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#bro what are you even doing
sangerie · 8 months
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Something that really fucks me up is this scene where Robin says she wants to die and how Luffy makes this face
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And upon reading this for the first time, I felt a huge wave of emotion over his expression because it just felt to me like when he heard that, he was seeing something else. Almost like a memory that we weren't being shown.
And then later when Ace and Luffy's backstory plays out, this is revealed;
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That Ace was suicidal. Feeling like it was wrong for him to have even been born and to live. Feeling hurt, angry, alone and unwanted.
And that the only reason he felt like he had the strength to keep living was because Luffy told him that he didn't want him to die.
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Ace never directly told Luffy that he wanted to kill himself. But with the way he carried himself and the obvious disregard he had for his life, it was easy to see for someone as empathetic and intuitive as Luffy. And so Luffy stayed close to Ace desperately until he felt strong enough to stand on his own.
Luffy has had so many suicidal people in his life since such a young age and he always saves them in such a seemingly effortless way just by saying
"I'll be there with you. I'll stay."
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But what alot of people don't understand is that in spite of Luffy's endless empathy, compassion and love that's deeper than the ocean, when somebody he loves wants to die it always hurts him so bad and it shows so much on his face at even a hint of it.
He bounces back with a smile so often and kicks so much ass that it's so easy to forget sometimes that he's just this 17-19 year old kid...
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Who, at his core, is still always crying and begging the people he loves not to leave him because he doesn't want to be alone anymore, either.
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luigi-core · 1 year
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i am going to combust into a million pieces
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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We could have had it all...
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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samodivaa · 7 months
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┊Impure Thoughts┊
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《Part 2┊ Reader x Bucky Barnes?
Bucky is getting more comfortable with going out without the prosthetic. You are getting a little too comfortable with the idea of using it...as a pleasure tool.
Warnings - smut, metal dildo lmao?, mastrubation (f), fingering Words - 1700 ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ In the living room, you are settled on the couch with your book, but you pause halfway through reading a sentence when it finally sinks in. You have unconsciously placed yourself directly across the room from the armchair, and something seems to be filling your entire field of vision—Bucky’s metal arm—pitifully, the first coherent thought that emerges, is undoubtedly something that you have been thinking about these past weeks—you grind your teeth and chew your tongue. That is followed closely by the realization that this is probably an instinctual reaction born out of being alone for too long. Right? The thought has you swallowing hard while you feet the beginnings of arousal, you shift uncomfortably, crossing your ankles—the beginning of the end. Here it is again: that feeling of complete addiction, of an irrational kink, need. A craving, a thirst, blood rushing to your ears to chant in your mind once again: God, I want to try it.
Your eyes flicker between the book and the prosthetic. A ripple of gooseflesh erupts down your whole body and you squeeze your eyes shut in mortification, you even change positions and straighten your back, leading to several cracks up your spine. Why did he need to leave his prosthetic arm on the armchair?
You feel your jaw slacken. The inevitable desire floods your brain too quickly, irritation prickling at your chest. “He is not coming home tonight…” you note mentally with a magnanimous twinkle of your eyes. Two identical streaks of pink appear on your cheek and you avert your gaze, shaking your head. You have imagined what it might be like to use it as a pleasure tool countless times, but you have never considered that you would actually be bold enough to do it. But even as that transient thought flits through your brain, the image of your legs spread while fucking yourself on it…the fantasy swirls hazy— This is so wrong, but you are so exhilarated by it—but it’s akin to torture. You rub your eyes and try to focus on the letters and shapes, but it is difficult.
"Right," you mumble to yourself, trailing your fingertip under the sentence to steady your gaze "The man who has a conscience suffers whilst acknowledging his sin. That is his punishment…”
Fuck…
You have already read that sentence twice.
You attempt a denial, tongue stuck to your teeth “Some things are beyond help” you confess, smothering a yawn into your sleeve. You sigh impatiently, but get up from the couch nonetheless. As you head to the bedroom, you stupidly lean your body in the door frame, attempting to dispel the notion that you are so turned on just thinking about it. You let out a stealthy, thin smile, but you instinctually clasp a hand over your mouth. You stare intently into the prosthetic. Head clouding. Heart taking off again. It is not that you don’t want to do it now—it is more like you don’t want your little bubble to pop just yet, the bubble of your innocence. You have finally just given up on the feeble attempt to get your body and mind to settle down to sleep. Your phone, which you have ignored for some time by then, buzzes with a new text. The phone on the coffee table buzzes yet again, but you don’t even acknowledge it.
