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notoriouslydevious · 2 years

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Twitter is fucking weird. IT’S FAN ART.

Haven’t posted my personal thoughts on tumblr in a LONG time and after seeing what I saw on my TL, I just wanted to get everything off my chest. I’ve been posting more settphel fan art on here, but as I’ve stated before, I’m not really a fan of the ship; however, I can appreciate the artists work who draw the ship. Something people on twitter can’t do.

Apparently someone drew SB Sett & Aphelios with their own OC and it made Settphel-GayLeaguetwt explode? Of course, Bitches- I mean, Witches, is at the forefront (are we even surprised?). Here’s the art in question:

Sett and Aphelios with Ace’s friend’s OC in the middle. Their oc is absolutely adorable, just vibin’ in the middle of Sett and Aphelios.

Tweet that started it all:

a mutual of witches said they thought the artist’s oc was cute. This was their response:

Peak intelligence. Destroyed them with facts and knowledge. I don’t know if they’ll ever be able to recover. Even more quote retweets:

“Can we have anything?” How does this take away anything from you? A single piece of fan art in the PLETHORA of Settphel fan art. As someone else mentioned; GravesTF was confirmed this year, Ezko in pulsefire, Lee Sin & Udyr, Aphelios in Sett’s Firecracker splash and now Settpehl in SB? I guess all of these dont count anymore because someone drew fan art of Sett & Aphelios with someone in between them.

People calling the pic “homophobic” even though Sett was hinted to be Bisexual by his narrative writer for the skin line. While people HEADCANON that Aphelios is mlm or ace, he hasn’t been confirmed by Riot as either. So, no, not homophobic. This commenter biphobic? most likely.

“I hate women making mlm relationships be about them” “How dare someone draw these characters, that I don’t own, the way they want! They’re so selfish!”

This was the comment that pushed me to making a post:

“Seems disrespectful” to who? Random people on twitter.com, who ship two fictional characters? How is this fan art ‘disrespectful’? Better, why do you feel disrespected by it? The fan art wasn’t made for YOU, so if you feel disrespected, that sounds like a you problem. Also implied (where?) =/= canon. No where in lore or voice lines, (as of right now) has stated that Aphelios is mlm. I would say that it’s headcanoned by a majority of the Settphel community, but remember, your head canon =/= canon.

They have since deleted their original thread but they’re still quote retweeting:

Again, how does this one piece of fan art erase your representation? This artist’s fan art isn’t canon. Riot themselves didn’t make official promo art of Sett with Soraka or changed his voice lines so he doesn’t call Aphelios mooncake. Settphel is still “canon” whether artists draw them with other characters or not. (also the “I was bi for half my life,” good for you? Dont know what that has to do with fictional characters and a piece of fan art = erasure. It’s giving “I have a black friend” energy.) Also, “people with too much free time,” yet you made a whole ass thread about how “disrespected” you felt about a piece of fan art and continued to talk about it in quote retweets AND in dms after you deleted said thread so...

Doesn’t matter if it’s canon or not, stop trying to police what artists can and cannot draw. Fan art DOESN’T HAVE TO BE CANON, IT CAN BE WHATEVER THE FUCK PEOPLE WANT IT TO BE BECAUSE IT’S *THEIR* FAN ART. I cant believe that has to be said. There are HUNDREDS of other artists on twitter actually drawing Sett and Aphelios together. I’ve only seen a couple of people draw Settraka and other art like this because psychos dogpile and harass these artists into either deleting the artwork or privating/deleting their account. Yummy, bullying people over fucking fan art. Someone pointed out, “people bully settphel artists too because they don’t like settphel” to which I say, don’t ever bully ANYONE. PERIOD. You don’t like what the artist drew? Block & mute, baby. Leave them alone, let them and mutuals enjoy their art/ship in peace. No one gives a fuck and needs to hear you announce that you don’t like it. I’ll personally say on my own tumblr blog, “I’m not really a fan of [insert ship here]” but if I ever do make that comment, it’s usually followed by, “but I definitely can appreciate the artist’s work and I like the artist’s style.” Again, I’d never comment that under the artist’s post; I’ll say it in my own personal space. I’ll just give them a like, maybe a retweet and keep on scrolling. They don’t need to know that I’m not into that ship. They probably also dont care and have enough people already telling them that anyways. They didn’t draw it for me, they drew it because they liked it. “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I’ve been being a lot better about typing up something to someone else and just thinking to myself, “its not worth it” and deleting the whole thing. I’m not gonna change their mind and they aren’t going to change mine so why bother, you know? Here is my own personal ranting space so it’s a bit different.

And yes, before you point out how this isn’t the only fandom that’s toxic and how toxic other fandoms are, like the genshin fandom, almost everyone pictured here is also part of the genshin fandom. Coincidence? No. Toxic individuals of a feather are gonna flock together lol.

A cherry on top:

“I’m going to need to take a break from the community because someone drew fan art of two characters, that I don’t own, with their own oc, and it made that me upset.” Bruh.💀 Fucking toddlers, man. Alright everyone, lesson of the day is: you’re not allowed to draw anyone with anyone else except their canon significant other or the most popular head canon. Yes, I’m going to police what you draw and if you draw what I dont like, it’s erasure and it hurts my feelings. :’c Y’all can only draw what I like, okay? Okay. But seriously like... bruh. Over ONE. SINGLE. PIECE. of fan art. In the OCEAN of Settphel fan art that’s all over twitter, some settphel fans felt so attacked and butthurt that this person drew one picture of Sett and Aphelios with their OC.

The artist didn’t give a shit about their feelings and drew this in response. All I gotta say is power to ‘em.

It’s giving:

You’ll always hear me say, as long as it’s not illegal, gore, incest, etc, ship what you want to ship. I’m also going to add to that, let other people ship what they want to ship. Someone drawing the two characters you like not together and with someone isn’t erasure or a personal attack. Sett and Aphelios aren’t your OCs, and artists can draw them doing whatever they want.

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vaguely-concerned · 1 year

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A post-Inquisition comic about Hawke coming home, because my heart has been aching since 2014 and I needed some catharsis at long last haha. I drew most of this over Christmas but I never intended it to become a longer thing as I was doing the first page, which is why Hawke's outfit changes completely after that. Huge plus of drawing with a ballpoint pen: forces you into an anti-perfectionist YOLO whatever-happens-happens mindstate, since once you've put the mark down on the page you just have to live with it. Huge drawback of drawing with a ballpoint pen: once you've put the mark down on the page you just have to live with it. Ah well, c'est la vie

Transcript of the dialogue under the cut/some corrections, because some of it got lost along the way to digital or fell victim to my terrible handwriting, and in some places I changed my mind about the wording but as previously mentioned: ballpoint pen and all that entails lmao

Merrill: Varric said you tried to stay behind in the Fade.

Hawke: Yeah, well, there’s some BIG potential in the housing market in there. Could’ve made a killing. Alas, it was not to be.

Merrill: Hawke, I — I don’t think you understand what you mean to us. Or… or if you do, I don’t understand how you could still think — how you could act as if…

Hawke: …As if?

Merrill: As if you don’t MATTER!

Merrill: We would follow you anywhere, if only you’d let us. You have to know that.

Hawke: Yes, I know. I think that might be part of the problem. Maybe you guys should upgrade your standards for who to follow from ‘the first and best person in the group with any sense of direction’.

Merrill: To guide those who are lost is an act of hellathen — a noble struggle. There is no shame in it.

Hawke: There is when what you’re most likely to lead them to is grim and painful doom. I seem to have an unfortunate trend on my hands. If one is to be regarded as misfortune and two starts to look like carelessness, I shudder to think what I’ve been up to.

Merrill: Is that why you sent us away?

Hawke: I never —

Merrill: Hawke, you are wonderfully clever in so many ways, but please don’t act as if I do not know you.

Hawke: It… was my responsibility.

Merrill: Was it?

Hawke: My fault, certainly.

Merrill: We were there when you found Corypheus too, you know. And we couldn’t stop it either. Does that make it our guilt as well?

Hawke: It’s not the same.

Merrill: Isn’t it? Do you think Bethany’s to blame as well, through blood alone?

Hawke: HAH! No, I don’t. And it’s very unkind of you to call me out on it, by the way. Rude.

Merrill: I do know you pretty well by now.

Hawke: You do.

Hawke: It wasn’t about that, anyway. Not really. It was good old-fashioned run-of-the-mill cowardice.

Merrill: I don’t believe that.

Hawke: It was. It had already been on my mind, but as that demon spoke I could no longer pretend… I couldn’t ignore anymore that…

Merrill: …Hawke?

Hawke: …that I would rather die than have to see another one of you — to have to bury one more — to fail you all yet ag—... I can’t…I can’t.

Merrill: Oh, Hawke. I’m so sorry.

Hawke: I can’t lead anyone anywhere, Merrill. I’m lost too.

Merrill: I know. I know. We all are. But —

Merrill: But you gave us the gift of not having to walk that path alone. When there was no other shelter in this world, you gave us a home. Please, lethallin, let us give the same to you. You don’t have to lead to anywhere. Just allow us to walk beside you. It pains me to think of you all alone.

You know, I, um — I still have that ball of twine Varric gave me. We could share it, if you want.

Hawke: That’d be great, Merrill. Thank you.

Merrill: I missed you so much. All of you.

