castle still felt lonely. His mother was kept busy with her new responsibilities as both a queen and an expectant mother to the kingdom's heir. His new father was distant, even in his free time. The only kids he ever had a chance to play with anymore were older than him and were not the best company to have. The oldest of the siblings, a blonde boy with a big ego, was always more interested in the physically demanding games, such as sword sparring or horse races. The boy’s younger sister was easier to spend time with, but at times unnerved the young prince with her obsession with dark magic. It wasn’t until his baby brother was born that he had a more constant companion, but even then, he still never felt quite at home.

Then his life changed forever the night he came face to face with an Elven assassin and her long, silver blades. The place he thought was meant to be his home turned into a place of lies and death. When he had left the castle behind on that fateful night, he thought he would someday return, but in his heart he knew...it was never to be his home.

During his quest to return the dragon prince to his home in Xadia, he encountered many new places he had never known before. Even when he was just a village boy, he had never stepped foot outside of the Katolis capital. Nor had he ever experienced a place as magical as Xadia. He will never forget his first day walking through a dense forest of wonders after barely escaping a fiery demise by the likes of a bitter old dragon.

The constant sounds of humming bugs, chirping birds, and other creatures shifting through the canopy were an odd mixture of relaxing and exciting. He remembers all the colors too, of the trees and the flowers, even the ground. Everything made the cube in his hand glow in every direction. He could feel the magic flowing between every living thing. It felt like the moments just before lightning struck.

He knew right away that Xadia was a place he could spend many of his years in. Just for the pleasure to explore and learn from the mysterious land. But could this land of magic truly be his home?

The thought had not occurred to him until just now, several years since his first steps into this strange new world. The young mage closed his eyes as he allowed himself to soak in his surroundings. He was back in the Moonshadow Forest, only this time he found himself lying in the soft grass of the Adoraburr patch. He had one arm bent up behind his head that he used as a pillow. His face was pointed up toward the sky as he enjoyed the warmth of the summer sun. There was an occasional breeze that carried the sweet smells and sounds of the melodaisies that grew nearby. He took long and deep breaths to take it all in.

He could feel the gentle movements of the adoraburrs rolling around in the tall grass. Their small, round bodies brushing against his pant legs or his torso every now and then. They were a comforting presence in a place that had become so familiar to him. But what pleasured him most was the elf woman that laid at his side. Her head occupied his free arm as she lounged beside him in the meadow. She had been the last to speak, but now she remained silent as she too relaxed in the peaceful place she loved so much.

He peaked open his eyes and glanced over to her. She was so content as she snoozed beside him. In an act of boldness, he found his hand gravitating toward her hair. The only thing softer than the plush little creatures of the field was the silver strand of hair that slid between his fingers. Finer than silk and longer than the blades of grass that outlined their bodies. He let each long strand slip through his fingers and gently massaged the base of her horns. He heard her hum in approval and he smirked despite himself. He was proud of his ability to bring her even the simplest of pleasures.

“What are you planning over there?” He heard her question and he smiled even wider at the unique sound of her voice.

He glanced down to meet her suspicious, but amused gaze. “Just enjoying the company.” He answered back with equal amusement.

“Hum, well don’t enjoy it too much.” She warned with a glint of mischief in her violet eyes. “We have to be back soon. Ethari is making lunch for us and I rather you not start somethin’ you can’t finish.”

She ended her jib with a playful wink, but her suggestive statement brought a deep blush to the mage’s cheeks. Though they had been together for several years now and have moved well into the most intimate step in their relationship, the girl had greatly misinterpreted his intentions.

“I wasn’t trying to start anything, you dirty-minded elf.” He teased as he shifted his weight and now laid on his side, facing her. She let out a laugh as she copied him so that her face met his.

“Oh please, you always start playin’ with me horns and me hair when you want to start somethin’.”

“I don’t always!” He tried to defend himself, but she quickly shot him down with a look that read ‘don’t even try to deny it.’