You make your breaths as quiet as possible, managing to walk over to the armchair without making the faintest noise. A growling soft leaves your throat, followed by an annoyed moan—mentally swooning at the idea you will actually do it this time. Instantly, you feel your blood run cold, and your face immediately falls. Embarrassment, that is all, just sheer and utter embarrassment as you find yourself caught in the act.
Quickly, you let out a nervous laugh, amused by your own antics.
“It's okay, no one will ever find out” you are quick to try to convince yourself, to urge yourself to take the opportunity. You lost in the end. You get on your knees in front of the armchair, leaning down to get in eye level with it before your hand reaches out and finds the metal fingers, using the pad of your thumb to brush against vibranium there. You lace the cold fingers with yours, they move so easily. …you didn’t know that. You are far too entranced by the arm, that you have forgotten about the appendage pressed in between your thighs, until you shift a bit. Instantly, you feel that spot between your legs head up even more and that reminds you of the throbbing sensation you have been ignoring. You apply pressure with your free hand, prying a sharp exhale from your own lips, finding relief on the soft carpeted floor, and spreading your legs—but still the wetness between your legs is growing, and it is unbearable. You whimper as your fingers press into the clit. You start to rub circles into it as you soak the fabric. But you need more, it’s not enough. That's why you reach down and grab the fabric of your panties in between shaky fingers and gently pull it to the side, rapturously rubbing without the fabric in the way. No, this is not enough. Hands are shaking with desperation.
One by one, you place your fingers in your mouth and lick them before running them up and down your slit, finding yourself instinctually moving quicker. You slid one finger inside, shivering a little at the feeling. It is quickly followed by a second, then a third. You jolt in pleasure when your fingers nudge up against the spot. With newfound vigour, you finger yourself even harder. Your body fizzes with a heady sensuality, where you are constantly in the process of getting aroused, bringing yourself closer to an euphoric climax, but you don’t really want to orgasm like that.
You have such an unambiguously bad feeling—awful, really—but you couldn't look away, couldn't stop. But the nearness, the possibility of this fantasy becoming reality, it has dwelled in you for too long. Every embarrassment is forgotten. It has seized hold of your heart: desire is terrible. Your insides clench longingly at need to be filled, practically singing at the thought of something being buried within you. Your hand moves alternately in a frantic blur, then achingly slow, edging closer and closer, fingers are buried deep inside you while the thumb rubs your clit and lips, with you being so wet that you can hear your fingers' movement, but—No, no, no, this is not enough—the fingers are still inside you, moving in a now broken rhythm before stopping completely. You are so tight around your own fingers, how will you feel around the metal ones? You have fantasised about this more than once.
You have touched yourself to that fantasy more than once. “Jesus…I might actually do it” It is unusual to be so nervous, but the words that come out of your sweet lips cut off any rational thoughts you have. Then the inevitable—your pussy throbs at the idea. A reflex, a response, a curse. 
It is actually rather exciting that no-one will see you. You take a deep shuddering breath, eyes are stormy with a ravenous hunger. There are resolved cracks as your desires win this time. You latch onto the index metal finger hungrily and suck it like it's the sweetest treat, staying still for just a second before moving up and down, tongue swirling around the cold digit. Then, wrapping your tongue around a second finger and tasting the slightly metal tangy taste of the vibranium. You bend the fingers of your other hand in that come-hither motion again and again until your cunt is squirting out onto the hand in a stream of clear wetness.
Shit.
Suddenly, you get up and snatch the prosthetic from the armchair, heading to the bedroom.
Your lip quivers as you drink the sight of the arm onto the mattress, all the while loosening your panties and Bucky’s t-shirt you love to wear, but not now—whining through the back of your throat and then heaved breaths through your nose—What, what are you doing? Your mind whirres; you can hear your own heartbeat, your palms are clammy. You take the lube before laying on the bed, squeezing some onto your fingers and applying some to and inside of yourself before you start fingering yourself, spreading yourself open and sliding your fingers inside once again. Breathy little noises, helplessly turned on, you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking into it as you turn your gaze to the metal prosthetic. “Okay…” you murmur quietly, shifting a little so you can grab the arm with both hands and finally align it with your entrance. You are beyond ready.