Hawke: Even Fenris?

Merrill: Even Fenris. And his scowl.

Hawke: …I missed you too. Ah! That reminds me — I’ve got something for you! A gift.

Merrill: Oh, you didn’t have to —

Hawke: Take it as an apology for all the Wintersend presents I missed while I was away.

Merrill: A feather? Ma serannas, lethallin, it’s lovely! I’ve never seen one like this, what kind of bird is it from? Hm. It’s so big… This is going to sound so silly, but if I didn’t know any better I would have almost though it was from a griff —

…a griff…

…a…???!! :D

Hawke: Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything. Well. What tiny part of everything I actually understood, anyway. …I’m sorry, Merrill. I’m back now, I promise. And you would have made a much better Keeper than you give yourself credit for. Let’s go home.

Merrill: Oh, yes, let’s! Varric let everyone know, so Aveline should be waiting outside the city, and Isabela said she’d pick up Fenris once her ship is ready again, and — and please tell me about the griffons, lethallin, I am dying to know!

(please imagine Hawke doing a frighteningly good 'no shit there I was' Varric impression and then explaining whatever the fuck went down at Weisshaupt here, THE END)

Also some clarifications: Hawke did not kill Anders, he just feels extremely bad about and responsible for everything at all times (he asked Anders to leave and sided with the mages), and Hawke has been travelling with (Circle) Bethany the whole time since Weisshaupt, so that's why Merrill doesn't mention her. She Is Okay, Baby Sister Safe and Accounted For, please do not worry.

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #merrill #hawke #my art #this is not ship art but honestly if you want it to be I don't mind lol #my hawke is aro/ace and/or homoromantic demisexual. sort of (it's complicated)#but the friendship arc with merrill has always been special to me. so I made this about it

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hitechlatte · 2 years

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Unsent Messages - A ROTTMNT Fanficition

I'm working on a ROTTMNT fic centered around our favorite purple mad genius <3.

I'm eventually going to post this on AO3, but I want to finish writing the whole fic first so I make sure I know exactly what direction I'm going in for the story. It takes place after the movie, so spoiler warning!

But anyhoo, here is a sneak peek! This is the summary and first chapter. Let me know what you think!

Fanfiction Summary:

It’s been over 5 years since the Kraang invasion and many theories have spurred up over the years. Theories like the Kraang created anything that didn’t look exactly human. Ever since, Yokai and Mutants alike have gone into hiding to try and keep some stability for the traumatized survivors of the world.

So when Donnie makes a new friend online, can he tell her the truth about who he is? Or will she shun him like so much of society already has?

Chapter 1

Donnie sighed loudly and tossed his sketching pen across the glossy surface of the table. As the pen skidded along, little black marks littered the table's screen. Groaning, he hit the undo button in the corner of the table a few times.

As he leaned back in his chair, his gaze swung up to the ceiling of his lab. The arch of the abandoned subway tunnel still looked as dull as when they first arrived 10 years ago. So much had changed after their battle with the Shredder and then the Kraang, but his ceiling was resolute. It mocked him with its unwavering monotony.

For a brief moment the ceiling’s challenge enticed him, as he happily concocted schemes to thwart the bland arch of concrete. However, his joyful distraction was quickly snuffed out by thoughts of his incomplete blueprints begging to find their undiscovered resolution.

“Should I make a post?” Donnie asked the ceiling, “Although, I can’t recall when a post I’ve made actually procured any successful suggestions... However, I am regrettably out of ideas, so let us take a dive with the heathens of the inter-webs, and hope for positive results.”

Swirling his chair over to his monitor, he pulled up a robotics sub-reddit and began typing furiously on his computer’s interface.

“Recommendations needed for a uhhh complex robotics project written with C protocol...” Donnie said aloud as he began typing out a reddit post, detailing out the general premise of the project along with the issues he had stumbled upon.

With a reluctant hit of the post button, he leaned back in his chair and groaned again. Dejectedly standing up, he returned to his electronic sketching table, fervently scribbling another attempt at the blueprint on its screen.

After a few hours, he rubbed his eyes, his wrist aching. Stretching out his arms, he took a look at his wrist panel and saw 7 replies from his post.

Swinging back over to his computer, he plopped down in his chair and pulled the screen back up.

Prepare yourself for disappointment Donnie, the probability of real assistance is at best one percent. Donnie thought to himself.

Scrolling through the comments, he began muttering under his breath,

“Already tried that idea… Nope… Tried it… Nope not compatible… Heh, it’s cute you’re trying… Good effort but no… and- …wait”

Eyes darting back and forth, Donnie quickly read through the last comment. A detailed paragraph with bulleted steps and ideas scrolled across his screen. Fluttering his eyes, he leaped back over to his sketching table. He read the response again and again as he quickly drew another attempt at the blueprint.

“That- That’d work!” He exclaimed.

Standing there, staring at the blueprint below him, he couldn't muster any words. Just an expression of joyful disbelief rested on his face.

Slowly making his way back to his computer, he sat down and began typing.

BootyShaker9000: Thanks @caffieneaddict7200, that actually worked! I can’t believe you came up with that let alone so quickly.

Only momentarily after hitting send, his computer beeped back at him.

CaffieneAddict7200: Glad to hear @bootyshaker9000! Super interesting problem. Usually don’t see such complex concepts on here was excited to take a crack at it.

BootyShaker9000: Happy I could provide you with such intellectual sustenance @caffieneaddict7200.

Donnie smirked after hitting send, going back and reviewing his blueprints checking for any issues or possible edge cases. The panel on his wrist flashed brightly.

A new DM? Donnie thought to himself, clicking on the notification.

The user caffieneaddict7200 is requesting to chat with you.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:35 PM

Hey there bootyshaker9000. Thanks for the challenge earlier. If you ever need to bounce ideas around with another Engineer, feel free to hit me up here. I swear all the questions in here are like robotics 101, so I’d love to bounce ideas around with you sometime, if you’d want.

With an excited expression plastered across his face, Donnie tapped out an immediate response.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:36 PM

Excellent! Saves me from having to filter through the comments. Honestly I’ve posted a few dozen times on here, and I think this is the first time I’ve ever gotten actually helpful advice.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:37 PM

Yeah I can tell. Was curious and went through your prior posts. You seem to work with some interesting stuff. I can’t believe that one guy asked if you tried unplugging and plugging it in again.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:37 PM

Right? I was astounded by his response. Like, it was a solar powered drone, you can’t plug and unplug the sun!

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:38 PM

Hahaha I believe it. I’ve posted a few times and the responses I always get blow my mind. Like sometimes I wonder if people say crazy stuff on purpose.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:38 PM

I mean it IS the internet. I wouldn’t put it past them.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:40 PM

You know what I can agree with that. So uhhh BootyShaker9000, very professional name by the way, what do you do with all these projects? Like you’ve asked about things across the whole technical spectrum. Contract work right? No way you could manage to have that much free range at a tech giant.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:41 PM

The tech giants couldn’t handle my suave dance moves, so I said to hell with them. So yes you are correct, I’ve been doing contract work for about 7 years. I even have a few patents and trademarks under my belt.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:42 PM

That would definitely explain it. Tech giants want all the weird people with great skills without their weirdness. You’re not missing out if it makes you feel any better. They conned me with free coffee and healthcare, but emphasis on conned.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:42 PM

It sounds like the name fits then. How long have you been trapped at your monotonous 9-5?

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:43 PM

9 to 9 is more like it with how they run this place. Been here about 3 years now, but in the game for about a decade. The place I'm at now specializes in medical tools. It’s pretty cool to do something meaningful, but the crunch is ridiculous.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:44 PM

Ah yes the salary woes. If I have to crunch for a deadline, my clients at least feel the pain as well when they receive the bill. Curious, what’s your longest work stretch?

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:44 PM

63 hours, no sleep. That’s when I really started getting into espressos.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:45 PM

Ahhhh an individual of taste. Although you're missing out. Americanos are definitely the better choice.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:46 PM

Ah yes the very classy watered down espresso. Definitelyyyy delicious ;P. You probably like skim milk too don’t you, you heathen.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:47 PM

Alas, the mysterious engineer has discovered my secret. It’s true. I am but a simple man with simple tastes. Why go for extreme flavors and overwhelm yourself?

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:48 PM

Although I disagree… I can respect someone who knows what they want. Anyways, I gotta run, my break’s almost up and my boss is gonna be on me if I don’t get back to it.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 5:49 PM

You’re permitted breaks? Maybe your job is a tad more cushy than you’re letting on ;P.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 5:49 PM

Hahaha you’re hilarious. Been fun BootyShaker, let's talk soon.

Leaning back into his chair, Donnie smirked, just rereading the message over again.

“Well I did say 1% chance…” He chuckled, as he sent the blueprint over to another monitor by his welding table.

_______________________________________________________

Night had fallen over the city, a black blanket laying above the blinding lights of the buildings below.

Mikey stared up at the empty sky, with his feet dangling off the edge of the tall apartment complex. Swaying his legs forward and back, he let out a loud groan.

“Me too man.” Leo grunted in response, “Raph, it’s been 2 hours. I think it’s just some dumb teens playing a prank.” Leo speculated.

“I hate agreeing with Leo, but I think he’s right.” Donnie explained, tapping away on his wrist panel, “I’ve been searching through the city security cameras and local social media posts and I’m not getting a hit on anything.”

