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#I HAVE SO MANY FUCKING QUESTIONS AND NO ONE TO ASK THEM TO
a-b-riddle · 1 day
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Okay, but having to explain “the bear vs the man trend” to the 141.
CW: Sexism, harm against women.
Johnny’s immediate reaction is the man. “The man’d be easier to kill. Dinnae ken if I could fight a bear.” He answers. “But what kind of bear is it?”
You have to explain that killing either is not an option. The prompt is would you feel safer in the woods with a man or a bear.
Gaz asks if the man is armed because that could play into a factor for him. You say both have the ability to inflict harm to you and kill you. Now you just straight up ask which one?
Simon would unfortunately understand why you chose the bear, but waits until you have to spell it out for the others.
"As a woman, the worst thing a bear could do to me was kill me." You explain. You tell them about some of the other things women felt when choosing a bear.
The bear would look at me and see a human.
The bear would kill me for survival. The man would kill me for pleasure.
I trust my dead body with a bear more than I do a man.
They say nothing as you read the reasonings out loud. They understand your reasoning and the subject changes.
It's not until it's close to ten in the evening that you see Captain who was the coincidentally missing turning the hangout with the others earlier.
"Captain," you greet. "Is everything okay?" You can't help but notice the crease between his brows. The worried look in his eyes that gives him away.
“Just, a quick question if you don't mind." He said, waiting for confirmation to continue. You nod, curious as to why he had come all the way to your barracks.
"I spoke to the lads and well-" He clears his throat. "Hypothetically, if we were in the woods,” Price began, feeling foolish for asking you, but needing to know. “You’d pick us? Knowing it was us and who wer are. Right?” His question was more than just would you choose them over the bear.
Did you trust them?
In truth, you trusted them with your life. They had your back time and time again and you just never got that vibe from them. They were never "boys being boys" in the same way you had grown up knowing men to be.
"Boys being boys" around here was when one of the shadows had made a sexist remark so Johnny sneaking into their bathrooms and giving one of their three toilets an upper decker.
Ghost had played bodyguard after that, ensuring none of them dared to fuck with you.
Kyle had went into psychological warfare by finding pictures of the women they had back home and printing out the photos and hanging them up all over the base.
And Price had some choice words with Graves ensuring that the next one of his men to step out of line would get a fucking bullet to the head.
There weren't many men in this world who ever made you feel safe not only as a fellow soldier, but as a woman.
"Yeah," you reply. "I'd choose you."
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seresinhangmanjake · 2 days
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Fremen Girl
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Fremen!reader
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Summary: The potential wife of any future Baron must prove herself by surviving in the arena before the current Baron will permit the marriage. In this case, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen wants a wife, and he might have just found a woman capable of meeting that challenge.
Notes/Warnings: this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :) Also, Dune inaccuracies and typos.
Words: 900
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
The toe of a boot jams into your calf. Your knees are the first to crack on the tiled flooring of Arrakeen Palace’s throne room. You land with a grunt, followed by four more grunts as the knees of your Fremen brothers are forced down beside you.
That’s all that remains of the troop sent to attack one of the Harkonnen patrol groups. Out of twenty-one, only five. 
The five of you make a neat line in front of the empty throne with you in the middle. From left to right, one after the other reduced to half height, your heads down, arms bound behind your backs, and blood dripping from various Harkonnen-inflicted wounds. 
Your only wound is a swollen, busted lip, which you found curious until you realized their goal was to capture the remaining few of you, not kill. That swift fist to the face had caught you off guard while you were trying to aid a friend who inevitably met their death, and in that moment, you knew you were going to be made an example of; a warning to other Fremen: Be smart. Don’t end up like this girl. 
So, here you are, in a Harkonnen-occupied palace awaiting your grim fate, forced to bow to an old baron you thought was too lazy to leave his home planet of Giedi Prime, let alone bother with a handful of Fremen who made a minuscule dent in his massive army. 
But then you hear footsteps echoing as they make their way through the vast, hollow room. 
“Are these the ones?” is asked in a low, gruff voice. It’s akin to the voices of the men who brought you here, but it contains a unique richness and lacks the worn, overused quality that comes from many decades of aging. Definitely not the Baron.
“Yes, my Lord na-Baron,” one of the brutes answers from behind you, conveniently answering your unasked question as well.
“And which of them did the most damage?” 
Thick fingers dig into your hair, nails scraping your scalp as your head is yanked back. You swallow your whine from the pain and meet a set of deep blue eyes. You know those eyes—well, you know stories of those eyes. As a small child, you overheard whispers amongst the Fremen elders of the Harkonnen boy with the soulless eyes who killed his mother and maimed his family’s slaves. The promising younger nephew of the Baron: Feyd-Rautha. Barely older than yourself and yet word of his deadly glare was already jumping from planet to planet. 
But those eyes change as they look at you. There’s a quick shift from wicked to amused, a glint flitting across his irises as he scans your face. His lips tick upward—almost imperceptibly—but you catch it before it disappears. 
“Release her,” the future baron instructs. The tension from your abused strands eases as he steps forward and crouches in front of you, much too close for your liking. You want to flinch away, but Fremen do not cower to intimidation. 
“So,” he starts, peering into you, “you're the one causing me trouble, hmm?”
“She took down twelve of our men.”
His brow raises and his head tilts, but Feyd-Rautha does not break your stare. “Twelve? Is that right?”
“She bites as well, the fucking bitch,” the soldier grumbles to his leader. When you roll your eyes, said leader's lips quirk again. “Too much spirit in her if you ask me.”
All sense of amusement drains from the na-Baron’s features. Cold blue eyes flick to the soldier, and with the attention momentarily off of you, you take a breath. 
“I did not ask you,” he says in an eerily calm tone. 
You can practically hear the gulp that struggles to make its way down the other Harkonnen’s throat. “Apologies, my Lord.”
Feyd-Rautha returns his gaze to you. He examines you for a few long beats before lifting his hand and swiping his thumb through the blood beginning to cake on your split lip. 
“Don’t touch her!” comes from the left in your native tongue.
You wince. He’s one of the younger ones, just shy of your age. Well-trained enough to be a dangerous force, faster than the older Fremen at your sides, but so full of hatred for Harkonnens that his enthusiasm has him making silly mistakes, clearly not excluding shouting in a threatening tone when it would be best to remain silent. 
The butt of a Harkonnen weapon slams into the back of his head and he falls forward, landing face-first on the floor. 
The na-Baron doesn’t pay the disruption a lick of attention. His index finger meets his thumb and they swirl together in small circles until they’re thoroughly coated in your blood. Then, one at a time, he sticks them into his mouth and sucks that little bit of you off of each pale digit. 
“Lover?” he asks you, nudging his head toward your knocked-out friend. You shake your head.
Leisurely taking in your features, his eyes trace the curl of your lashes, the slope of your nose, then the V of your cupid’s bow before he says, “A woman more deadly than the men who flank her is quite rare...and impressive.” Your brows pinch at the compliment and he smirks. “I think I might have use for you, Fremen girl.”
---
A/N(just a repeat of the notes up top in case you missed it): this is just the first section of this fic, which I can't decide if I want as one long fic (5k words) or multiple short parts (5 or so). If you like it, feel free to provide an opinion on that. Comments help me out and make me happy, so they're always welcome :)
@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t
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romanoffsbish · 2 days
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I’m Fine 🙂 / Save Me 🙃
Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (Familial / Sisters)
Warnings: Angst w/Bittersweet Ending | Reader Dies | Black Widow / Red Room Canon | Addiction | “Cry for Help”
All she had left was the memory of you. | WC: 1,512
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"Do you ever feel like you're all alone in this world?"
Natasha looked up from her laptop quick. "What?"
"Like, no matter how hard you try, no one will ever love or regard you in the same way you do them?"
——
Natasha tried to approach you gently, "Y/N." Yet she wasn't quick enough as you jumped back. "Shut up."