“Okay maybe.” He relented. “But I swear this time that was not on my mind.”

Her face softened but this time her eyes filled with curiosity. “Then what was on your mind?” She asked him gently. She knew that her silly prince was ever the over-thinker, so whatever was plaguing his thoughts, she hoped she could be the voice of reason.

The smile on his lips faltered at her question and his emerald eyes dropped to the ground between them. This caused her own grin to vanish as she looked upon him with concern.

“Callum?” She pressed, her voice laced with worry.

Realizing his mistake, the boy pulled his gaze back up to meet hers. He managed to flash her a small grin and watched her visibly relax at the gesture. “I was just thinking...about home.” He finally admitted, but tried to make his words sound nonchalant.

The elf frowned anyway. “Are ya homesick?” She asked, not even bothering to hide the surprise in her voice. “We were just in Katolis for ya birthday and Queen Zubeia is expectin’ us back by the half-moon.”

Callum shook his head. “No no, I’m not missing Katolis. I mean, I love visiting my brother and our friends, but I don’t miss the castle. Quite the opposite actually.”

Now his girlfriend’s brows knitted in confusion, but she waited for him to elaborate.

“I’m not missing home, Rayla. I think, for the first time, I actually feel at home.”

Her pointed ears perked up at this. “But I thought Katolis was ya home?”

The prince looked at her thoughtfully. “Katolis is where I’m from, but it never felt like where I belonged.”

Slowly, he inched his hand toward one of her own and intertwined their nine fingers together. He moved her hand slightly closer to him and rubbed small circles over her knuckles with his thumb.

“I was thinking about Xadia and about everything it comes with. The magic, the creatures, the history…” he paused to give her hand a loving squeeze, “...and you.”

They both blushed this time, but neither looked away as Callum continued. “And I realized that this, this place and this moment, right here with you. This is where I belong. This,” he lifted her hand and brought it to his chest, “is my home.” He finished his confession by placing a tender kiss onto the back of her hand.

Rayla’s blush darkened and her eyes began to shimmer with budding tears, but she did her best to blink them away. She yanked her hand out of his grip and shook her head.

“Sappy Prince.” She half-heartedly chastised as she turned around to hide her face from him. She curled herself into a ball with her back facing toward him. Callum chuckled at her sudden shyness, but did not allow her off the hook that easily. Instead he scooted closer and wrapped his bare arm around her waist, pulling her toward him so that his chest pressed into her back and their legs tangled together.

When she did not try to move away from him, he leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek.

“You’re my home, Rayla.” He whispered into her ear. His breath warming her neck and sending a shiver down her spine. He leaned back down into the grass, but continued to hold her in his embrace. For a long pause they each stayed quiet, before Callum finally caught the sound of her hushed voice.

“And you’re my home too.”

#the dragon prince #rayllum #tdp #rayla #callum #tdp rayla #tdp callum #callum tdp #rayla tdp #tdp rayllum #dragon prince #this is my first dp fic #so let me know what y’all think #fanfics #my fics #one-shot #fluff

[every1studio]

“art of seduction” angel / devil version [ateez]

genre: fluff + some suggestive moments (warning: borderline 18+; mentions mental health)

ficstyle: bulletpoints + oneshots

prompt: “who in Ateez are angels and who are devils and how would they make you fall for them”

note: based on my take on their personality 

HONGJOONG

(type: 100% an angel;)

he’ll admire you from a far at first

making sure you are aware of his existence 

offers you to get coffee while showcasing a blushy smile

seemed like he was a confident guy and that appealed to you 

you thought you were seeing things when you saw him glowing to the point that there was a halo around him 

would notice if you were the slightest bit of uncomfortable 

would shoot you a heart-warming smile that made you feel at home 

does gentlemanly things for you that would make your heart flutter

opens the door for you 

tucks your annoying babyhairs from your face

pulls you into his chest to keep you from bumping into other people

made you feel like you were in an actual k-drama

he’s noticed you for so long

he wanted to make sure he could do everything in his power to get you to notice him

actually asked God to give him a day pass to get to have one day with you 

he would hope that from watching all of the k-dramas up in heaven helped him to get your attention

who wouldn’t fall in love with him and his angelic smile?