“I mean this wouldn’t be the first time a dumb kid tries making up some Kraang horror story to try and sound cool to their friends.” Leo stated.

“I guess you’re right.” Raph sighed, “It’s just this is the second separate reporting of this, and it’s not like this is circling the news or anything.”

“It could still be coincidental. Two data points is not a lot.” Donnie remarked, “And besides, it’d be hard for every security camera in New York to miss well how did they describe it again?”

“A 10 foot kraang-like dog” Raph said, “That’s pretty much word for word from the call-in.”

“And we’re sure this isn’t a yokai or mutant of some sort?” Leo asked

“Already checked that. Both Draxum and Big Mama said they don’t know nobody that looks like that.” Raph explained.

“Nor do I have anyone cataloged in our mutants/yokai database with that type of description.” Donnie concurred.

“So it sounds like we don’t have any leads. I don’t think this is worth freaking ourselves out over, unless we hear something else.” Leo stated.

“I just can’t help but think what if- ” Raph began to speak, but was cut off by a loud sigh by Leo.

“Look I know, and I get it. And I get why you’re worried. But there’s no way alright?” Leo explained, “It just wouldn’t make any sense and there’s no need to worry over speculation.”

Raph reluctantly nodded in response, as an awkward silence fell over the group.

Mikey clutched his arm, and tilted his head up about to speak, but looked quickly back down, shaking the thought from his mind.

“Fine…” Raph sighed, finally breaking the silence, “But Donnie, can you keep checking the cameras for a bit?” Raph asked.

“Yes, yes, I’ll keep the scanning program running for a few more hours and have it take screenshots if it finds anything out of place.” Donnie explained.

“Thanks D.” Raph smiled.

With that, the group hopped along the rooftops and eventually returned to the lair. The group settled down to rewatch the 47th installment of the Jupiter Jim series, with a steamy pile of pizza leaned against the side of the couch.

As Mikey was loading up the movie, he chuckled slightly, “Glad there’s so many Jupiter Jim movies, otherwise I feel like we’d get bored of them after all these years.”

“Agreed. Although we definitely rewatch some more than others.” Leo explained, with his mouth half full.

As the movie started up, a ping chirped from Donnie’s wrist panel.

Raph jumped up, “The program get a hit?”

Donnie looked down at the notification and shook his head, “No, it’s just one of the Reddit threads I’m on.”

Raph groaned and sat back down.

Swiping open the notification, Donnie read through the message.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 10:29 PMAlright bootyshaker. I gotta know how the blueprint turned out. You make a prototype yet? Or have you been too busy dancing your way through every club in whatever country you’re from?

Donnie stifled a chuckle and began tapping away on his wrist panel.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 10:31 PM

Ah yes my mission to out dance all of the US is still ongoing, but I think I’ve taken out most of the east coast and some parts of the Canadian border. Although the midwest is next on my list.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 10:32 PMThank goodness I’m on the West Coast then. I can be safe from your booty shaking wrath… for now! But so I’ll take that as a no?

BootyShaker9000 Today at 10:33 PM

I’ve made some progress but then ran out of quality scraps. I’m going to go hunting for more materials tomorrow and make more progress. In the meantime, I’m doing very intellectual and classy things like watching Jupiter Jim.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 10:34 PMDamn it I can’t make fun of you for that because skipping anything to watch Jupiter Jim is always a valid excuse. Loved those movies when I was younger. Which one you watching?

BootyShaker9000 Today at 10:35 PM

Jupiter Jim and The Planet of the Pups. Just started so he’s only just crash landed and hasn’t even stumbled upon Puptropolis yet.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 10:36 PMGod I forgot how bad the names were in those movies. Between things like Puptropolis and singing songbird songstone or whatever his name was, but I guess you gotta up the ante when you’ve made a million movies from the same IP.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 10:39 PM

Hey listen, that’s DOCTOR Singing Songbird Songstan the fourth to you. Dr. Songstan didn’t spend 10 years earning his PHD in opera-ology to be disrespected like this. It was his tenacity and love for music that helped bring electric guitars and synthesizers to opera. He single winged-ly changed the history of music as the entire universe knows it.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 10:40 PMDid you like copy that from the wikipedia page, or did you just like KNOW that.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 10:41 PM

Jupiter Jim and the Hard Rock Opera is a classic. I would never forget Dr. Songstan’s struggles like that.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 10:41 PMI’m partially concern, but also slightly impressed?

“Donnie!” Leo yelled, “Your beeps are distracting us from the movie, and I think you’re going to make Raph pop a vein or something.”

“I’m fine! It’s fine!” Raph said, squeezing the life out of a throw pillow, “Just please let me know if you get a beep that tells me about our dog problem!”

“Fine, fine.” Donnie rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his wrist panel.

BootyShaker9000 Today at 10:43 PM

I broke one of the sacred rules of Jupiter Jim screenings and let my watch ping one too many a times. I’m going to set my watch to silent for now, but I will make sure to message you later. Hopefully I’ll have some updates on the prototype then.

CaffieneAddict7200 Today at 10:44 PMWhoops hope I didn’t disturb whoever you’re watching with too much. Have fun learning about the power of love and lasers or whatever other corny lesson that movie had.

With a slight chuckle, Donnie dropped his arm and turned his attention back to the movie.

And all the way on the other side of the country, a quiet chuckle echoed in a dark bedroom. The glow of an arm watch softly lit a woman’s face. Her eyes gazed at the words on the screen, with her lips curled up into a gentle smile.

Dropping her arm against her sheets, the woman sighed aloud, feeling her spine crack as she exhaled.

“Sirixa, play NightTime playlist.” She commanded.

A little screen in the corner of her room lit up, calling out to her response,“Playing NightTime Playlist.”

A soft melody filled the room as the woman began to drift off to sleep.

#rottmnt #rise donnie #fanfic #tmnt donnie #tmnt 2018 #rise of the tmnt

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lindalofbroome · 2 years

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02 - Ambition

‘The sad thing is,’ Britta found herself saying, ‘that Vashti could no doubt be a very good trader if only her father would trust in her talent and leave her alone.’

STAR OF DELTORA The Hungry Isle Ch 18 - Friends

i dont know if rodda would write more for this series because it's pretty closed now. but there's still a part of me yearning for more. and i want so bad for vashti to have some agency and some redemption. she was the antagonist in a literary sense and she does have that White Woman™ vibes, but she's also just a kid and i dont think she's evil at heart. sod didn’t really end up going down the direction of exploring the moral greyness of people and your individuality as much, but like i can dream.

i feel like her parent/s were in her ear ever since she was born, fuelling a desire in her to win the apprenticeship and to be The Best. they nurtured her as a tool, but not as a person. not excusing her bullying and undermining, because that’s horrible, but does she know anything else? if her ‘superiors’ are not treating her with kindness and goodness, why would she treat her perceived ‘inferiors’ any differently.

anyway this post could be interpreted as vashti’s ambition. it pushed her to want the apprenticeship enough to cheat and bully. taking every advantage she could. on ship and off ship. take no prisoners mentality. belittling and dehumanising her opponents in her mind, clouding her judgement. similar to jasmine’s opponents in the rithmere games. a burly del-ignorant brute? a devious scavenging rascal? a poor shopkeeper’s daughter? vashti let her assumptions cloud her judgement, and now her enemies are bonded against her. she didn’t really have a chance.

but this post was about her parent/s when i drew up the sketch. i don’t know if her mother, irma, was as directly involved. the books reference her father, loy, much more often in meddling. so i dont know if she’s just like, his trophy wife or something like that and just let things happen warily, or if she held the same ambitions and was his accomplice. either way i would still direct blame on her, even if she was only indirectly responsible because i can’t believe that she was in the dark on the matter.

the vibes im getting out of this parent-daught relationship reminds me of that B99 episode where peralta and holt are talking about the kid graffiting police cars

Peralta: His daddy comes in and bails him out every time. He’s a lucky little jerk.

Holt: No, I wouldn’t say he was lucky. I feel bad for this kid. I mean, what kind of father cares so little for his son that he lets him get away with everything?

BROOKLYN NINE-NINE S01 E02

it’s not directly the same. but, at least to me, it’s clear that vashti is not seen as a daughter to be loved and led and encouraged to a prosperous future by them, but a tool and a key to a prosperous future for them. you know?

‘From what I have heard since I have been in here, Vashti’s father has been training her and her younger sisters for years with this contest in mind. He already has three ships of his own, but he wants control of the Trader fleet as well — especially the Star of Deltora.’ [Jewel said.]

STAR OF DELTORA Shadows of the Master Ch 9 The Announcement

like bruh??? imagine. having the fucking audacity. i hope that in a world where vashti wins, she eventually learns that he doesnt and shouldnt have power over her and something she won. it doesnt matter that he raised her, that he taught her things she knows. not everything she has was from him, and theres room for stuff outside of him.

i. also forgot she had siblings because it’s never mentioned again except in that quote. but i guess vashti is always on the periphery anyway. but i was thinking that the other candidates are older than britta, who just scraped in at 15, but i dont have concrete numbers in mind lol.

as i was working on this i was thinking maybe vashti was 18. i cant remember if i really had reasons for that or if i chose that arbitrarily alskdj like i guess she might be more used to being composed and more experienced and stuff which makes her intimidating. but she can be younger and still act like that.

but then i was thinking about since she technically also just scraped in (but on the other end) and then the implications of that hit me in the face. like her parent/s were already on her case, but the fact that she just got in probably increased their desperation and longing, and it would’ve been even worse than previous years. the familiar anticipation was manifesting into a lustful grab for power. it was scary. it was overwhelming. there was nothing but a need to make them happy. it’s no longer about a personal accomplishment but a trophy to sate her parents’ hunger. and of course it wouldn’t last. and if they had a taste for something so big, they’d only demand more and more. where would it end.