There was a fire in your eyes she hardly recognized, and she took a step back. Looking in your eyes hurt, because you were not the same little girl who used to pick flowers from the garden just for her hair and part of her took blame for that. "Don't try and pretend like you do." If you were a wine you'd be the most bitter. "I don't know why you even keep me around Natasha."
The redhead scoffed bitterly, "because I love you!" It stung to feel the burden in her words—you're hurting yourself just to spite her, but she hurt you first and with the way your mind was racing this made sense.
"Or is it because you feel guilty?" You countered, and hit it on the head as she whispered, "Y/N, please..."
Crushing her the same way she did you the day she left you behind, in a place built to destroy a dreamer like you, in the hands of a man set out to punish you for the mistakes of the woman you loved the most. Ouch.
"Do you think the world would miss me if I vanished?"
"Of cou—." You mindlessly cut her off, words tinged with vitriol, "Of course not. You're the one they'd hold the candlelight vigils for, you'll be on a mural and I'd be the one the stray cats would miss, because just like them I know what it's like to truly have no place."
"Have you been smoking pot?" It reeked the longer she stood closer to you. Then you all but confirmed it as you grew defensive. "Is that all you can ask Natasha?"
Natasha clicked her tongue. "Answer the question."
"Yes," you monotoned, "what does that change?"
"Everything." You grew rather frustrated, "but how?"
“You’re not making any sense,” she tried to reason but you laughed incredulously, “this is the first time in my entire life that I am making complete sense, Natalia.”
"I don't like it when you're like this, sestra."
"I'm always like this." Natasha sighed, "yeah..."
"Yeah?" Natasha nodded shamefully and you couldn't stop the sob from breaking. She hated you.
"Then I won't be anything to you, anymore."
Natasha shot up in a cold sweat, her wife beater tank top sticking to her skin, the words of your last fight still ringing in her head; a cry for help and she was useless.
"Fuck," she hiccuped, her knees pulled to her chest as she sobbed alongside the sky just outside the window. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes and tried to force the pity she felt for herself away, the grief...
There were so many things she could have said; done.
I don't understand, but I want to; talk to me...
Had she ran after you, would it be different now?
Could've grabbed you by the arm. Don't go. Stay.
I love you more than you could ever know.
Instead she scoffed, 'at least I can finish my paperwork now,' and let you storm out the door without noticing the keys to her brand new jet black Porsche were gone.
Yelena still won't return her calls. Melina and Alexei are beside themselves in a grief harsher than her own. Though she internally wagers that her loss was the greatest, because you were her little widow first...
~-~-~———————-~-~———————-~-~-~
"Natty?" the blue haired girl looked at you with a wide grin, the innocence of the nickname you gave her was endearing and in the same breath, twisted. It was clear to her you didn't remember much of the before. You were four years her junior, so similar to Yelena, this life was honestly all you'd known. "Da, malen'kiy pauk?"
Natasha laughed just as soon as you giggled. It brought her joy to know, that for a while, you could be free of the harsh shackles that awaited you all back home.
"A little girl at school today told me about how in her family, when a person goes away, that they can become something else when they visit." Natasha nearly lost the joy on her face as you curiously approached death. In her mind the hope you held onto was futile, that when you shoot someone between the eyes, they are as good as gone, but she could never destroy you like that.
Instead, she gave life to your wonder, "What would you want to be then, a kitty?" You shook your head and blurted your answer easily, "malen'kiy pauk." The gaps in your teeth only made your smile more endearing, and the redhead opened her arms to you. You launched yourself into your sister's arms and gripped her tight.
"Then I could visit you," you mumbled against her shirt and the natural redhead tensed. The idea of you no longer existing felt unpleasant—her walls crumbled the moment you and Yelena entered her life but this was the first time she'd felt anything excruciating.
"Moya malen'kiy pauk," she chuckled softly so as to not cry instead, she placed a kiss to your cheek then hoped your childlike attention span would change the tune.
Then a familiar jingle sounded and you were scrambling into the house, shrieking for your mom.
Natasha shook her head and walked to the old man who knowingly parked out front of your house. He handed the redhead three ice creams, and a disk.
—————
You stood next to Natasha in the line for lunch, which was just a tasteless tray variety of essential nutrients. It was rule of thumb not to talk in line, but you were never one to follow the rules, and neither was Natasha.
"Are you scared of death?" Natasha frowned. "What?"
"I think a healthy fear for the end is fair, but I'm not losing sleep over the concept. Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm honestly not," you shrugged, stance indifferent but Natasha unfortunately believed you as you went on to say, "just wondering if I'm alone."
"Never with us," Yelena chimed in. "Death is an inevitability, just a matter of the when and how."
It wasn't hard to see to the fear in the blonde's eyes as she kept up her indifferent demeanor. Deep down, Natasha knew she was still that little girl from Ohio, who up until recently called fireflies, forest stars.
"I can't believe it," your tone clipped, the warmth you used to greet her with was gone. "I'll be back," she lied without realizing, but you could see it clearly. "Izhets."
(Liar)
"Y/N, I am going to end it once and for all," she hoped you could see the bigger picture, a promised freedom.
"Tozhe tupoy," you chuckled humorlessly. "There is no end, just more opportunities to build up defense."
(Dumb too)
Natasha fell for the American's words of ignorance.
"I love you," she said with certainty before she was one with the shadows, the last piece of your hope gone as it'd been years since you last caught sight of Lena.
~-~-~———————-~-~———————-~-~-~
A loud cry outside the purposely cracked window pulled her from her bittersweet thoughts of you...
Natasha stood beneath the tarp of your balcony, eyes downcast on a gorgeous white cat, paws soiled by the mud she trudged through with her three kittens. The redhead set a plate of food down for her then settled down beside her, towel in hand as she dried her babies.
The light of the moon cast over the kittens, reflecting off their varied fur patterns. A black one meowed, calling to her first among the litter, he hissed softly at the unfamiliar lift but settled fast as she began to dry his fur, pulling off grime and putting him to sleep.
The same occurred with the next boy cat, who was a gorgeous shade of gray, with faint swirls of orange.
Lastly, the smallest of the three, a gorgeous blend of white, brown and orange. She was the most vocal.
A grateful purr came from the mama cat when the redhead moved on to her paws, her eyes fluttered open at the unexpected contact, and when Natasha lifted her own gaze she gasped. With the light now on her face the color of her eyes was clear, a tear streamed down Nat's face without warning. The color and deep feeling of understanding behind them were just so, you.
"Oh my," a subdued laugh left her as she caught sight of something else, she scooped the feline into her lap, and placed a finger on her wet, pink nose in waiting. The blur of black transferred right on over and the woman smiled truly for the first time in eight months. "Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, moy malen'kiy pauk."
(Welcome home, my little spider)
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hellsslibrary · 2 days
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Hellooooo!! i just saw your post asking for requests and stuff, so uh
here i aaaaam :3
i was wondering if you can do sub! lucifer or barbatos :p
you can do like literally whatever but i am STARVED for sub composed men that eventually are not-so-composed (i wanna see grown men cry)
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"Shh... Don't think that water will save us from others."
#a.n. : I'M SO FERAL ABOUT THIS ONE SHOWER CARD OMG.... So shower sex with Luci where you drive him crazy lol.
!!Warnings: Top!Dom!Male!Reader, Sub!Bottom!Lucifer, fingering, finger sucking, shower sex obviously, praise, teasing, a little crying, overstimulation (this is not mentioned but implied), no penetration, Reader is MC, this all take place after the events of the card with skateboards, open final.
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The sound of groans and slight squelching sounds was heard in the bathroom. But everything is easily hidden from others outside this room by the sounds of water and a spell cast on the walls.
Your fingers have been moving inside Lucifer for God knows how long, and you made no attempt to stop. Not that Lucifer minded; the stamina of demons is much higher than that of humans, but damn, this was getting too good.