“H-holy shit…” you pant as the cold surface of the fingers lightly touches the sensitive skin of your stretched hole, and you moan shamelessly, squeezing your eyes shut and arching into the feeling as your skin erupts in goosebumps, unwilling to acknowledge the frissons of pleasure washing over you with each flick of the metal. Anger boils in your stomach as well as a fair bit of shame, because you are not sure if it will fit—it's way too big. You want to come on the metal, want to feel the coldness, but your face contorts in both pain as much as pleasure as you try to push it inside more. You make a strange whining sound, desperate to come, desperate to fit it beyond the knuckles—you gasp out when you begin to move it, thrusting in and out in a slow, grinding motion. You finally look down when you finally fit in more of it—your mouth hangs open and your limbs feel like they are frozen. You have made a terrible decision, you know you have when you see blue eyes illuminated with curiosity, horror…? 
“H-hey” you speak airly, shivering and groaning faintly as his coveting blue eyes meet yours.
Oh yes, you didn't check your phone.
⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ might write a part two, i personally need more metal arm stuff fr :0
《Part 2
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modmad · 5 days
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OOPS I'm remaking the poll bc apparently it's tradition to have 'yes' first and it confused a bunch of people ghghnfj okay
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willowser · 5 months
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another thing about the assistant angle is like. being there when bakugou reaches the hero top 40 and branches off with kirishima and sero and denki for their own agency. it's a bit of a mess bc they're barely twenty years old but—you're his only employee. he can barely afford to pay you and he doesn't even really know what you're supposed to do besides answer the phone and he's so emotionally unavailable but you're there, every single day. friendly with his friends. sometimes you bring lunch in for all of them and it's out of your own paycheck and it's not the best but you do it, for them. he lets you make the schedule for two weeks and you fuck it up so bad, but eventually you get it right and you try to be so fair—and that's hard to do, in the pro-hero world. there's nothing fair about a twenty year old man with trauma up to his ears risking his life every night because he doesn't know how to live with just himself, as just a man and not a hero, but goddamn it if you don't try to keep it fair, for every single one of them. you're one of his emergency contacts. you pick them up in the middle of the night when they're all the way across town, in another district police department bc that's where they caught the guy and where they have to turn him in. sometimes you bring their clothes or costumes home and wash them bc they don't get the chance. like it's everything.
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aq2003 · 6 months
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like the important thing you must keep in mind about ten when you see him do literally anything is that he's soooooooooo so so so bad at actually isolating himself from other people. so TERMINALLY bad at it. he thinks to himself "i don't need human connection because everything i do causes pain and destruction to those around me :(" but then he experiences a crumb of human connection and his heart starts to spill out of his chest
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ilayathenu · 5 months
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buck: are you sure eddie’s gay? he barely even looked at me.
*us screaming at the screen for buck to open his eyes*
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guckies · 6 months
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Someone said it’s Phil, Kristin and their emo son 😭😭 No my dude that’s his minecraft husband!!! If anything that’s their plus one!
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numum · 7 months
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the he
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turtleblogatlast · 2 days
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Something I love about Leo is that, canonically, he IS capable of cooking, he’s just completely incapable of using a toaster. He’s banned from the kitchen not out of an inability to make edible food, but because being within six feet of a toaster causes the poor appliance to spontaneously combust.
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just-null · 5 days
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jay u NEED to draw more ino
PLS I BEG YOU HES SO HGHGHGH IN YOUR STYLE...
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he's pretty cute!
even his underlying jealousy is pretty cute in how he asks because he goes right back to wanting to know everything about you and your day!
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Song - Taking What’s Not Yours by Tv Girl.
(I learnt my lesson from last time so here’s the animated version in the original post)
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pandoramarsh · 9 months
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when one of your favorite fic writers started hyperfixating on something new, and you know goddamn well they only hyperfixate on one thing at a time, so you know goddamn well they're going to stop writing fics for that one ship you are in love with
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coolnonsenseworld · 3 months
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Winter Wonderland part 4 - Winter Wondering II - Part 2/8
previous / next
linktr.ee/mezzy
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