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iwantasourpickle · 9 months

Text

Fan Autoethnography

*i took this photo at a Harry Styles concert I went to in 2021*

My experience with my fandoms has ranged depending on the time of my life. When I was 13-14 the best word to describe my involvement will have to be obsession. If I liked something, I wanted it to be known and I surrounded myself with it. This still happens to me today, but I find it is only with musical artists. If I am going to a concert, I want to be as close as possible to the stage and I will be getting a shirt or something to have that reminder that I was there. I don't know where this obsession for having to be as close to the stage as possible came from, but I have never been able to break it. I always find myself in the mindset of "if i am not close enough, what is the point". I think this stems from wanting the best of everything and if I'm going to do something I need to have the best of the best. I find after a concert I always listen to that artist’s music a lot more and finding a new appreciation for them. This attachment has shaped my identity in a way that I can’t like something in a calm way. If I love something, everyone around me is going to know that I love that thing. This happens with books, tv shows, and especially music. I have and do wear fan merch especially tour merch that I have gotten from all the concerts that I have gone to. I don’t rewatch a lot of tv shows multiple times with the intention of finding ambiguities and subtext, but I have rewatched shows after hearing about that there are different topics being talked about to see if I can pick that up. I used to be involved in fan communities in middle school when I ran a fan page on Instagram for a social media influencer and I would actively create posts for that page. I also used to love being crafty and made a bunch of different types of things. I drew all over my notebooks and made posters when I loved the Fault in Our Stars. I follow a lot of artists on Instagram as music is a huge part of my life as well as a couple of authors whose books I love.

I think fandom has a negative stigma to it. The word itself has that stigma surrounding it and not what is means. Everyone is part of a fandom if they are a fan of any show, musical artist, etc. When a lot of people first think of the word fandom, their minds go straight to the extreme of LARP or extreme nerdiness over dungeons and dragons. While that is included into fandom, there is so much more. Being a fan of one direction is being part of a fandom, liking the show breaking bad is part of being a fandom, liking a popular book series is being part of a fandom. I do think fandom has constructed a binary of us vs. them. I think it is divided by how much you are “obsessed” with your fandom. If you are part of a fandom and are truly obsessed along with other people, I believe that would be an “us” situation. Where everyone part of “us” knows all of the lore behind that fandom etc. The “them” would be newer fans or fans who aren’t involving themselves in the background information/lore.

This leads into the idea of a thin line between “normal” and “excessive” fandom. I feel like there is a distinction in a couple of the fandoms that I am part of. When looking at all the Harry Styles fans, there are fans who love his music and support him by streaming and going to his concerts, which I would classify as being “normal”. On the other hand, there are the people who do all of the things a “normal” fan would do, but to be an “excessive” fan they would have to follow him around the world to see him perform, find which hotels he’s staying at, and other things that hinder his safety. The line for being an excessive fan is when you are getting in the way of other people to enjoy his music live or when the safety of the artist is in danger. I think it is a little excessive to want to follow someone all over the world to hear them perform let alone try to find out where they are staying in the off chance that you run into them. While I think my obsession stays behind the line of challenging an artists' safety, I still think there are certain things that people would consider me to be an "excessive" fan. For example, going back to me wanting to always be as close to the stage as possible. Some people would consider that to be excessive behavior while others would consider that normal.

While I don’t think I am part of any fandoms currently that use a specific language, there were fandoms that I was part of that would have specific words that they would use or even jokes that they would constantly say that made no sense unless you were part of that certain fandom. The One Direction fandom would hold onto anything remotely funny that the boys would say and would run that into the ground. There were a couple of jokes that they have said on a podcast, radio show, or during an interview that fans would then talk about all the time. Fandom language to me is the type of things that are talked about within the fandom itself that those who aren’t part of it wouldn’t understand at all.

#255fandom #TheOfficeofDocMalone

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the-kaedageist · 2 years

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Essek gets scammed

I am a silly person with a terrible memory, so it wasn't until you sent this ask and I opened the doc that I realized I had already posted this. However, I only posted it on tumblr and it was nearly a year ago, and it IS technically still a wip because I was going to write a longer fic from it back in the day! So I say it still counts, haha.

Since there’s no reason I can’t post it again, here it is in all its glory (original post is here):

Much like the decidedly unglamorous reality of traveling on the open road, attempting to find rooms for let was a challenge.

At first, it seemed as though it was going to be easy. Essek discovered a flyer on one of the noticeboards in Port Damali – Rooms for Rent, daily or monthly, it boasted, along with an address. Following the directions on the flyer, Essek-in-disguise discovered a kind elderly human woman who conveniently lent rooms in several buildings throughout the city.

“And they are nice?” he asked. “Furnished, clean, well maintained?”

“Oh, everything will be set up exactly to your specifications,” the woman promised, smiling in a way that proudly displayed her gold teeth. “A fancy man like you would enjoy our apartment building in The Crescents. It’s one of the wealthiest, safest, and cleanest neighborhoods in this city.”

Essek agreed that this building sounded to his liking, and the price did not seem all that steep. He handed her the hundred gold she requested as an up-front payment, and in return, she passed him a key. Things were going so well that Essek almost Sent to Caleb to tell him about it – but he waited, not sure where the boundaries between them lay after their trip to Aeor.

It was good that he had waited, because when he showed up at the address in The Crescents, he found himself staring in confusion at an empty lot. Knocking on the door of the neighboring house only drew him annoyed stares from the residents, who told him there were no such apartments anywhere nearby.

When he returned to the place where he’d rented the room, frustrated and irate, the woman was gone and the building was shuttered and dark. Essek seethed at the locked door in front of him; had he been scammed?! Him, of all people? He was one of the smartest men in the Dynasty. How had he been outwitted by…by…some old woman?!

He returned to his run-down inn in terrible spirits. The room was dirty, the bed uncomfortable. He missed Caleb, more than he could express.

‘I hope you are having a better day than I,’ he finally Sent as he was preparing to trance. ‘I am having no luck finding a rental. I believe I may have been scammed today.’

He heard a sleepy chuckle on the other end. “There is always a place in Rexxentrum with me, should you need it,” Caleb’s voice murmured in his ear, sending an involuntary shiver down Essek’s spine. “I will not scam you, I promise.”

The Sending spell faded, leaving Essek alone with his thoughts about how much he wished to do just that; leave this rough life on the run behind and join Caleb in Rexxentrum.

Maybe someday, he would have the courage to make such a leap.

Ask me about my wips! | Other responses

#essek thelyss #critical role #shadowgast #wip game #my wips #am I going to write more of this?? who knows #asks

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cubur · 2 years

Photo

Don't let me go...

I drew two different endings for this art! One ends with a good ending and the other with a bad ending. Which one would you like to see? Well... sadly I can't ask you to choose it, 'cause only time will choose

I might give you a little headache now, but there's something I want to say... If you've noticed i've been quiet for a while. As I mentioned in my previous post, I was working on some zines but this took longer than i expected... Yes this is probably because I've had motivation problems for more than two weeks. Y'know, sometimes there are things we can't change... in the world and in our private life as well. So right now, I feel like I've fallen down a long flight of stairs. It's so dark in here and I'm all alone. I don't hate being alone but this time it hurts like hell... I am suffering, and want to cry out loud, but I'm not even trying to do that cause I know no one can hear me from this far down. Well, I'm having a problem in my private life that I'm uncomfortable talking about... About an issue whose outcome is unclear. Not exactly but this is a related issue with my pc. But no it's not about repair or stuff. I'll talk more about this once the result is clear (don't ask now pls). That's why I drew two different endings for this piece since the result is still unclear

And now... Can I ask you a favor? I have some superstitions, I believe in evil eye and good wishes as well. So, can you pray or wish or at least put this "🙏" in the comment section for the good ending? Because if the result is the bad ending one, I'll have to put an end to my freelance artist career for an indefinite period... And since I hate goodbyes, I really don't want to see this ! Please forgive me if I don't respond to comments/dms right away, I don't feel well enough to talk or answer. Just... Thank you if you've read this far! I hope everyone is well and safe over there! See you around

#narusasu #naruto #sasuke #Naruto Uzumaki #Sasuke Uchiha #sns #Don't let me go...#because maybe this is the end #...or beginning #Let's see if time will show me the light or the darkness #my art

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

What Is A Mother, But The Woman Who Loves Us Most?

A Batmom x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: I know there is a story like this already (by a different author) but I should preface that this is a story that I posted a year or so before but deleted my previous blog last year, so it's not going to seem like it. I haven't copied any ideas, this is my own that I posted a year or so ago, and re-posting again now. -Thorne

You are not my mother!

The loathing words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he watched the cave go deathly quiet around him. Everyone's eyes were wide, even hers, but a millisecond later, they set in a hard stare as she stood straight, her jaw tightening.