How many times did he cum? He doesn’t remember anymore, and you didn’t count either. Just the fact that you finally managed to convince him to take a break after he worked so wonderfully on creating the best skateboard is already a miracle. But Lucifer himself understood that he deserved it... And how could he disagree when you were so sensitive to making sure he took breaks while working earlier?
"M-MC...Are you ever going to stop?" He asks, still being able to somehow spit out a complete sentence without almost stumbling over the letters.
"Mmm... No, I guess. You're not even at your limit yet, why should I stop?" A rhetorical question comes from your lips, which makes Lucifer’s legs tremble with excitement.
He is clearly not at the limit of his strength, far from it. But you will spend a very long time here if you want to bring him to this line, which is what you actually wanted. You just wanted him to break, in the nicest sense of the word.
Your fingers slid so perfectly inside his already soaking wet walls, each time pressing on a tiny spot that made him moan with pleasure. His dick was constantly rubbing against the shower wall, smearing his cum from several orgasms all over the wall. Lucifer’s palms lay lazily on the wall, and he rested his forehead on them to hide his red little face, which of course you didn’t want, but you didn’t really mind.
"Are you already brought to a complete state of bliss, if you understand what I'm hinting at, Luci?" The only answer to your question was a shake of the head.
But little did you know that it was a lie.
Lucifer felt like he was ready to dissolve, turn into a puddle from the movement of your fingers in him. He felt his entire being being torn apart in the most pleasant sense of the word. He felt like his whole brain was ceasing to function, because he had not been aware of it for a long time.
He's not even sure he can control his own body. A rare moment of vulnerability for him.
Lucifer realizes that his mask will soon crack. It will break like a crack in glass that will break it sooner or later. His self-control will burst.
Or rather, it has already done it.
“Are you crying, precious? Very good, relax, no one will hurt you here...” You whisper when you see tears running down the part of his downward-leaning face that you can see.
He groans when he realizes your fingers are playing with his tongue, making him whine. Such a humiliating sound for him, the Avatar of Pride himself. He shouldn't make sounds like that, but honestly? Fuck it all.
His head leans back, resting on your shoulder. His back collides with your torso. His hips try to match the movement and rhythm of your fingers, moving with them. And his mouth sucks your fingers, as if his life depended on it... Although he will obviously remember this for a long time later.
“Come on, let go,” You whisper in his ear, kissing his cheek, feeling the salty taste of his tears and looking down, slightly surprised that he came at that very second, but absolutely satisfied.
Lucifer hums around your fingers in mock displeasure when you don't slow down your movements even for a moment. He understands that he will regret this.
But it feels so fucking good.
“MC... You... will break me...” He whispers, muffled by your fingers, barely able to form a simple sentence as he feels your fingers deliberately aiming specifically for his prostate.
“Hush, baby,” You coo, he wants to drown in your voice, he realizes that he can’t even hear the sound of water. "Just relax, I won't eat you, you're so fucking good."
He nods. The movement is convulsive, clearly not smooth, and so unusual for Lucifer. You just smirk at this, kissing his neck, making him whimper, wiping away his tears.
After all... Maybe he won't regret this experience as much as he thought.
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
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Oh I was absolutely going with them Jason Finds Out During TT route. I think it would be especially funny if he's heard horror stories from Rouges and his own Henchmen that Robin The Third is some kind of demon that Batman summoned on accident. There are some rumors about how the demon feeds off of grief or anger or vengeance because it's illusions of being g a human are stronger when the Bat is there so *clearly* it is taking its power *from* the Bat. Others say that Nightwing summoned it so that it would keep Bruce on a leash without the first Robin having to come back. Some say it was some person in Gothem who did it or that it was the combined form of the many curses on the city.
All Jason knows is that when his replacement turned around, it's head luled to the side just an inch or two, like a puppet on strings that had to much slack on that one string. Jason manages to shoot one of its arms but instead of a spray of blood, it is broken shards of porcelain and sand. His hits feel like he's punching a solid wall but some do leave visible cracks in Tim. This Thing in a Robin Costume could not ever be human. He knows because when he left, he took a handful of sand in a vile to see if he could figure out what it is. Jason still has that vile to this day, the only proof he has that Tim isn't a human. Sometimes he will set it on a flat surface and watch the sand in it make it slowly roll towards whatever direction Tim is in.
As for how he heals, that's to the magic that animates him, all Tim needs to do is hold his pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle and after a few moments the piece he's holding will weld itself back into place. Also his sand will slowly come back to him, attracted like a magnet and he can tell where all his sand in instinctually. He let's Jason keep the vial of it as it's basically an unhacklable Jason Tracker. The sand isn't fast at moving towards him, roughly about the pace of a snail or sloth. It's certainly moving but just getting from downtown to the Batcave could take his sand a week. Also the pull isn't super strong, gaining about as much force as a particularly stubborn ant.
Ras took half a pound of Tim's sand instead of his spleen and Tim would very much like his sand back.
As for Cass knowing, she 100% does. Tim has shown her his true gorm and when she asked why he didn't show the others, Tim replied, "they wouldn't understand. They would worry over things that aren't problems and try to fix things I already fixed and end up breaking those things."
Eventually the Bats must find out though, and when Dick asks if that means they need to do special things to keep Tim from dying to Magic Users, Tim laughs and laughs like Dick has told the funniest joke in the world. When he calms down, he asks a question of his own, "Dick. How could I possibly die if I have never been alive in the first place? I am simply an object enchanted to move and speak. I am no more alive that the AI Babs uses to scan the internet for pictures of us. I am no more alive than a character in a video game. At most, at *most* I can be compared to some of Ivy's plants that she uses to attack us. I can not be killed for I have never been alive. Broken, yes, but that I can fix. I simply have to be put back together like a jigsaw puzzle."
Oof. Poor Dick is going to have to figure out how to feel about that statement. Tim not being alive at all and comparing himself to a video game or AI might fuck with Dick's sense of self, sentience, etc. I would love to see how they all logic, cope, and understand identity after this.
I do love the idea that the sand tries to make its way back to Tim, but he knows where it is at all times. Jason has an estimated location of Tim (N, S, E, W), but Tim has like coordinates.
I wonder if Cass would try dancing with Tim. Since his movements are different, perhaps she would enjoy learning to dance in a way that's similar to how he moves? It could be eerie and fun for her.
I'm curious how Ra's would feel about Tim and his sand in this. Why did he keep the sand? Does it look distinct from other sand? Was it just cause it was part of Tim and Ra's thought he might be able to use it? Also, does he attempt that shit he did with his Nyssa since Tim probably can't reproduce?
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sysmedsaresexist · 2 days
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I spoke with Colin Ross again.
The original post, for those who missed it.
This is going to be really disjointed and rough. I've been put in a really weird position and I want to just... talk about it. This is okay to reblog, I'm sure there's pro/endos that have been waiting for this. Unfortunately, it's going to be attached to a vent.
Sadly, talking to him brought up a lot of bad feelings. I'm still so sad to see so many people turn on me. I'm disappointed that there was so much pushback. I'm disgusted by people's hypocrisy.
People wanted to know why I wasn't posting my side of the emails to Colin Ross, they tried to say he didn't believe those things anymore.
So I emailed him again, recapping our previous conversations, and asking him if he still believed in non traumagenic plurality.
And he responded that he does.
I thought I could post it, and that would be the end of it. Proving we had spoken before, confirming the topics discussed. But in my email to him, I shared what I've been doing since I last spoke with him, what prompted me to reach out to him again. The same thing that stopped me from posting my side of the emails originally. I wasn't entirely honest with him, either. I don't think I would have gotten a response if I had talked about tumblr.
And I'm simultaneously so excited and so scared.
This is a man that, in a very vague sense, formed a mentor/professional relationship with me. Our interaction overall was brief, but it was exciting to discuss his work with him, ask him questions that had been bothering me-- I told him about myself, my educational and work background. I used my real email and name. My real school. He's Canadian, we talked about it. I shared real details of my life, and while it wasn't necessarily in confidence, I don't think he would appreciate knowing that I've shared his personal thoughts and emails on tumblr, of all places. I'm not lying or hiding anything in my side of the conversation.