God is the real MVP and the real life cupid; would let him see you on more than just one occasion

SEONGHWA

(type: fallen angel; yandere devil)

he didn’t tell anyone that he was going to leave the kingdom

the reason for leaving was he wanted to pursue a life with you 

because he didn’t want anyone knowing about you he kept to himself until he knew for sure he wanted to leave the life he knew for you 

and after making that decision, he had to make sure he did everything in his power to seduce you and make you his

to him, you seemed unattainable and he wanted you

you met him for the first time at the clubs; although he had girls eye-googling him, he would only look at you

he decided to walk over to you to the beat of the loud music 

after buying you a drink

he’d look up at you through his bangs as he slithered his arm around your waist

“what’s a beautiful being like you doing here all by yourself?”

you didn’t know what was going on in your head at the time but you had agreed to go to his place

maybe it was the light fluttering touches of his lips on your neck

or maybe it was the ghosting sensations of his hands on your body 

or maybe it was the piercing, ice glares of his eyes that pulled you in his spell

everything after that night was a blur and it made you thirsty for this man

but yet everything seemed right 

he wanted you and he’s got you in his hand

now that he has attained the unattainable, he was never going to let you go

YUNHO

(type: guardian angel) 

he knew he could only watch over you

he couldn’t physically touch or be there for you; but that never stopped him from being in your life 

would always contemplate if he should break the rules to be apart of your life 

but he’s made it clear that this was his duty and he needs to abide by the rules 

he would always appear as a figment of your “imagination” or in your dreams (not an incubus though)

he’d asked you how your day was

what you liked and disliked

what made you happy and what made you worry

you soon fell in love with a mysterious guy that would show up in your dreams

your dreams were so vivid; it was like you were having a long-distance relationship, even though you don’t know who he was 

God would see how much his angel was hurting; he sat Yunho down to talk

Yunho swore to him that he will take good care of you and like that, Yunho became reality 

he showed up as a transfer student at the beginning of spring

his minty blue hair looked like cotton candy against the light pink flower petals

even you knew this was your first time meeting this guy, you had a gut feeling that you met him before

you brought it up to him after being friends for a while now and he replies, “maybe we’ve known each other all of our lives”

something in your heart knew that was true and that was when you realized how whipped you were for this guy you didn’t know was your guardian angel 

YEOSANG

(type: sadodere childhood friend who’s a devil)

you were secretly in love with your childhood friend 

but Yeosang knew that 

besides the fact that he enjoys the pain of other people, he enjoyed seeing you in pain the most; mentally and physically  

he became known as the heartthrob of the school; hoping that he could get to see you hurting because of him

seeing you like that excited him and he wanted to see more of it 

but you never showed how much you were hurting and it was his motivation to break you 

in his book, that was what love was

until one day, you were both invited to a party and you were getting attention from guys that weren’t him

but he pushed you into the bathroom as he angrily tugged on your tight, party attire

“do you like teasing me? do you like other guys undressing you with their eyes?” 

he held your face up to look into his eyes

you whimpered as you responded to him with watery-eyes, “it’s because you were always with other girls and not me..”

this was what he wanted

he could release from the hurt face that you gave him

but he would play dumb so that he can get more out of you, “why did you tell me sooner?”