She nodded, staring at him. "You're right Damian. I'm not Talia al Ghul. I'm not your mother. But I will tell you what I am." She raised her left hand, flashing the silver wedding ring on her finger. "I'm your father's wife. And what I tell you to do in this manor is what I expect from you."

He shook his head in anger, glaring at her. "This is my father's manor!"

"No Damian, this is the Wayne Manor. And I've been, to use a rather weathered term, the lady of the house for almost fifteen years. Long before you were even a thought in Talia's mind." He stopped and she crossed her arms. "I may not be your mother, but you are a child and your father and I are the adults. When you turn eighteen, you can make all the decisions you want. Until then, what we say goes."

His lips drew in a taut line and she added, "I've already talked about it to Bruce. You're not allowed on patrol after what happened at the gala. If you want to complain to him about it, he's going to tell you the same thing." Her eyes shifted to the others, then she looked back at him one last time before turning around and walking up the stairs.

When she was gone, he let out a shout in anger and threw silver coffee pot against the cave wall. It hit the wall with a clang and dropped, rolling on the ground a few times as it spilled its contents, much like his mood.

He felt their eyes on them and he whipped his head up, glaring at them. "What?!"

Tim and Jason simply narrowed their eyes at him, but Dick walked forward and knelt in front of him. "Kiddo, that wasn't a nice thing to say to mom."

Damian scoffed at him before shoving past, climbing up the stairs. “Like the three of you haven't said that to her before." There was no return to his statement, giving him all the answer, he needed.

***

He stepped out of the study stretching his arms and listening to the sound of his bones popping before he shifted, moving towards the door. The boys had left a few minutes earlier to catch a rerun of an episode of Vikings, leaving him alone in the cave.

Alfred walked up to him, handing him a sweater before motioning to the door. "Mrs. Wayne has taken a seat out on the patio. I suspect you'll wish to see her."

Bruce nodded, taking the sweater from him before thanking him and moving out of the study and towards the patio. He crossed into the living room as he did, stopping to stare at his four sons passed out on the couch. The TV was still going, so he leaned down, gently taking the remote from Dick's hand and shutting it off.

He set the remote down and started his path again, but stopped when he heard, "You going to check on mom?" He turned around, looking at a his oldest.

Bruce nodded, taking in the sight of Dick’s arms wrapped around all of his brothers. “After you boys told me what happened, I thought I should talk to her about it."

Dick nodded, reaching up and rubbing his eyes, careful not to wake the others beside him. "He didn't mean it...he'll see that when he gets over being angry."

Bruce nodded and leaned over, ruffling his hair. “Tell Jason that you two should stay at the manor tonight...it's too late for you to head home anyway."

Dick started to argue, but a look from his father and quick, “Your mother would have a fit if you two tried to drive home now or later…you know that.”

His son nodded and Bruce turned around once more, this time making his way to the dimly lit patio. His hand curled around the cool metal handle of the sliding glass door, and he quietly opened it, stepping out onto the deck. She lay on the porch swing, covered by a heavy hound’s tooth blanket, with a barely full wine glass in her hand.

He walked towards her and bent over, picking up the wine bottle; he shook it lightly before quipping, "I can't believe you've drank an entire bottle in one sitting."

As if finally noticing his presence, she tipped her head lazily to him and mumbled, "It's empty?"

He snorted and tipped the bottle upside down. "As it was the day before it was bottled."

Bruce paused and grinned as she huffed a laugh and brought the glass she had in her hand up to her mouth. He watched her down the rest of her red wine before she set the glass on the table; he set the bottle beside it and shifted her forward, easing his way behind her until they were both comfortable. She rested her back against his chest, her head dropping against his shoulder. His arms came up around her as he pulled the blanket up to her neck, keeping her warm.

He was quiet for a second then he murmured, "...The boys told me what happened earlier."

There was a moment of silence, then she whispered, "I know I should be used to it after hearing it come from each of them..." She stopped, then continued with, "But it still stings to hear it."

A sad smile crossed his lips as he pressed his lips to her temple. "Of course it stings (Y/N)...you're their mother and you love them." After he didn't receive a response from her, he tipped his head and looked down. "(Y/N)? Love?" She turned her head, and he took in the sight of the tears in her eyes; his face fell at the sight and he brought a hand up, cupping her cheek. "Oh…sweetheart."

(Y/N) choked out a sob and pressed her face into the crook of his neck as she clenched a hand in his sweater. Bruce rested his chin on the top of her head as he rubbed her back, comforting her with quiet words.

***

Damian watched them from the screen door, feeling his heart clench in his chest at the sight of (Y/N) sobbing. He swallowed thickly and stepped back, only to come into contact with someone—something. He let out a quiet gasp and spun around, seeing Dick staring sadly out at his parents, Tim and Jason behind him doing the same.

Damian looked at them and whispered, "What are you three doing?"

Dick glanced at him briefly before motioning to them. "We heard the sliding door open, and we went to listen."

"I didn't know you were eavesdroppers."

A hand came up and cuffed him upside the head; he held his head, glaring at Jason who bit out, "Shut up, two-bit. You were eavesdropping too."

Damian opened his mouth to retort, but shut it and turned back around, looking at her. A moment passed, then he mumbled, "You said the same thing I did." He looked up at his brothers, who wore clouded expressions; each of them nodded after a few seconds, and he asked, "What happened?"

Dick was the first to speak, remembering a time from when he was a mere ten years old.

***

He stomped angrily through the house, not even caring about her following him; she called after him repeatedly. "Dick. Dick, honey, stop for a second."

He didn't listen, still moving. "No! You grounded me!"

"And I grounded you for a reason. You deliberately disobeyed me." He grunted at her and she called out, her voice ringing with authority, "Richard John Grayson. Not another step young man." He stopped at it and she continued, "You left the cave tonight and went on patrol without asking. As your mom-"

He spun around, his eyes angered as he spit, "You're not my mom! Stop acting like it!" Her mouth shut, and her eyes went wide from the declarations.

She blinked, obviously stunned at his words, and she stared down at her hands murmuring, "I may not be your real mother...but I...I am...I..." She drew off, bringing a hand up to wipe at her cheek. Dick's widened when she looked up at him, and he saw the tears beginning to spill, running down her cheeks.

He raised his hands out to her. "Wait! I—I didn't mean it!"

(Y/N) looked down and she brought a hand up to her mouth, moving past him, letting out a broken, 'excuse me'. He watched her go past him, then a few moments later, Bruce walked into the room and he turned to him.

"Bruce!" Bruce looked down at him, taking in the sight of Dick, who was almost in tears.

The lecture he had ready for him went out the window as he squatted in front of Dick. "Dick?"

The boy looked up at him, tears filling those big blue eyes. "I—I messed up B-Bruce."

He reached out a hand, wiping his tears away. "What happened Dick?"

Dick lowered his head and he whispered, "I a—accidently told (Y/N) that she wasn't my m-mom."

Bruce sighed at him and murmured, “Oh, Dick." The boy began to sob, and Bruce reached out, pulling him into a hug. "It's okay, bud."

***

Dick looked at her and murmured, "I've never forgotten the look she gave me after I said it to her..." He looked down at Damian, and said, "And neither has she."

Jason nodded at that. "I'm sure she's never forgotten how I left the cave telling her I had to go find my real mom.

***

"What are you looking at baby?"

He jerked forward, clicking the screen to minimize the images. "Nothing!" He spun around to see her walking towards him, an amused smile on her face.

"And I'm assuming that nothing is not important?" She questioned.

He nodded. "Not at all."

She stared at him until he sighed and turned around, clicking the screen to reveal the images of the three women; she walked up to him. "Who are these women?"

He pointed to each one. "Sharmin Rosen, Lady Shiva, and Sheila Haywood."

(Y/N) nodded, looking at them. "They're very pretty women." She paused and looked at him. "But why are you looking at them." He dropped his gaze and picked at his fingers. "Jason? Hon?"

He looked back up at her. "One of them is my mom."

Her eyes widened as she said, "Like...your biological mom?"

He nodded. "I found out after I went back to my old apartment." He looked between the screen and (Y/N). "I'm gonna track them down." She was silent, her eyes moving to the screen, and he turned to her, rising from the chair. "I have to go find them...I have to go find my real mom."

***

"And those were the last words I ever said to Ma." They stared at Jason as he leaned against a table by the door. "And it got a lot worse when I came back...I said horrible things to Ma...about her not caring...about her not being a mother." He went silent and shook his head. "I fucked up a lot of things between us for a good couple years."

Tim watched him, then nodded. "I hadn't even realized I'd actually said it to mom...it was such an offhanded comment that I didn't even know what I said until she was gone."

***

He barely registered the sound of his bedroom door opening, let alone the sound of her footsteps as she walked up to him. He did, however, hear the disappointment in her tone as she said, "Timmy...you need to go to bed."

He shook his head, typing on the keyboard. "I'm fine."

"Honey, you've been awake for almost forty-eight hours." She rested a hand on his shoulder. "It's not good for your body if you stay up like this."

"I'm fine. Really, I'm good."

She squeezed his shoulder, the other hand reaching out to close the laptop. "You'll be good when you're asleep in bed." Skimming the top of this laptop, she stopped when his curled around her wrist.

He turned to her and said, "Will you stop mothering me? I'm fine. I don't need your help."