I'm scared.
I'm terrified to post anything that could be linked to me. Even posting this, I'm like, "can people like... reverse edit my picture and get my email?" I genuinely don't know.
I worry about posting the full screenshots with his email, knowing people won't believe me if I don't, but not wanting to have these ridiculously immature people in his inbox. I have encouraged people since day one to find his email themselves and reach out. I figure that the only people who would put in that work are the people who genuinely want to learn.
But then I realized that there are people that could ruin the relationship I made with him.
People that could make it so that I can never contact him in this way again.
People could use this to find me, if they get Colin Ross talking. (The rational part of my brain says he's smart enough not to give someone else my name, but goddamn, some of you people are actually dangerous)
There are people that want to do that to me. People that hate that I even brought a professional into this conversation. And I get it. I sat on the original conversation for almost three years, remember?
It's really scary to admit you're wrong, that you've been close-minded and hardheaded. It's scary to confront your bias and actions.
But having him respond to me... I feel so lucky? Not that Colin Ross is a saint, but how often do you get to meet someone like him? How often do you have a chance to take advantage of a professional contact that seems willing and happy to have these kinds of conversations with you? Three years later and he remembered me. He took the time to answer me, again.
I don't want to fuck that up.
So I thought about reaching out to certain people, showing them the entire set of emails without any blockout and having them vouch for the authenticity.
Then I realized that I wouldn't trust any of you anti endogenic systems with any of my information after how you've all behaved.
And I realized that none of you are going to change your minds, no matter what I show you, and I'd rather to maintain my professional relationships than put any more effort into any of you.
And I know if I wait too long to post this, people will call it fake, so I either need to go ahead and make this post or just kind of let it disappear into obscurity.
It's so important, though.
Isn't it?
I can't tell anymore.
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pumpkinbxtch · 2 days
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hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.
i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together
AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️
i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?
— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader
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warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha
Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.
— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.
— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.
— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.
— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.
— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.
You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.
— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.
— Hmmm. And?
— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.
Now Apollo understood but played dumb.
— I don’t know.
You tapped his thigh with your foot.
— Of course you do.
And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.
— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.
— Well, I suppose.
His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.
— Have you fallen in love recently?
That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.
— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.
— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.
You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.
In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.
You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.
Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.
You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.
The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.
Leo flirting with Calypso.
Leo flirting.
The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.
You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.
He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.
— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.
— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.
You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.
— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.
— Maybe Nico is scared.
— Does he think Will isn’t?
You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.
— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.
— I don’t know, but I can think of something.
Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.
Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.
—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.
— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?
Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.
— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.
Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.
The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.
— No. From me to you…
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hawkinsbnbg · 2 days
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Steve was a good friend, so he decided to show Eddie—a virgin—the rope.
nsfw, edging, masturbation, voyeurism (not sure about this one but rather be safe than sorry)
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It started out like this:
They were both smoking in Eddie's bed and talking about everything and nothing at all. Just a picture of two friends chilling out together.
But maybe something had gone sidetracked, because Steve had turned to look at him and asked calmly.
"Are you a virgin?"
There was no warning, nothing for Eddie to brace himself for that kind of question. So with a loose tongue and heavy eyelids, Eddie had nodded.
"Yeah, sex is overrated anyway, man."
And that was it. They moved on to different topics after Steve just hummed noncommittally in response.
A few days later, they were back in Eddie's bed again but before he could light his joint, he was asked to show Steve his cock.
As confused as Eddie was, he didn't ask any questions but complied because he was weak to doe-eyes and a pretty face.
And unfortunately, Steve was the combination of both.
So, he just put his joint away for later use, unbuckled his pants, and pulled his cock out, already half-hard just by the idea of Steve watching him.
"Fuck," Steve breathed out softly, eyes tracing the girth and length of Eddie without shame.
Eddie squirmed slightly, not knowing why Steve reacted like that.
"Uhm, is there a problem?" Eddie asked uncertainly.
"No," Steve finally met his gaze, dilated pupils almost eating up the hazel. "Just... I know you’re big, but not this big."
Eddie blushed. "Well, is that a thing?"
"Is that a thing?" Steve mimicked his perplexed tone and snorted. "Jesus. Yeah, Munson. You're fucking hung and girls really dig it."
Eddie wanted to ask, "Does it also include you?"
But he bit his tongue before he could blurt it out. Instead, he said, "So, what are we gonna do now?"
Steve smiled at him, pretty and a little mean, "We're gonna teach you how to not come prematurely so you won't be laughed at for it."
Eddie was quite sure he only complained to Steve about that problem one time. Like months ago when he had been high off his ass and unable to see straight.
He had assumed that Steve must've forgotten all about it by now. But apparently, the younger boy had a better memory than he thought.
"How?" Eddie frowned in bafflement, half anticipating and half afraid of what was to come.
"You're gonna jack off," Steve answered casually, as if the sky was blue and Eddie wasn’t having his cock out in the air. "And when you're close, I'll tell you to stop. We'll keep going until your endurance improves."
"Wait, isn't that–" Eddie spluttered.
He wasn't an idiot. He had read too many skin mag to not know what it was.
"Yeah," Steve nodded calmly. "I know, but edging does help cases like this. I've done my research, Munson."
There were too many things to unpack from that one sentence and Eddie certainly was too sober for it.
So he filed it away to the back of his mind to visit it later when he wasn't both turned on and embarrassed by Steve's insane proposal.
"Do you want me to help you or not?" Steve cocked his eyebrow when he remained silent too long.
And wasn't that a million-dollar question?
Because Steve was sitting on his bed, asking to watch him jerk off, and expecting his brain to not fucking combust.
"Okay," Eddie exhaled shakily and looked up to meet Steve's waiting gaze. "When do you want to do it?"
"Whenever convenient for you," Steve shrugged like he hadn't been eyeing Eddie's half-boner until it filled out and started leaking steadily between them.
Before Eddie could second guess himself, he shimmied out of his pants and boxers. Then, under Steve’s watchful gaze, he wrapped his hand around his cock and started pumping.
He closed his eyes, head knocking back and mouth dropping open in silent moans.
It didn't take long, much to his humiliation, when Eddie felt the telltale tingles prance down on his spine. He was gonna–
"Stop."
Eddie's hand fucking stopped and he had to yank it away from his cock or he was gonna spill just from a small contact.
He shook his head at Steve. "I can't–"
"It's alright," Steve grabbed his hand and guided it back to his throbbing cock. "I know you can do it, Eddie."
Jesus Fucking H. Christ.
The look Steve gave him was so different from before, so soft and so tender.
At that moment, Eddie knew he'd do anything Steve asked him to.
And he was also pushed closer to the edge because of it.
"I'm sorry–"
Steve acted too quickly. One second he was holding Eddie's wrist, one second later he was grabbing Eddie's balls.
"Wha–" Eddie groaned out loud when Steve squeezed them, causing his cock to wilt immediately.
"The fuck are you doing, Harrington?!" Eddie moaned and glared at Steve.
"I'm helping you," Steve answered matter-of-factly, but his eyes gleamed with mischief. "In case you forgot, Munson, we're training you to hold out longer than one minute. It'd be for naught if you come right now."
"You're evil," Eddie mumbled, but secretly hoped that Steve wouldn't stop holding his balls. He could already see himself jerking off to this very moment later.
"I'm just being a good friend," Steve snorted and retreated his hand. "Go on. Pick up from where you left off."
And Eddie obeyed.
He stroked his cock slower this time, hand moving with more purpose, teasing the sensitive slit, squeezing the flushed tip, spreading the slick along the rigid shaft.
He grunted, sighed, and moaned, letting out small noises that were just a bit more breathy.
He bucked his hips and started thrusting, wanting to show Steve that he had the potential, that he could fuck Steve the same way he was pistoning into the loose hole formed by his hand.