SAN

(type: Jekyll and Hyde)

San had a hard time finding solitude

he didn’t know what he was and who he had become

all he knew was the he couldn’t live without you

he was an angel and devil residing in a human’s body

ever since you came into his life, he finally realized that you were his purpose of living

he was a mental patient and you were a psychiatrist

he found your voice soothing and would prolong his answers to your questions so that you would stay with him longer

you found him particularly different every time you visited him

sometimes he would answer your questions in a gentle manner and sit with his legs crossed

other times, when he would open his mouth, all that came out with sexual things he would do to you and would have his legs on top of the table

you wrote down that he might have multiple personalities; it made you want to find out more about him

the more you talked to him; the finer the line became of trying to separate his two different sides

and the more attractive he got

his little glares to his dimply smiles

how he would graze his fingers over yours 

how would lick his lips every time you looked up at him after asking him a question from your clipboard

these were his charms that made you feel a certain way

it made you shift uncomfortably in your chair

you knew what your body wanted but you knew it was wrong 

on your last visit, which was a Saturday night where there little-to-none security, he got up from his seat after your last question and broke the camera that was in his room

there was one thing that he could do that would assure his freedom away from the gray-tainted room 

he leaned into your face as he grabbed both sides of the armrest on your chair as he could feel you get goosebumps from his touch

“can you do me a little favor?”

“a-anything for you, San..”

MINGI

(type: looks like a devil; an angel)

you thought he was one of those boys

the casanovas 

the bad boys

how could you not?

especially from the way he always had his shirts unbuttoned down to hid mid-chest

or how he would sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair 

or how he would raise his brows while massaging his sharp jawline

as strongly as you didn’t want to like him, you did

he didn’t know that he made you feel that way towards him 

because the whole time he’s known you, he tried to figure out ways to try to get you to notice him

he didn’t know that his daily actions caused your heart to flutter

Mingi finally made the decision to talk to you; you guys were always classmates but never really talked

he sees you struggling on a math problem during break time; trying to finish your homework before class started

he leans over your shoulder and gently takes your pencil; with his gentle and low voice, he helped you with the problem

he blushes when he’s done, realizing how close he is to you 

“i-if you want.. would you like to study for the exam on Monday this weekend..”

you could tell how much of a blushing mess he is when you shyly agree 

WOOYOUNG 

(type: an incubus)

would go through the files; picking who he would visit through the world of dreams

as much as he was horny, he was picky

when he came across your file, a smile was spread over his face

“this is the one..”

he wanted to observe how you were in person before entering your dreams

he entered the human world and entered a club that you were going to; it was suppose to be a girl’s night

you were feisty; he tried to flirt with you at a club, bought you a drink 

but you immediately shot him down despite of the lusting gaze you gave him 

you shot him down because you saw how many girls were on him and he just flirted back

you told him that you weren’t interested and that he should back off 

you didn’t want to be another one of those girls because you knew your worth

but that night, you saw that guy at the clubs in your dreams 

he really did tease you to the point of orgasm denial

“you really won’t do anything?” you got angry and tears would form near your eyes

“you did tell me to back off, didn’t you?” 

he would edge you on more before you spoke up again, “I didn’t mean it..”

but you’d wake up before you got any satisfaction 

maybe it was just a coincidence but he showed up as often in your dreams as he did in real life

did he purposely choose you to be pleasured or to fall in love?

JONGHO

(type: tsundere angel)

he really didn’t know how to show his feelings 

he acts like a little kid when it comes to liking someone; bullying their love interest

he was an angel living in the human world 

he was also your classmate since kindergarten 

always throwing erasers at you 

tugging on your hair 

shoving you out of his way

that was his way of showing you that he liked you

when someone would as him if he liked you, he would act as if that was the most disgusting thing he’s ever heard

but when he finds out that someone is interested in you, he would be more protective of you

it wasn’t until high school that he started you protect you from flying soccer balls instead of kicking it at you

sitting in front of you so that the sun wouldn’t hit your face instead of kicking your desk to wake you up from your nap

carry papers that teachers asked you to deliver instead of hitting it out of your hands 

which made you think, maybe Jongho wasn’t a bad guy after all 

especially after he clearly made it clear to another guy that he liked you all this time

~end

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