He let go of her and turned back to the screen, barely registering the way she quietly whispered, “Alright Timmy...goodnight”, and walked out of his room.

***

"The only reason I actually realized what I said was after a few minutes, I realized that she hadn't told me she loved me after saying good night." He paused, digging a groove into the carpet with his toes. "Mom didn't say anything about it the next day, but I could tell that something had shifted. She was more reserved when it came to me." He looked at Damian. "Look, I know you and I don't get along, but I'm going to tell you something brother to brother. Go apologize to mom and tell her that you didn't mean it."

It was all he said before he looked at the others and waved. "I'm going to bed.

Jason soon followed saying, "I'm with Timbers. I'm gonna go crash."

The two of them began making their way to their rooms when the sound of the screen door opening and closing brought their attention back. They looked towards it, seeing Bruce carrying (Y/N), her head pressed against his chest.

He stopped when he saw them, his surprised look giving way to a hard expression. "Were you four watching?" They all started making excuses, but he shushed them, nodding at their sleeping mother; they shut their mouths and he brought his foot back, sliding the door closed.

"Is mom alright?"

Bruce looked at Dick and nodded. "She's fine. Wine drunk...but fine." He looked down at Damian. "(Y/N) does a lot for all of us. You owe her an apology when she wakes up." Damian nodded, watching as he walked past them, carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom.

***

The dull throb in her head told her the migraine was something she was going to need some aspirin, water, and a heavy blanket to block out the light to fix. She groaned lightly as she burrowed her face in her pillow, then she opened her eyes and looked around the room.

Immediately, she took in the sight of the four of her boys curled up like cats in the bed with her. A smile graced her lips and she reached down beside her hip, running a hand over Tim's head; he shifted in his sleep, burying his face in her side and she struggled to bite back the laugh that wanted to come out. She reached over again and ran her hands through Dick and Jason's hair, watching them do the same.

She smiled at them, then a voice sounded from beside her. "Are you awake, Umi?" (Y/N) looked to her side, seeing Damian curled up beside her. Bruce's broad shoulders made him look so tiny from where he was laying and she nodded, raising a hand and caressing his head.

"I'm awake, sweetheart." He nodded, then moved under her arm, resting his head on her shoulder. Her arm settled comfortably around him, and she brought up her hand, gently running her fingers through his short hair.

After a few moments he whispered, "...I'm sorry, Umi."

Her response was to press her lips to his forehead, and murmur, "I know, baby."

He swallowed thickly, feeling the beginnings of tears gathering in his eyes. "I didn't mean to say it."

She nodded; her lips still pressed to his forehead. "I know you didn't, sweetheart. It was something said in anger."

He moved to sit up, looking up at her as he whispered harshly, "But I have hurt you! I made you cry! I...did this." He dropped his gaze, closing his eyes, and (Y/N) watched the tears begin to fall down his cheeks. He looked back up at her a few seconds later and said, "You are my mother, Umi...you are the only mother I've known."

(Y/N) shifted, careful not to wake her sons, then she cupped Damian's cheeks in her hands. "Baby...it's okay...I'm not angry at you."

He shook his head in her grip. "But you're sad because I said you weren't my mother."

(Y/N) brushed her thumbs under his eyes, wiping away the tears. "We all say things that we don't mean." He looked up at her and she searched his eyes. "What matters is that when they are said, we try our best to fix what we've done wrong."

Damian nodded his head and whispered, "I'm sorry, Umi."

A sad smile crossed her lips and she leaned forward, kissing his forehead. "I am too, baby." She pulled away and brushed his cheeks again. "I still love you though...with all my heart."

"You do? Even after what I said?"

(Y/N) nodded, pulling him to her; he rested his head under her chin, and she wrapped her arms around him as she murmured, "The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness." She brought up a hand, caressing the side of his head as she whispered, "Each of you has told me as some point that I am not what I am. But I know deep down that none of you meant it. And each time I heard it, it hurt...but forgiveness is a good thing when used."

"To err is human...to forgive...divine."

She smiled at his quote and squeezed him gently. "I love you, Damian...my beautiful baby boy."

The feeling of tears gathered in his eyes, but he blinked them away, his hand clenching in her shirt as he replied, "I love you too, Umi."

There was a moment of silence between them until, "How come the demon-spawn gets all the love? We were here first."

Damian raised his head, glaring at Tim. "I am Umi's favorite, Drake."

"The hell you are, Tater-tot. If anyone's the favorite, it's me."

"I think you're wrong, Little-wing. Iwas the first. I'm the favorite."

"No one asked you, dickhead."

"Mom! Jason called me a mean name!"

"Stop mocking me!"

"Mom!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her two oldest as they began to shove at each other, and eventually, Tim and Damian got into the mess, and she watched their fists and feet fly at each other.

A grunt sounded from beside her and she looked down to see her husband glaring at her. "You just had to get them going this early, didn't you, Mrs. Wayne?"

(Y/N) let out a 'pfft' and leaned down, pressing her lips to his before laying her head on his arm, their foreheads touching. "Yeah...but I know that when they're fighting like this, they're giving each other love."

"Tough love."

She snorted and tickled his side, feeling him jerk away. "But love nonetheless."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of someone grunting cut him off. "Mom! Jason won't let me out of this headlock!"

"Mom! Jason won't let me-"

"STOP MOCKING ME, JASON!"

"You're unbearable, Drake! I am Umi's favorite!"

"Keep telling yourself that, oompa-loompa."

"I am not an oompa-loompa!"

(Y/N) sighed and looked at her husband. "Never a dull morning, is it Mr. Wayne?"

He grinned at her but grunted when one of them hit his side. "No, it's not Mrs. Wayne. No, it is not."

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reverie-starlight · 2 years

Text

{vulnerable- haikyuu boy of your choice}

This might be one of my favourite things I've ever written. Maybe.

------------------------------------------------------------ Genre: F L U F F (comfort)

Warnings: none really, just some mentions about low self esteem, and mental health issues, but it's brief.

Reader: Gender Neutral! (But I did write it super late, based on a scenario I was thinking up, so if there's any specific terms used, lmk and I'll edit it!)

Character: any haikyuu boy (fun fact: I pictured Osamu while writing it)

Summary: vulnerability is hard for you, but late nights like these with your boyfriend make you emotional. Who could you trust enough to be vulnerable with if not him?

Notes: I literally wrote this at 3:30 a.m. and I only proof read it once, so there's probably some mistakes!! Also this absolutely stemmed from listening to People Watching by Conan Gray.

*once again cross posted from my wattpad*

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Your faces were centimeters apart, his hand cupped your cheek and you could feel his thumb as it ran back and forth over your skin, along your cheekbone.

Eyes were locked and the only emotion you could detect from him was one so very pure. He was so full of love, that you knew there was no possible room for the darkness you had grown so used to searching for in people over the years.

This was good. It was right. You were safe.

You were overcome with such a strong wave of emotions that you sucked in a breath.

You were sure that if you had been standing, it would've knocked you right over.

You didn't question whether or not he'd be there to help you back up.

His other hand, previously rubbing up and down your back, came up to stroke your hair. To calm you.

The soft music playing in the background was interrupted by your next few words.

"Can I be vulnerable for a minute?"

You broke eye contact as you said it. Feelings and eye contact at the same time were not a strong suit of yours.

"Of course you can, my love."

You gave a slight smile at the term of endearment and fiddled with the front of his shirt. You always seemed to busy your hands while having conversations such as these.

You were a decent communicator, so it wasn't as if this was your first time opening up to him emotionally. However, it always took some effort from both you and him in order to coax you out of your head and actually do the communicating.

Vulnerability was just hard for you, despite how much of an emotional person you were. You wanted to talk to people and have them understand, but the thought of setting yourself up for hurt scared you.

"I just... um..." you started off quiet- quieter than you intended.

He drew back the hand on your head and threw it over your side again to reach your back, letting you know he was still there.

"I just never thought I'd have this."

Your eyes flitted up to briefly meet his.

He looked at you with so much tenderness and care that you started to tear up.

"I never thought that I'd have someone in my life in this way. I had convinced myself that there was no one out there for me. I always feared that I'd be alone for the rest of my life while everyone else moved on with theirs." You sniffled a bit and balled his shirt in your fist.

"I thought I was unlovable." You could feel the tears spill over but he was quick to wipe them away.

"I genuinely believed that I was just never meant to be loved by anyone, that I wasn't allowed to have someone to love. That no one would ever look at me and find comfort or feel love- that I was undeserving of anyone seeing me that way. I hated myself that much."

He never stopped looking at you. He payed close attention to what you were saying and it made you warm inside.

"I just... I don't know, I'm just so grateful to have you in my life. Like, you will never know the true extent of how grateful I am to be loved by you, or how blessed I feel to have the chance to love you. You completely shut down all those thoughts I had. To have this with someone at all is amazing but I know I can't have it with anyone else- it's not possible. You're it for me."

You hadn't realized he started crying until you looked back up at him to say those four words.

Your turn to wipe away his tears. You had one last thing to say to him though.

"I'd wait forever and a day to have this if it meant always having it with you. You made the wait well worth it, my dear. Thank you for loving me. And for letting me love you. You've made me so happy."

He wrapped you up in the tightest hug you've ever received. Small sniffles could be heard from both of you, shirts were getting wet and limbs were getting numb but neither of you cared.