His performance was cut short, however, when he was close again, too keyed up to last more than a minute.
It was hard to ignore those hooded eyes when they felt like a physical touch on him.
As predicted, Eddie wasn't allowed to come.
Every time, Steve would tell him to stop again and again and again until he was desperate for relief. Every time Eddie failed to halt his movements in time, the younger boy would aid him by gripping his balls painfully.
It was a bittersweet torture.
Eventually, Eddie couldn't hold back anymore and shot despite Steve's order.
"Fuck, shit, m'sorry, m'sorry," Eddie babbled as he experienced the most intense orgasm in his life.
He convulsed and fisted his cock, seeing stars beneath his eyelids as he tried to drive out the high.
The overwhelming pleasure rendered him speechless, making his head spin and his body tremble. He felt like his brain had liquified and streamed out from his ears.
By the time Eddie regained his senses, he was handed tissues and a water bottle.
Once done with wiping himself down, he took a long gulp from his bottle before grinning at Steve, "That was really something, man."
"You tell me," Steve huffed out a laugh that echoed by Eddie.
They sat in companionable silence until Eddie cleared his throat slightly.
"So I finally lasted longer than one minute."
"Yeah," Steve patted his arm lightly. "Good job for that."
"Thanks," Eddie ducked his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.
"It's nothing," Steve smiled at him kindly. "You really outdid yourself, Eds."
Eddie's stomach felt warm and fuzzy at that. "So what's next now I passed your test?"
Moving closer, Steve hooked a finger under his chin to make him look into those hazel eyes.
"Next time, we're gonna do it with my hand."
Eddie took in a sharp inhale. "You're not joking, right?"
"No, not with you," Steve chuckled lowly.
The sound rattled Eddie down to his bones.
"And what's about next next time?" Eddie couldn't help himself. God dammit.
If all of this was just a dream, he was gonna rip God a new one. Because fucking Jesus.
"Eager, aren't we?" Steve arched his brow. "But I think you already figured it out by yourself."
Eddie groaned and reached down to squeeze the base of his cock. It seemed to be quite eager with what Steve suggested.
"Can we just do the second test right now?" Eddie licked his lips, knowing full well that he wouldn't last long, but he’d be damned if he didn't give it a shot.
Steve just laughed and patted his cheek lightly. "Nah, today's enough. We'll continue tomorrow."
"Promise?" Eddie asked hopefully.
"Yeah," Steve pecked the corner of his lips. "Promise."
And Eddie knew he was gonna set up a one-hundred-step plan to woo Steve Harrington however impossible it was.
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multiversefanfics · 20 hours
Text
Girl Of My Dreams (Part 2)
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Warning: maybe some cussing? angst, then fluff again Summary: Summary: You work at a small diner down the street from the compound which Bucky visits often, so often that you remembered his order, but things got a little shaken up when Sharon puts her unwanted opinions in it.
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You haven’t talked to Bucky in months, every time he comes into the diner you serve him and that’s it. He tries to talk to you, but you tell him you’re busy even if he’s the only one in the diner. It’s not his fault that Sharon said what she said, he can’t control what comes out of other peoples’ mouths, but the whole “75 girlfriends” comment really got to you, he was a very attractive man, so does he actually go out and pick up girls all the time? Is he a player? A lot is going on and you have enough to worry about. Bucky on the other hand, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He’s never felt like this about anyone before, he doesn’t want to lose you, but he knows giving you space may be the right thing to do he doesn’t listen to himself, he keeps trying although you two didn’t know each other for that long Bucky knew that you were the one for him. When he first showed you his arm you were intrigued, you asked many questions about it, and he had no problem answering them.
Bucky has never experienced that type of reaction when he told people about his arm, you didn’t make him feel like a robot or that he didn’t belong you made him happy and Steve and Sam saw that, but of course, Sharon had to go and fuck that up. Bucky stays in his room and only leaves to get food and go to the gym and every time Sharon comes around, he leaves even if he’s in the middle of a conversation and everyone understands they even warn him when she’s about to arrive, so he’s not caught off guard, which Bucky rarely is. There was a soft knock at Bucky’s door “Hey, Buck we were gonna go get some food do you want to come?” No answer, Sam and Steve shared a look and continued on their way, Bucky knew where they were going and after the last time, he was at the diner it was probably best he didn’t go with them.
A short time has passed, and Steve and Sam are at the diner and of course, they are in your section, you walk over and exchange greetings, you’re at work you have to pretend you’re happy. “Y/N please talk to Bucky; he doesn’t leave his room and he feels bad about what Sharon said.” You sighed slightly and rolled your eyes a bit “Why doesn’t he contact his 74 other girlfriends” Sam chuckled and looked you dead in your face “There are no 74 other girlfriends, Bucky isn’t the type to do that, hell I’m surprised at how good he was with you. Bucky is a loner, he’s over 100 years old with no practice when it comes to women, trust us.” Sam’s eyes went from super serious to pleading “Why should I trust you guys, you’re his best friends you could be covering for him.” You crossed your arms over your chest and stared "You don't have to but think about it. Would we really be okay with that type of behavior?" You shrugged your shoulders "I don't know what men think, but I'll think about it. I have to get back to work can you guys stay a bit and give me a ride?" They both nodded and you went to continue your shift, you had plans to talk to Bucky about what was said you just didn't know what you were going to say, and you didn't know what he was going to say.
Finally, your shift was over, and you met up with the guys. "Okay, I'm ready to talk to him." The three of you walked over to Sam's car, Steve opened the front passenger door for you and shut it after you were comfortably in the car, he got in the back and Sam drove to the compound. A short drive later you're outside the compound you take a deep breath and follow them inside, Steve showed you to Bucky's door, and you take another deep breath and knock on the door. "Go away, Steve!" You could hear his voice cracked from the other side of the door which made your heart break in half "It's not, Steve." You heard rapid movement and the door opened to reveal a very tired and sad Bucky. Your heart is now shattered. You did this to him, you hurt him. Well, Sharon did but you felt somewhat to blame. "Hi, Bucky." He blinked a few times and just stared "Y/N..." You rubbed your arm "Can we talk?" He nodded and moved to the side so you can walk in.
His room was dark and a mess. You didn't know Bucky that well, but you knew he wasn't a messy person at all. You sat on the edge of his bed and watched him walk over and sit next to you "Listen Bucky, I am very sorry for ignoring you, that comment really messed me up I like you a lot and I know I shouldn't have let her get in my head but that was the first time we hung out and to hear that I didn't know who to believe, I've been hurt before." You fiddled with your fingers while you tried to figure out what to say next, he saw your hands and gently took them into his. "I have never felt like this in my life, you bring out the best in me even if we only hung out once, the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one for me, and you confirmed it when I showed you my arm most people look at me and treat me differently, you don't and I appreciate that so much I cannot lose you."
You looked over at Bucky and smiled softly "You're not going to lose me, I'm here." He brought your hands up and kissed both of them "By the way I don't have 74 other girlfriends, I'm really hoping to have 1 that is if you want to." You smiled again and nodded "Of course I would love to." He pulled you into a hug sighing with relief "You already make me so happy" You pulled back softly pecking his nose "Now, why don't we clean up this room and go downstairs and I make us some food" He smiled and nodded his head. You walked over to the windows opening the curtains to finally let some light in the room. After cleaning Bucky's room for about an hour, you both go downstairs and into the kitchen. “Alright, what do you want to eat?” Bucky sat at the island and watched you look around the kitchen “What can you make?” You leaned against the counter and started naming things you could make “Ooh chicken alfredo sounds good” You smiled and started getting all the ingredients out, you looked back at Bucky who was just admiring you “Wanna help?” He nodded excitedly and stood up to come help “Okay, so what do you need me to do?” You looked around for the easiest task you reached over and handed him a pot "Fill this up with some water, maybe about halfway maybe a little more." Bucky can't mess up filling a pot with water, can he? "Is this good enough?" You nodded and instructed him to put it on the stove.
While you were cutting up the chicken you figured the water would be boiling but nope, he never turned the stove on, you giggled to yourself and turned the stove on when he wasn't paying attention. The two of you laughed and cooked. Finally, you were done and ready to eat, you both sat down, and Bucky looked down at his plate in amazement "This looks amazing" The two of you sat there in silence, enjoying the wonderful meal that you two prepared together, when in walks Sharon. You look up in disgust as she walks into the kitchen "Hey, one of Bucky's girlfriends is here, do the others know not to come by?" You could feel your blood boiling again and just as you were about to speak, Bucky spoke up instead "What the fuck is your problem?" Sharon looked at Bucky shocked by what he said but she stood firm "I just want her to know how much of a player you are." You rolled your eyes and continued eating, it seemed like Bucky had this handled, so you sat back and watched. "Y/N is my one and only girlfriend, and it's about time you respect her and me and everyone else in this compound." At this point, Bucky is now standing and staring straight into Sharon's eyes.
Sharon takes a step closer to the island. "Do you really want to go there with me Bucky?" Bucky walked around the island and stood firmly in front of Sharon, now it was time for you to step in you walked up behind Bucky and gently grabbed his right arm "It's not worth it, baby." You felt Bucky's arm relax and he slowly turned his head to look at you "You're right, Doll. Let's go continue our dinner in the living room." Bucky picks up your plates and walks into the living room, he sets them down on the coffee table and stands there with his hands on his hips. "Actually, you know what I have one more thing to say then I'm done." He turned around to face Sharon and took a deep breath "Ever since Steve stopped fucking you, you've been the biggest bitch imaginable, but one thing you are absolutely not going to do is, disrespect Y/N. You don't even know her and honestly, I would love to keep it that way so pack your shit and get out." Both you and Sharon stood there shocked. You never expected Bucky to say anything like that, that was the moment you realized you found the one for you.
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Main Masterlist - Bucky Barnes Masterlist - Part 1
A/N: I really hope you guys like it; I tried my best to make it good for you guys. feedback is definitely appreciated along with constructed criticism, please the more the better. Tell me how I can make it better for you guys to read. :)
Tags: @megamindsecretlair @blackhawkfanatic @casey1-2007 @scorpiosaintt @buckysdoll85 @grdh90 @thedonswife13 @scott-loki-barnes @b3llair3
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ryuichirou · 2 days
Text
Replies
Some replies! Mostly about weird dicks and ehh having kids I guess…
characharing asked:
''Is Ruggie's grandma packing?'' OF COURSE SHE IS, ANON, GILF RIGHTS
Yesss!! POWERFUL GRANDMAS OF TWST!!
Anonymous asked:
Somtimes i feel like when I leave this blog for a few days, idia gains like, 270 new kinks
Exactly, now imagine how Idia feels. Every new day should feel like a holiday, but he sure is struggling lol
Anonymous asked:
Yesss, Riddle gets to savor all the exotic dicks whether he likes it or not as the Queen intended. Wonder which one he'll like the most? I feel like Deuce might also join in but probably by accident
I am a romantic at heart, so I would assume that Riddle’s favourite one would be the long, supple and slippery eel one. It just sounds right. 😌 It’s also probably the most unpredictable because it moves, and Riddle hates unpredictability, so we get a perfect match.
Deuce would definitely join in by accident, and he would probably feel kind of guilty for enjoying the exotic dick so much… maybe because of how much adrenalin and panic he felt when he experienced knotting for the first time, but his body reacts very strongly to Jack now. And experiencing one of the tweels would feel so weird that it would actually fry his brain for a couple of hours…
Che’nya should visit NRC more often. For no reason in particular, he just should.
Anonymous asked:
On the topic of parents, I was asking myself who would be the most likely to raise a kid together in canon in the future, and I think that if Kalim has kids he will definitely rope in Jamil, no matter the kind of relationship they have. His life would be even more at risk as the head of the Asim, so I can imagine he would try to get someone he can trust to become the legal guardian of his child/children in case something happens to him, and we all know that there is no one he trusts as much as Jamil. "And when I'll die you'll take care of them" "When!?". I don't know, it's just kind of funny to think about how even without Kalim, Jamil would still be stuck with the kalimlings (who probably don't even get along with da-, I mean, uncle Jamil)
Oh there is absolutely no chance for Jamil to get away from nurturing another Kalim, even if the first Kalim hires 10 nannies for the kid. For the sake of protection too.
“When I’ll die” lol so ready to kick the bucket and leave Jamil with kalimlings…what a word 😭 Jamil’s entire life is Kalim. Even if Kalim is gone, Kalim is still there. Maybe Kalim will do what his father did and leave 30+ kalimlings behind just so uncle Jamil doesn’t get lonely.
Anonymous asked:
out of the twst cast, who do you think would selfishly ~baby trap~ their partner? like tbh i don’t see floyd as the type, if anything a baby would make him fuck off lol
Yeah, a baby would absolutely make Floyd fuck off lol Which is ironic, because while I don’t see Riddle as someone who would necessarily do it, he gets pretty unexpectedly unhinged sometimes… I don’t see it, but I don’t not see it if that makes sense. It wouldn’t be a premeditated decision; it’s more like a crime of passion. If he manages to make a baby with magic somehow… the chances are super low, but considering how unstable Floyd can make him, never zero lol
To answer your question properly, I can’t think of many options to be honest, but two characters who came to mind first would be Malleus and Azul. My reasoning for Malleus: lay an egg => demand attention.
And Azul would do anything to tie a person to himself if he needs to; a baby would bring a lot of unnecessary expenses, but if nothing else works, putting a bunch of eggs inside his lover’s body is always an option. Wow, both of them are egg related…
We are talking about the boys here, but I feel like even if Azul was a lady, he wouldn’t want to get pregnant herself. The world would hear the most menacing “I’ve already paid the surrogate, Idia-san” ever.
Ortho could do it in a yandere scenario, I think. Sebek and Kalim are also suuuuper not likely, but somehow more likely than the rest of the boys.
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klttn · 8 hours
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hii i hope i don’t make too many rq’s (i asked for secretary reader pt. 2 and the recent adam one) but yes alastor x reader!! maybe smthn with painplay and primal stuff if ur comfy writing that?
-🩰
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⁺˳✧༚ ˚ 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒 。⋆୨୧˚
— 𝜗𝜚 alastor x f!reader
ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 summary : alastor discovers just how raw and animalistic you really like it. nsfw. smut. pain play. primal kink. pred/prey. alastor fucks you in his demon form. deer!reader. size difference.
“you look adorable like this, darling.” alastors voice sounded throughout your hotel room, ears timid and facing down, backed up against a wall, legs weak and trembling, lips parted as you panted heavily, eyes doe like and wide. “so scared and pathetic, so cute.”
“a-al, are you gonna h-hurt me?” your voice barely above a whisper, stuttering from all the nerves. and arousal.
alastor sighed, dragging his claws up your sides and watching intently as your body tried to press into it, a glint of amusement in his eyes. so frightened but her cunt was begging for it. “now now, i believe the question should be, do you want me to hurt you, little fawn?”
your cheeks flushed instinctively, teeth now having a vice grip on your bottom lip, alastor could tell by the look in your eyes that that is exactly what you wanted. the claws running up your sides found theirselves to your hips, pinning them and forcing them further into the wall, a soft yelp leaving your lips as he rose his eyebrows, his actions forcing an answer out of you. “please.”
alastor cooed, he got off on seeing you like this, he was glad only he got to see you like this. the only man that could ever hurt you, fuck you, touch you. the thought of anyone else doing that made him down right murderous.
his claws idly dug harder into the flesh of your hips at the thought of anothers hands on you, drawing a small whimper from you, your hips rolling forward. “so eager,” he mused. “you really do like it when i hurt you, don’t you? when i scare you and have you feeling like my prey?” your head nodded frantically, fear and excitement evident in your eyes. “you are my prey.”
your eyes widened at his words, you needed him so badly, needed him everywhere. loving how much he towered over you, leaving you cowering beneath him. that gave alastor an idea.
alastor hummed to himself, moving one hand and placing his index finger under your chin, hooking and bringing your face closer to his. inches away. “how would my darling girl feel getting taken by her big scary boyfriend in his demon form?” his pupils turning into dials and head tilting as he spoke to reiterate his words. “imagine how pathetic you would turn.”
you felt your pussy flutter and heart throb, mind racing with thoughts of him abusing your body like that. so raw and unfiltered.
alastors voice pulled you from your fantasy. “i’m going to need you to use your words, my doe, or my touch is gone.”