He pulled away just enough so that he could lean his forehead against yours. A small noise and a soft ouch upon contact made the two of you giggle a bit.

"I love you so much baby. So much it scares me, sometimes. I can't believe I get the honor of loving someone as incredible as you. I'm never gonna take that for granted. You're it for me, too."

You turned your head to the side and buried it into your arm so he couldn't see your shy grin.

He figured now that the overly emotional part was done, you'd want a distraction so you didn't worry about changing the mood of the night. He didn't mind giving you that.

So he gave a soft laugh and kissed your cheek. "You're so adorable."

You could feel your face getting hot and pure happiness start to bubble up, so you hid your face more and tried to turn.

He laughed louder this time and tried to stop you from turning around to hide completely. "Stop, let me compliment you!"

"No! You're gonna make me a pile of mush, do you really want that?"

"My love, you're still always going to be the sweetest thing I've ever laid eyes on. Pile of mush or not."

"Oh my God, shut up."

You struggled a bit, all the while laughing with him, which made it difficult to fight him off.

Eventually he managed to keep you facing him, and his attack of compliments and praises continued until you were indeed a metaphorical pile of mush in his arms.

You sighed when a familiar, comfortable silence washed over the two of you.

"I love you." You whispered.

"I love you." He responded.

Once again your faces were close, his hand was caressing your cheek and your eyes were locked.

Everything was right in your world.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuuxreader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu #miya osamu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #suna x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader fluff #kenma x reader #hq fluff #iwaizumi x gender neutral reader #sakusa x reader #kageyama x reader #kita x gender neutral reader #aran ojiro #hinata shoyo x reader

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frost-queen · 2 years

Text

Save the lonely girl (Reader x Tenth doctor)

Requested by: @october-leaves Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex–awesome–22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @automaticbakeryfreakshoe, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna

Summary: When a wish has been made, longing for an adventure, away from the stress of college, returns a long lost forgotten imaginary friend... who might not be so imaginary.

With your hands in your hair, sighed you loud. Stacks of books and papers scattered around your desk. It was a mess, a hard mess. Taking another deep breath, started you to lift up papers and books in search for your phone. You had lost it somewhere, lost and forgotten about it. You groaned a bit, not finding it immediately. – “Where are you.” – mumbled you out, keeping your voice down. You knew it was already late as it was dark outside. The darkness of the sky peeking through your curtains that were slightly open.

You just wanted to know what time it was. It felt like that time of the night where you were alone. The only girl in the world. Finally hidden between some pages from your textbook found you it. Turning it on, got you blinded by the bright light for a moment. Quickly dimming the light, let you adjust your eyes to it. Your eyes widened at the sight of the time. – “2:30!” – panicked you, slowly bringing your hand to your mouth in shock. You had no idea it was already that late. You should be sleeping, but instead were you still studying like a learn-aholic.

Dropping your phone, pushed you, yourself away from your desk. Your joints felt sore from sitting for hours. Getting up, stretched you out. Moving your head, releasing the tension in your neck. Like a complete wreck, dropped you down on your bed. – “So much to do…” – murmured you, barely moving your lips. If you could just close your eyes. You did for a second but opened them again. They were irritated and closing them, irritated them more. Only other option was to stay awake till you fell asleep of your own.

Lifting your head up from the bedsheets, observed you, your desk. That hot mess of disaster. Looking like someone dropped all their books and papers on your desk. Simply letting them fall out of their hands. Groaning with some inner protest, got you up. The softness of your sheets saying goodbye. Pulling your chair back, sat you down again. – “Come on, Y/n.” – said you to yourself, giving yourself a soft tap. – “It will be all worth it in the end.” – for a moment believed you it. Your own words like some mental coach was drilling them in your head.

Then came the tears. The desperate tears of exhaustion and fatigue. – “I can’t do this anymore.” – cried you out, dropping your head onto your textbooks. Crushed underneath the weight of success. Having to do great to achieve your goals. Get those high scores in college. All couldn’t be for nothing. You just had to push through. It was only a matter of when you would falter. Collapse under the stress and fatigue of being a college student. Inhaling sharply, shot you, your head up. With one clean swipe over your face, wiped you all your tears away.

Shoving your chair better underneath your desk, sat you up straight. – “Come on, just a few more chapters… Sleep is for the death…” – as a mantra said you it out loud. Encouraging your body and mind to work with you instead of against you. Picking up your pencil, drew you a paper closer to you. You were about to sigh again as you stopped yourself in time. No time to complain, just do it. Popping the pencil between your lips, pulled you more papers to you, trying to make out their order. You organized a few of them to give your head a better view. After a half an hour or so, were you staring dreamingly out of the window.

Your hand resting against your jaw. The pencil now in your hand. Your thoughts took a detour from studying. Dreaming away of wonderful places. Adventures you wanted to have instead. Go to see Paris or travel to the great wall in China. All things you never will see from outside your bedroom window. Getting up, you went towards your window. You pulled your window open, letting a gush of wind inside. It felt cold, but made you feel alive. Sticking your head out, took you a deep breath. Inhaling some fresh air. Your eyes drifted down to your yard. The not so grand yard behind your house. With a smile, remembered you the silly made up adventures you had.

A princess on a quest. A spy with a mission. A doctor. A doctor? Blinking rapidly, were you suddenly reminded of your imaginary friend. A weird chap, a doctor you recalled. Smiling thought you back of those happy memories. Even when they weren’t real, they felt like heaven right now. Bringing your fingers closer to your palms, blinked you the tears in your eyes away. – “I just want to have some fun like when I was younger. To share those adventures with my imaginary friend.” – whispered you out into the night. Almost a wish from the heart. Laughing at your own silliness, wiped you, your nose with the back of your hand. Shaking yourself back to reality, pulled you back inside, shutting the window.

After hydrating yourself and nibbling on a snack you had laying for hours. A snack forgotten to eat hours ago. Returned you to your studies. Those subjects weren’t going to crawl into your head all by themselves. They needed a slight push and effort from you. Not some fifteen minutes later, heard you some weird noises. A buzzing that faded in and out. Almost like an annoying alarm. Lifting your head, radiated a light through your window crashing into your bedroom. Startled, got you up, your chair falling over from the haste.

Rushing to your window, pulled you the curtains aside. With shock in your eyes, saw you something blue faintly appear and disappear in your backyard. Your immediate thought were aliens. Panicking backed you away from the window. – “Perhaps it will go away.” – whispered you. The sounds didn’t go away, almost wheezing loud now. It must wake your parents up as well, right? When you went to check in the hallway, heard you nothing. Absolute silence. – “I’m going mad?” – panicked you, gripping for your head, your fingers tangled in your hair. Trembling on your knees worried you for your defenseless parents still sleeping. You had to take matters in your own hand.

Flopping on some slippers rushed you out of your room. The wheezing sound had stop as you hoped it perhaps had left. The last thing you wanted was a mental breakdown. – “It’s nothing.” – recited you to yourself. Slowly grabbing a tennis racket from your uncle in the process. He had left it here for ‘fun’. To ease those dull summer nights with a game of sports. He had forgotten them since last summer, forgotten to ask them back. – “Just some stress from studying.” – with that thought eased your muscles a bit. – “There is absolutely nothing outside.” – Standing before the door. The only thing separating you from whatever was outside.

Taking a deep breath, opened you the door. Armed and ready, jumped you outside, hoping to see nothing. – “Oh God!” – shrieked you out, your eyes wide with terror. Lowering the tennis racket a bit in your hand, approached you the funny object in your backyard. From up close saw you ‘police box’ written on it. – “Is it a phone box?” – mumbled you out, touching the framework carefully. – “How on earth did it got here?” – wanted you to know, letting your hand rub against it. A dark shadow made you gasp, gripping tightly onto the tennis racket. – “Show yourself!” – called you out shakingly. How much you hoped this wasn’t a robbery.

A man in a trench coat came around the corner, scratching his head rapidly. He looked around as if he hadn’t heard you. Searching for something. You staggered back, creating some distance between you and him. The man stood with his back towards you, looking up to the police box. He threw his hands up in confusion. When he turned around, was he startled by your presence. – “Oh! Hello!” – called he out, ready to take a step closer to you. – “Don’t come any closer!” – yelled you at him, trembling on your knees. The tennis racket ready to smack him if he got any closer. – “I’m armed!” – stated you, wiggling the tennis racket at him.

“With… with a tennis racket?” – replied he with a frown. – “Are you planning on playing tennis?” – he putted on a smile, removing one hand from his pocket. – “I happen to have played in Wimbledon a few times… yeah great times…” – he drifted away, lost in a distant memory. – “That yours?” – asked you, pointing with the tennis racket at the police box. – “Oh that!” – exclaimed he, a tat enthusiastic. He stepped back, touching it with his hand. – “That’s mine… My tardis.” – said he with a content smile.

“Well I need you and your police box to go!” - demanded you. The man narrowed his eyes, leaning a bit forwards to you. – “What… what are you doing?” – asked you confused and taken back. He came stepping closer to you. You inhaled short, afraid of what he might do. He kept coming closer as everything in your body screamed at you to stop him. Whack your tennis racket at his head and call for the police. Well there was an obvious police box in your yard so how convenient. Yet despite all the warnings, did you nothing. He lowered his head a bit to get a closer look at you.