“yes,” you breathed, “please, alastor, i want you, i need you, just take me, please.” an arrogant glint took over his eyes.
“good girl,” alastor grinned.
alastors form grew wide, green accents in the form of crosses spawning on his face, long black whips protruding from his back, his tongue now darting out his mouth, thick, long and dripping with spit, eager to be on you. he looked hungry. like you were a full course meal and he hadn’t eaten in in weeks.
a small squeak left your lips as you felt the blackness wrap around you tightly, lifting you and placing you roughly on the large bed in the centre of the room. him wasting no time in spreading you out for him, loving the way you writhed at his touch. “it’s so adorable when you fight back.” alastor mocked in his static like voice.
the more you struggled, the harsher the grip he had on you became, “i don’t know why you persist on going against this,. just look at you little doe, so weak and dainty, i’ll break you if im not too careful,” he keened, “but you don’t want that do you? you want me to wreck this pretty little body of yours, ruin it so no other will have you like i do.”
a soft mewl escaped you, skin flushing pink, pussy dripping, eagerly awaiting more. “can’t help it!”
“no?” alastor chuckled. “such a dirty girl. can’t fight the pathetic urge to submit your cute cunt to me, need to be hurt and towered over, just to get off.” alastors hands moved to free your tits from their confines. “only i get to treat you like this.” he breathed in deeply. “you are my prey, little doe.”
your eyes rolled back. in the midst of alastors possessive ramble, his fingers traced their way to your core, ripping all the fabric in their wake, leaving you on show for him. the harshness of his form above you making you feel so small. you felt two clawed digits press their way inside your aching pussy. a moan of relief and pleasure coursing through your body.
it was primal. everything alastor was feeling. he just wanted to hurt you, be mean to you and treasure you like the adorable fawn you are.
just as fast as his fingers were in, they came out, slick coating them, glistening and dripping down his hand. alastoes tongue flicked out to lap up the mess you made, bliss covering his face as he did so. it was sinful. the sight of him causing you to whine and buck your hips in protest. the pleasure taken away just as easily as it was given.
“patience, darling girl.” alastors voice stern, not liking your disobedience, leaving a bruising hand print on your thigh as a warning. that only got you off more. “promise me you won’t scream too loud when i split you open.”
your head tilted as his hands found your hips again, this time taking over your entire torso with their size. the dynamic comparable to a cat with a mouse. your cunt fluttered at him, begging for him to just use you. so he did.
he used the whips of his powers to lift and spread your legs above your head and with a rough slam of his hips, he was in and bottomed out with one singular thrust, pelvis flush against the backs of your thighs, balls resting on your ass.
the adorable yelp that left your lips was like music to his ears, seeing your eyes squeeze tightly and your thighs instinctively close over your chest, knees bent and tip toes resting on alastors chest. “h-hurts,” you stutter, unable to do much else.
“i know, darling, i know.” alastor feigned sympathy, “but you can take it can’t you?” you shook your head, mumbling about it being too much. “this is what you need, this is what you want, it’s not too much unless i say it’s too much.”
alastor pulled out until just the tip was in, holding for merely a second before slamming back down again, tightness of your pussy, squeezing such lewd groans out of him. “i think you can do better than that, need to stretch you out a little more don’t we?” your mind was elsewhere unable to focus with being so full. “don’t we?” he asked again, quick thrust pulling a response from you.
“yes!” you whimpered.
alastor tutted and thrust his hips once more, “not good enough, darling.” another bruising grip being left to your hips.
the action had you keening, “more, please, more, stretch me out n use me please, just please i can’t take it anymore!”
bingo. that’s exactly what alastor wanted to hear. he loved it when you begged. almost as much as he loved it when you squealed such pretty noises when he fucked you. just like you were about to be doing.
his hips started thrusting but this time there was no stopping, loud smacking noises resonating with the sounds of your slick dripping down your thighs.
alastor became animalistic now he was fucking you. all cares for anything but feeling your cunt had gone. he didn’t care about anything but feasting on his prey and that’s what he was going to do. “fuck,” alastor cursed. the hold he had on you was deadly, you couldn’t move or squirm and the long whips wrapped around you dug into your skin like rope, soft flesh pudging over them, red marks already starting to be seen in their wake as they shifted.
“hurts so good,” you cried, beginning to pant, chest heaving and and back arching as best it could in your restraints. “more more more.”
one of alastors hands came up to cover your mouth, more like your entire face with how big he was compared to you. the other now roughly massaging the flesh of your tits. “my prey doesn’t talk back to me.” he muttered, “no matter how pretty the words coming out of her are.” of course he loved the cute whines of desperation you made but right now all he wanted was to feel you, feel himself abusing your insides.
it wasn’t long before you felt your climax building, rushing through you and taking over. it was hard not to when you were getting everything you wanted. the size difference and animalistic nature of it all driving you, spurring you closer and closer. you tried to warn alastor but to no avail. you couldn’t move or verbally warn him, the only sign he got was your cum rushing over his cock and spilling out of you.
“ah, ah, ah. did i say you could cum?” you shook your head underneath his hands. “silly deer.” his pace never stopping. “guess i’m going to have to keep this up for twice as long to teach you a lesson.” it was almost a chuckle with how it came out. “i’m not hearing any complaints, but then again, you’re that helpless right now that you can’t do anything but listen to me can you little doe?.” he was so condescending with his words. you loved it.
alastors grip over your mouth shifted, releasing the cute noises from your lips that drove him insane. he moved them to stroke your hair, then running over to your soft fluffy ears, a scared flinch making you shiver underneath him. that scared look he loved so much. “so adorable, if it was up to me, this is how you’d be permanently.”
a choked sob fell from your lips in the midst of your whines. you looked so pretty right now. his doe, filled to the brim, tied up in his whips, crying for him, mewling and moaning for him, fully submitting to every word he said. oh how he loved this. how he loved you.
he came down and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, the softest thing he’d done tonight, before whispering into your ear, “remember, you asked for this.”
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A/N : this is the most unhinged thing i have ever written… i hope you like it!!
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roseworth · 6 hours
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You are both an Arrowfamily and Jason Todd fan account so I thought you would be the best person to ask this but: What do you think the Arrowfamily members opinion on Jason are?
ooooh i love this question.. i think a lot of people jump straight to "they would hate him" because of his fight with mia but!!! i don't think thats entirely true!!!!! some of them would hate him but not all of them </3 i feel like the people that claim they would all hate him have a fundamental misunderstanding of the arrows and what they stand for, not to mention deliberately misconstruing what the the jason & mia fight actually was and pretending it was a lot worse than what actually happened. but thats just my opinion
ollie absolutely would hate him though lmao. he would never get over the fact that jason kidnapped, fought, & tried to blow up his daughter. no forgiveness ever. if jason HADNT fought mia though i think ollie would like him or at the very least tolerate him. ollie very clearly has no issue with murdering bad guys (as seen in ga88) and would be completely on board with anyone who goes out of his way to fuck with batman constantly <3 also in my humble opinion ollie shouldve been a cosmic mistake in countdown due to him coming back to life because parallax put him back together, which would have been hilarious and would absolutely have ended in them getting along (until jason goes through like his fifth breakdown in that book, because he would absolutely lash out at ollie after watching that one version of bruce die. but thats a whole separate tangent)
dinah also would hate him for trying to kill mia, but probably not as intensely as ollie. but even without that issue i dont think dinah would like him, mostly because hes the worst and i dont think dinah would have the patience to put up with him. she wouldnt have a huge problem with the killing (she wouldnt NOT have a problem with it but i really dont think it would be an unforgivable issue for her), but she would just think hes kind of an asshole about it and she wouldnt like him at all. i also think theres a panel somewhere where jason says that dinah told him she hates him personally?? idk ive only seen screenshots of it but i think its funny so im incorporating it into my belief system
with roy... i feel like there are so many people that see rhato and swing to the opposite side of the pendulum and say that roy would hate jason but i dont think thats true at all. im a rhato hater because that is Not Roy so we're disregarding that, but i still think they would get along tbh! given that roy is deeply in love with a serial killer i think that the people who say he would hate jason are misunderstanding who roy is. i think when theyre both in character they actually have personalities that would mesh well together and they COULD get along really well. i dont see roy having a Big Problem with jason killing people (he would try to stop him from doing it but murder wouldnt be a dealbreaker for roy) so i think its fair to say they would actually get along!!! but i bitch and complain every time they show up in the same panel because now the damage has been done from rhato so i dont want them to interact in canon. only in the secret world in my head. in regards to jason fighting mia, i dont know how to say it but,,, i dont think roy would have a huge issue with it. he certainly wouldnt be happy about it but also he wasnt there so i feel like all he would know about it was that jason kidnapped mia one time but mia was fine. honestly i think that he would be more interested in brothers in blood bc dick would def mention that jason murdered people in a nightwing costume then turned into a tentacle monster and tried to eat someone but dick forgave him anyway. and once he hears that suddenly the mia thing seems inconsequential in comparison
with connor... i cant lie im a little biased because connor is a member of my dream outlaws team but i really think they would at least kind of get along! connor is not the type of person to hold a grudge at all so once mia forgives him (which ill get into in a sec) connor wouldnt have a problem with him. he WOULD have a problem with jason killing people but he's close with eddie so clearly he doesnt have that much of an issue with working with people who have killed before as long as they dont kill in front of him. and i think that jason has a healthy respect for anyone who can beat him in a fight and because of that he would not kill anyone when hes around connor. i also think that connor and jason would never fight because connor would never throw the first punch and jason would never start a fight that he knows he cant win (but thats once again a whole separate tangent). basically i dont think they'd be besties or anything, i dont think theres a world where they'd ever even consider themselves friends. but i do think they'd get along well enough to not hate each other
okay now finally mia. kind of a controversial take but i really think she'd forgive him for kidnapping her! she absolutely would not forgive him IMMEDIATELY because it fucked her up so she would be pissed about it for a while, but also? i think she completely understood what he was trying to do. he wasnt really hurting her specifically (like yeah he hurt her but he made it a fair fight and he wasnt beating down on her or anything. she also hit him so it evens out) and he was actually trying to talk TO her and relate to her. and it was working!!! he didnt force her to do anything except fight (in a fight where he untied her and gave her her weapons), so once she got some distance from the event i think she'd forgive him. it would take a while for her to actually forgive him enough for them to actually get along, but i genuinely think they would. theyre extremely similar people and i think they would really be good friends if given the chance, but it would take a looooong time for mia to be comfortable enough to be around him enough to consider him a friend since the fight definitely fucked her up. but it is possible for them to eventually be close, and i think they could be really good friends
honorable mentions: - i dont know emiko well enough to know for sure (i havent read new52 or rebirth green arrow so i havent read much with her </3) but from what i know i think they would get along - lian would have no opinion of him whatsoever. at most she sees him as her uncle's brother. i truly dont think she'd care enough about him to form a positive or negative opinion about him - i dont like sienna so i dont want to acknowledge her but for the sake of the post. she doesnt like jason because dinah doesnt like jason and she says "i hate everyone that black canary hates <3" - cissie is not a member of the arrowfamily but she wouldnt like him because she absolutely would have an issue with any murderous vigilante given that she almost killed someone one time and had a huge breakdown, so anyone that kills people for the Greater Good and continues to do so would not sit right with her - i have absolutely no basis for this but shado would hate him for no reason. no specific beef with him about his morals or his actions, she just wouldnt like his vibes. sorry to talk about rose (no im not) but she would see rose hanging out with jason and go "im so happy for you and your ugly fucking boyfriend im serious" - eddie and jason would get along like a housefire. there is not a doubt in my mind that they would bond instantly (ok not instantly because they both hate everyone and would probably start with trying fight each other. THEN they would bond) and it would be catastrophic for everyone involved 🫶
ok i think thats everyone. or at least everyone that matters. never forget that all my opinions are 100% correct at all times
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Hey, I'm a big fan of your writing, I was wondering what your favorite books are/which authors inspire you?
I love getting this question LET'S GOOOOOO
PATRICK ROTHFUSS
I'm hugely inspired by his writing (name of the wind, the wise man's fear) in terms of it being super engaging worldbuilding, but I imagine you're specifically asking about writing STYLE, and he also holds up for that. to quote brandon sanderson's praise on the back of wise man's fear:
"Masterful prose, a sense of cohesion to the storytelling, a wonderful sense of pacing... There is a beauty to Pat's writing that defies description."
my goal with my writing is to keep it tight, keep it moving, but also to get at some deep crunchy emotions, and rothfuss is a real north star for that. gorgeous prose and everything is exactly where and when it needs to be. when I'm reading one of his books I have to constantly stop to jot something down for my own work because it jogs so many thoughts
AMERICAN PSYCHO, BRET EASTON ELLIS
This is the only book of his I've read so far, so I'm calling it out specifically. what a FUCKING masterclass in knowing the rules so you can break them. the fucking dialogue and characterization is bar none, I was HOWLING laughing (it's much funnier than the movie). his prose flows so strangely and perfectly around, it's super dialogue heavy how I like, and people talk like people while also being insanely absurd and funny. it's unparalleled in those micro-level interactions I love to write
URSULA LE GUIN
The fuckin woman herself!!! there's nothing to say about her work that most people don't already know, but the thing that is so powerful to me is that she has a way of describing the most mundane details that makes me just pause and be so grateful to be alive. aside from the content of her work, which is world class storytelling and also some truly gutting stuff, there's just this evocative nature to it. just like.. wow I am literally sitting on a sunny hillside in the long grass, tired and dirty from work but very alive. drinking some cold water and eating some crusty bread.... it's incredible.
BONUS: MOVIES
I am so inspired by movies!! movies are essentially novel length and I get a lot of storytelling inspiration from movies. here are some that I love for narrative reasons
After Hours (Scorcese)
One of my favourite "guy has the worst night of his life" movies. an excellent example of how much good shit you can stuff into a single evening in a character's life, with threads connecting it all.
Daddy Longlegs (Safdie bros)
An all timer. A perfect example of writing a protagonist who's a dirtbag, and of making your audience SO fucking uncomfortable. Any narrative that gets at that level of discomfort is fucking incredible, it's such a specific thing
Thunder Road (Jim Cummings)
Just an incredible characterization of a protag. Immediately gets you into his head. Incredible portrayal of anger issues and addiction, and a stellar example of combining humour and deep crushing sadness, failure, patheticness etc in a way I find massively inspiring
THANKS FOR ASKING, THIS WAS FUN
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nightofmiracles · 2 months
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does anybody else ever think about tortuga and how marrow's outfit is the basic one every other military personnel has, meaning tortuga might have died not that long ago before the show went to atlas & marrow might have joined the aceops right afterwards since he didn't even have a tailored uniform yet
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automatonknight · 9 months
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here's the prick i was talking about^ i have so many thoughts and notes about him but they're mostly incomprehensible so when i organize maybe them i'll post them who knows
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golyadkin · 2 months
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Long road to Colorado
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