It made you feel like being under a microscope. – “Is that you Y/n?” – questioned he. You gasped in shock. – “How… how do you know my name!” – wanted you to know, bringing the tennis racket closer to your chest for protection. – “It was you who called me right?” – He furrowed his brows brief, followed by a loud laugh. You watched as he paraded around in some kind of silly victory dance. – “How… how long has it been?” – breathed he out, slowing down. – “What are you talking about… I don’t know you.” – he nodded a bit offended, rubbing his finger over lip. – “It’s me Y/n, the doctor.” – explained he.

“No…” – said you softly, shaking your head. – “No… don’t mess with me.” – said you, suddenly remembering it. Your imaginary friend was a doctor as well. Or at least that was what he used to call himself all the time. Now that you observed him closely, looked he quite like him. Exactly like him when you first met him. You were six and a half. Always persistent people mentioned the half. You were six and a half, not simply six. You always said it to sound older and mature. Something he used to find funny at the time. – “He… he was made up!” – called you out in a panic.

The doctor took a careful step towards you. – “I wasn’t…I never was Y/n.” – exhaling surprised, needed you a moment to process it all. – “So…” – started you, pointing at him. Turning away were you lost in your words. – “You… you are not…” – continued you, looking briefly at him. He slowly nodded, tucking his hands in his pocket. – “But…” – your brain felt like glitching from the new revelation. – “Why are you here?” – wanted you to know. – “You called for me.” – said he with a smile. – “What do you mean… I never…” – it suddenly hit you. You wished to have adventures again, just like those you had with your imaginary friend.

“What are you!”

“I’m a time lord.”

“English please!”

The doctor took a soft breath. – “I can take you wherever you like, wherever you like. Past, present, future, anywhere you like Y/n.” – He walked back to his Tardis, touching it. – “I can bring you anywhere around the world even further and be back in time for teatime.” – his gaze adverted to you. – “What do you say Y/n. Will you go on an adventure with me?” – You gaped at his hand that he held out to you. With trembling knees and a foggy mind, stepped you forwards. – “Back before tea-time.” – repeated you, coming to a stop before him. – “Back before morning.” – answered with a wink.

Trusting him, slipped you, your hand in his. He closed his fingers over your hand, opening the door to the Tardis. In wonder gaped you at the interior. – “Its…its…” – started you, stepping inside. – “Bigger on the inside.” – said you, the doctor mouthing your words as he had a clue of what you were going to say. – “Yes, bigger on the inside, yippie!” – joked he out, closing the door behind him. You followed him towards the middle where a circular panel was formed around a large tube that stretched up till the ceiling. He quirked his eyebrow up at the thing still in your hand.

“You planning on playing tennis somewhere?” – asked he. – “Oh, sorry.” – chuckled you out, placing the tennis racket aside. – “So where do we go?” – you came standing beside him, watching him. – “Anywhere you like.” – reminded he you. Lowering your head, you had no idea. – “How can one person choose? What if what I choose is not good enough? What if it ends up being a total bore and…” – you started stressing about it, making the doctor rush to your aid. – “Hey! Y/n, we have all the time in the world.

I’ll make sure it won’t be a bore.” – you exhaled deep, giving his arm a soft squeeze. – “Then you can choose for me, doctor.” – the doctor blinked confused. – “You can go anywhere you like, and you are making me choose?” – he rephrased your words to be sure he heard it right. You hummed loud with a nod. – “I trust you. I’ve trusted you when I was little, and I do now.” – you got on the tips of your toes to reach his cheek, leaving a gentle kiss on it. – “I want to not choose for once…got my head full already with choices.” – the doctor slowly smiled. – “Well then! Off we go!”

You stepped out of the Tardis, taking in the sweet air. Your feet sank away in the pure white sand when you stepped out. Endless white sand spread before you. The doctor walked out after you, leaning against the door. He watched you take off your shoes with a giddy smile. You started to run, leaving footprints behind in the clean sand. – “Just don’t get into the water!” – yelled he out after you. You called it out, happily. – “Y/n!” – called he out, wondering if you had heard him. Running after you, wanted he to prevent you from going into the waters. It might look like a place on earth, but you were for a fact on a foreign planet.

You saw the water, thinking this was just a beach. Already making your way over to it, panicked the doctor. – “Y/n!” – shouted he loud, rushing to you. The water was in reach till you suddenly got picked up. You screamed it out when the doctor had his hands under your armpits lifting you up. Your bare feet dangling in the air, moved he you away from the water. – “Don’t go in there, Y/n.” – breathed he out. You frowned, wanting an explanation. – “Dangerous water. It has a biting acid in it, so if you want to keep those pretty feet of yours, I suggest you keep them out of the water.” – you slowly nodded, moving your feet closer to each other.

“Can… can I sit on that rock?” – questioned you, pointing at the large boulder behind you. The doctor nodded as you were already making your way over to it. With some climbing managed you to get on top of it. The doctor came sitting beside you. – “Why did you choose this place?” – wondered you, looking over at the horizon. – “You’ll see.” – replied he with a giddy smile. You nodded, patiently waiting. Your gaze fixed on the horizon as you didn’t want to miss whatever the doctor brought you here for.

The doctor turned his head towards you, staring at you for a moment. It sure has been a long time since he saw you. You were just six and a half. He remembered to always add the half, or you would get grumpy. It made him smile to see you cross your arms whenever he misspoke. That grumpy glare that he secretly found cute. Seeing you now, were you very different from that little girl he once knew. Hardly changed. Well of course you’ve changed. You are much older now. He realized that now. There hung this aura around you. Something mystic and mature.

You gasped touching his arm while pointing forwards. – “Doctor!” – called you out in wonder. He smiled; glad you hadn’t changed much. A sun or something that passed for a sun set. A sunset. Instead of the familiar colors it had. Deep orange and yellow was the sunset another color. Blue with tints of green. It reminded you of the northern lights. In wonder gazed you at it, taking every bit of it in your memory. For a moment forgot you about your exams, your studies, the stress. You forgot about them for a moment, and it felt good. Smiling let you, your head rest against his shoulder.

“Thank you doctor.” – whispered you. – “You truly saved me.” – Rubbing your head a bit against his shoulder. The doctor inhaled deep, gazing at the colorful sky for himself. – “I’ll always save you…” – whispered he back. The world fell quiet for a moment. The doctor hadn’t heard you say anything for a while. He looked down, seeing that you had fallen asleep. He allowed you to sleep a little longer on his shoulder. After a while when the sky had turned a dark black, carried he you back to the Tardis. It took him just a moment to back in your yard. He brought you inside, laying you in your bed. Since he didn’t want you to forget about this, wrote he a note. Signed from your imaginary friend, the doctor.

In the Tardis, took he a deep breath. Left alone with silence again. The Tardis was moving through time and space when he suddenly noticed the tennis racket. He laughed loud, picking it up gently. He admired it for a moment, placing it a better spot. A spot where he could daily look upon it. A reminder of you till the next time he visited you. That was a promise he made himself. The girl he was always going to save.

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Read more of my fic’s on my Masterlists!

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

Text

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays! join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch. “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can. I know you can. Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me. Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly. “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred. “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you? Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded. “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed. "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer. You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients. Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ. There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago. Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality. But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain. And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place. It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often. It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again. He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him. “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall. “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided. You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch. After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something. “Yeah, I guess you haven’t. First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled. “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on. You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine. But there were more pressing matters at hand. Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment. This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in. I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that. The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages. You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted. Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James? Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards. But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically. For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh! Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly. “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,” you promised cryptically. “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again. “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school? Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past. “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once. You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered. “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on. “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh? So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you. “But you’re really not. You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you. “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right? Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably. “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself. And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah? How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number. “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced. “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about. Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad. Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet. “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly. “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right? Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before. “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead. “Do you want me to hit you again? Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive. His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls. “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you. He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder. And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout. “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised. “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin. “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft. It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you. “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him. “Can I keep going? Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned. You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive. And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back. But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little. "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly. "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently. "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more. You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James? So you could show me how good you can be?”

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day. Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked. “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now? You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed. “You don’t deserve anything from me, James. You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean. Kept him on his toes, apparently. Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right. “I know!” he cried. “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you. I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much. Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me. Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you. I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it. Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all. But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you? It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you. And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother. “All mine, huh? My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip. Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up. You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you? You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind. It’s useless. I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut. “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit. But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed. “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them. His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger. Was that even possible? Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked. “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself. It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well. Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided. “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes. “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is. You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly. “N-no, please—”

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you. Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act. Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous. You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest. So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now. “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you. You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that. I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you. And for a second, you knew you’d let him. It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal. It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly. “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned. “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right? That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me. Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to. “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come. I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets. And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it. So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel. You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out.

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected. “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se. When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated. But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered.

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that. “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched? Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed. Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed. Prideful, even. You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin. He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know. It’s so unfair, isn’t it? Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away. “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed. “Please, don’t— don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly. "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly. "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach. You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy. "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you. "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince. “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock. “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time. Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly. “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised. “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away?

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him. It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive. A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact. Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up. Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg. You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear. Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully. Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close. You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit. You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw. “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair. “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that. He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin. The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra. Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately. “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut. Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well). He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent. “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe. Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled. “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away. “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him. "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet.

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

#sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut

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